Page 54 of The Seeker
“What about Glast?”
“There are many other scribes of Gabriel’s line in Glast,” he said. “They don’tneedme.”
“But they want you, don’t they?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Well, I have been told I’m very handsome.”
Meera laughed and walked past him. “I said handsome, notveryhandsome.”
“Theverywas in your voice.” He followed along the path behind her. “I could hear it. I’m very perceptive.”
She laughed louder. “And very humble.”
“Exceptionally humble, really. Very clever.”
“Do continue.” She waved her hand in royal fashion. “I need to know my new assistant’s qualifications.”
Assistant? Yes, he could be her assistant. Especially if he got to watch her walk ahead of him like this, her hips swaying beneath another bright summer dress. “I’m also very curious.”
“And very persistent?”
“Verypersistent.” He caught up with her. “And very… attracted.”
She stopped walking, but she didn’t look at him.
“Meera,” he said softly. “Surely you feel—”
“It’s not a good idea, Rhys.”
“Why? Because you don’t have relationships with Irin men?”
“That’s one of the reasons.”
“So you’ve never experienced—”
“Don’t assume.” She turned and looked up at him. A hint of the mischievous woman he’d met in New Orleans had returned. “There are songs of sacred lovemaking that are taught only by the singers of Udaipur. Scrolls of magical congress preserved by the Tomir warriors.” Her gaze was direct. “I am well-educated inallaspects of Irina history.”
She walked away, leaving Rhys’s mind reeling.
Scrolls of magical congress? He thought he’d read everything, but he hadn’t read those. His mind was churning and his body was screaming for him to follow Meera.
Tell me more.
Show me more.
Heaven above,pleaseshow me more.
A loud bell rang at the main house, signaling the start of the midday meal.
Roch and Sabinehid themselves away for the rest of the day, but Roch found him the next morning before Rhys had found any tea.
“Yes?” He opened the door of the small guest cottage. “Oh, it’s you. Good morning. Where can I find some damned tea?”
Roch smiled. “Main house will have it. Patiala only drinks tea, so there’s always hot water on the stove.”
“Good.” Rhys scratched the stubble he been indulging for the past few days and squinted at the bright morning on the farm. Verdant lawn stretched to the cane fields, dotted by cottages and small garden plots. Smoke rose from the outdoor kitchen behind the house, and he could already hear hammers and saws going. The haven was a hive of activity.
“How many scribes live here?” he asked.
