Kicking Ashe Read Online Free PDF Page A

twitched her mouth before she sobered.
    “I don’t think I can lie to you, Vidor Shan.” Her wide and seemingly direct gaze met his with no obvious signs of guile. Her scent drifted in the hot air, clear and free of taint.
    He frowned now. “Of course you can’t lie to me. I can smell deception.” Was he bluffing? Possibly. Would she know it?
    Her eyes widened, surprise coming back to her gaze and her scent. “Really?”
    She sounded more curious than dismayed. No surprise for a woman to be curious, but if she didn’t mean scent parsing, what did she mean? And how did she know his name? To ask was to expose weakness. Unless one found the right question, one that netted information without exposing ignorance.
    “Show me,” she said, challenge and curiosity deepening the color of her eyes. She stepped close, presenting her neck as if she didn’t know he’d been scent parsing her already. “I’ll say one thing true and one not. You guess which.”
    “He won’t need to guess, Lady,” Eamon said, leaning against a boulder, letting it take the weight of his pack containing the falling she’d called an automaton. Cadir crossed his arms as one about to be entertained.
    Her gaze traveled the small circle, her teeth abusing her lower lip. “Hmmm.” She grinned. “Truth or lie. When I visited Keltinar—”
    “Lie,” he stated, relieved at this one truth. She couldn’t lie to him. “You have never visited Keltinar.”
    “You’re sure about that?” Her brows arched.
    He secured her arm, lifted it to his nose, his gaze locked on hers, and sniffed. “Yes.”
    She didn’t blink. She did smile. It hit him like a kick to the gut. But worse was the sense he that he’d seen her look that way before. That it was not possible did not mitigate the certainty of the sensation.
    “You’re right. I’ve never visited Keltinar. Wanted to, but haven’t yet.”
    “You would not be allowed to visit.” He gritted his teeth. “And now you will speak truth. You will tell me why you are here.”
    She tipped her head back a bit, her hair falling away from the crisp lines of her face. “What does the truth smell like?”
    “Better than a lie,” Eamon said, “though your lie does not stink as much as a Zelk.”
    Shan hid his sigh at this revealing statement. He was still young. And he had yet to learn just how vile the stench of a Zelk could be.
    She grinned at Eamon, but her gaze swiftly returned to him. She leaned in, reversing his hold on her arm, her fingers closing around his wrist now. She lifted his wrist, bringing her nose close to his pulse point. “Is that true?”
    “No.”
    She shook her head, her mouth tipping down. “Shame on you, Vidor Shan.”
    He frowned. “You can scent parse?”
    “No.”
    Truth.
    “There are less stinky ways to detect lies.”
    He wanted to ask. Didn’t. He turned her hand over, studied the way her fingers curled around his wrist. It should have looked wrong, pale lavender against brown. Cool against warm. His pulse surged against the soft pads touching his skin. His pulse. It surged again, as if to confirm his suspicion.
    Her lips curved up again, slow and knowing. “What else can you smell?”
    Cadir grinned. “When a woman wants you.”
    Eamon shoved him. “Like you’d know.”
    She laughed, but without breaking her gaze from his. “Interesting.”
    His pulse stuttered at the scent of pheromones mingling with her musk. He fought what his body wanted to do in response to this provocation—a problem he should not have with inhibitors in place—felt the sharp honing of his senses at the complexity of her scent. The fine grain of her skin misted with sweat. Her breath brushed his face, soft as a breeze. It cooled his skin but sent heat spiking everywhere else. Her fingers banded his wrist, the slender fingers not long enough to encircle his wrist. The pads were soft as silk, but seared where they touched. Scent sense had always dominated, but now he’d swear he heard the