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Her shoulders relaxed and Ash could see the relief wash across her face.
“Back so soon?” she asked, desperate to change the subject.
“Just a quick supply run,” he explained. He looked beyond tired. He looked drained, like something was weighing heavy on his conscience, and Rosalie wanted to reach out to him. She stepped towards him and touched his cheek. He leaned into her hand, then took it in his and pressed it to his lips.
Her body warmed with desire as she imagined how his lips would feel against hers. She knew it was pointless to deny how she felt. She wanted him. Mind made up, she asked in a sultry voice, “Should we go back to our room?”
Ash stared back at her. His face clouded in confusion, but he fell into step beside her.
Rosalie’s heart thudded in her chest as she led the way back to room 4. Once inside, she locked the door so they wouldn’t be disturbed. She checked that the curtains were secure before she moved towards him, pressing herself against him. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, then his lips.
At first, Ash was taken back. He knew he should push her away, but instead he found himself lengthening the kiss. His conscience took flight and his breathing became erratic. He unbuttoned her blouse. Her lacy, black bra fastened in the front and he unhooked it with one hand, freeing her breasts. She gasped as he pushed her shirt and bra straps off her shoulders and caressed her skin. She basked in his warmth and marveled at his experienced hands. They were large, callused, and every touch made her shiver with pleasure.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked.
Rosalie nodded.
“If you’re doing this because you’re afraid of me…”
“I’m not afraid of you.” Her eyes were ablaze with passion.
He leaned in to kiss her again, but then stopped himself. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” He backed away from her.
“Why not?” she asked, her cheeks warming with the sting of rejection. She could feel her throat tighten as her confidence faltered.
“Rosalie, you are beautiful. I want you. Maybe more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But you’re my prisoner. It would be wrong. I’d be taking advantage.”
“I’m asking you to take advantage of me.” She hesitated, then took a step closer.
He smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Believe me, you have no idea how bad I want to.” He wrestled with his desires as he fought to remain strong against her; for her. “But I promise you, it’s not going to gain you your freedom. It’s not going to alter my actions or make me return you or anything else to your village. My mission is firm. It goes beyond the desire I have for you.”
She nodded. “I understand. I do.”
He gazed at her, longingly. Slowly, tenderly, he traced her jawline with his fingertips, then tipped her chin upwards. His eyes bore into hers. “But if things were different…”
“I wasn’t finished,” she interrupted. Her green, almond-shaped eyes burned. “I understand what you’re saying. And knowing that, I still want you.”
“Roe.”
He sounded pained and she shuddered with pleasure as the intimate nickname rolled off his tongue. “Please don’t make me beg,” she whispered.
“I can’t…”
“Please,” she said hoarsely. “I know it won’t change anything. And I can’t explain the way I feel, but I’m fairly certain if you don’t make love to me right now, I may never forgive you.” A single tear escaped and ran down her cheek, surprising them both.
Ash reached up to wipe away the tear with his thumb and Rosalie’s hand closed over his. She moved his hand downward, letting it rest on her exposed bosom. Her breasts were small, but firm, and his heartrate spiked. He gave up trying to be chivalrous. He tore the shirt and bra from her body and ran his teeth over each nipple. “Tell me again you want me,” he growled. He needed to hear it – needed to be sure.
“I want all of you,” she panted as her hands loosened his belt buckle and she yanked down his pants. “Please, Ash. Make love to me.”
He knew she might hate him in the morning; maybe he’d hate himself. But he could no longer resist her pleas. He kicked out of his pants and briefs before returning his focus to her. He removed her leather skirt and tossed it in the corner. She wasn’t wearing panties, a fact that pleased him but somehow didn’t come as a shock. Rosalie shivered as he untied the sheathed knife from her thigh.
Naked, they fell together onto the bed, lost in each other. Ash’s lips claimed her throat, then her mouth. His fingers found the folds of her womanhood and he slid his fingers inside her. She bucked wildly in anticipation. “Ash,” she cried out as he tormented her with his hands. Her fingernails dug into his back and she pulled him closer. He wasn’t her first, but her body writhed with impatience and desire as if it was her first time.
“You ready?” he asked. He was hard and ached to feel her.
When she nodded, he slid his way inside her. His need was intense, and his movements were greedy and rough. Rosalie didn’t mind. She needed to feel all of him. Weeks of frustration built up inside her and she longed to feel his punishing thrusts.
“Is this what you needed, Roe?” he asked wickedly, brushing his lips across her ear.
In response, she lifted her hips and met his urgent rhythm.
When it was over, they both lay panting. Rosalie braced herself for Ash to announce he was going to sleep on the floor, but he snuggled up to her instead, pulling her into his arms so her head rested on his torso. She smiled with satisfaction. She could hear the pounding in his chest and his labored breathing in response to their lovemaking.
He kissed the top of her head and held her tight, draping one leg over hers. Perhaps he thought she would try to escape, but she had no intention of doing so. She felt confounding contentment in the arms of her captor.
When morning came, Rosalie was pleased to discover Ash was still in bed with her. She awoke nestled in his arms. She sighed and moved in closer, feeling the swell of him beside her. “I gather you’re awake.”
Ash chuckled. “I’ve been lying here thinking about all the ways I could take advantage of you while you slept.” But she knew he was teasing. Despite giving into her, he was too honorable a man to do any such thing.
A long pause followed as she considered where they would go from there.
“You okay about last night?” he asked, breaking the silence. He would only feel regret if she did. Moments stretched into eternity as he waited for her answer.
“Last night,” she finally said, “you called me Roe.”
“And?”
“Only my friends call me Roe.”
She sat up in bed and stared over at him. He smoothed her hair and held her intense gaze. “I heard Talon call you that. I liked it. It suits you. Is it okay if I call you Roe?”
She paused to consider. She loved to hear it on his lips. But it felt so intimate, and she didn’t want to confuse her feelings for him. Despite her worries, she found herself saying, “Yes.”
She laid her head back on his chest. He stroked her hair. Neither wanted to move. Ash worried he’d been too rough with her, but her body language suggested otherwise. His desire stirred as he remembered the way she’d given into her hunger and begged for her release. His fingers trailed to her bare buttocks, then up her side. She squirmed.
“Are you ticklish?”
“Very.”
When he stroked her side again, she giggled and tried to escape his touch. Her laugh was care-free. It was the first time he had heard it. He reached out and touched her face. His thumb traced her lips. “I love your laugh,” he admitted.
His hypnotic blue eyes drew her to him. She found herself leaning in to kiss him. Her eyes closed, and her lips parted as they met his. He swept his tongue inside her mouth and she whimpered with pleasure.
This time, when Ash entered her, his movements were slow and careful. He wanted to make the moment last. He wanted to hear Rosalie moan with longing and appreciation as he too
k his time with her. “You’re so beautiful, Roe,” he whispered.
She smiled up at him, then closed her eyes and let herself get lost in his movements. She matched his careful rhythm, all the while pretending he was hers to keep. Her worries from before resurfaced, but she knew it was too late. Her judgement was already clouded. She was already lost in her feelings for him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“You seem off today,” Stryker observed. The small army had been riding for over an hour towards the village of Bachtoy, and while Ash would normally keep everyone’s spirits high with stories of past victories, or tales from his rebellious youth, today he was unusually quiet.
“How so?” Ash straightened in the saddle and focused on the road ahead.
“I mean you are wearing a stupid grin and appear to have an entirely different conquest on your mind.”
Ash’s smile faded in response to Stryker’s innuendo and was replaced by a look of determination. “I assure you I am only thinking of this mission.”
“Uh huh. Did you finally take her?”
Ash’s hands tightened on the reins. He turned to face his friend. “It’s not like that.”
“Then what’s it like? C’mon, spill. The rest of us have to face the cool nights alone. The least you can do is tell us how she tastes.”
Without warning, Ash made a fist and busted Stryker in the teeth.
Startled, he fell off his horse, landing hard on the rough terrain below. His right arm bore the brunt of the fall. “You hit me!” he bellowed, scrambling to his feet and wiping the blood from his mouth.
In an instant Ash was off his horse and the two men stood toe to toe. “I won’t permit you to talk about her that way.”
“Oh, you won’t permit me?” Stryker swung hard, but Ash ducked his swing and landed a punch to Stryker’s midsection. His knees buckled at the blow. “I’ll kill you,” he screamed. He tackled Ash at the knees and the two men fell to the ground. They rolled around thrashing until Ash tossed Stryker off him and stood to his feet. Stryker stood, brushing the dirt from his pantlegs. He lunged at Ash once more.
“Easy. Easy.” Stryker’s brother, Dillinger, stepped in between the two men, nearly taking an elbow to his eye for his troubles. “You two are friends. Are you really going to risk that for some woman?”
When Ash started to apologize, Stryker shoved him hard. “Some of us would, I guess.” Disgusted, he turned back to his horse.
Narrowing his eyes, Dillinger turned accusingly towards Ash, who mumbled something under his breath. “We done here?” Dillinger asked. “Because last I checked, we had a mission to accomplish.”
Ash looked around at the army of men. Many had dismounted and were standing around nervously. All eyes were on him. “We’re done. Now everyone can stop gawking. Mount up and let’s move.”
Stryker rode out ahead, Dillinger by his side, and Ash directly behind them. “We may want to call off the raid today if everyone’s head isn’t in the game,” Dillinger told Stryker, but loud enough for Ash to hear.
Ash nudged his horse forward, coming up beside the two men. He glanced over at them and grunted. “Let Stryker worry about his own pretty head. Mine’s just fine.” His face broke into a mischievous grin.
Dillinger laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Stryker barked.
“Well, you are sort of pretty,” his brother teased.
Ash laughed too, a deep, boisterous laugh that started in his belly.
Despite his efforts to remain angry, a smile tugged at the corner of Stryker’s mouth. “Ain’t many people accused me of being pretty. Especially another man.”
Ash slapped his friend on the back. “Don’t get too used to it.”
Both men knew it was the closest either would come to an apology.
“I brought you something,” Ash told Rosalie when he returned. From behind his back he produced a lumpy package wrapped in brown paper. He was grinning, clearly pleased with himself – but he appeared apprehensive to what her reaction might be.
She wanted to ask if he’d stolen it from one of the villages, but she didn’t want to dampen his mood. She hesitated before taking the package.
“I bought it at a little store just outside of town,” he explained.
Rosalie’s ears turned pink and she wondered if it had been that obvious, what she was thinking. Ash was smiling, so she smiled back at him as she carefully opened the wrinkled packaging.
Inside was a hairbrush, two pairs of pants, three shirts, and several pairs of panties. Nothing fancy, but everything looked roughly her size. “New clothes,” she said, surprised.
“I thought you could use some clothes that fit.”
She grinned widely, then hugged him. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.”
“Well, really it’s for me,” he teased. “Your clothes are not warm enough for the changing season – not to mention being scandalously short – and I’ve grown a bit tired of seeing you in those drab, used clothes I gave you.”
She shoved him playfully. “I thought I was pulling them off just fine.”
He kissed her softly on the mouth. “I suppose you were.”
CHAPTER NINE
Rosalie propped an elbow on the pillow and supported her head in her hand. She gazed over at Ash and pondered the man she saw before her. The man whose bed she’d been sharing for the past several nights and whom she still knew so little about.
“What do you like?” she finally asked.
“What do you mean?” He stared back at her, wearing a puzzled expression.
“I mean, what do you like? What do you do for fun? You know, when you’re not conquering villages and dragging women back to your lair.”
A flicker of sadness shadowed his handsome face, but he recovered quickly and flashed a broad smile.
“I like this,” he said, skimming his index finger over her bare thigh.
She shivered with pleasure at the way his touch spread warmth over her body. “What else? Dig deeper.”
He paused and closed his eyes, gathering his thoughts. Then he opened them again and grinned back at her. “I like grilled cheese sandwiches,” he said playfully as he planted a kiss on her chin. She squealed with delight. “I like riding bareback through the rain.” His mouth found hers and her lips responded, drinking him in.
“Go on,” she said, coming up for air.
“Hmm. Back home, when I had a home, I liked playing cards with friends.” He continued to smile, but sadness once again marred his features.
“So, if I rode up bareback on a horse, holding a grilled cheese sandwich and a deck of cards?”
He chuckled. “I might like you too.”
“Dang, you’re a hard man to please,” she teased. She pulled him towards her.
“I think I like you even without the sandwich,” he said softly as he placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. This time it was her turn to be sad. She had fallen harder than she was willing to admit – especially to herself.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just thinking.”
“About?”
Silence followed as a thousand thoughts and insecurities bounced around in her head.
“When you grow tired of me, would you ever pass me off?” she finally blurted out.
Ash wanted to laugh but noticed Rosalie’s unsmiling face. “Is that seriously what you think of me?” He’d feel insulted if he wasn’t so surprised.
“Well, not necessarily, but then again, I really don’t know you.”
“I’d say you know me more intimately than most.” He flashed her a wicked grin and gave her hair a playful tug.
“Would you?” she asked again. Her cheeks burned. “I mean, what if your leader wanted to…” Her voice trailed off and she shivered at the thought.
“Roe, I give you my word, no one else will touch you,” he told her. “Besides, I don’t plan to tire of you.” He nipped at her shoulder and rolled her over onto her stomach. She squealed as he smoth
ered her backside in kisses and slapped her playfully on the rear. When his fingers touched the scar on her shoulder blade, she tensed.
“How did you get this?”
“Ugly, right?”
“No, Love. Nothing about you is ugly. I was just curious.” She felt the warmth of his mouth on her marred skin.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she admitted. “Brings up too many painful memories.” She rolled onto her back and gazed up at him. Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes misted. “Is that okay?”
He touched her warm cheek and leaned in close. “You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to,” he assured her. “But I’m here if there is anything you’d like to.”
His words were gentle, but they stabbed at her heart. They made her care about him; and she didn’t want to care. She knew it couldn’t end well for them. They each had their own mission to accomplish. And their missions, whether Ash realized it or not, were headed in different directions.
When Ash slipped out of his room that evening under the cover of night, Stryker was already waiting for him on the other side of the door.
“Ready?” Stryker asked.
Ash secured a stocking cap on his head, tugging it over his hair and ears. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Do you think anything’s changed?” The hope in his voice was fading and Stryker didn’t respond.
Cloaked by the darkness, the pair walked in silence towards the secluded room in the back of the hostel, using the dimly lit walkways as a guide. The night air was chilling – evidence the clement season was coming to a close. Ash shoved his hands into his pants pockets and marveled at the way Stryker appeared unaffected by the bitter cold.
“Really, you’re not the least bit cold?” he finally asked. His fingertips felt like icicles and his breath froze as it passed his lips.
Stryker laughed. “It’s not even the harvest season yet. You’ve been hanging out with women too long.”
His tone was good-natured, but Ash detected a trace of judgement. He felt a surge of warmth as he thought of Rosalie. “We need her,” he defended.