brutal as she feared? Kira looked down to his fingers wrapped so proprietarily around her elbow, hating herself for liking their tanned strength.
Who knew what those hands had done? The man was a Mongol. A barbarian.
Mayhap she was losing her mind. Certainly the jumble of emotions churning within her this day could not be sorted into any order. Mayhap the warrior was saving her hide for some other fate. Kira chilled at the thought and refused to reflect on it further.
In the distance a dark smudge grew more distinct. Kira gradually picked out the forms of horses grazing all around an apparent settlement. Gradually it became clear that the smudge across the landscape was composed of thousands of round homes. Kira had little doubt what sort of settlement they approached.
‘Twas the Mongol camp. A cold trickle of dread meandered into her stomach at the sight. What gruesome fate awaited her here?
* * *
Thierry rode directly to his own yurt, liking its welcome familiarity. The round felt tent gave him a sense as close to homecoming as he found these days.
But he would not indulge himself in another recollection of Khanbaliq. Truly he could not recall when those images had last haunted him as they did this day. But no time had he for such poignant and pointless reminiscing.
The woman had clenched up before him as the camp came into sight. Once again he stifled the urge to reassure her. Had she not tried to trick him once already? Indeed, there was no way of telling what sort of treachery was filtering through her mind even now.
A witch she was. He should know better than to trust such a lovely face.
Undoubtedly she was used to turning her beauty to her advantage. ‘Twould not work this time, Thierry reminded himself determinedly. He halted the horse with a barely audible sound and nudged his knee beneath hers. She apparently understood his intent, letting him lift her knee over the horse’s back with his.
At least she was not a fool, he concluded with an unwarranted rush of pride. He savored the pleasant feel of her cradled in his lap before he slid to the ground. Was the rest of her as soft as her hair? She gained her footing less gracefully than he had expected. That as much as anything was an indication of her unfamiliarity with horses.
That could well be changed. Thierry was amused when the witch immediately tried to pull away from him. Where did she think she might find safer haven than with him in this camp? Nogai would offer her company, ‘twas true, but somehow he doubted that kind of companionship would please her.
Thierry kept a firm grip on the end of her hair that had her shortly spinning to a stop, her eyes flashing angrily when they met his. Nogai laughed at her predicament and she spared him a hostile glance before she confronted Thierry once more.
She spat something, but the translator had been left in Tiflis. Mayhap not the best conceived plan, but then, Thierry needed no more from her than the pearl. Her anger was fascinating though, and Thierry watched her, unable to help being intrigued.
“Mayhap you will find out firsthand the cost of coupling with a witch,” Nogai taunted. The woman flicked him a venomous look, though she could not have understood the comment. Thierry chose to ignore the gibe.
She demanded something breathlessly, her tug on her hair communicating her request. Thierry almost smiled at her foolishness as he shook his head slowly. Her lips set mutinously and she crossed her arms under her breasts. Bewitching she was indeed, with those dark eyes shooting sparks. Thierry resolved in that moment to show both her and Nogai that he was unaffected by her charm.
He coiled her long hair once more around his hand, compelling her to come closer to him as he watched her silently. Her eyes widened in trepidation when he very deliberately repeated the gesture. She swallowed but took the requisite step closer. He wound her hair around his hand over and over again until his fingers were