“I’m not unreasonable. If you can arrange for me to complete my business with Father Dinot, I’ll be glad to leave Tamrovia. I can’t say I’ve had a very pleasant stay here.”
“I’m sorry. It’s really a wonderful country.” His expression was earnest. “I could show you places—”
“Karpathan, I’m afraid it’s too late for a travelogue. Now don’t you think you could let me get up?”
“Sandor,” he prompted softly. “I want to hear you say my name.”
“Sand—” She inhaled sharply as she looked up into his eyes. They were communicating something so heated and basic, she felt a tremor run through her.
“Again.” His fingers on her rib cage were no longer impersonal, but intimately sensual, as they moved beneath her breasts in a slow, easy rhythm. “I like it. Say it again.”
Her throat was so tight, she wasn’t sure she could form the word again. She was conscious of a slow, hot, melting sensation in her limbs and at the apex of her thighs. Melting, and yet tingling as if those sensitive places were being lazily stirred by the motion of his fingers. “Sandor,” she whispered.
“You have the most magnificent …” His hands pushed up gently, throwing her full, ripe breasts into bold prominence. His eyes were fastened with searing hunger on the mounds jutting against the cotton of her shirt. “I can still see you standing in your bedroom with your breasts spilling out of that little scrap of a bra.” His fingers pushed her still higher. A shudder went through him. “I thought you’d probably spill out of my palms like that too.” His fingertips were gently rubbing and smoothing the sides of her breasts. “I’d like to see them do that. I’d like to have you leaning over me, and be able to open my mouth and—” He broke off and closed his eyes. “I lay there beside you last night and thought how soft you’d be if I unbuttoned your blouse and put my hand on you. I kept telling myself just touching you for a second wouldn’t hurt.” He opened his eyes, and they were soft and glazed with hunger. “But I knew I wouldn’t stop there. I’d have to use my mouth and my—”
“Stop.” Alessandra moistened her lips with her tongue. Her breasts felt taut and swollen, as if they would burst through the cloth confining them. She was burning up. Tingling. Even the soles of her feet were tingling. “I’m getting confused. I don’t want … It’s too fast.”
“I know.” The words were grated from between his teeth. “But it’s happening. You know it’s happening.”
She couldn’t lie to him. “Yes.”
“Good.” A little of the tension drained out of him. “At least you admit I’m not alone in this. It helps to know that. It may even keep me from jumping the gun until you become accustomed to the idea.” He added quietly, “I probably wouldn’t be this generous with my patience if I didn’t know there’s an excellent possibility we’re being watched by the perimeter guards. I want you very much.” His hands reluctantly left her. “I’ve never before wanted anyone or anything this much in my life.”
The expression on her face revealed how troubled she felt. “I can’t promise anything. I don’t know if—”
“Well, I know,” he said as he swung off her and-rose to his feet. “But I’ve asked you to promise enough for one day.” He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “You’re an honest woman. When you’re ready to commit yourself, you’ll come to me and tell me.” His expression was suddenly grave. “You will belong to me, Alessandra.”
She bent and picked up the poncho from the grass. “I don’t know whether I will or not. You’re a persuasive man, but I don’t like ties.” She looked up to meet his eyes. “And I think you could be very possessive.”
“You’re right.” His lips twisted in a lopsided smile. “Perhaps if I show you my other sterling qualities you’ll be willing to put up with one, minor fault.”
“Perhaps.” She was feeling warm and breathless again, and she determinedly pulled her gaze away. “Don’t you think we should be on our way to your base to send that message to Father Dinot?” She glanced down at the poncho across her arm and wrinkled her nose distastefully. “And if I smell as bad as this raincoat, there’s definitely another priority I’ll have to attend to after the message has gone out. I hope you have facilities for a bath, Sandor.”
“We’ll arrange something.” He took her arm. “Leave it to me.”
She was leaving a great deal to Sandor Karpathan, Alessandra thought as she fell into step with his long-legged stride. It was strange that she wasn’t feeling even a faint trace of misgiving. Strange and warm and … exciting.
Four
“Ho, Sandor, I was about to come after you. I would think you’d know your way home by this time.” The huge, bearded man squatting by the fire rose to his feet with a litheness belying both his size and forty-odd years. His dark eyes wandered appraisingly over Alessandra. “But perhaps you were in no great hurry.”
“It’s difficult to remember the way home, when we change the location of the base every week or so. I don’t have your gypsy instincts, Paulo.” A little smile tugged at Sandor’s lips. “And a few things happened to delay me.”
The large man shrugged. “That instinct has to be bred in the bone. But you have other instincts just as amusing. That’s why I stay with you.” His white teeth suddenly flashed in his bearded face. “You offer the best hunting in Tamrovia.”
“Thank you.” Sandor inclined his head in a mocking bow. “We try to please. I have a task that might amuse you right now. Or rather, our guest has a task. Alessandra Ballard, this is Paulo Debuk.”
“Now, here is a proper-sized woman.” Paulo Debuk’s massive paw engulfed her hand. “It’s about time you found yourself a woman who isn’t a bit of meringue. This one has the substance needed to be the Tanzar’s woman.” He pumped her hand vigorously. “I’m truly delighted you have come to your senses. She will give you fine, strong sons.”
“I will?” Alessandra asked faintly. She wondered if everyone who met Paulo Debuk felt as overwhelmed as she did. If he was one of Sandor’s officers, he was very strange one. Instead of the green camouflage fatigues worn by the other soldiers she’d seen as they approached the camp, he was garbed in rough denim trousers tucked into brown suede boots. A dark brown shirt with full flowing sleeves was stretched over his broad shoulders and deep chest. Debuk’s full dark beard was flecked with gray, but the dark eyes gazing into her own were as bright as the smile he was bestowing upon her. It was a moment before she could arouse herself from her bemusement. What had he said? Something about … She hurriedly pulled her hand away. “No. You misunderstood. I’m here to—”
“Miss Ballard and I have made an arrangement.” Sandor’s eyes were glinting with amusement. “But unfortunately my progeny aren’t part of it. Perhaps we can put in an addendum later to that effect. She has a message for you to deliver in Belajo.”
“Delighted,” Paulo drawled. “It was getting very dull waiting around here anyway. I’ll be glad to have something to do.”
Sandor frowned. “No word from Zack?”
“A radio message last night,” Paulo said. “But you’re not going to like it. There’s been a delay in shipping the arms across the border. It will be another two days before they arrive here at the base.”
Sandor murmured a curse half beneath his breath. “I was afraid of that.”
“Zack is doing all he can. He knows you’re having to twiddle your thumbs until the shipment arrives.”
“I know. I know.” Sandor turned away with barely concealed impatience. “But there has to be some way he can hurry it up. I’m going to see if I can get through to him.” He glanced back over his shoulder at Alessandra. “Give your message to Paulo. He’s as close to a disinterested observer as you’ll find in Tamrovia.” He didn’t wait for an answer, but strode hurriedly to a large tent several yards across the glade.
Well, that certainly put her in her place, Alessandra thought. As soon as he was again faced with the problems of his revolution, her attractiveness to him faded into
the background.
“He’s very worried about the weapons,” Paulo said gently. He had been studying her face as she watched Sandor walk away. There was understanding as well as sympathy in those sparkling dark eyes. “The longer the delay, the more chance of death and injuries on both sides. Sandor wants it over.”
“I know. When ambition calls …”
Paulo shook his head. “You think he’s ambitious? What can this war give him that he doesn’t have already?”
“Power.”
“Sandor?” Paulo threw back his head, and his laughter boomed out. “Do you know what he’s most afraid will come out of this war? He is frightened they will insist he become president of the new republic. He is tired of being Tanzar.”
“He can always say no.”
“He is a man who believes in commitment. Such a man has trouble saying no when there is need.” Paulo’s lips twisted. “And there is always need for the Tanzar.”
Sandor Karpathan would quite probably be the first president of Tamrovia! Why did that idea give her such a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach? She unconsciously squared her shoulders. “Sandor said you were unbiased. Yet you’re in his camp and presumably ready to run his errands.”
“I am a gypsy. We stand apart from wars and politics.”
“Then why are you with Sandor?”
“I like him. He is a fine hunter.” Paulo’s eyes twinkled. “Almost as good as I am.” He paused. “You’re afraid to trust this message with Sandor?”
Was she afraid? Her emotions were in tumult. “I’m not sure.” She smiled. “But I believe I can rely on you, Paulo. Do you think you can take a message to someone and bring back an answer by tonight?”
“Of course, unless that person is in a solitary cell in Naldona’s high-security prison.” A wide grin lit Paulo’s face. “Then it might take me until tomorrow morning.”
Alessandra chuckled. Paulo was obviously larger than life in terms of more than his size. “Don’t worry—this person is quite accesssible. That’s one of the reasons I chose him.”
“Pity. I was hoping for more of a challenge to break the monotony. Do you need a pen and paper?”
She nodded. “Please.”
Thirty minutes later she had finished writing the final instructions to Father Dinot and given the message as well as directions to Paulo. She stood watching him move silently through the forest as he left the camp, and slowly shook her head. The man was a giant, a flamboyant giant to boot, and the last person she would have chosen for an undercover mission.
“You look skeptical.”
Sandor, frowning, stood beside her. Evidently the radio call had not gone as he wished, she realized.
“Don’t tell me you don’t trust Paulo either.”
She pursed her lips in a soundless whistle. He really was in a bad mood. “I wasn’t questioning his integrity, merely his size. Is it safe to send him into an occupied city, where he’ll stick out like a sore thumb?”
The frown faded slightly. “He’ll be safer than any man I’ve got. Paulo can come and go in seemingly impossible situations. I think he must take on the protective coloration of his surroundings.”
“Amazing,” she murmured.
“He’d be the first to agree with you.” He took her arm. “Come.”
She glanced up at him, startled. “Where are we going?”
“You wanted a bath.” He was propelling her toward the perimeter of the camp. “You’re going to get one.”
“Here?” She glanced around. She could see at least twenty soldiers milling around the glade. “I think I’d prefer a little more privacy.”
“It will be private. You’ve forgotten how possessive I am. I’ve given orders that anyone within fifty yards of your ‘bathtub’ will answer to me.” He smiled grimly. “In my present mood I think I might be glad if one of them disobeyed.”
There was precious little chance his wish might come true, she thought. The aura of leashed violence surrounding Sandor would discourage any trespassers.
Her “bathtub” turned out to be a small, clear pond about a half mile from the camp. It was surrounded by thick shrubbery, forming a nautral protective barrier to guard her privacy.
Sandor reached into his pocket, brought out a bar of soap, and handed it to her. “Don’t lose it in the water. Soap is as scarce as all our other supplies right now. I’ll go back to the base and scavenge a bit to find you a clean towel, and I’ll bring your backpack at the same time.” He turned away. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”
She slowly shook her head as she watched him walk away without a backward glance. Just when she thought she had begun to know the man, he showed her a new and different side of his character. She might as well have been one of the bushes rimming the pond, for all the personal concern she’d detected in his parting words. Telling herself he must be upset by the news he had learned didn’t lessen her pique. Pique. What a petty emotion. She believed she had outgrown such childish emotions … but now it seemed Sandor was inspiring all sorts of feelings to emerge in her—and not all of them pleasant.
Perhaps, she thought, his actions hadn’t been as abrupt and impersonal as they seemed. Her past experiences had precluded the possibility of her having much modesty remaining in her makeup, but he couldn’t know that. Gallantly, he was providing privacy for her, as he hadn’t been able to do last night at the palace. She felt a stirring of tenderness for Sandor, and a slight smile curved her lips as she began to unbutton her blouse.
She was singing. No, it was more of a throaty hum, with an occasional word here and there. Sandor paused before the screen of shrubbery to listen. Lord, there wasn’t a more sensual sound on earth than a woman softly crooning to herself. He felt an equally natural and obvious bodily reaction to the unconscious sensuality of the sound. So obvious, he was forced to wait for a moment before pushing his way through the shrubbery.
Alessandra was standing in the middle of the pool, her back to him, her wet hair clinging to her neck and falling in long strands down her back. He hadn’t realized her hair was so long. It came to the middle of her naked back, now that it was no longer bound in a bun. Naked. The realization caught him with brutal force. He had been expecting it, yet the shock was still there, tightening the muscles of his stomach and thighs, stroking his arousal with feather-light fingers of electricity. He couldn’t breathe. He wanted to look away, hoping some of the ache would disappear if he could no longer see her. Yet he couldn’t shift his eyes away from her.
The water in which she stood was waist deep, but clear so that he could see the pale gleam of her lush hips and strong, well-shaped legs. Crystal drops of water beaded her shoulders and the long, beautiful line of her spine. Her skin glowed with a nearly palpable sheen in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. He watched in fascination as a small drop of water began to glide with excruciating slowness from her shoulder blade down her back. He smothered a groan as intense desire stabbed his loins.
The low croon broke off, and he saw the muscles of her back tense. “Sandor?”
“Turn around.” His voice was hoarse. “I want to see you.”
“I don’t think—” She stopped. She could feel his gaze on her naked back, and it was sending shivers of sensation through her. Heat. Touching her breasts, burrowing between her thighs. She closed her eyes. She had been about to protest, but she had sensed that this was coming. It was another step forward in their relationship. A step she wanted to take. “I want you to see me.”
She turned to face him. She threw back her head proudly, watching his face as he looked at her. Her large breasts were firm and ripe, and she was not ashamed of either their size or the response she knew would be obvious to him. She didn’t have to look down to know how swollen or taut she was or how her nipples were jutting out in hard, pointed invitation. She could see it in his eyes as they fastened on her with raw intensity. She inhaled sharply, the muscles of her belly flinching as if from a balled fist.
�
��Come here,” he said thickly, not taking his gaze from her breasts. He dropped to the ground the knapsack and towel he was carrying. To free his hands for her, she thought with a flare of excitement mingled with panic. “Please,” he added.
She began to walk toward him. The water was cool and heavy as it ran over her thighs and buttocks. She felt only heat. She was burning up. Sandor was burning too. She could see the flush darken the tan of his cheeks, and his eyes … His hand reached out and pulled her from the water to the bank. She felt a sudden shyness pierce her former serenity. “You’re very polite,” she said with an attempt at lightness. “Do you always say please when you want something?”
He didn’t raise his gaze from the full invitation of her breasts. “I’ll say anything you want to hear, if you’ll let me keep looking at you.” His words came jerkily. “And I’ll do anything you want me to do, if you’ll let me touch you.” He slowly bent his head. “Will you let me touch you, Alessandra?”
She couldn’t answer. Her throat tightened and then closed entirely when his tongue licked delicately at a drop of water beading the pink crest of her breast. Her body gave its own response, and she heard him laugh with husky delight before. his lips closed on her nipple. She moaned, the bar of soap dropping to the ground as her hands fluttered up to tangle in his hair. His mouth was moving with hot, moist urgency, suckling, nibbling at the long, pointed nipple. His fingers were toying with and encircling the swollen spheres as if he were starved for the taste and texture of her. She made a low sound deep in her throat and her fingers threaded through his hair, clutching at him with mindless urgency. Her body was trembling, and she could scarcely stand up.
He lifted his head, and his eyes were dark and oddly blind-looking. “You’re shivering,” he muttered. “Let me dry you.” He bent down to pick up the towel he had dropped to the ground. “Are you cold?”
“No, far from it.”
He carefully dried her throat and shoulders. The terry of the towel was gently abrasive against her skin. She tensed as the towel brushed against the exquisitely sensitive tips of her breasts. Sandor’s gaze lifted swiftly at the small betrayal, and he smiled.
'Til the End of Time: A Loveswept Contemporary Romance Page 6
