Fallen Embers by P.G. Forte Page B

contemplate any distance beyond the cave at their back, couldn’t imagine any locale more enticing than the comfortable bedding she’d unrolled on which she’d been sleeping.
    Up until tonight, he’d considered her insistence on such fripperies a nuisance. They were a burden, an unnecessary luxury, a dangerous dependence, far more comfort than either of them deserved. Now, however, he thanked the stars above for them. Thoughts of laying her out upon that downy softness filled his mind ’til he could think of nothing else.
    Georgia sighed and glanced around once more. She seemed restless. Perhaps it was she who wanted to eat or to move on…or who knew what else? Perhaps the novelty of his company was beginning to wear on her nerves.
    â€œThere is something I want,” he said at last, unable to keep silent any longer. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. “But it has naught to do with either food or a change of scenery.”
    â€œOh? And what is it then?”
    â€œSomething that, to be honest, I had never thought I’d want again.” Not until she’d taught him that he need not be a monster. And now…was it too much to hope that she might also remind him what it was to be a man? He let his gaze flicker over her, taking in full breasts, a narrow waist, rounded hips and thighs and arms. It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed them before; he had, of course. It was just that now… How different, how delightfully different, it all seemed now that he was no longer looking at her as a loathsome creature not unlike his own mistress, not unlike himself.
    Once, long ago—as a man—he’d taken great pleasure in the female form in all its myriad variations. He’d known nothing more beautiful, more satisfying, more heavenly. His more recent experiences had been almost enough to destroy his ability to respond to it. Almost. But not, perhaps, completely.
    When his gaze returned to Georgia’s face, he found her watching him closely, her expression inquisitive, her eyebrows raised, but she said nothing. Maybe she had no idea what he was hinting at, maybe she didn’t want to know, or maybe—perhaps—she was simply waiting for him to make the first move. But that was something he could not do.
    He could not risk losing her friendship—not for any reason. She had saved him from a life of untold misery. He would not repay her now by breaking the first promise he’d ever made her. He’d said he’d take nothing that was not offered and he’d meant it. He shook his head and smiled sadly. “It is something I dare not even name. Something that must be freely offered.”
    â€œI see. And what would you do were such a thing to be offered to you?”
    â€œI would treasure the opportunity and treat it as the precious gift I know it to be.”
    â€œOh.” At that she colored. A swift frown furrowed her brow. “Where is your honesty now, I wonder? Am I some coy maiden that you think you must use pretty words to seduce me? Do not imagine I am moved by them, sir. For you cannot expect me to believe that someone like yourself, someone with as much experience as I know you must have had over the centuries, would term so base an activity ‘precious’? Or have I totally misunderstood your meaning?”
    Quintano shook his head. “’Tis your own words and actions of which I was thinking when I termed it such, and I stand by my use of the word. Wait, please.” He held up a hand, forestalling her protests. “Before you argue otherwise, as I see you are wont to do, allow me to explain. I have not forgotten your speech to me on the night we met, how strongly you emphasized that you would sooner die than give up your right to decide who you would allow into your bed. Were you to grant me that right, were you to choose me now, as I very much hope you will, I would consider myself honored indeed. And, if you are not