Willing Sacrifice
Page 27

His fingertips found the opening along the back of her tunic and slipped inside. A burst of pleasure exploded down her spine, and a soft sigh escaped her lips.
His expression hardened at the sound, and every muscle along his frame vibrated with tension.
He stared at her mouth now, and hunger lit his eyes. “You tempt me.”
To do what, she wasn’t sure. Nor was she sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “Should I be sorry?”
“I fear you will be if I give in and do what I desire.”
Desire sounded good. “What’s that?”
His fingers curled against her skin, pulling her fractionally closer. “Everything.”
Her heart surged against her ribs. She had to swallow before she could speak. “Long list.”
“Yes. It is. One that would take a lifetime to exhaust. Maybe longer.”
“Sounds like you should get started on that.” With her.
“Do you even know what you’re asking for? Just how much of your knowledge was taken?”
“Not so much that I don’t know what men and women do together, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“But you don’t know what you’ve done. Or haven’t.”
“True.”
“And you don’t know if there was a man in your life—one who might object to you helping me with such a list.”
He was right. She didn’t know. And a horrible, selfish part of her didn’t even care.
Grace wanted to move on with her new life, to find some kind of meaning and happiness, but what if there was someone else? What if she was married?
She shoved away from him. Every cell in her body suffered a little death at the separation, but she ignored the agony. “I should go to bed.”
Torr stood there, his arms tight at his sides as if to keep from reaching for her. “Yeah. I think that’s best. I’ll come get you first thing tomorrow.”
She walked away, sure that she was going to be spending the night playing that scene out in her head over and over again, rather than sleeping.
Tomorrow she had to set out alone with Torr. She didn’t know how she was going to keep her distance when she was so drawn to him, but she knew she had to find a way.
•   •   •
Tori watched the disgusting display that Grace and Torr put on. For a minute, it looked like Grace was enjoying the man’s touch.
More confused than intrigued, Tori crouched in silence, her dead prey dangling limp in her grasp.
Nighttime hunting was the best. She’d been out for only a couple of hours, and she’d already scored enough meat to feed the village breakfast. The rest of the night was hers to do with as she pleased, and yet all she could do was stare at the couple who thought they were alone.
Torr’s back was to her, but even so, she could still see the tension radiating out from him as he held Grace. Restraint. Control. He held her as if she were the most precious thing in existence.
Tori knew what he wanted—the same thing all males wanted. If Grace hadn’t left, Tori would have been forced to intervene and protect the sweet woman from what he had in store.
The need to kill bloomed deep in her chest, pounding against her bones with the thirst for blood. The short sword strapped to her belt was in her hand before she even realized it. Its weight felt good in her hand. Solid. Safe.
Once Grace was completely out of sight, Torr stalked off, his walk stiff and awkward.
Tori didn’t have to see his front to know that his penis was bulging and hard. He would have used it to hurt Grace if she’d let him.
Sweet, innocent Grace didn’t even know enough not to let him.
But that was a problem Tori could fix. She had her sword, and she knew just what to do with it.
Chapter 13
It had been a long time since Torr had washed clothes by hand, but the chore came back to him easily, making him thankful for both washing machines and the Gerai who usually did his laundry.
The lake was blissfully cool. Animals serenaded his work but did little to keep his mind off of Grace. He’d wanted to kiss her so badly. He’d wanted to do a lot more than that, too, but kissing was definitely at the top of his list.
She’d grown lovelier over the past four years. He hadn’t thought it possible, but it was true. Whatever magic was in this place, it suited her. A little too well.
His erection throbbed, so he took a step deeper into the lake to rinse the soap from his charred jeans, socks and underwear. The cool water helped ease his lust, but he knew better than to think it would cure him.
Nothing could make him want Grace any less. But taking her now when she was stripped of her memories and vulnerable seemed like a sort of betrayal.
As much as he wanted her body, he wanted the real Grace more—the one who loved him back. Anything less would be hollow.
His body disagreed, but they’d been at odds before.
Something slipped into the lake a few yards away—probably some nocturnal animal hunting for fish. He’d seen a lot of strange creatures here, but so far, no more of those giant lizards.
He amplified his night vision, gathering a few sparks of power from the earth beneath his bare feet. It added to the power swelling inside him but didn’t hurt the way it once would have.
Ever since Grace had put that healing disk on his back, the pain from the energy he contained—the magic that his mate would someday wield—hadn’t bothered him. He’d spent years in pain, feeling it grow worse every day. That growing pressure was gone now, another gift he didn’t deserve.
With a few quick sloshes, he finished rinsing the clothes. They would be stiff without a dryer, but at least they’d be clean for tomorrow’s trip. A little worse for wear, with a few cuts and burn marks, but still more functional than going naked.
As he tossed the socks over his shoulder and began wringing out his jeans, he felt the water ripple against his thigh.
He reached for his sword, but he was too slow. A sleek, dark form burst from the water, close enough to kill him.
He felt the sting of his skin splitting a second before he recognized that the attacker was a woman, not some animal. And not just any woman. It was Victoria Madison. Tori.
Torr lifted his hands in surrender. Whatever she was going to do to him, he couldn’t fight back. His honor forbade it.
Water sluiced from her hair, but she didn’t blink it away. Her cold blue stare was that of a warrior bent on revenge.