“You prefer scholars to warriors who enjoy executing their enemies?”
She shuddered, blinking rapidly for a bit. “You’ve killed… you’ve…please tell me you’re kidding.”
“Worry not.” He smiled reassuringly. “You are not my enemy.” Not yet, anyway. The first time she uttered a command, however… He stiffened. They always uttered a command at some point.
“I guess I’m thankful for that.”
You will soon be thankful for many things, little dragon.
The silvery metal glistened in the light as he laid his weapon across the table—close enough that he had only to reach out if he needed it. With her one objection to him obliterated, she would want him in that way. He was sure of it. She confirmed his thoughts by moistening her take-me-now lips with the tip of her tongue.
He arched a brow. “Do I appear scholarly now?”
Her relief pounded through the room like a palpable force, but she said, “Not even a little.”
His shoulders rolled in as a heavy weight of disappointment settled over him. He became trapped in her sorceress-like spell, craving another glimpse of that pink tongue, unable to blink, much less look away.
His erection throbbed.
“Now that we’ve got everything settled—” she reached down and gripped his jewelry box in her hands “—we can go to bed. If you’ll follow me…” She turned and strolled away, swaying her hips in rhythm to a mating call.
A call he had every intention of answering.
CHAPTER FOUR
Your Mistress Is Never Wrong
WITH ONLY A backward glance at his talon, Tristan trailed behind Julia. He continued to watch her buttocks as she moved. Very nice. Very nice, indeed. By Elliea, he wanted her curvy little body under him…over him…beside him.
“The view is spectacular,” he said.
“Thank you. I decorated with my favorite antiques.”
“I meant—never mind.” Did the woman not realize the temptation she presented?
They passed through a room crammed with everything. Paintings, dolls and books. Jewelry, pots and pans. Even glassware.
Moving on. In the center of the next room, she stopped abruptly and pivoted around, her expression mutinous.
“Close your eyes, please,” she told him.
He did so immediately, without question, and hated himself for it, but over the years he had learned his lessons well. Obey the spell and, in turn, his guan ren, or suffer in the worst of ways. He heard the rustle of paper, the scrape of…what was that? What was the woman doing?
“All right,” she said, sounding satisfied. “You may open your eyes now.”
She stood before him in the same position as before, yet she no longer held the box; she blinked up at him as if she expected him to balk. He didn’t. How could he? Hiding the box was the action of an intelligent woman. He’d lost count of how many greedy, pleasure-minded women had stolen him. Mayhap because he’d ceased caring about who owned him. Whatever their appearance and personality, his association with them would be temporary.
“Where to next?” he asked.
“This way.” She led him into a narrow corridor. There were no trinkets here. Candles lined shelves that had been anchored to the wall, their soft golden light chasing away shadows. The fragrance of sugar and spice overlay the air.
From there, Julia showed him into a tiny bedchamber. “This is where you’ll sleep,” she told him.
He glanced around, taking in the furnishings. Each piece boasted animal embellishments. A redwood cabinet with dragons carved into the sides, a mirrored dressing table with birds, ethereal wine-colored drapes with dogs and turquoise decorative pillows with cats.
“What type of animal is that?” he asked, indicating the far wall where some kind of large, alabaster beast sprouted green leaves.
“That’s an elephant plant stand.”
Ah. “Tell me that is not the bed.” Frowning, dreading her answer, he pointed to a small boxlike structure.
“It is,” she said, her brow furrowed. “What’s wrong with it?”
“A child would not fit in such a contraption, much less two people.”
“You—you’re sleeping alone,” she sputtered. “The bed is big enough for one. Well, one normal-size man.”
She began chewing on her mouth, an action he was beginning to loathe as much as he liked. Her lips were spectacular—lush and soft and pink. They were the kind of lips that made a man willing to battle a thousand armies, just to receive a single kiss, and Tristan swore to Elliea that the next time she nibbled on those delicate morsels, he would soothe them the only way he knew how—with his tongue.
How had he ever considered this woman a plain mouse?
“Nay. I am not sleeping alone. I know you have no interest in pleasure—yet—but I will remain at your side. Where you are, there will I be as well, remember?”
Her eyes darted around the room like those of a trapped animal searching for an escape route, and she made a strangling sound in the back of her throat. She even wrapped a hand around her neck. “I don’t know you. We’re strangers. So we’re not sleeping in the same room, and that’s that.”
That was a first. And also a rejection? Is this how Zirra felt when I turned her down?
A muscle jumped in his jaw, but he nodded. “Very well. I will sleep alone.”
She continued making those choking sounds. Had he frightened her beyond reason? Concern rushing through him, he pounded a hand between her shoulder blades.
“I’m…fine…thank…you… Stop!” she managed between blows.
He did as instructed, though his palm lingered on the ridges of her spine. “You are unharmed?”
She arched her back, then twisted about at the hips, testing her range of motion. “Except for a few broken bones,” she said dryly, “I’m fine.”
Broken bones? Tristan ran his hands up and down her body to feel for the breaks. And what a body it was, all soft curves and feminine roundness. Her shoulders were small and fragile, her hips soft and voluptuous. Her breasts were even fuller than he’d thought; surely the plump
