Page 32 of Hot Zone

He shook himself. “Right.” After checking the hall, he took off running again.

He spotted a small, unmarked door a minute later. Perfect. It led to a series of chambers Artemesia used for…discreet assignations. Which was to say, when she wanted to seduce a man whose wife might object, she arranged for trysts in these little-used guest quarters. Best yet, the suites opened onto avenues passing the far side of the palace.

But when they got to the street, the night was far from quiet, as a gigantic army prepared to move in the morn. “We’ve got to cover your hair,” Rustam murmured.

Tessa thought for a second, then said, “I’ve got just the thing.” She dug into one of her bags, pulled out a shawl of dark-colored cloth and draped it over her head.

He reached out to tuck in a strand of loose hair for her. Her fair features glowed like the moon overhead, pale and perfect. No statue had ever been so beautifully carved. But unlike marble, her skin was warm and soft beneath his fingertips, vibrating with life force so strong it danced all the way up his arm. He swayed toward her, drawn to her glorious energy like a moth to flame.

Her lips parted slightly as she gazed up at him. He knew she would taste like honey and spices. Her lips would be warm and yielding beneath his, her teeth smooth and even. Her tongue would dart around his, driving him out of his mind—

They had to go. Soon. Before word reached the stables to seize them. He growled, “Stay close behind me.”

She nodded briskly. He liked that about her. She was no weak and fussy female who fluttered her hands helplessly and feared to do anything new. She just nodded her head and dived in, all business, to do what had to be done.

He stepped forward onto the wide, paved avenue. These Greeks certainly built good roads. He walked confidently but not so quickly as to draw attention.

A group of soldiers rounded a corner well behind them, and Rustam melted into the next alley. He sprinted down it flat out, half lifting, half dragging Tessa beside him. He plastered himself against the wall and she did the same beside him. He peeked cautiously into the next street. All clear.

He slipped around the corner and took off walking again. Tessa breathed deeply beside him but didn’t sound overly winded. Thank the gods. They might make it out of this mess yet.

“Where is your horse?” he asked under his breath.

“She’s housed in the small royal barn.”

Rustam murmured, “Perfect. My steed is housed there, as well.”

He dodged into another dark, twisting street. This one was narrow and lined with brothels. Usually the resident females flocked to their doors to call out lewd offers to him. But tonight, he was lucky. They were all otherwise occupied, which, now that he thought about it, was predictable the night before a great campaign commenced. He and Tessa made it all the way to the far end of the lane without seeing a soul.

They emerged into a large, hard-packed dirt square. The south practice yard of the royal stables. Tonight, the space flickered with plentiful torches. Farriers trimmed horses’ hooves while smiths checked and repaired various pieces of equine armor.

“Try to look like my servant,” he instructed Tessa. “Stay a pace behind me.”

She nodded and promptly cast her gaze to the ground.

“Slump your shoulders. Look more downtrodden. And try to think the thoughts of an unattractive woman.”

That occasioned a quick glance up at him, her eyes dancing with humor, but then she did as he ordered.

He turned and started across the square. With each step, he expected someone to shout at him, to order him to halt and surrender himself.

This was madness, of course, to flee on the eve of a battle. Even if the drunk princes never recovered their memory of events to accuse him and Tessa of assault, the two of them could not help but be suspected of spying for the Greeks. Why else would they flee in the middle of the night, hours before Xerxes moved on Thermopylae?

Rustam sighed. After being stranded in Persia, he’d spent nearly two years in Halicarnassus, and then Susa, with Artemesia. He’d established himself as an intelligent, educated man. A wise advisor. An innovative thinker who was an asset not only to his queen but also to Xerxes himself.

Now he was going to throw all of that away. And for what? A blond stranger with a violet aura and eyes he could lose himself in forever.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He didn’t live to chase women. They pined after him. When one caught his fancy, or he needed to slake simple lust, there was always an eager female about. But here he was, chasing after Tessa like a randy colt.

The sprawling stables before him were a beehive of activity. Soldiers and grooms were hard at work, making sure all was in readiness for tomorrow’s march.

Rustam was well known among these men for his extraordinary skill when it came to handling the most difficult horses. They often called upon him to help train problem mounts. Thankfully, none of his acquaintances raised an alarm upon spotting him. Word hadn’t reached here yet to stop them, then.

“Where’s your horse?” he murmured.

Tessa took the lead, moving quickly to the stall of a big, gray desert-bred mare. “I bought her this afternoon.”

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