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this. Several times. Why?
Her lips pursed, and she motioned to the chair with a wave of her hand. Just sit down and shut up. My mom made me see
shrinks when I was a kid, so I don t need an amateur diagnosis right now.
Tell me, he beseeched. He remained standing. She might think she wanted to be cold, but he saw the moments of warmth
and softness she tried so hard to hide. He noticed the way she sometimes hesitated before she issued an insult, as if she had to
force herself to say it. And when she spoke of her uncaring nature, there was wistfulness in her brown eyes, a neediness she hadn t
yet accepted.
There s nothing to tell, really. Over the years, I learned that emotions bring only pain and upset. She pushed on his
shoulders. Her strength was no match for his, but he eased into the chair nonetheless.
With somewhat shaky fingers, she brushed the dark sand from his shoulder, careful to avoid his wound. He winced as sharp
pain radiated from one corner of his body to the other.
He frowned. I would not be suffering right now if you would simply accept the inevitable and make love with me.
Don t be a baby. I warned you that I wasn t good at this sort of thing. She soaked one of the rags with oil. This smells
good. What is it?
Soap, I think your people call it.
Our soap doesn t smell like this, like orchids and magical waterfalls.
His chin tilted to the side, and he eyed her. You wish me to think you aloof and yet you enjoy pleasing your senses with
delicious smells.
Scowling, she slapped the cloth against his wound. He laughed, for he was beginning to see a pattern to her bouts of anger.
When her sense of detachment was most threatened, she reacted with waspishness.
As she gently rubbed the flesh around the wound, cleaning away sweat and dirt, she said grudgingly, You did good out
there.
His amusement died a quick death; shock pounded through him. A grunt of relief even gusted past his lips. Perhaps violence
did not bother her as much as he d feared. He was glad, for that meant she might more readily accept her life here, where wars
constantly raged. Are the men of the surface allowed to combat each other with swords?
No. Not without consequences.
What do you mean?
If a man on the surface maims another man like you did today, he is hunted down and locked away. If his victim dies, he
can be executed.
He rolled her explanation through his mind. What if the man is protecting himself or those he loves?
There are still consequences, they simply aren t as severe. People in my world sue for the dumbest stuff imaginable. I heard
about one case where a man broke into another man s house. The thief fell off the roof and sued the homeowner. He actually won
the case, too. How dumb is that?
I do not think I would like living on the surface, then.
Well, I like it, she said defensively.
He sighed.
This cut is pretty deep, she muttered, probing the edge with her fingers. I think you need stitches.
He bit his lip to hide his wince. He d never had to deal with his wounds before. After a battle, he immediately made love to a
woman and his wounds disappeared of their own accord. What I need is sex. He tried for a seductive tone, but sounded
reproachful. With you.
She scowled, even as she tenderly dried the injury. I m more than willing to go get one of the other women for you.
As her words echoed between them, she pressed her lips together. A combination of rage and trepidation that he would
take her up on the offer? flitted over her expression.
Ah, little moonbeam. When will you learn that only you will do?
She relaxed, her expression softening. Yes, well, when will you learn that I don t sleep around?
Have I not already explained that you are my mate? He did not want to listen to another of her denials, so he added,
Your protests are silly.
A mate is a willing partner, right? I think we both know I m not willing. Nor am I your partner. Or queen. I am not a
queen.
Unable to help himself, he plucked the ends of her hair and sifted the silky strands through his fingers. He brought them to his
nose and sniffed. Ah, sweet heaven. You smell so good.
I can t say the same for you.
He didn t take offense. I am most definitely in need of a bath. Would you care to join me?
A quiver raked her, and she dropped the rag to the floor. Damn it. Stop saying stuff like that.
Why? I want you. I am not one to deny my desires.
Yeah. I get that. Bending down, she scooped up the rag and tossed it into the unlit hearth. She picked up a clean rag and
scooped sand into a gaping pocket. You do realize I m about to put sand in an open sore, right?
Right.
And you still want me to do it?
His brow puckered. Of course.
She shook her head, incredulous, then shrugged. Whatever. It s your infection. But she hesitated a moment before
smearing the grains into his injury.
He didn t speak for a long while. He concentrated on her breath, gently fanning his shoulder. He concentrated on her teeth,
nibbling on her lower lip. His cock grew increasingly hard.
Desires are a natural thing, moon, he said. The more you deny them, the stronger they become, until they are all you can
think about, all you can see.
Stop right there. Her voice shook, and he knew she wasn t unaffected by what he d said. Her nipples were hard little
points against her shirt. Don t try to engage me in a conversation about desires, okay? I m not interested.
He grabbed her wrist, closing his fingers around her delicate bones with soothing finesse. Still not petting, he assured
himself. He tugged her in front of him. Her gaze slid to his mouth, to his erection. A surprised gasp slipped from her.
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