“Mademoiselle.” He reached out and took hold of Elise’s hand. “I’m told he”—Simon nodded at Jules—“has manners, but to date, I’ve seen no sign of them. I’m Simon Boulenger. Who might you be?”
“This is Elise Marquette,” Jules answered for her. The foreign emotion twisting in his gut was disconcerting and utterly absurd. So was his desire to rip Simon’s hand off Elise. One good fuck and he was reacting like this?
“Elise Marquette,” Simon repeated. “Lovely name. Enchanté .” He kissed Elise’s hand.
Jules gritted his teeth and had to look away.
“Tell me, Elise,” he heard Simon say, “are there other women in this forest as beautiful as you?”
“Why don’t you go search for one?” Jules suggested. “I believe there is a cliff in that direction.” He pointed left.
Simon shook his head, feigning dismay. “Ungracious, isn’t he? If he is this rude to you, mademoiselle, you need only advise me, and I’ll set him straight.”
Sabine had no idea who the attractive man holding her hand was, nor did she care.
They’re taking the silver!
Jules and his friend were both tall men. She wanted them to move so she could better see what was happening. So she could think of a way to stop them from taking the chests. She couldn’t lose the silver.
She just couldn’t.
“Elise?” The sound of Jules’s voice captured her attention. The stranger had released her hand, and Jules was now cupping her cheek. She didn’t need the distraction of his touch. She needed to think of something.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “You’re flushed.”
No! She wasn’t all right! “I’m fine. Just a bit of a headache.”
Afraid Jules would force her to return to their private clearing, away from what was happening in the camp, she rushed around the two men to a fallen tree near the ashes of the campfire and sat down.
Surreptitiously, she watched what the men were doing from behind the veil of her hair while she massaged her temples, pretending to knead away the ache.
Stop . Stop taking the silver away!
Suddenly her view was obstructed by Jules’s body. He was down on his haunches before her, studying her silently. Further unnerving her.
“Are you certain it is only a headache that ails you?” he asked.
She had to collect herself. He was no fool. And he was questioning her behavior. She was making him suspicious.
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she formed a smile. “I’m sorry. I realize I’m behaving foolishly. I woke up, and you were gone. Then I came here and saw all these men . . . I was simply taken by surprise and I overreacted. I don’t like surprises.” She glanced past his shoulder to the men near the carts. “In my experience, they’ve never been a good thing.” This wasn’t supposed to happen. The rendezvous wasn’t supposed to occur for another four days!
How had she gotten it wrong?
“My headache is only slight. I’ll be fine. I’ll sit here and cause you no trouble. I promise.”
She’d no idea what he was thinking as he observed her. He had an uncanny way of masking his thoughts, of making his expression difficult to decipher.
“You didn’t eat last night,” he finally said. “How long has it been since you’ve had a meal?”
She didn’t want his concern. She wanted him to move.
“Yesterday. Noon.” Unfortunately it was true, but she wasn’t hungry. Not with the knots in her stomach. The silver was leaving . How was she going to stop it?
Jules gave a signal to Raymond. Raymond walked up, handed Jules a goblet, then left.
“Here.” Jules offered it to her.
She took the goblet.
“Drink it,” he ordered. “It’s burgundy. We carry the untainted kind.”
She smiled, albeit weakly, at his jest and took a sip, not wishing to argue. “It’s good. Thank you.” She held the goblet out to him. Go away! He was too distracting.
“Finish it, chère . It fortifies the blood,” he said. Raymond returned then with pieces of bread in a
Yenthu Wentz
Aneesa Price
Suzanne Weyn
Mary Marks
Craig Johnson
Patrice Michelle
Kate McMullan
Sherryl Woods
Steven Savile
Hallie Swanson