Sheala by Judy Mays Read Free Book Online

fight well, Sheala. Few Gattan women would have dared attempt what you did today.”
    Sheala stared into his golden eyes. What did that mean? Again, shivers danced up and down her spine.
    She swallowed and inhaled.
    His scent was hot, spicy, male. She almost stepped forward.
    Ban coughed.
    She glanced at her cousin. He was staring at her with a knowing look in his eye.
    She jerked her gaze from his, conscious of the others standing around them. She gathered her composure, looked back at Marljas, and shrugged. “Beti taught me how to meld Aradab weaponless fighting with Drakian fencing techniques. It’s nothing.”
    With those words, she flashed Brianna a warm smile and walked away with Beti who immediately began to critique her performance.
    Marljas’ hand strayed to the cut at his neck as Sheala sauntered away from him. Since he’d been here, she’d placed herself in his arms, displayed her almost nude body to him. Now, she’d blooded him—on his neck. She’d made her intentions clear.
    Saying something about willing nurses, Ban clapped him on the shoulder. Brianna ordered him to the estate infirmary to have his ribs bound.
    Marljas looked one last time to where Sheala had resumed her practice with Beti.
    Her movements were fluid as water as she parried a blow from the Aradab and then attacked.
    Smiling, Marljas turned and followed Ban. Sheala had blooded him. She was his. And he was going to take her.

Chapter Four
    Grimacing at the sharp twinge in his tightly bound ribs, Marljas shifted his weight and touched the scab that had already formed over the small cut Sheala had given him.
    A Gattan woman didn’t cut a man’s neck unless she was insulting him—or interested in him as a mate.
    Sheala had already shown her interest in him, stroking him that day in the hallway, displaying her almost nude body to him. This cut was no insult. She was his to take—when he caught her. So what if she wasn’t Gattan. He was.
    He smiled. How hard would she make him chase her?
    The sound of a soft step caught his attention. She was coming.
    He remained quiet, almost invisible amongst the bushes he’d chosen for his cover until she was before him. He reached out, grasped her arm, pulled her into the bushes—and found a very sharp sword at his throat for the second time that day.
    He released her immediately and stepped back, holding his palms up. “I mean you no harm.”
    The sword disappeared from his throat. “Oh, it’s you.” She sheathed her sword. “Do you want something?”
    Nostrils flaring, Marljas crossed his arms over his chest.
    She stood before him, dark hair mussed, perspiration glowing on her face and on the bare skin he could see in the vee of her shirt. That day in the hallway, she’d smelled sweet and flowery, fresh from her bath.
    At the pool, her scent had been fresh and clean. Today, she smelled of hard work and woman’s sweat—a heady, tantalizing mixture.
    “You blooded me.”
    Finger-combing some stray tendrils of hair back off her forehead, she shrugged. “I didn’t mean to. You moved faster than I expected. I’m sorry.”
    Again, he inhaled deeply. Her scent was hot, intoxicating. He smiled down into her face and shook his head. “You aren’t sorry. I saw it in your eyes. Satisfaction appeared when you nicked me. You wanted to blood me.”
    Obviously nonplused, she stepped back and shook her head. “No! I didn’t mean to cut you. You’re a guest. I’d never intentionally hurt a guest.”
    He dropped his arms to his sides. His voice deepened as his desire for her rose. “You didn’t hurt me, Sheala. You excited me. But then, I think you know that.”
    Surprise flashed in her eyes. “Excited you? Arrogant Gattan! Who do you think you are?”
    He clasped his hands behind his back and smiled at her. “Your betrothed.”
    When her mouth dropped open, Marljas grinned. Now there was shock in her eyes—and anticipation, anticipation she quickly masked.
    Stepping forward, she glared up into