Page 33 of Company of Thieves
“I don’t give a damn if you eat every last one, woman,” he snarled, glaring at the narrow line of leg he could see through the slit in her dress. “I do, however, object to you exposing yourself to my men.”
“I beg your pardon?” She looked first at her chest, then peered to the side where he was looking. The movement caused the material of the dress to swing back, revealing even more leg. “Where? Is it tucked up in the back?”
“Your legs,” he said, reminding himself that she was not used to Moghul clothing, or even, heaven help him, the limb-covering clothing worn by ladies in Europe. He had no idea of the sorts of garments that women wore in the Americas, but he suspected they were of the type that would raise his blood pressure. “They are exposed so that anyone might see them.”
She was silent for a moment, then looked down at the tunic. “That’s how this came.”
“You are supposed to wear trousers under it.”
“You’re kidding.”
He thinned his lips at her.
“Wow. You’re not kidding.” She glanced around the room. The men, who were still, he was unhappy to note, watching her with an avidity that annoyed him to the utmost, hastily turned back to their meals upon receipt of a pointed look that he sent to each and every one of them. “I’m sorry, Alan, I thought this was a dress. I’ll put on some pants after I eat, OK?”
He crossed his arms over his chest, biting back his body’s demand to take her straight back to his bed, where he could sate himself in her heat.
“Fine!” she said, handing him her bowl of yogurt and fruit, and a small plate with a sticky bun. “Hold that for me.”
She left the room, muttering things under her breath.
“Nicely handled,” Zand said as he passed by, en route to the door. Alan quite clearly heard the laughter in his voice. “Smooth, very smooth.”
“I can have you beheaded, you know,” Alan called after him. “My men would be happy to do it. Wouldn’t you?” He directed the last sentence to the men at the tables.
They all avoided meeting his eyes. He sighed to himself, realizing that he was going to have to apologize to Hallie.
She returned a half minute later, wearing a proper pair of trousers under the tunic. The men all looked disappointed by this, but he was much happier.
“Honestly, I knew you guys are really narrow-minded when it comes to women’s rights and all, but I would have thought you could have borne up under the horror of a little leg.” She held her arms out and did a spin. “Better?”
“So far as allowing others to view your bare legs? Infinitely so,” he said, handing her back her breakfast, then leaned down to whisper, “I like yogurt, too. I look forward to licking it off of those legs that you insist on showing to everyone. I will happily do so tonight. I have a couple of things I’d like to show you that I can do with two knuckles, as well.”
He left her fanning herself with a napkin.
Less than an hour later, they landed at Tozeur, having stopped during the night to take on some supplies that he’d arranged for in advance, which Zand oversaw while he was busy with Hallie.
He ordered Leila’s things to be taken to his tent, telling Hallie that she would stay there with him.
“Assuming you approve of that plan,” he said, gesturing toward the bed that sat in the tent.
She eyed first it, then him. “Thank you, I would like that.”
“You may consider this your home, then, at least for so long as we are here,” he told her, wanting badly to take her to bed despite the fact that she’d damned near killed him earlier that morning with the intensity of her lovemaking. “Feel free to use any of my things as you like.”
Her eyes lit.
“Except my weapons,” he said quickly.
She made a face at him. “Spoilsport.”
“No, just prudent. You aren’t ready for anything with a sharp blade yet.”
“Ha! Shows what you know. I almost gutted Etienne last night,” she tossed casually over her shoulder as she went to examine herself in his shaving mirror, fussing with her hair.
“You what?” The words came out at a louder volume than he intended. He was on her in a second, staring down into startled green eyes. “When did you see Etienne? Do you know him? You’re not part of the Black Hand, are you?”
“Of course not. He swore a vendetta against all of us when he kicked out my sister-in-law, although admittedly she did steal the best of his airships.” She eyed his chest, her lips twisting. “Is that what you’re going to wear today? No armor? Just the gold tunic?”
