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 
