Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
From the yurt's flap, Eve watched Michel speak with Terence.
She heard them talking about his master and the others, who had been ripped apart by Ganbold.
She felt terrible. Her fault, all of it.
All she had meant to do was get away to protect the girl, to avoid a confrontation between her tribe and the young tribe that took her. But look at the deaths in her wake.
A light breeze came to calm her skin, which still flamed for Michel.
Seeing him, his tall frame hunched by the fire in concentration, and seeing Terence, worry on his face, she looked to the sky, hoping for a sign that she had not chosen the wrong path.
Should she have gone to her family and let her father sort this all out?
She was not a warrior like her father or her brothers.
In this way, she had thought to protect the ones she loved.
Now she feared she would destroy another life: Michel’s.
Even if she didn’t get him killed, she was certainly on the brink of destroying any deals he hoped to make.
As much as she wanted more of that man, he didn’t deserve for her problems to take over his.
She would tell him her whole story. Then he could decide for himself if he wished to leave her.
Even though the thought of being separated from him now made her heart hurt like a dagger had been stabbed into it.
She turned back inside the yurt to collect herself.
She saw the table where, seconds ago, Michel had been ready to take her, and she had been ready to give herself to him.
It was a mess—chairs tipped, tea spilled.
She put her hand to her lips, as the last strands of her desire threaded through her.
It wasn’t appropriate, these feelings at this moment, but her body still ached deeply for him.
She would have to deal with those thoughts another time.
She straightened the space and cleaned the spilled drinks.
Then she set to work at the small hearth.
She pulled out her cache of herbs and dried roots, choosing the combination she needed, and set to work on a calming tea for Terence.
While the tea brewed, she straightened herself.
It was her fault, she knew, that these men were being attacked.
If she had only committed to something in her life, chosen a direction, she could have saved so many.
The girl from the young tribe, though. She would not have found her peace.
Eve finished the tea by adding a crystal of sugar to the kettle. She exited the yurt and came to the fire to sit beside Michel. She handed Terence a cup, and she handed one to Michel as well. Michel had been speaking, but when he saw Eve, he lost his words and just watched her.
She smiled. Whatever happened, she would not stop loving the way she affected him and caused him to forget everything he was doing.
Michel shook himself and turned back to the boy. “Did you have any indication of where he was headed?”
The boy huddled over his tea and shook his head. “He never said a word.” He swallowed. “He didn’t seem to want anything. Just to kill us.”
“We will continue to hope that he has had his fill and will be gone.”
“Have you eaten?” Eve asked the boy.
“No, madame,” he said, glancing between her and Michel.
“Mademoiselle,” she corrected, with a smile.
He nodded at the mistake as the fire continued to crackle and the men drifted into silence.
The boy sipped his tea, and Eve poured cups for those who wanted some.
She smiled to herself. He had called her Madame, which meant he thought of her as Michel’s wife.
Terence hadn’t joined their party until after she and Michel started getting along.
He must have assumed she was on this journey with her husband.
She pocketed away the warm feeling it gave her, despite the cool of the night and the timbre of her thoughts.
The next morning, they awoke with the sun.
Michel watched over the camp, the coffee Eve had prepared for him in hand, while he waited for the rest of the men to be fully awake.
Despite his hope to return to Eve the night before and spend the remainder of the evening in her bed, enjoying each other, he could not leave Terence unattended.
He didn’t trust the boy, and Terence had had his fingers in at least half the men’s items before Michel had booted him the first time, so Michel didn’t trust the men to leave him alone either.
Reluctantly, Michel put Terence in his yurt.
Very reluctantly. Despite how badly he wanted to pick up with Eve, Michel didn’t need another murder in the night.
A brisk wind whipped through the camp, and Michel went to sit by the fire, closer to where Eve prepared breakfast. After a moment, Eve dusted her hands, took her cup of tea, and sat near him.
The closeness roused him again, having never quite calmed after getting a taste of her the night before.
Her skirts brushed his leg. He wondered just what he had to do to have her lying vulnerable before him once more. Then Eve spoke.
“Michel,” she began, her chin jutting out.
“Yes?” he urged. It always amused him when she talked to him like a teacher talking to a student.
“I feel you should know something about me.”
Michel turned to face her now. “I’ve been waiting to know anything about you.”
She tucked her chin in and looked down at her hands. “I have never been with a man. Like last night.”
For a second, he felt a swell of pride inside him, thinking she meant her enjoyment. With that, however, came another stab of guilt at taking from her, for his own pleasure. Eve kept going before he could dwell.
“What I mean to say is…” She paused. “I never consummated the marriage with the man who was my husband.” She looked down. “We were only married for a few hours. He died…just before…”
Michel watched her for a long moment. He reached forward to peel one of the hands from the cup she was holding and take it in his. “You were just defending yourself,” he said gently, making the connection. “You should never have been forced.”
“It is not unheard of what happened to me,” she said. “Being stolen. It is unheard of what happened to him. I’ll be in a lot of trouble if anyone from his tribe finds me.”
She sighed then. When she didn’t continue, Michel spoke.
“I don’t condemn you,” Michel continued, leaning forward. “If that’s what you think.”
He thought he saw relief in her expression. “I just want you to know,” she continued, “that I’m not a widow. In the usual sense.”
“Ah,” Michel said. “I see.” He gave her hand a playful squeeze. “You are telling me to keep my hands to myself.”
“No,” she said. He saw her smiling now, even though she still looked away from him.
“I like your hands.” Her voice came softly.
“And other things.” She bit her bottom lip.
“One good thing that came from being kidnapped is that now I can decide when the time is right. I have that control over my body.”
“I, uh,” Michel said, giving her a nudge. “I hope to be notified when you make that decision.”
She laughed. Then she looked up to him, her eyes sparkling. “You should know, I never felt that kind of desire, none of it, until I met you.”
What a wonder to have come across this person, Michel thought.
He felt pride come back at her words, that he had given her desire, given her anything.
But more so, he felt fortunate that he had been the one to find her.
He could have lived his whole life and never known her.
He would kiss her right now. He didn’t care.
But just as he started to move, she continued speaking.
“I’m going to tell you my story now, Michel, if you would hear it. Then you can decide if I am worth the trouble or not.”
“That decision had been made already. But please,” he coaxed, “share this story with me.”
She looked around. “Can we have the yurt? For privacy?”
Michel grinned. “I will take pleasure in tossing Terence out. Let Iman watch over him for a while.”
She rose, and he followed. His problems were not solved, his work was not finished, but he felt hope filling his chest that soon he would be able to focus all of his attention on Eve. Because he knew, no matter what she told him, she was the only woman he would ever want again.