Page 11 of Company of Thieves
“He would never behave in such a reprehensible manner. There, you see?” he said in her ear. “Now you have been introduced to him, and nothing bad has happened to you.”
“That’s just because you’re here.” She remained in a locked position. “The second you so much as look anywhere else, it’ll be over for me.”
“Hallie,” he said.
Slowly, her head turned to look at him, her eyes wide.
“Breathe, little desert dove. You’ll swoon if you don’t, and that might startle Sampson, who, while a patient and understanding horse, has no experience with women swooning at his feet.”
“Oh my god. I don’t want that. Nobody move! We don’t want to startle the very big horsey.”
“Take a slow breath in,” he said, worried she might very well faint.
“OK. I got this. I know how to breathe. I do it all the time. Yes. I will breathe.” She breathed in a long, ragged breath, her head turning back to look at the horse.
He took her hand and moved it over to Sampson’s soft muzzle, letting her fingers run along it. “Now, shall we try this again? This time without you throwing us off his back.”
“He’s gonna eat me!” Her voice was hoarse, a rough whisper that triggered a need in him to protect her.
Dammit, she wasn’t one of his sisters—which was a good thing, since the thoughts that crept around the edges of his mind were wholly inappropriate—and what’s more, she had a perfectly good brother to take care of her. She didn’t need him to do the job.
And yet, there he was, wanting to do just that.
“Sampson doesn’t eat people. He does, however, like carrots and apples. Next time, we will make sure you have such treats for him, and you will see that he is very gentle. Can you walk?”
“No,” she said in a high-pitched, pathetic voice. “I think my legs are frozen with terror.”
He gave a brief chuckle despite the fact that Akbar did not indulge in such things, and, lifting her again, carried her over to the saddle.
“I changed my mind. Icanwalk. In fact, I prefer it.”
“You would be too slow to keep up with us,” he said, nodding to Zand, who had been watching the scene with a little smile hidden in the end of his turban.
Zand immediately gave orders for the company to mount up and instructed the scouts to return to their patrol.
“I could run. I like to run, too. I’m not very fast, because I have notoriously weak ankles that I inherited from my mother, ones that were so feeble they kept me from ice-skating when all my friends had ice-skating birthday parties, but I’m perfectly happy to run now.”
Alan, feeling that more than enough effort had been spent making her feel comfortable with Sampson, simply hoisted her into the saddle, and before she had time to do more than stiffen up, he mounted behind her, sliding himself to the back of the saddle in order to give her room.
As he suspected, he was very much aware of her ass pressed into his groin, and of her legs tight against his. He took the reins, and pressed his heels to Sampson, his body moving easily when the great horse leaped forward, anxious to get back to his stable.
