Honeybun in a Loin Cloth

CHAPTER ONE-3

SHE STOOD UP AND TURNED as he approached, her body recognizing him before the formal introduction. It was the man from the woods that morning. The man she’d deliberately taunted with her body. She still didn’t know why she’d done it. It had been a reckless impulse. Something she rarely indulged in. There was a reason she didn’t usually go with her impulses. There was always a price to be paid from them.

It was time to pay the price for that reckless taunting.

He stopped in front of her, his gaze fixed on her face. His smile didn’t stop at his lips; it spread across his dark, handsome face and crinkled into the corners of his eyes. He was over six feet tall with longish, curly auburn hair and a shadow of sexy stubble on his jaw. He was very lean, not bulky with muscle, but his arms and thighs were nicely chorded. With a square jaw, full lips, and grey, deep set eyes he rated extremely high on the yummy scale.

Though it took everything she had in her, Chandini Moonglow fixed him with her patented all-suffering-Indian look and pressed her lips together as he offered his hand and name.

“Godric Honeybun. My friends call me God.”

It would have sounded arrogant and condescending coming from anyone else, but the self-deprecating good humor showing clearly on his handsome face made the statement fun rather than obnoxious. Dini pressed her lips harder and looked away, afraid she would return his infectious smile.

She crouched beside the fire and dropped slivers of carrot into her stew. Brushing her hands together she half stood and reached for the metal spoon she’d hung on the tripod. Stirring the soup carefully with the spoon, she waited for him to speak again. His voice was deeper than an exploratory well in the desert, and made her thighs tighten with instant need.

Dini’s hair drifted toward the fire, but before she could catch it up, a strong hand found the heavy strand and tucked it back over her shoulder. She reached up and grabbed his hand, examining it carefully. It was covered in small cuts. Her gaze slipped to the other hand, which held a large, white potato and a small knife. She lifted an eyebrow and smiled.

He shrugged. “I’m used to a peeler.”

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HER SMILE DRIFTED AWAY and she turned, tugging on his hand as she headed toward her tent. Godric happily complied, his heart picking up a few beats as she pulled him to a spot just outside the small, authentic looking structure and dropped his hand, bending down to disappear inside.

He stood there for a moment, unsure what she wanted him to do, but she reappeared after only a few seconds. She had a small jar in one hand.

Turning the lid on the jar, she opened it and dipped a slender finger into the smooth, green cream inside. She wiggled her fingers to indicate that she wanted his hand and he offered it without question.

The cream she soothed over his cuts felt cool and soft, like silk against his skin. But as she worked it gently into his wounds the skin warmed and began to tingle.

Godric wasn’t sure if it was the cream making his skin tingle or her gentle touch. Either way she obviously had a knack for the healing arts. When she was done she dropped his hand and closed the jar, dipping her head in a quick nod...apparently to indicate that she was done with him.

Godric had no intention of being dismissed so easily. “So, you’re a pork chop wench?” Humor quivered in his voice.

Her dark brown eyes lifted, fixing on his face with an intensity that made him catch his breath. She watched him carefully for a long moment, her gaze locked on his. She took two, quick steps until she was standing so close he could feel her sweet breath against his face. Reaching up, she plucked something from his hair and flung it toward the ground.

Then she tilted her face upward, her soft, full lips opening slightly, and leaned closer, as if she was going to kiss him.

Godric held his breath, his nostrils flaring under the warm, sensual onslaught of her scent. She appeared to stop breathing too, her eyes growing soft. After a tension-filled moment, her tongue slipped out to slide across her bottom lip and she dipped toward his ear.

“Brown recluse spider. They’re poisonous.” She turned away and disappeared into her tent again, her husky voice still thrumming across Godric’s nerves and tightening his gut.