A Warrior's Desire. Pamela Palmer
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Tarrys shifted her hands, bringing the inside of her wrist to rest on the back of his hand. He could feel her pulse racing like a raw recruit’s before his first dive.
Hot damn.
But as his gaze dipped to her mouth, he noted the tenseness of her lips and suddenly wondered if her pulse raced from fear rather than attraction. The thought slammed into him hard. Of course it was fear. She’d been Baleris’s slave, the slave of a rapist and murderer. Being this close to him … to any man … probably terrified her.
Hell.
“Now sight your target, imagine the flight of the arrow, and aim into it as you release.” Her soft words flowed over him, echoing the thread of tension he’d felt in her, confirming his fears.
A pro at compartmentalizing, he forced himself to concentrate on the weapon and target. He pulled back the string and released the arrow. Just shy of a bull’s-eye. Excellent.
“Good,” Tarrys said, a smile in her voice. He could feel her gaze on him and, while he still felt her tension, she hadn’t moved away.
With a grin, he turned to her and found her watching him with a smile, and more, in her eyes. Attraction. So he wasn’t wrong about that. But he wasn’t entirely sure he was wrong about the fear either.
He resisted the temptation to probe deeper and explore this attraction a bit. Rule number one in the Charlie Rand Book of Dating clearly read, Never date a woman you can’t escape. Tarrys lived with a Sitheen. When the relationship was over, there would be no getting away from her. And he owed her too much for her help with Baleris to do that.
There was something about Tarrys that was too innocent, too vulnerable for a casual affair and he didn’t do anything deeper. No. Mutual attraction or not, this woman was a complication with a capital C. Good for a bit of flirtation and nothing more. The kind of woman no sane man went near unless he couldn’t help himself. Unless he’d foolishly fallen head over heels in love.
And if there was one solid, immutable fact in life, it was this: Charlie Rand didn’t do love.
Chapter 2
“Damn, Rand. You look like an Esri.”
Jack Hallihan shook Charlie’s hand as Jack and his wife, Larsen, joined Charlie a few minutes before midnight in front of the Dupont Circle Fountain. The cop and his wife, two of the small band of Sitheen, each carried a flamethrower, ready to defend the world against the Esri invaders when the gate opened in a few minutes.
“A little bigger than the last time I saw you, aren’t you?” Larsen, an attractive blonde, patted Charlie’s chest. “And lumpier. What in the world are you wearing under that outfit?”
Charlie grinned. The night was clear and brisk, a cold wind stinging his cheeks. He was dressed in the Esrian Royal Guard’s uniform of silver tunic, black silk pants and black cloak. To the naked eye, he hoped to pass for an Esri. But beneath the costume, he was armed.
“Vest, T-shirt, and my gear.” Everything from a first-aid kit to C-4 charges in case he needed to blow something open to reach the princess.
“You ready for this?” Jack asked.
Charlie shook his head. “Hell if I know.” His breath fogged, glowing in the illumination from one of the streetlights. “How do you prepare for the twilight zone?”
He’d feel a hell of a lot better about this op if he could bring his team with him. Most of them were, like him, ex-SEALs. All had extensive special ops training. But he was the only one who had the trace of Esrian blood that made him immune to Esri enchantment. He’d seen Baleris turn the D.C. cops into his own personal army. The thought of an Esri turning his own men against him sent chills all the way to his toes.
Larsen gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Be careful, Charlie. We need you back.”
“I’ll be fine.” He wasn’t sure if he said the words to convince her or himself. “Where’s Tarrys? I thought you were bringing her.”
Larsen glanced to his right. “She stopped to talk to Harrison.”
Charlie turned and saw Tarrys heading toward them. Not the attractive petite who’d stirred his hormones this afternoon, but once more the Marceil slave, complete with gray sacklike slave gown, two bows slung over one shoulder and a pair of quivers on her back.
What the hell?
A growl of frustration rumbled in his throat. Harrison was behind this. His brother was the most controlling son of a bitch on the planet.
And Tarrys was playing his game. He stalked toward her. “I already told you, you’re not coming with me,” he snapped.
Tarrys stopped short, her expression filling with a wariness that bordered on fear.
Charlie caught himself, reining in his temper. “I’m not mad, eaglet. I’m not mad at you, anyway.” He stopped an arm’s length in front of her, glad to see she didn’t back away. Once again, she looked a little otherworldly. Until his gaze dropped to the hand holding the two bows, fingernails painted pink. That pink nail polish reminded him that the woman in the purple sweater and snug jeans was still in there. Her sweet scent wafted over him, heating his blood, driving home the lesson. Even dressed like Friar Tuck she stirred his interest.
She met his gaze without flinching. “You can’t go through the gate alone, Charlie Rand.”
“Yeah, I know that.” Humans didn’t possess the magical genes to get through without an escort from Esria. “But all you have to do is hand me through, right? You don’t actually have to go all the way through yourself.”
“I don’t have to stay, but I have to go through.” Her gaze broke from his and traveled to the mammoth fountain that was the location of the gate into Esria. “I will go first, then come back for you.” Her gaze slowly returned to his. “I would not have you walk into a trap.”
His gut started crawling and he looked at her sharply. “Do you have reason to believe there’s a trap waiting for me?”
Her eyes widened. “No. But as I’ve told you, I don’t have the gift of foreknowledge. If there are Esri in the area, I’ll draw less attention if I’m dressed properly.”
“If there are Esri in the area …” A chill washed over him at the thought. She’d be snatched and enslaved and there’d be no one there to protect her. “Forget it. We’re going through together. If we find Esri waiting for us, we’ll come right back.”
There was something about the little Marceil that brought out his protective instincts. Her size probably had something to do with it. But it was more than that. He’d seen her under the control of Baleris, seen the way she fought against the son of a bitch’s far superior power. And he knew she’d probably suffered serious abuse at the bastard’s hands. No way could he blithely let her go back to that.
She’d take him through the gate and come right back. Nothing more.
“The gate’s open.” Kade’s voice resonated over the park.
Charlie’s pulse leaped as he lifted his flamethrower and ran to take his place with the others. There were five of them guarding the gate tonight, four Sitheen and Kade.
Harrison stood on Charlie’s right. Jack and Larsen had taken up position across the park, on the other side of the fountain. And on Charlie’s left stood Kade, seven feet of hard-muscled immortal. Kade didn’t look Esrian, especially in his jeans and leather jacket. He’d been as surprised as the rest of them when they’d realized he was only half Esri. It turned out that both his parents, born more than fifteen centuries ago, were half human, but Kade had inherited his dad’s dark hair and Caucasian skin and his mom’s immortality. The Sitheen were more than happy to have him on their side.
He’d lived fifteen centuries in Esria until a month ago