Kieran (Tales of the Shareem) by Jennifer Ashley, Allyson James Page A

concentrating on his breakfast. “Kieran,” she said. “We should talk about a few things.”
    “Why?” Kieran lifted the second half of his pastry, cream dripping from his fingers. “It’s always better not to talk. Too many things are ruined by talk.”
    Felice regarded him carefully. “Why do you say that?”
    “Because it’s true.” Kieran took another large bite of the pastry and went silent while he chewed.
    “You never asked me again how I learned to fight,” Felice said after a few moments.
    Kieran shook his head. “Changed my mind.” He licked a dab of cream from his thumb. Hard to concentrate while watching his tongue take up the bit of cream and curl it into his mouth.
    “Don’t you want to know?” Felice asked, her throat tight. “Why someone who can fight like me ended up a cargo-hauling slave?”
    Kieran took a leisurely sip of water he’d brought out with him. “Nope.”
    “Don’t you care?” A little pain touched her heart.
    “I do care. But I don’t want to know, if knowing makes you go away again.”
    The pain in her heart changed to sudden warmth. “Oh.”
    Instead of continuing the conversation, Kieran lifted a berry and eased it toward his mouth. He took his time biting it, and red juice stained his lips and fingers.
    Felice swallowed. “Are you saying that you don’t want me to go away?”
    “Yep.”
    Felice set her untouched pastry on the table. “But I have to go. You know that. I need to find someplace I’ll be safe. And free.”
    “So do I.” Kieran lifted another berry and wrapped his tongue around it, drawing it inside his mouth.
    Felice got lost in watching him for a moment, then shook herself. “Aren’t you free here?” she asked. “I mean, relatively. Slavery is illegal on Bor Narga.”
    “It is. But Shareem aren’t people. No one is allowed to own us anymore, but we aren’t allowed to own ourselves, either.”
    Felice started to ask him to explain, but she thought she knew what he meant. She’d seen the patrollers hassle Kieran, noted the wariness in Shareem eyes when she’d walked into the bar. They’d assumed her to be trouble before they’d even known who she was.
    And why had Kieran been wandering around the dockyards the day he’d stumbled upon her? If the place was restricted to Shareem?
    “Why did you go back to the docks last night?” she asked.
    Kieran finished his berry and sucked the juice from his fingertips. Felice got distracted again watching his mouth pucker over his finger, and slowly suckle . . .
    He was trying to distract her, damn him. “Kieran,” she persisted. “Why?”
    Kieran ran his blue gaze up and down her, his eyes narrowing. “Did I tell you that you could put on the coverall?”
    “No . . .”
    “Then take it off. Now. And no more talking.”
    Felice stood up. All right, if he wanted to play it that way . . .
    She very slowly unfastened the coveralls and let the top slide down her arms, baring her breasts. She paused a moment, then brushed her already tightening nipples with her fingertips. Kieran’s gaze fixed on her, going hot and even more blue.
    Felice continued to peel away the coveralls, her fingers brushing her body all the way down. She touching the swirl of hair between her legs, it already moist, as she let the coveralls fall to the floor.
    Kieran couldn’t look away. She felt his gaze intently on her as she stepped out of the coveralls and pushed them aside with her foot. She was bare, her only adornment the collar at her throat.
    Kieran relaxed back into the cushions, his eyes warm. “That’s better.”
    “So why did you go to the docks?” Felice asked.
    Kieran growled. He came off the sofa and hauled Felice against him. “I said, no more talking.”
    He wasn’t comfortable with words, Felice had already gathered. She’d watched him grope for the right ones whenever he spoke to her, as well as when he spoke to others. He was also very good at avoiding questions.
    He avoided them now by