Pia Saves the Day by Thea Harrison Read Free Book Online Page B

pointed one stick toward him like a sword without looking up.
    “Stay back,” she said. Her voice sounded strange, clogged with emotion. “Leave me alone for a few minutes.”
    Distress seemed to bruise the air around her, and he could smell the tiny, telltale salt of tears. Scowling, Dragos folded his arms. He disliked the scent of her tears, and he had no intention of going anywhere just because she told him to.
    “You’re wasting your time,” he told her abruptly. “Those little twigs you’re gathering will burn to ash within a half an hour.”
    She snapped, “It’ll be better than nothing.”
    Brushing past the useless barrier of the stick she brandished and bending over her, he closed his hand carefully around the tense curve of her slender shoulder. She shuddered at his touch, her head tilting sideways as if she might lay her cheek against the back of his hand.
    He waited for her to do it, and in the process discovered he savored the anticipation, but she didn’t follow through with the gesture. Disappointment darkened his thoughts.
    “Go back up to the clearing,” he said. “I’ll bring firewood.”
    Carefully, she pulled away from his touch and straightened. Still without looking at him, she told him stiltedly, “Thank you.”
    He lowered his head, watching her shadowed figure as she climbed back up to the ledge, still carrying her useless bundle of twigs. If he didn’t like her walking away from him, he liked her pulling away from his touch even less.
    They would have words about that. They would most definitely have words.
    For now, he turned his attention back to the pile of deadfall. The frame of the fallen tree lay underneath a scatter of forest debris. With a few strong kicks, he splintered the dry wood and gathered several sturdy pieces. When he carried his load back to the clearing, he found that she had gathered rocks into a circle for a makeshift campfire ring.
    Wordlessly, he stacked his load a few feet away from the ring, and went back for another load. When he returned and added the second armful to the stack, he found her squatting in front of the ring. She had stacked the sticks she had gathered, and she worked at lighting a handful of dry leaves with a small, handheld lighter.
    Folding his arms, he watched. Even though he could have lit the fire with a single glance, she didn’t ask for his help, and he didn’t offer it. If she wanted to do it by herself, so be it.
    After a few minutes, she had a small fire started. Tiny flames licked eagerly at the sticks, and the growing circle of light contrasted with the darkness around them.
    Only then did she look up at him. She appeared calmer, more composed. She said, “It’s a good sign that you remembered your human form. It’s promising.”
    “Is it?” He tucked his chin and considered her from underneath lowered brows. “I suppose it is.”
    A powerful cascade of emotions made his mood uncertain, and apparently she picked up on it, for her gaze turned wary. “Don’t you think so?”
    The delicate skin around her eyes was shadowed with dark smudges, and she looked exhausted. Still, the firelight loved her, burnishing the warm, healthy tan of her skin. The pale gold of her hair shone.
    Her hair.
    He didn’t look at his wrist.
    “Perhaps it is a good sign,” he conceded. “I find I have more questions as time goes on, thus more frustrations.”
    Feeding another stick to the fire, she nodded. In profile, her expression was grim, settled. She looked as though she were set upon a long journey requiring endurance.
    Deciding to test her, he said, “I’m surprised you’re still here. Once you realized I had no knowledge of your mate, I would have thought you’d have given up by now and left.”
    Anger flashed in her eyes, a deep, pure sapphire violet. The very best sapphires had that same intense, almost purple blue. “If you think I would give up searching for my mate, just because I’ve had a bad couple of days and a few