guide me."
She let her head drop back onto his chest. "I don't know where they are."
"You are a wanted criminal, Natiya," he said, investing his voice with all the worry within him. In truth, he exaggerated the danger. Dag Racho was likely too busy to worry about one lost pawn in a complex political game.
"He will not stop until he finds me," she said dully.
Kiril hated the sound of dread in her voice, knowing he had put it there. Even so, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, hoping she understood his gesture as one of tender concern. "There is hope, one way to avoid him."
She nodded, seeming to accept his statement without question. "Hide."
He released a dramatic sigh. "For how long? He has a dragon's memory, Natiya, that forgets nothing." He shook his head. "You must try to think beyond the present moment. Your only hope is to help me. We must find what the Emperor wants before he does."
"Why?" She shifted uneasily in front of him, unaware that every time she moved, she set fire to parts of him all too aware of her presence. "Why does he want the clutching caves?"
"He doesn't. He wants the egg that was found there: a golden egg. A Queen."
She released a soft laugh. "But if it was found, it is no longer there."
"True, but that is where I come in." He inhaled deeply, letting her scent fill his mind with pleasant fantasies. "Once I am in the Queen's cave, once I find where the egg sat, then I can use my sword to find it."
Natiya tilted her head back to see him more clearly. "How?"
He looked down at her, seeing her sparkling light eyes, her lush pink lips. He even had an excellent view of the soft white skin below her neck. What was it about her that drew him? From the moment he'd seen her, there had been a pull between them. No, more than a pull, it was a physical ache that dragged his every thought to her. It was a power he usually only felt in battle, but this time it consumed him as a man for a woman.
He moved before he realized what he was doing. He dropped his head and kissed her. He pressed his lips to hers, tasting her as he had wanted to for so long a time—at length and at leisure. She murmured a sound, neither protest nor hunger. Simply a gasp of surprise like fire in his blood.
He released the reins. Mobray would follow the track. Indeed, Kiril and Mobray had taken this route to the mountains many times in search of the Queen's cave; he need not concern himself with direction. Which left his mind and both hands free for the lush woman in his arms.
He deepened their kiss. Her gasp had allowed his tongue entry, and now he penetrated her mouth with a fervor that stunned him, especially as her head dropped back against his supporting arm, giving him greater access, greater depth.
His free hand moved without his conscious direction, caressing the long column of her throat before pushing aside the collar of his jacket that she wore. She had raised her own hand and now began to mimic his motions. Her tongue touched and teased his. Her fingers stroked his hair, his neck. And all the while, his free hand delved down and along her collarbone, slipping beneath the loose fabric of her shirt until he held the soft, perfect mound of her breast.
She shivered in his arms, unconsciously moving against his hand, his arms, his loins; and he tightened his grip, squeezing and molding her nipple to further the sensations—or that would have occurred if his mount had not chosen that moment for a good scratch.
Kiril cursed, suddenly occupied in keeping Natiya balanced while Mobray decided to scratch against a tree. She, of course, helped out by twisting forward—away from him—leaning forward over Mobray's neck, murmuring soft words into the beast's ear. Mobray quieted immediately, and Kiril was able to guide him back onto the track from where he'd strayed. But when the beast was finally headed back the way he should, Natiya rigidly refused to sink back into Kiril's arms.
He sighed. Sometimes rescuing beautiful
She let her head drop back onto his chest. "I don't know where they are."
"You are a wanted criminal, Natiya," he said, investing his voice with all the worry within him. In truth, he exaggerated the danger. Dag Racho was likely too busy to worry about one lost pawn in a complex political game.
"He will not stop until he finds me," she said dully.
Kiril hated the sound of dread in her voice, knowing he had put it there. Even so, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, hoping she understood his gesture as one of tender concern. "There is hope, one way to avoid him."
She nodded, seeming to accept his statement without question. "Hide."
He released a dramatic sigh. "For how long? He has a dragon's memory, Natiya, that forgets nothing." He shook his head. "You must try to think beyond the present moment. Your only hope is to help me. We must find what the Emperor wants before he does."
"Why?" She shifted uneasily in front of him, unaware that every time she moved, she set fire to parts of him all too aware of her presence. "Why does he want the clutching caves?"
"He doesn't. He wants the egg that was found there: a golden egg. A Queen."
She released a soft laugh. "But if it was found, it is no longer there."
"True, but that is where I come in." He inhaled deeply, letting her scent fill his mind with pleasant fantasies. "Once I am in the Queen's cave, once I find where the egg sat, then I can use my sword to find it."
Natiya tilted her head back to see him more clearly. "How?"
He looked down at her, seeing her sparkling light eyes, her lush pink lips. He even had an excellent view of the soft white skin below her neck. What was it about her that drew him? From the moment he'd seen her, there had been a pull between them. No, more than a pull, it was a physical ache that dragged his every thought to her. It was a power he usually only felt in battle, but this time it consumed him as a man for a woman.
He moved before he realized what he was doing. He dropped his head and kissed her. He pressed his lips to hers, tasting her as he had wanted to for so long a time—at length and at leisure. She murmured a sound, neither protest nor hunger. Simply a gasp of surprise like fire in his blood.
He released the reins. Mobray would follow the track. Indeed, Kiril and Mobray had taken this route to the mountains many times in search of the Queen's cave; he need not concern himself with direction. Which left his mind and both hands free for the lush woman in his arms.
He deepened their kiss. Her gasp had allowed his tongue entry, and now he penetrated her mouth with a fervor that stunned him, especially as her head dropped back against his supporting arm, giving him greater access, greater depth.
His free hand moved without his conscious direction, caressing the long column of her throat before pushing aside the collar of his jacket that she wore. She had raised her own hand and now began to mimic his motions. Her tongue touched and teased his. Her fingers stroked his hair, his neck. And all the while, his free hand delved down and along her collarbone, slipping beneath the loose fabric of her shirt until he held the soft, perfect mound of her breast.
She shivered in his arms, unconsciously moving against his hand, his arms, his loins; and he tightened his grip, squeezing and molding her nipple to further the sensations—or that would have occurred if his mount had not chosen that moment for a good scratch.
Kiril cursed, suddenly occupied in keeping Natiya balanced while Mobray decided to scratch against a tree. She, of course, helped out by twisting forward—away from him—leaning forward over Mobray's neck, murmuring soft words into the beast's ear. Mobray quieted immediately, and Kiril was able to guide him back onto the track from where he'd strayed. But when the beast was finally headed back the way he should, Natiya rigidly refused to sink back into Kiril's arms.
He sighed. Sometimes rescuing beautiful
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