Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
They reached Samarkand a few hours later.
Michel had rushed a man ahead to alert town officials of his early arrival.
He wanted to set up their yurts inside city limits, and he was pleased to see that space had been cleared for them.
He didn’t want to be near the edges of town where they would be more vulnerable.
Eve took over the camp preparations. Michel sent notes to his contacts, but it was late, so he didn’t expect to hear anything that evening.
With nothing else to do, he set up the area inside his yurt, washed, and tried to help Eve prepare the dinner, which just made her balk at him because he got in her way.
He couldn’t leave her alone. He didn’t care if he ate.
He didn’t care if the fire was set up. He’d never wanted a woman with such intensity, and he never let desire get in the way of his responsibilities.
He couldn’t think of anything other than her.
He found himself pacing around her, stalking her, like a damn hyena.
Then, when he felt like he might not make it another second without touching her, she dusted her hands and turned to come toward him. He reached out, ready to drag her to him, into their yurt.
Then a voice gave him pause.
“Hello there!” said a man. It was Harod, a Frenchman and important merchant in the town, coming to make his acquaintance.
Michel dragged his gaze from Eve, with great reluctance, his body already protesting his duty to greet this man.
“I’m sorry I did not come sooner,” Harod said. “You arrived right at supper.” He was a portly man with red cheeks and a permanent grin. He held his belly at the mention of supper.
Michel greeted the man by shaking his hand.
“Thank you, Harod, for the quick preparations this evening. I know you were not expecting us so soon.” Eve stepped closer, and Michel put his hand on the small of her back to bring her near.
“This is Eve,” he said. “She is accompanying me on this journey.”
“Is she?” Harod said with a knowing smile. “My lady.” He nodded, his eyes going to her. Then he looked back at Michel and indicated toward the yurt. “Is this yours?”
“Yes,” said Michel. “Please. Let’s go in.”
They removed their shoes. The rest of the camp was settling down.
It was quiet and cool. Many of the men were still sitting around the fire, enjoying drinks from their flasks, satiated by the dinner Eve had prepared.
Michel held the flap open for Harod and waited until Eve entered as well.
She let her body brush up against his as she passed, causing a pulsating tremor to run through him, urging him to end this meeting with Harod as quickly as possible.
They moved to the table at the back of the yurt. Eve began making tea for them. “Harod,” Michel said. “How can I be of service? I hadn’t thought to see you until morning.”
“Yes, it is late,” Harod said. “But my friend, I have to admit, I was eager to see you alive.”
“Alive?” Michel asked. “Has the gossip of my fight this morning beaten me here?”
“Another fight this morning?” he asked, giving Michel a wide-eyed look. “No, I thought perhaps you were a part of the group of Frenchmen who were slaughtered a few days ago.” He continued, always eager for gossip. “Who did you fight this morning?”
Michel stared at him. “Harod,” he said, too many questions forming. “What of this group of Frenchmen? I know nothing about it.”
Eve came over and laid out a portion of nuts and bread with jam. She sat on a chair next to Michel.
“Oh yes. Terrible,” he lamented, though Michel could tell he was delighted to tell the story.
Harod took a scoop of nuts and continued.
“Twelve French merchants, just outside the city limits. Just ripped to shreds.” He cracked a pistachio open and popped it into his mouth.
“A porter that got away said it was a beast of a man that took two at a time as they tried to fight him off. He didn’t even use a sword!
” Harod said, almost bouncing in his seat.
Michel stole a glance at Eve, who looked grim at the news. “Why were they attacked?”
“No one knows.” Harod shrugged. “We had men out there for hours to clear away the bodies.” He spread some jam across a chunk of bread. “The bodies that the animals didn’t get to.”
Michel’s mind reeled. He had thought the man sought Eve, but maybe he was coming for Michel himself.
And why had he killed the others? Michel’s presence, the relationships he cultivated, these things kept the region secure.
An open wage for war right now would not only mean that he and every other Frenchman were in danger, but it could dismantle his entire operation.
“Now,” Harod said, breaking into Michel’s thoughts. “Tell me of the fight you had this morning. Don’t tell me it was the same man,” he said excitedly, his eyes darting between Michel and Eve as he stuffed the bread behind his lips.
“It was nothing,” Michel said flatly, not wanting to add more lines to this story. “A scuffle. Nothing more.”
“Oh,” Harod said, looking disappointed. Then he perked back up.
“If I were you, Michel, I’d be very careful.
At least until we know what this man wants.
” He finished off his bread and licked a spot of jam that had dribbled onto his sleeve.
Then he looked at Eve. “Is it a brave man who escorts you, young lady? Is he capable of keeping you safe?” He said it in a teasing tone, but Eve did not wear a playful expression.
She looked from Harod to Michel. “I know no man more capable,” she said, “than this one who sits beside me.”
Despite the weight he felt inside him, Michel felt his heart spike, and the temperature of the yurt seemed to rise sharply.
The words Harod had spoken dissipated in the lake of desire that surged inside him.
These were problems and things to think about later.
He reached for Eve’s hand, the touch causing him to forget every one of his responsibilities and think only of her.
Harod stood, jostling the table as he did. He took the rest of his tea in one gulp. “I will be going,” he said. “Leave you to the rest of your evening.”
Perhaps the man had picked up on the energy shift, but Michel didn’t care if he was being rude. He barely noticed the final salutations as he hustled Harod out.
Once the man was gone and the door to their yurt was sealed, he turned to her. Eve stood in the same place, her hands at her sides. She watched him with her mottled green eyes that glowed in the lamplight. Her loose hair flowed down over her shoulders, and she bit at her lip.
He went for her. Nothing would stop him now.