Tapestries 03 - Woven Dreams by N. J. Walters Read Free Book Online Page A

for breaks, not wanting to exhaust her.
    Genny. He turned her name over in his head. She was wary of them, always watchful. Not that he could blame her. The scars and fading bruises on her back were a testament to the hardships she’d lived through.
    He might be sympathetic toward her, but he sure as hell didn’t trust her. She was lying to them. About what, he wasn’t sure. But there was no doubt in his mind she wasn’t telling them the truth. All the signs were there. She didn’t meet their gazes, fidgeting when she answered their questions. That is, if she didn’t outright evade them.
    Then there was the fact that her clothing was familiar. Perhaps she’d gotten them from someone else since the tapestry brought her here, but he didn’t think so.
    Jarmon watched her out of the corner of his eye as he spread his bedroll over the mossy ground. There was no denying her beauty. It shone from her like a beacon, calling him. Jerking his head back, he concentrated on what he was doing, but he was aware of her every single moment.
    He glanced down at his left hand, cursing it. His disfigurement had upset her. She had been unable to hold back her reaction, jerking away from him, staring at it in complete and absolute horror.
    She’d damn well have to get used to it.
    He flexed his fingers, straightening to his full height. If the tapestry had brought her, then she belonged to them. It was up to them to do everything in their power to convince her to stay with them. He had no doubt that she would marry Garrik, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was keeping her.
    He had his doubts about her story. After all, the tapestry had already brought two brides to this generation. That in itself was unusual. If she was lying about the tapestry, well, no matter—he stilled planned on keeping her.
    Garrik had started a small fire and now several large fish were draped over spits to cook. His brother had managed to catch them on one of their many rest stops. Genny kept her distance, sitting quietly on her own blanket. She didn’t seem any more comfortable with Garrik than with him. If they wanted her to stay with them, that would have to change.
    Jarmon strode to the center of the camp and settled himself on the ground. The sun was still shining, but from its location in the west, he knew it was late afternoon. Genny 30
    watched his every move like a frightened animal trying to read the hunter, hoping to escape before he struck. He didn’t like the image.
    “The tapestry brought you here?” Leaning back, he propped himself up on one arm, wanting to have a good view of her face as she talked.
    Her proud chin swept upward as she gave him a regal nod. “It did.” Once again, he was struck by her sheer loveliness. It was a subtle kind of beauty that a man noticed the longer he watched her. Her hair had appeared a plain medium brown until the sun struck it. Really, it was a mixture of just about every shade of brown imaginable. Her braid was the width of his wrist and he longed to unwrap the twisted mass and drape it over his body. He imagined that his brother was having similar fantasies.
    Her skin was pale, almost translucent. As he continued to stare at her, a light pink tinged her cheeks. He could spend hours tracing the contours of her face with his fingers. Her cheekbones were high, her chin strong but feminine and her nose straight.
    She closed her eyes as if to escape his heated gaze. He found himself wondering just how soft her eyelashes really were as they brushed her cheeks. Her eyes captivated him.
    They were a dark, rich brown that made a man want to promise her anything, everything. There was no guile to be found in them at all. She had no idea of her own beauty.
    His gaze moved lower, over the slender column of her neck toward her breasts. She was breathing rapidly, her chest rising and falling, making her breasts sway. From the glimpse that he’d had of her, he knew that she had exquisite breasts. High and firm,