Jermyn's breath stilled. He watched intently. So far, she had followed his instructions. Now he waited to see if she would follow his last, insistent direction.
He bent his will on her. If thoughts had power, then his directive would surely be followed.
She gathered the clothes, wrapped them in a piece of brown paper and tied them like a package with a string. She thrust the package into a large cloth bag that hung by her belt and started toward the sitting room.
In frustration, Jermyn wanted to stick his fist through the wall.
Why couldn't the girl just once do as she was told?
At the doorway, she hesitated.
Jermyn's heart lifted. he mentally urged. She glanced toward the bedside table, then away. Jermyn could almost see the tug-of-war between her good sense and her yearning.
Had he baited the trap with strong enough desire? Had he played the meek, willing male with enough sincerity? With a soft "blast!" she hurried to the bedside table. Opening the drawer, she pulled out the wooden box and stared at it as if it were a striking snake.
With a glance around her, she placed it on the table and raised the lid. She lifted the small, gilt-and-blue bottle. Pulling the stopper, she sniffed.
Jermyn preferred a combination of bayberry and spice, and he held his breath as he scrutinized her face, waiting for her reaction. If she didn't savor the scent, he had no doubt she would put it back.
But for a mere second, she closed her eyes. Pleasure placed a faint smile on her lips.
She liked it.
And he hoped she associated the scent with him, with the day she kidnapped him. That would be sweet justice indeed.
Briskly she stoppered the bottle, replaced it in the box and slid the box in her pocket.
Together the two men watched as she left the bedroom. Jermyn heard a click as the outer door closed. Guardedly he walked out, surveying the sitting room. Empty.
Turning to the bewildered Biggers, Jermyn said, "Quickly, man. I need that bath!
He bent his will on her. If thoughts had power, then his directive would surely be followed.
She gathered the clothes, wrapped them in a piece of brown paper and tied them like a package with a string. She thrust the package into a large cloth bag that hung by her belt and started toward the sitting room.
In frustration, Jermyn wanted to stick his fist through the wall.
Why couldn't the girl just once do as she was told?
At the doorway, she hesitated.
Jermyn's heart lifted. he mentally urged. She glanced toward the bedside table, then away. Jermyn could almost see the tug-of-war between her good sense and her yearning.
Had he baited the trap with strong enough desire? Had he played the meek, willing male with enough sincerity? With a soft "blast!" she hurried to the bedside table. Opening the drawer, she pulled out the wooden box and stared at it as if it were a striking snake.
With a glance around her, she placed it on the table and raised the lid. She lifted the small, gilt-and-blue bottle. Pulling the stopper, she sniffed.
Jermyn preferred a combination of bayberry and spice, and he held his breath as he scrutinized her face, waiting for her reaction. If she didn't savor the scent, he had no doubt she would put it back.
But for a mere second, she closed her eyes. Pleasure placed a faint smile on her lips.
She liked it.
And he hoped she associated the scent with him, with the day she kidnapped him. That would be sweet justice indeed.
Briskly she stoppered the bottle, replaced it in the box and slid the box in her pocket.
Together the two men watched as she left the bedroom. Jermyn heard a click as the outer door closed. Guardedly he walked out, surveying the sitting room. Empty.
Turning to the bewildered Biggers, Jermyn said, "Quickly, man. I need that bath!
( Christina Dodd )
[ The Barefoot Princess ]
www.QuoteSweet.com