Claire Delacroix by Pearl Beyond Price Read Free Book Online Page A

almost touching her throat. Thierry allowed himself a moment to flex his fingers in the thick mass, marveling at that softness, noting her discomfiture as she stared up at him helplessly.
    Her skin was so golden a hue, he mused, recalling only too well the delicacy of her throat beneath his hands, the ripe press of her buttocks against his groin. He should not have teased her with his arousal, he knew, but she was so tempting, he had done so before he thought.
    And now, he concluded as he looked into those wide brown eyes, she was certain that he intended to ravish her. He saw fear in those dark depths now where none had lurked in the shop. Her fear struck a nerve within him, as had her fearful response on the horse, dissolving his lust before it could truly take possession of him.
    Dismissing his recurring urge to reassure her, Thierry nudged her impatiently forward. He felt his brows pull together in a frown of displeasure, even as he reminded himself that ‘twould be much easier if she remained afraid of him.
    Women were a liability, an indulgence that made a man soft. And softness made a man vulnerable to his enemies.
    Like Abaqa. Thierry’s blood ran cold as he noted again the woman’s delicacy.
    This woman in particular was not to be trusted. Thierry had only to keep the witch close until the pearl reappeared. A day, mayhap two, depending on what she ate. Mayhap he would even return her to Tiflis unscathed if she granted him the gem quickly enough.
    Making him soft already she was, he concluded angrily to himself. No Mongol would have considered setting her free. Did the blood of the great Khan not course through his veins? He opened the flap to his yurt with a savage sweep and shoved the woman inside, leaving a chuckling Nogai outside.
    A day might well be all he could afford of her company.
    Kira had not expected the interior of the brown tent to be so luxuriously appointed. She gaped openly at the thick, patterned rugs covering the ground. Embroidered cushions were scattered in one corner, a small unlit stove in the other with various cooking implements and small vessels. A brass lamp hung from the central pole that supported the roof, though it, too, was unlit and her captor showed no inclination to light it. He left the flap open behind them, his grip unrelenting in her hair as he bent and hauled cushions into a pile around the pole.
    One tug on her hair had Kira on her knees and she protested, earning a hostile glare. The warrior broke into a spate of Mongol longer than anything he had said to date, angrily gesturing to their surroundings with a broad sweep of his free hand.
    “No idea have I what you mean,” she countered irritably. “If you think that I will hold my tongue simply because you bid me do so, then you are indeed sorely mistaken—”
    Kira got no further before the warrior scooped up a thick scarf and shoved it uncompromisingly into her mouth. She struggled against him as he tried to tie the gag. Kira managed to bite him hard enough that he cursed and released her hair to better finish the job. ‘Twas all the encouragement Kira needed to make a run for the open flap. She got no more than two steps before the warrior grimly swept her off her feet.
    He was coldly angry, that much was readily apparent when he cast her onto her back on the cushions. Kira squirmed but he dropped one knee onto her belly, lowering just enough weight onto her to keep her captive but not crush her. His eyes flashed as he lashed her wrists to the pole with crisp efficiency. Another scarf served to bind her ankles. The ends of the one filling her mouth were knotted behind her head so that she had no hope of breaking free.
    She was trapped!
    The warrior glared down at her for a long moment, and Kira feared her heart would stop in terror when he bent toward her. Kira’s mouth went dry as her mind flooded with the certainty that he would surely rape her.
    He merely tugged on the scarf knotted around her ankles so that her