Chapter 3
Chapter Three
L innea paced her tent like a caged beast, still feeling the heat of Zexx's hands on her waist where he'd steadied her. The thick carpets muffled her restless steps but did nothing to quiet the storm of need raging inside her.
She might have had a bit too much wine, but being left in the tent by Zexx had sobered her in a heartbeat. Her head brushed the cream-colored fabric that draped from the tall center pole, preventing her from walking far and making her paced circle small as she spun on one heel and headed back in the opposite direction.
What was wrong with her? She was the chancellor of the Cresteks, not some weak-willed female who melted at the touch of a male. Especially not a barbarian who had spent the entire evening judging her.
But gods of old, the way he'd carried her as if she weighed nothing, his hard chest like a wall as she’d sunk into him. A warm wall with velvety skin and primal markings splayed across his flesh. She fanned herself, though the night air filtering through the tent was already cool. The wine was wearing off, but her blood still ran hot.
"This is madness," she muttered, running her hands through her hair and loosening more of the dark curls that had been artfully arranged on top of her head. She had responsibilities, duties. She couldn't afford to be distracted by a warrior who probably despised everything about her kind.
Even if his heated looks suggested otherwise.
Linnea touched a hand to her gauzy dress where it clung to her flushed skin. She’d come all this way for her brother’s wedding and had been welcomed warmly by the Dothveks. She’d been able to forget who she was for a bit, who she would be when she returned home after one night on the sands.
One night. One night to forget her responsibilities. One night to throw caution to the wind. Didn’t she deserve that? That's all she would allow herself before returning to the city and the weight of her position. No one would know if she gave in to temptation just this once.
Before she could think better of it, she burst from her tent—and slammed straight into a wall of muscled flesh.
"Going somewhere?" Zexx's deep voice rumbled through her as his hands shot out to steady her.
She stumbled back. "What are you doing here?"
"Ensuring your safety and uninterrupted sleep.” His eyes glittered in the moonlight. "Though you don't seem to be resting."
"I don't need a guard." But her pulse quickened at the thought of him standing sentinel outside her tent.
"No?" He stepped closer, backing her into the tent. "Then why did you come looking for me?"
Her breath hitched. "You sound very sure of yourself. I could have been coming out for more food or wine."
"I can sense your need."
Linnea almost cursed out loud. She’d forgotten that Dothveks were empathic. So much for hiding anything from the brute. But she’d thought they could primarily sense each other, not Cresteks.
"Then tell me what I want.”
His only answer was a velvet growl that sent a shiver skating down her spine.
Her mouth went as dry as the sands, but she held his gaze. “Are you telling me you don’t want the same thing?”
“You think I’m a barbarian.”
She didn’t bother to deny it. “Then for one night, be the barbarian I think you are.”
A rumble vibrated through his chest. "You don't know what you're asking. I was raised to despise your kind."
"And I was raised to fear yours." She pressed her hands against his chest as her heart threatened to pound its way out of her body. "But I'm not afraid of you.”
"You should be." He ran a hand roughly through her hair, freeing more curls and fisting them between his fingers. "I've spent all night watching males circle you, wanting to tear them apart for daring to look at you."
Her pulse quickened. She didn’t doubt his ability to tear anyone apart. “I didn’t want them.”
“I know.”
She would have despised such cockiness in a Crestek, but in him it only fueled her desire. She backed up, beckoning him to follow her with one, crooked finger. “Then show me why I should want you and not them.
His control snapped with a snarl as he followed her back inside her tent, the flaps falling closed behind him. Large hands tangled in her hair as he claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss that tasted of sin and salvation. She moaned, and his tongue swept inside to tangle with hers.
"After tonight," he said between fierce kisses, “you will return to your city, and we will never see each other again.”
“I know.” That was why this was so perfect. "No promises. No regrets."
He caught her hands and held them as tightly as he held her gaze. "You are sure?"
"I'm sure that I'll regret it more if I don't know what it's like to have you." She met his burning gaze. "Just once."
His laugh was dark. "Once won't be enough, Chancellor, but I will agree to just one night.”
She nodded desperately as she admired the dance of the undulating light on his exposed skin.
"Last chance to change your mind, Linnea." But his hands were already working at the delicate ties of her dress.
She smiled up at him. "I never back down from a challenge, warrior."
His answering growl sent heat pooling low in her belly. Then his mouth was on hers again, and she surrendered to the wild need that had been building between them all night.
Tomorrow she would be chancellor again. Tonight, she would be simply a female in the arms of a barbarian who made her burn.