Val
turned away from Chiliad and stepped into the chamber. The subterranean
cave was a geared-up shelter. “Enjoy the comforts,” she muttered
offhand, refraining from looking Chiliad’s way. She settled the glowing
sphere within a low-hung sconce rigged into one of the chamber walls,
wondering why she cared enough to warn him.
The
pirate followed her in, watching the orb’s light as it flickered around
the dark waters of a small underground lake.
With
a few long steps Chiliad was crouched by the water’s edge, dunking his
head deep inside.
Val
watched the barbarian downing the water, pouring shimmering handfuls
over his face, over his untamed, tangled hair. With a wild, carefree
howl that echoed off the chamber walls, he gave his mane a savage
shake. Water dripped from the soaked chestnut locks, painting wet lines
down the back of his thin shirt. He tore the dirty garment off his
chest and yanked it over his head.
Val
couldn’t take her eyes off him. She bit her bottom lip as she watched
muscles rippling in the man’s naked back.
Her
barbarian sprang to his feet, his large hands slicking back his
dripping hair as his eyes shut in ecstasy. His sculpted torso expanded
with a deep breath.
He
looked like…
Trouble.
Val’s
lips curled in a bittersweet smile. Her mouth burned with a sudden
dryness, a craving fiercer than thirst. A different kind of need was
scorching her insides, a compulsion as yet unknown to her.
Chiliad
turned from the lake, his eyes cracking open into blue slits. His slick
chest boasted dusky hair on it, the dark fuzz dusting his pectorals
arrowing to a trail that led beneath his breeches. Right to the
distinctive bulge straining against the snug fabric…
Sweet
Dyad, the barbarian was watching her right back!
Val’s
startled eyes snapped to the man’s amused face. He’d caught her
looking, saw that intent, downward glance… Her face flared with a
heated blush.
Chiliad
dropped his arms. He gave Val a devilish, sultry once-over.
“Come
over here, Val.”
Val
recognized that line. She shot Chiliad an uncertain
glance. Her feet made the decision for her, taking a couple of steps
closer to the man.
“Cloooser…”
Tension sizzled in his teasing voice.
“No.”
“No?”
His eyes flashed with a roguish grin. “You’ll end up dehydrated.”
Oh.
He was just offering her a drink. Val’s jumbled feelings swayed between
an overwhelming relief and an odd tang of disappointment. She stumbled
over to the water’s edge, kneeling by the murmuring lake, a safe
distance from Chiliad. Dunking her waterskin, she filled it anew. The
modest leather container had somehow maintained them both through their
hike among the dunes.
All
thoughts escaped Val’s mind as her mouth touched the canteen. Slow.
Take it slow. She struggled with an unhealthy compulsion to pour it all
down her burning throat. When she finally lowered her waterskin,
swiping her forearm across her dripping mouth, her eyes locked onto the
pirate’s sharp, blue gaze.
She
hadn’t sensed him draw near, watching her silently as she drank. Val’s
breath faltered as Chiliad dipped into a crouch before her, his slick
hair and torso dripping water. Reaching out, he rescued the forgotten
canteen from her unresisting grasp. Her eyes fell to his powerful
forearm extended her way. The man’s subtle, tangy aroma of untried
spices thrummed over her sensitized skin. Her stiff muscles began a
fine, irrepressible trembling.
Chiliad
steadied the canteen against the cave floor, his eyes not leaving Val’s
face. In silence he reached for her again, trapping a lock of her hair
in his fingers. He smoothed the silky tendril behind her ear, his warm
palm lingering against her cheek.
“Tell
me you don’t want me, honey.”
His
rough voice stroked over her skin. Val gazed back at Chiliad,
spellbound. “I-I can’t tell you that,” she whispered.
One
dark, masculine brow raised. A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of
the man’s full lips. His large hand sank beneath the silken midnight
hair at Val’s nape. He leaned over the short gap between their bodies
and kissed her.
Arianna
Hart 
