And it was his world, after all.
On the other hand, he hadn’t taken into consideration that, unlike him, she didn’t have so much as a thin blanket to protect her from the incessant breezes. The fire didn’t do much to keep her warm when it only warmed one side of her body at the time. Facing it, her front was warm and her backside freezing, or vice versa if she turned over. She’d tried sleeping in the cave without a fire and discovered it was just as miserable. The cave walls protected her from most of the wind, but without a fire ….
If he’d been any kind of gentleman, he’d have offered her his blanket.
If she’d been bigger and stronger, she would’ve taken it.
“I will share the blanket and the warmth of my body,” he said suddenly, as if he’d read her thoughts.
Not that he’d have to be much of a mind reader to figure out she was too cold and miserable to sleep. She stared at him suspiciously for several moments, but the truth was she was beyond caring whether or not he demanded the use of her body in return. How bad could it be, after all? Granted, she didn’t know a whole hell of a lot about copulating, but she wasn’t completely ignorant. It had never taken her parents that long to do it—fifteen or twenty minutes, tops, of being groped, slobbered on, and stabbed by his blunt member, and then she could be warm the rest of the night.
She got up and moved toward him. As she knelt beside him, he lifted the edge of the blanket and after only a slight hesitation, she slipped under it.
It was absolute heaven. Warmth instantly enveloped her. Goose bumps covered her from the crown of her head to her toes, making it feel as if her skin had shrunk until it was too small for her body, but it began to subside almost at once as the warmth soaked into her skin, then into her muscles. Slowly, the tension seeped from her, and her muscles began to relax. As it did, she began to realize that she was still cold—warmer by far than she had been, but not comfortably so.
There were two sources of heat now—the fire, and the heat radiating from his body—and she wasn’t close enough to either to be comfortable.
Surprisingly, he hadn’t said another word, or made any attempt to collect payment for his offer. Maybe she’d been wrong? Maybe he didn’t actually have any interest in copulating and was just being polite?
After a few minutes, she inched a little closer to him—casually, as if she was just shifting to get comfortable.
“Be still. I can not sleep.”
Tempest stiffened and let out an irritated huff. “I’m cold,” she complained.
With a growl of impatience, he grasped her around the waist and hauled her back until she was lying full length against him. She lay stiffly for a few minutes, more than half expecting that, now, he would seize the advantage and expect her to perform for her comfort. Instead, he merely rubbed her arms briskly, tucked the blanket more tightly around them both and settled back.
“Better?”
She hesitated. She was warmer, that was for certain, but an almost weightless feeling clenched at her belly. She felt really strange, almost dizzy feeling his skin brush against hers, feeling every taut muscle of his body pressing into her. “Uh huh,” she finally managed.
“Then sleep, little grat, so that I may sleep. I must travel far on the morrow.”
Irritation surfaced. She didn’t know why she was irritated. She should have just been grateful. He’d offered food, and comfort, and neither asked, nor demanded, anything at all in return except that she be still and let him sleep, but she was annoyed.
“I wish you wouldn’t keep calling me a grat,” she muttered irritably.
“I do not know the name you are called,” he said with determined patience.
“Tempest.”
“Sleep, Tempest. I have come far, and have far to go.”
“You didn’t tell me your name,” Tempest pointed out.
He sighed. “I am called Kiran.”
Tempest swiveled around to look up at him. “Cool. I like the sound of that.”
It had been an impulsive act, but she saw at once that, like most impulses, it would have been better to resist it. They were almost nose to nose. Kiran merely stared at her for several moments, his gaze slowly moving down her face until it reached her lips, hesitating there for several moments and then dropping lower still, resting in the vicinity of her breasts, which were now pressed firmly against his bare chest. He swallowed convulsively.
“Sleep,” he said, his voice suddenly rough.
Unnerved, Tempest turned over once more. She discovered, however, that there was a very long, very hard ridge snuggling against her buttocks now. Alarm went through her, but so, too, did a deep sense of feminine satisfaction. She’d gotten a rise out of him without even trying. Despite the fact that he’d been careful to treat her like an annoyance, he obviously found her attractive—didn’t he?
Oddly enough, the realization comforted her as much as it pleased her. He was obviously not completely immune to her and yet he had made no attempt at all to take advantage of her. Feeling more secure than she could remember feeling in a very long time, she relaxed, snuggled closer, and slept.
The sun had barely risen over the horizon when Tempest awoke, cold and uncomfortable. Unwilling to open her eyes, she wiggled backwards, searching for the warmth that had sustained her through the night. She opened her eyes when she didn’t find it and turned over.
Kiran, she discovered with stunned surprise, was gone.
She sat up and looked around. The fire had died to ashes. Around her was nothing but the same bare rocks that had greeted her every morning since she’d arrived at the watering hole. The only thing that had changed was that she was still huddled in the bedding and blanket that Kiran had provided.
He’d left them for her.
He had risen while she was sleeping, gathered his belongings, and left.
Tempest searched for a sense of relief and failed to find one. She was alone again. She should be glad that he’d gone, but a sense of desperation such as she hadn’t felt since she’d first come here filled her. She hadn’t realized how afraid she was of being alone until Kiran had forced his unwelcome presence upon her. Now, looking forward to waking day after day, alone, without a face to look at or a voice to listen to filled her with the most terrible dread.
She was going to go mad if she stayed here alone—assuming she didn’t die of starvation first.
Leaping to her feet, Tempest rushed over the rocks until she found a vantage point and looked around for Kiran. She saw him at last, his back to the bright red, rising sun, his silhouette already greatly diminished by distance. In a blind panic, she rushed back to the campsite, bundled the blanket and bedding and scrambled down the rocks to the desert floor. Kiran had disappeared over a dune by the time she left the rocky outcropping and her panic rose. Too frightened even to consider calling out to him, Tempest took off at a trot in the direction she’d last seen him. By the time she’d caught sight of him again, her panic had given way to breathlessness and she’d had time to consider whether it was even wise to allow him to know she was following him—particularly when she wasn’t at all certain she should—and she was absolutely certain that he didn’t want her to.
She stopped abruptly, indecisive now. Should she follow a man she didn’t even know to god alone knew where? Or would she be better off just to stay where she was?
She had a bad feeling that she was making a terrible mistake, but she could no more resist the urge to follow Kiran than she could stop breathing. She couldn’t think at all beyond the fear of being completely alone again.
He did not stop to rest. She hadn’t given herself time to consider all the ramifications of trying to follow Kiran. He was a great deal bigger than she was, which meant his stride was longer. Not only had he had a considerable head start on her, but he was accustomed to walking vast distances without stopping to rest. She had to take two or three steps to every one he took and, as the day wore on, she fell further and further behind.
She
was too tired at first, and too driven, to be afraid. As Niah’s great red sun began it’s downward arch, however, and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, fear lifted its ugly head.
She’d lost sight of Kiran. She wasn’t even completely certain she was still following him, but she was fairly convinced that she wouldn’t be able to find her way back to her safe haven. When she stopped at last to catch her breath and looked back, she could see nothing but endless sand in every direction. As high as the outcropping of rock that had provided her little cave had seemed when she was standing near its summit, it was little more than a bump in the landscape.
She stood indecisively for some time but finally realized that her choice had been made even before she had left. She must find Kiran now if she was to have any chance of surviving.
She was heartened somewhat when she realized she could still see faint impressions of his footprints in the shifting sand. Wishing she’d had the presence of mind to drink her fill of water before she’d charged off, she gathered as much moisture into her mouth as she could, readjusted her burden, and continued, scanning the sand ahead of her now for signs of his passing.
Fear again assailed her as the sun dipped below the horizon and it became harder and harder to see the faint impressions in the sand and finally impossible. She stopped, knowing it would be madness to keep going when she could no longer be certain of his direction. If she tried, she would be hopelessly lost and then she would die because she had no water and only Kiran would know where there was a watering hole.
Resisting the urge to weep, she lowered the bundle to the sand and sat, trying to catch her breath, trying to gather the energy to spread the bedding as, one by one, the stars winked through the darkening canopy of sky overhead. As the blackness of night surrounded her, however, she caught a glimpse of light quite near the ground and her heart leapt in her chest. A campfire!
It was small in the distance—at least another hour’s walk, she thought, but, as tired as she was, she realized she would far prefer walking all night to sleeping alone in the desert. Then, too, she needed water. Besides, this might be her only chance to catch up to Kiran.
It occurred to her that it might not be Kiran’s campfire at all, but she knew it was most likely his—and what choice did she have anyway?
The smell of food lightened her steps when she was close to flagging. Her stomach growling in anticipation, she hurried onward. Ahead, she saw a jumble of ragged shapes that told her she was nearing an outcropping of rock similar to the one she’d lived on for months. A couple of stunted, scraggly trees dotted the mound and even a few emaciated bushes and she realized this must be a far more luxurious watering hole than hers—which was probably why she hadn’t seen a soul in months. The little pool she’d staked claim to was hardly worthy of any Niahian going out of their way for.
Caution overcame her as she reached the first of the rocks, stubbing her toes and sending loose scrabble in every direction. She stopped, listening. When she heard no sounds indicating that anyone had heard her clumsy arrival, she moved more carefully among the rocks, making her way toward the glow of the campfire and finally stopping behind a rock to peer over it.
Kiran was sitting beside the fire. What unnerved her, however, was that he appeared to be looking straight at her. Her heart skidded to a rough halt, then banged against her rib cage. Before she could dismiss it as pure imagination, however, he spoke.
“I should not have called you a grat. You are as clumsy as a hrzog.”
Tempest glared at him, tempted to stay where she was considering his nasty remark. The hrzog was a rodent, and virtually blind and deaf, depending on its nearly impenetrable armor-plated hide to protect it from predators.
She stood up. “How did you know it was me?”
“I smelled you.”
“I don’t stink!” Tempest snapped indignantly as she stepped from behind the rock where she’d been hiding. She might be dusty—it was impossible not to be on such a planet—but she bathed regularly.
His lips twitched. “I did not say you smelled badly, only that I smelled you.”
Tempest frowned. “It’s the same thing … isn’t it?”
“It is not.”
She was fairly certain she’d been insulted just the same, but she went to the campfire anyway, plunking her—his bundle down and then sitting on top of it. He nodded. “There is water there.”
Swallowing convulsively, Tempest leapt to her feet and rushed toward it.
“Do not drink too fast or you will be sick.”
She ignored him. She’d survived this long without him in the desert. She knew she could only allow herself a little water. Once she’d drank a little, his previous remark came back to her, however, and she splashed water over herself in a half hearted attempt at a bath. She was shivering when she returned to the campfire. He glanced at her and then looked away again just as quickly and frowned.
Tempest stared at him in confusion and finally looked down at herself. A blush rose in her cheeks when she realized she’d soaked the cloth tied around her breasts. Wet, it was nearly transparent and worse, her nipples were standing out like little pebbles.
She moved a little further from the firelight, pulling the wet fabric from her skin and sloughing the water off her arms and legs the best she could. She felt like a block of ice by the time she was dry enough to feel comfortable about moving closer to the fire again. Without looking at her, Kiran handed her a plate of food.
“You should not have followed me.”
Tempest looked down at her food for several moments, uncomfortable. She couldn’t very well say she hadn’t been following him. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to be alone anymore.”
He shook his head. “I would have come back for you. Where I travel … I must go alone.”
Tempest gaped at him. “You would?” She thought it over for several moments and felt a surge of anger at the chastising note in his voice. “And I was supposed to know this?”
He frowned. “It is not the way of my people to leave the helpless to fend for themselves.”
Tempest was insulted all over again. She was not helpless. “Well, I don’t know your people so I could hardly be expected to know that about them, could I?” Settling in a bit of a huff, she turned her attention to her food, demolishing it in short order. She would say one thing for him. The man could cook. “Where are you going, anyway?”
“I am on Hymria, vision quest.”
Tempest thought that over for a while, but it finally occurred to her that she remembered something from her history lessons that sounded a lot like that, some sort of ritual the ancient tribes of Earth had once practiced when they hoped for a sign from their gods. She asked him if that was what it was. He looked at her in surprise and finally nodded.
“The star people practice this ritual, as well?”
Tempest gaped at him, but fortunately it occurred to her that it would be rude to point out that it was the uncivilized ancients of her world that had practiced such customs. Not that she could see any reason not to be impolite when he’d been rude to her—except that she wasn’t completely certain that he’d been intentionally insulting. She merely shrugged finally. “Once they did, but that was a long time ago. I don’t honestly know that much about it—except from history lessons.”
He nodded. “I must go alone to the sacred mountain. There I will purify myself —mind, body and spirit—and if I am worthy, the way will be shone to me.”
“Oh,” Tempest said, losing interest. “Well—maybe I could just go with you as far as the nearest village?” she suggested hopefully.
“What is village?”
“Where a lot of people live closely together … in shelters.”
“Like the place of the star people?”
“Yeah!” Tempest said, excited now. It seemed odd to be referred to as the star people, but she had no doubt that he was talking about their colony.
He shook his head. “There are none on Niah. The old
ones tell that once there were such places, but that was long before living memory … before Niah became as it is now. Now we must travel always, looking for water and food, and we must leave before it is depleted and allow it time to replenish before we return again to that place.”
Tempest swallowed her disappointment with an effort. “I guess I’ll have to stay here then.”
He thought about it for several moments and finally shook his head. “This place is not safe. You must return to the other place. I will come for you there when I have done what I must do and take you to those who will be willing to care for you.”
Tempest gaped at him in dismay. “But… why?”
“Life is abundant here. Many tribes visit this place, some who do not value life as we do. You will be safer at the other place.”
“I think I should just stay here,” Tempest said stubbornly. “Maybe somebody will come along that won’t mind if I travel with them.”
“And maybe not.”
Tempest looked away, feeling a blush mount her cheeks again. “I can’t find my way back,” she confessed.
Kiran gaped at her for several moments as if she’d suddenly grown two heads. “You must follow your nose.”
Tempest glared at him. “You must have a better sense of smell than I do, because I sure as hell can’t sniff my way back to that place like a damned bloodhound!”
Kiran looked at her with a mixture of suspicion and surprise. “You truly can not?”
Tempest gave him a look. “No, I truly can not,” she said in a sarcastic tone of voice.
His lips tightened at her tone, but he said nothing else for some moments, apparently, from his expression, not terribly pleased about the options that left him with. “I will have to lead you back,” he said finally.
It wasn’t the solution Tempest had been hoping for and her disappointment made her angry. “That would be a real waste of time.”
“Yes, but I can not afford to do otherwise.”
“I won’t be in your way. I promise,” Tempest wheedled, deciding that it would probably not please him if she told him she’d just follow him again.
Guardian of the Storm Page 2
