Page 23 of Hot Zone

His fists clenched, and for a startled moment she thought he might actually strike her. But instead he spun away, cursing violently.

She released her breath slowly. She got the distinct feeling she had just played with fire and somehow managed to escape unscathed. Barely.

Obviously, she and this man were oil and water. They needed to stay away from each other, lest they drive each other completely crazy.

“I’m going back to the palace,” she announced quietly. Without waiting for him to follow, she turned and started down the mountainside.

Out of reflex more than conscious thought, she cast her awareness outward to see if she could pick up the direction of the medallion again. Before Rustam had kissed her senseless, or whatever the heck that had been up there, she’d gotten the vague impression that the bronze piece was well east of her current position and possibly moving south.

No surprise, now she was getting nothing but chaos. That man seriously messed with her head. Not to mention her talent—

Her random thoughts screeched to an abrupt halt. Rustam messed with her psychic ability. She’d been able to sense the medallion last night until he’d come into the room. When he’d climbed on her bed, she’d briefly sensed it again, and then she’d kissed his lights out and lost her connection to the piece again. Today, she’d had it briefly up on top of that mountain, and then he’d kissed her, and poof! No more medallion.

Clearly it was time for her to leave the exalted presence of Biceps Boy and go after that bronze wedge by herself, far, far away from his corrupting influence.

Even if he did kiss like a god.

She might not have kissed all that many guys in her day, but there was no doubt in her mind this man was in a class by himself when it came to kissing. Even now, she craved more of him and his magical mouth. And she was not a craving kind of girl.

When she reached the army encampment, she experienced a moment of real trepidation. She had to make her way across a good chunk of the camp, alone. In provocative clothing designed to make her look like a courtesan.

She would feel much safer with Rustam’s towering strength at her side as she hesitated on the shore of the sea of men. I’m an army officer, dammit! I know how to walk among the rank and file and not get messed with. Of course, the rank and file she strolled past back home were eminently more civilized than this bunch.

No help for it. She squared her shoulders, assumed a don’t-mess-with-me glare and waded into the jumble of tents.

She was abjectly relieved to reach the palace complex in one piece. That was not a route she would attempt alone at night, nor one, frankly, she would like to try again in broad daylight. She felt as if she’d just walked through the worst of crime-ridden neighborhoods and survived by sheer, dumb luck.

She had to leave this place and head east and south if she was going to accomplish her mission. It was early afternoon now. By the time she procured supplies for the journey, it would probably be too late to leave today—especially with Xerxes’s army to get around. First thing in the morning, then.

Thankfully, the gold coins Athena had sent with her went a long way in the city’s main marketplace. With a mobile army all around her, finding a horse, saddle, bedroll, water skins and a sack of dried food posed no great difficulty.

Hauling her new gear back to her room garnered her no end of strange looks, however. Apparently, ladies of her rank didn’t usually fetch and carry. But she’d be damned if she would force Malah or some other slave to do manual labor for her when she was plenty strong and fit enough to do it for herself. Let them think her an oddball foreigner. She could live with that, and she would be gone soon enough.

When Tessa arrived at her room, she stowed her supplies beneath her bed. It worried her not to be able to lock her room. She didn’t want to be robbed while she attended tonight’s feast. That morning, Artemesia had ordered her to do so, and Tessa hadn’t a clue what might happen if she turned the imperious queen down. Instead, she’d meekly consented to come to the feast.

If she was lucky, maybe Rustam wouldn’t show up. She could eat a little supper, pay her polite respects to Artemesia, and then slip away and get a good night’s sleep before she set out.

But when Malah arrived at sunset, carrying a pale blue gown over her arm, so sheer the girl’s skin was visible through several layers of the fabric, Tessa had serious second thoughts about the whole venture.

“I can’t wear that!” she exclaimed as Malah shook out the gown for her.

“You have no choice, my lady. Artemesia sent it for you. You will give her grave insult do you not wear it.”

“But…it’s see-through!”

Malah frowned. “’Tis the fashion, ma’am. And you’ve a nice enough figure for your height.”

Tessa grimaced at the backhanded compliment. “I refuse to parade around at an orgy dressed in that thing. I’d be asking to be jumped by every male in the room!”

The servant’s mouth twitched. “I believe that is precisely the idea, my lady.”

She rolled her eyes. Now what? She dared not offend Artemesia. Especially not after Rustam’s earlier warning about those who crossed the queen ending up dead. But Tessa couldn’t possibly go out in that…negligee!

“Can we put my white shift under it?” she asked.

Malah considered. “We would have to add a belt…. I could probably borrow one from Artemesia’s wardrobe. I can ask her chief dresser if you like….”

“Just don’t make it too nice a belt. I’m told she doesn’t like to be outshone.”

---