again."
The other brothers joined in merrily. "Or do you need us to help you reprimand the wench?"
"Because you know we're always willing to assist a brother d'Anzeray."
"We share the good and the bad, remember? Always. One for all. All for one."
The men around the table laughed. Even Raul. "I like that," he grunted. "It should be on our shield."
Suddenly Princesa felt goose bumps prickle under her sackcloth. She might have agreed to be his slave and do all that he commanded, but what, exactly, would he command? He drew her closer, tugging her until she perched on his thigh. It was a possessive move and yet his hand was only light on her waist while he chatted with the others, his manner casual now and more at ease.
She cautiously assessed each of his brothers. They were all muscular, of good height and solid breadth across the shoulders. They all had the same dark hair, two wore it shorter than the others and one had grown his beyond shoulder length. Their skin was swarthy, very different to that of her Saxon countrymen. Only Dominigo had the same mysterious silver eyes as Raul and they played over her like warm rain until she quickly looked away. From what she heard of their conversation —when they spoke words she could understand—Salvador was the eldest, with Dominigo close behind him in age. Ramon and Antonino were the two youngest who had remained with their father. Apparently d'Anzeray senior had enemies and required guarding by his sons.
Raul, she concluded, must be somewhere in the midst of the pack, along with the two named Alonso and Sebastien. So much to take in and names to learn. She might have to learn to count properly, she mused.
Surrounded by this army of big men she had felt fear at first, but that was replaced eventually by curiosity, then anticipation and excitement. They talked freely around her, and although they sometimes fell into their foreign tongue, she sensed that they did not do so to hide their conversation from her ears. It was merely habit that made them switch back and forth.
But even as the brothers laughed and joked together there was a wary undercurrent. They constantly parried and withdrew, testing their boundaries with each other.
Yes, she thought, "pack" was a good word for them. They were a litter of rowdy wolves, dark-haired and snappish when provoked, playful but not gentle with it, showing fangs to put each other in place as necessary.
Seated on Raul's knee, she did not feel in any danger now after that first flash of doubt. His brothers might show their interest in his slave, but her new master was in charge of her and they each knew it. He did not need to do any more than place his hand on her waist to mark her as his own.
Not like the Comte, who had shown his ownership by marking her face with a scar, thinking it would keep her from running off again.
When food was brought in for all the brothers, Raul fed her from his trencher, as if she was a pet. The others watched this little performance as they talked, catching up with their news. She read the hunger in their wolfish gazes whenever they looked her way. Black, silver or midnight blue, their eyes were equally turbulent and powerful.
Dominigo remarked, "Your slave girl is very beautiful, Raul. Where did you find her?"
"She came with the horse," he replied, his fingers pressing into her waist.
"Two rides for the price of one, eh?"
"You know me." Raul chuckled. "I always did love a bargain."
"Let me know any time you want to trade. They're both fine mounts, and I always have room for more in my stable."
Salvador cast his fierce dark gaze upon her across the table. "Ah, but our little brother does not care to share this one. He means to be greedy and keep her to himself."
She felt Raul's thigh muscle tense under her bottom. "I'm not sure she's ready for sharing," he growled.
The one called Sebastien exclaimed in disbelief, "Are you telling us she's a virgin?"
The others laughed.
"No. But I saw her