~ Excerpt ~

He observed her take a seat on the farthest corner of the blanket away from him, ankles and lower legs crossed, hands and fingers clasping and unclasping as she fidgeted.  The way her gaze kept darting to and fro he wondered if she were searching for an escape route.  He chuckled to himself.  He couldn’t blame her nervousness.  Before, when they had briefly touched, a swath of burning need had coursed through him, and now from all apparent appearances he figured she must have felt the connection as well.  Moving in close, he took a cross legged seat in front of her, made sure their knees touched.

“Give me your hands,” his voice, like the softest of silk gliding over her body, commanded as he held out his hands to her palms up. 

Reluctantly, she placed her fingers on top of his up turned hands.  His strong thumb, gently rubbing the backs of her fingers, locked her in place.  The heat from the skin to skin contact skipped up her arms to the newly awakened part of her soul, sparking her desire for him again.  She jerked her arms to pull from his grasp but he held tight.  The warmth intensified.

“Close your eyes my dear,” he drawled seductively, continuing to massage her knuckles.

“Fine,” she said resigned and did as he asked.

Within seconds the scene of her approaching him on the cliff rolled on her mind’s screen.  Her limbs and core burned with unreserved anger.  As much as she loved him, she hated him, and the absolute loathing streaming through her spurred her on to confront him.

There he is, that wretch, Gah’von.

In a gale of fury she stormed up to him, watching as he pivoted his upper body away from the view of the valley to face her, only briefly registering the pleading in his eyes, the slight crinkling at the corners of his lips.  There would be no forgiveness, not this day, and especially not from her.