Three Goddess Series

Chapter 10

Logan, who'd been summoned, entered the room and gazed at the woman in the bed. Mrs. Roomer, efficient as ever, had stripped the girl of her soiled Roma clothing, and redressed her in a simple, modest dressing gown.

He stopped mere feet from the bed. The woman stiffened, and slowly opened her eyes. His breath stopped in his lungs.

Her eyes. So familiar...

Jade jewels, cut to perfection, and sparkling with ire. Long black lashes that swept up and away framed the bright green gems. Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, he tamped down his unwelcome arousal. "Who are you and what were you doing on my land?" He began his questioning in English despite his suspicions of her Romany heritage.

***

Haven jumped from her skin. His deep voice sent ripples of alarm, and something wicked through her.

Oh. My.

The god of anger and beauty stood before her like a big stormy hulk. With black hair, black eyes, black clothes, and a black mood, this man exuded danger, making her uncomfortable beneath his intense scrutiny.

She couldn't answer his question when she couldn't even answer her own.

Her heart pounded.

"You will answer," he growled. Impatience ticked a muscle in his jaw.

She resented his tone. She hadn't asked to be on his land, chased like a chocolate cake at a fat camp, or tackled and lodged between a rock and a hard...place.

Ignoring the pain racing through her skull, she drew up, and looked him in the eye.

"Excuse me?" Her voice was husky and raspy, not at all how she wanted to sound. "Who the hell are you, and where the hell am I?" An itch tickled along her arms and abdomen, and she looked down. "Where are my clothes?"

A startled look appeared on the man's face. Apparently, he wasn't used to people talking to him like that. Stepping closer to the edge of the bed, he towered at his full height. His eyes narrowed to slits of onyx indignation, and his lips thinned into twin lines of enmity.

Bring it on.

"How dare you speak to me with such irreverence? You were the one skulking around in my pastures. Where are my sheep?"

A snort of surprised disbelief erupted from her.

"What?" She sat straighter in the bed, clinching her fists at her sides. "First of all, I wasn't stealing sheep. I mean, look at me, does it look like I can pick up a lamb, and haul it to my diabolical lair? Second, I had no idea I was in your pasture. And third, I still have no idea who you are, so showing you respect is subject to whether I give a damn."

***

With great difficulty, Logan kept his jaw from hitting the floor. Her eyes flashed jade fire, and her abundant chest rose and fell with barely-restrained fury. Not even the modest and practical frock Mrs. Roomer provided could hide the lusciousness of the woman's bosom.

Dear God, she was glorious. Her husky voice rippled over him, and her startling beauty caused blood to rush to the surface of his skin, and into the length of his shaft. The temperature in the room rose, and the placket of his trousers grew uncomfortably tight. Shifting his stance, he fought the urge to adjust his bollocks. Repressing his rampant emotions and raging libido, he glared down at her.

Trying to form his words around his clinched jaw, he ground out, "How am I supposed to believe you? I know your people recently moved into the area, and for the past few months my sheep have disappeared at night from the pasture where I found you. You were standing feet from my sheep, you ran from me, and you dare to act as if I hadn't caught you in red-handed."

His gaze caught on her hands. She flexed, grasping and flattening her fingers against the bed coverings. He fought the urge to cover and hold her hands against his heated skin. He needed a long, hard run into a frigid lake.

"Let me get this straight," she began. "You assume that because I was standing in your pasture next to your sheep I must have been there to steal one? Yeah, I was in a pasture in the middle of nowhere at night, but maybe I got lost, or was catching fireflies, or playing hide-and-go-seek with the moon. No offense, buddy, but assuming I intended to steal your sheep is an accusation lacking in the evidence department." She looked him in the eye, and asked, "What do you mean, your people?"

He took a deep breath. "As if you didn't know. Your clothes, your hair, your coloring-you're Roma."

The look of incredulity that sprang to her face was almost enough to make him rethink. Almost.

"What?" Her voice rose in pitch and volume, her face drew up into a mask of fury, and her nostrils flared. "You assume from my clothes, my hair, and my coloring that I'm a Gypsy?" The olive skin of her cheeks turned a deep red.

"Don't forget the fact you were scampering around in the dark on someone else's property."

"That has to be the most blatant example of racial profiling I've ever heard." She sat forward, letting the comforter fall to her waist, exposing her glorious assets to him. God, not even sackcloth and ashes could disguise this woman's natural charms.

"Why would my race even matter? I told you before; I didn't know I was on your land. I ran from you because, well hell, any woman seeing a giant black demon chasing her in the dark would run for her life."

Good point.

The muscles ticked along his jaw. "Your vulgarity speaks of your heritage, even if your words deny it."

The woman's expressive eyes narrowed into almond slits, and she trembled. Her whole body tensed beneath his gaze. "Excuse me if my language is offensive, but I just woke up in a strange room, surrounded by strange people-one of whom has seen me naked-" His breath caught, "Only to be verbally abused in an inquisition carried on by a man I don't know. I'm entitled to a few colorful words."

Despite the anger and unwelcome desire racing through him, his lips wanted to curve up in appreciation of her gumption and obvious wit.

Dr. Blige stepped forward and cleared his throat, interrupting their heated sparring match before they could draw blood.

"If I may remind you, my lord, she is recovering from a rather nasty conk on the head. Rest and care are called for."

Realizing he had indeed been badgering a woman he nearly killed, he inwardly cursed. "You're right, doctor." Turning to Mrs. Roomer in the corner, he continued, "Let her rest in here for the night. Keep constant guard inside and out, and fetch me the minute she does anything untoward." He glanced toward the Roma woman. "We will continue this inquisition in the morning." Having reached the end of his patience, and tired of the press of his mounting desire, he stalked from the room.

***

When the man stormed from the room, she could finally breathe. She dragged air into her deflated lungs. Battling back the heat boiling beneath her skin, she ground her teeth.

Gypsy? How in the hell did he come to that conclusion?

She had no idea. Maybe the way she'd been dressed would make him assume Roma. Her long black hair and olive skin were identical to Carlenna's features.

A light bulb flickered on in her brain, and everything fell into place. She felt as if the cosmos bent down from their lofty perch and slapped her across the face.

The watch!

It had to have been the watch she'd stolen from Carlenna's tent.

Where is it?

"I've got to find it."

"Did you say something?" asked a mild male voice. She blushed, remembering the doctor was still in the room. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, his tone patronizing. "Before I go, I am going to give you something for the pain. This is laudanum." He indicated the vial of medicine on the bedside table. "I will leave it with Mrs. Roomer. She will give you the appropriate dose. Once you've taken it, you should be able to sleep with little discomfort."

She rolled her eyes, pleading for a sense of calm. Ignoring the still-strong ache in her head, she lay down, and gently placed her head on the pillow, thankful that at least she didn't have a lack of shelter to add to her growing list of problems.