Page 35 of Thorns & Fire
Their boots squelched in the mud as they worked together to spread out the canvas, careful not to touch one another again.
Torj used his war hammer to nail the pegs into the wet earth, while Wren threaded the poles through their respective loops.‘Do you think it’ll hold?’she asked over the downpour.
‘Once we’re inside it should be fine,’ Torj told her.‘Hold this corner for me.’He handed Wren a stake for the ground, theirfingers grazing for a moment, sending an electrical current through Wren that made the storm above shudder.
Together, they wrestled with the tent in the howling wind.Wren couldn’t stop her gaze from lingering on the Warsword’s strong hands working over the ropes, securing them in place, his shirt completely plastered to his muscular torso.
‘You alright?’he asked, wiping the rain from his eyes, spotting her labouring over a particularly stubborn knot in her own rope.
‘I—’
But Torj was already moving behind her, reaching around to guide her hands.‘Like this.’
His breath was warm against her ear, and Wren felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.
As the last peg was driven into the sodden earth, Torj motioned to the entrance of the tent.‘Get inside.’
Wren reached for the flap, but paused on the threshold.‘You’re not coming in?’
‘It’s a two-man tent.’
‘And we are two people.’
A flush crept up the Bear Slayer’s neck.‘Uh...’
‘You’re really going to quibble over logistics in this?’Wren motioned to the relentless skies.‘Don’t be an idiot.You’ll catch your death.’She ducked under the flap and crawled into the shelter.
It was only when she was inside, with the sudden absence of wind and rain allowing her to think, that she realized what the Bear Slayer had been objecting to.It may have been a two-man tent, but the Warsword was bigger than the average man.Muchbigger—
A pack was thrown in after her.
‘There should be a dry blanket in there.’The Warsword’s voice drifted inside, and then the warrior himself climbed through the tent entrance.
The small space felt so much more confined with Torj’s huge frame inside, their shoulders already brushing as he fumbled witha small lantern, at last managing to light it and hang it from one of the poles across the top.
They both took a breath, and suddenly, Wren became all too aware of how her drenched gown clung to her skin.Her nipples were hard and sensitive against the rough fabric, and the way Torj was pointedly staring at the tent wall told her that he’d noticed the same thing.
Think of your opus, she told herself.The clock is ticking.You need to find the silvertide rose and recreate the cure, not get caught up inhimagain.
Wren steeled herself.‘We need to get out of these wet clothes,’ she said, almost expecting him to protest.
Torj’s voice was low and husky.‘I know.’
Wren’s cheeks flamed.The thought of undressing in front of him...She was immediately brought back to their time in the meadow, where he’d sheathed himself inside her, where she’d come undone around his cock, pleasure rippling through her to the point of madness.
‘I’ll turn around,’ Torj told her, shuffling on his knees, presenting his back to her.Wren could see the muscles bunching beneath his translucent shirt.For a moment, she simply stared, willing herself not to trace the corded sinew there.Then she remembered his burns, and worry speared through her – a practical concern; nothing more.
As though he could feel her eyes boring into him, Torj shifted.‘Embervale?’
‘Don’t look,’ she warned him, her trembling fingers reaching for the ties of her apron.She wasn’t sure if it was the cold or something else that had her shaking.Wincing as the icy air hit her wet skin, Wren began to peel off her soaked garments, hanging them as best she could from the poles within the tent.The sound of drenched fabric slapping against her as she wrangled it off seemed unnaturally loud in the confined space, and it was all the more heightened by Torj’s presence.
When she’d removed the top half of her apron and gown, herfingers struggled with the laces at the back of her skirts.Cursing, she pulled at them, only to find the wet knots tighter than before.
‘Everything alright?’Torj asked quietly.
Wren let out a cry of frustration.‘No.’Her hands crept up to cover her breasts.‘I need your help with the laces...’
She heard his sharp inhale, and the sound of wet material rustling as he turned around.With her back to him, she couldn’t see his expression, but she felt his warm breath ghost over her bare skin, his gentle fingers settling at the small of her back where the troublesome laces held her captive.
