Chapter 2 #2
Michel twisted around to watch her, lust, concern, and frustration a confusing whirlpool inside him.
Her body was fully on display as the dress tattooed her skin.
He realized that once she crossed through the bush, the other men would have the chance to see her like this.
He trusted his men as workers, but that didn’t mean he’d let them be alone with her or get a look at her like this.
“Stop,” he commanded. Words, language didn’t matter. His tone was clear.
She stalled and glanced back over her shoulder, her curiosity seemingly piqued.
Michel jumped up, nearly tripping over his own feet as he’d become lightheaded from her attention.
He picked up the tunic from the beach and jogged to her.
He situated it and then dropped it over her head.
Once he did, she let her arms find the sleeves.
Reluctant to let her go and return to the inattention he’d been getting from her, he thought to try to console her in some way.
“There is something you want from me. That much I can understand. I would think that you just want to get home to where you are safe.” He spoke in Mongolian because he thought it was the closest he could get to something she understood.
He reached to take her hand, tentatively, holding just her fingertips.
“I know you don’t trust me. I understand that too.
But I promise, if you give me some indication of what you need, I’ll do my best to help you. ”
She stared at him a moment, then jerked out of his grasp. She turned, and Michel watched, the tunic giving her a shapeless form even as he continued to imagine the shape beneath it.
Mon Dieu, he thought. He was going to have to get her a more decent dress, if nothing more than to get those images of her wet and dripping out of his own head.
Several hours later, they entered the outlying markets of Turkmenabat, which were along the main shore of the Amu Darya River. As they passed through the streets, Michel made quick purchases to acquire the things he thought the woman would need, things she would like.
Michel would be staying in Turkmenabat for several days, switching out some of his crew and bolstering supplies.
It was early evening by then, but before he could rest, he still had the laborious process of setting up camp and erecting the yurts that would house himself and the men.
He made his way to the designated area just outside the town walls, alongside the river, where space had been cleared for his arrival.
Once he helped corral the horses, he sent word to his contact that he’d arrived and organized the site with the porters who had welcomed him.
Then he fought the yurts, wrestling the felt onto the structures, all the while keeping his eye on the woman, who watched him back with keen disapproval.
Once again, her irritation made him laugh.
If only she could know him better. He certainly wasn’t used to people regarding him as ineffectual.
She sat by the fire, and as the last yurt was placed, he took a moment to return to his own things, retrieving the items he had purchased. He approached her and held out the bundle.
“This is for you,” he said, gesturing for her to take the gift.
She stared at him, suspicion in her brows.
“You do not make anything easy on me,” he teased.
He squatted next to her and laid out the items he had purchased for her.
“A comb,” he said. He kept his voice gentle.
He hoped to please her with these gifts, to see some spark of interest. “Some things for your hair.” He unwrapped the next package.
“Some oils to clean?” He didn’t know what they were, but a merchant said that women liked them.
He looked at her as she reached forward to examine the little vials.
“And this?” He handed her the oils and pulled the last pack open.
He held up a dress for her. It was a simple off-white dress, made for travel, light.
“I got you a night shift and, um, underthings too.”
She nodded, and it was the most affirmation he’d had from her.
“I’ll leave everything here for you.” He indicated toward the river. “You can wash and change whenever you are ready.”
She stood, taking the items in her arms, but before she left, she reached forward and took his hand. She squeezed it as she looked at him. She still did not smile, but she let him see that, for once, she was less annoyed with him. She turned and headed down to the riverbank.
He felt a bloom of pride as she went, the nagging desire to please her eased just somewhat. He sat by the fire, where she had been, and watched to see that no one followed her.
A short while later, the woman returned to camp.
Her hair was set in two braids running across her scalp and down her back.
She was wearing the dress he’d bought for her with her old garments over her arm.
She walked across the camp into the center and then casually tossed the old garments onto the fire.
He still felt pride at earning one little sliver of her trust, but seeing her make use of the items that he had purchased and chosen for her triggered something else—deep and possessive—inside him.
Right now, the only thing he knew about her was that she was beautiful. He hoped he would get to learn more before he had to say goodbye.