Page 31 of Lhora
Duren reached for his drink. All this talk about weapons and fighting with another woman was strange to him. Much less a woman he now knew could easily defeat him in a one-on-one confrontation. And the ease at which they conversed… When was the last time he was this content just to be in a woman’s presence? Especially a woman who, by all accounts, was his enemy? A woman he’d just…plugged?
All right. Call it what it was. She was right earlier to call it blackmail. I’ve extorted her to have sex with me. But what about next time? Can I dare to ask her to accept me again? She’s already fulfilled her obligation. I have no right to ask her for another go with her.
Yet, she was his enemy. Technically, she was his prisoner. He could force her to submit, but if he tried, it would change the dynamics between them. And that indescribable release he’d shared with her may not happen again.
What could he say so that Lhora would accept him once more? What could he do to have her remain in his bed? “What would it take to convince her to stay with me?”
“Stay with you?”
Duren froze as Lhora cast him an amused grin.
“Why do you want to convince me to stay with you?” she repeated.
“I…”
She tossed a still damp lock of hair over her shoulder. “Let me guess. You didn’t mean to say that aloud.”
“No. I didn’t.” He might as well admit it. He’d show no embarrassment or remorse for his mistake.
She rolled her mug between her palms. “I did what you asked,” she reminded him. “You got to plug me. Now it’s your turn to fulfill your part of the bargain, right?”
“Yes. Come sunrise, one of my men will be waiting outside with a coach to take you to Kotill. As I promised.”
She took another sip. “You are a strange man, Duren. You’re nothing like your father.”
Duren frowned at her. “You have no idea how much I’m like my father,” he darkly whispered.
Placing a hand on the bed, she leaned toward him. “So why do you want me to stay with you? To plug me again?”
He fought the urge to reach for her, angry at himself for his weakness. “Yes, but that’s not all of it.”
She tilted her head. “What else is there?”
He couldn’t answer because he honestly didn’t know what to say. Why? He had no idea why.
Lhora downed the remainder of her drink and handed him her empty mug. He took it from her and set it on the floor. When he sat up, he noticed her watching him with a strange expression. Her dark green eyes dilated slightly, as if adjusting to the light being cast by the fire, then she reached over and tapped his mug he still held in his other hand.
“Put it down.”
Curious, he did as instructed. Straightening, Duren waited to see what she would do next. She continued to sit less than an arm’s length from him, an unreadable expression on her face.
“What are you thinking?” he finally asked.
“I’m wondering why you’ve kissed me everywhere but on my lips,” she whispered.
“My people only kiss those whom they love on the lips. Is it different in your culture?”
This time there was no mistaking the look of disappointment that came over her. But instead of answering his question, she leaned forward and pushed some strands of his hair away from his face.
Taking her arm, he pulled her down until she lay on her back. Bending over her, he nosed the valley between her breasts. “I want you. I mean to take you again.”
“Oh, sonowwe’re going to do it on the bed?” she teased.
“We could do it on the floor and save the bed for later,” he remarked in return.
“Or use the bed now and the floor for later?”
This back-and-forth banter made him chuckle, dispelling the cloud of anger that had threatened to rise up a moment before. “It’s your choice,” he conceded.
