A Kiss of Fire (A Kiss of Magic #2)(15)

They would stop for the night, allowing the women to stretch out on their benches inside the carriage so they could sleep without being jounced about. So that the men could camp and rest.

Sin was impatient. Sleep meant more time wasted…more time apart from his goal.

More time apart from her.

Damn it. What was this fever he was in? How could it control him so thoroughly? He had fought it…god knows he fought it. For two autumns. Since the day he had met her. Now all he could think about was that fair porcelain skin, her long white neck…her rich, velvety red hair. That color. That color that no Kiltian woman had. Hells, even Saren women with that color seemed to be extremely rare. But that hair of hers shone like a jewel, sleek and shiny and oh so tempting. His dreams had been fevered with images of his hands holding her by her hair as she did sinful things to his body.

Growing aroused in the saddle was not comfortable by any stretch of the imagination and he shifted astride his Kiltianan stallion. Known for being fast and durable, he favored the breed. Some preferred the Jilutians, but speed was all well and good…until they got tired out easily. Kiltianans had been bred for speed in rocky, mountainous terrain. So, they had the best of all needs. Strength, endurance and speed. Not speed enough to rival the Jilutians, but enough for what they were needed for. Enough to haul rock and gold and gemstone and marble. And now…to haul plows and threshers.

The state of his body did nothing to improve his mood or his patience. It was an effort to keep control over himself, to keep from snapping off the heads of his men. But he thought they could feel him all the same, feel his frustration. With himself. With the situation…with everything. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like not being in control of himself and his needs. That was the whole reason behind all of this. To regain some control. Some sanity. Some normalcy.

His normal had been all about obsessing over her these past two autumns. More so these past two months since that kiss in the gardens. He had thought to purge himself of her that night. To kiss her and find her to be as dull and unappealing as all the other women in his life had become. To find her to be terrible at kissing, awkward at passion. Something. Anything but this twice-damned craving.

However the kiss had only made the craving more powerful. It had blinded him to everything else, made him utterly useless to his people who needed him. And all the while he had known she hated him. Everything he was, everything he stood for. She had sat across that table from him for a week thinking he was nothing but a savage. And she was probably right.

He knew he was doing nothing to endear himself to her by abducting her like this, that she would look on the act as an offense, but he would deal with that in time.

All he had to do was get her home. The rest would come with time.




Ariana was going mad. Each jolt and bounce went straight to her clenched teeth. Her bottom and legs were sore beyond imagining and it had grown so cold that she was heating the rocks and even the metal of the carriage to keep them warm and it was serving to exhaust her. She was aware of someone else doing the same thing…heating the metal of the carriage body. But it was so cold it didn’t last very long.

She wondered who it was. Who was the shaman who used fire like she did? Was it Sin? But whenever they stopped and let her out she did not see him amongst the men. He did not eat with them when they sat around the campfire and ate the fresh game that was hunted.

At first she had been too irritable to eat…to angry. Now she was just too tired. She had grown exceptionally wary of Mordol. He seemed intent on leering and making lewd comments at every turn. The more they travelled the more his mood soured. She imagined he was just as tired as she was. They had pushed on endlessly, their speed never changing, the horses only resting at night.

And then they plodded on the next day.

She had lost track of time. Track of days. But she refused to ask how much longer to their destination. She would not have them see her eager for the end of the journey…lest they mistake it for eagerness to be with Raja Sin. Mordol had already taken to suggesting as much.

“Bet you’re right eager to get out of this coach and into a nice warm bed…Sin’s bed. Yeah. He’s going to do you up fine. Lay you down and spread those pretty white thighs of yours.”

These sorts of comments were made whenever the others were out of earshot. She suspected if they were overheard or known about it would not go well for the man. But she refused to complain about it. He was goading her for just such a reaction. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

She kept from complaining about her aches and pains as well. Mariah was bearing it stoically and if she could bear it, then Ariana could too. Mariah only complained when she was cold, so that Ariana knew it was time to warm her.

When the coach came to a sudden halt only a short couple of hours after their last stop, Ariana was surprised. She heard shouting outside of the coach, a flurry of activity, then they were moving forward again.

Only to stop a short while later.

Wondering what was going on, Ariana tried to see out of the little window. She heard people, saw bodies running past. There was more shouting.

“Ho the gate!” one man shouted.

“Ho the gate!” came an echo.

There was the sound of grinding metal and then the carriage jolted forward again.

They were in civilization! No more fields…no more wilderness. There were people here. People behind a gate of some kind.