Protector of the Flame Read Online Free PDF Page B

gaze burning a hole right through her. Unease stirred in their merged stream, but she couldn’t pinpoint if it was hers alone.
    “Take your time,” he finally said before leaving.
    She climbed into the hot tub, letting her body unwind. Heavy pressure in her belly worsened and the pounding headache deepened. She lingered in the water until the smoky scent of roasted meat filled the air, making her want to retch.
    After drying off, she put on a buttery yellow kaftan she found hanging beside a mirror.
    A tray of fire-roasted food, bread, soup and wine waited on a low table near the bong and pillows. Cyrus had peeled off layers of clothing, only keeping on his pants. Chest bare and reclined on cushions, he was the most striking man she’d ever seen. His body was all sculpted lines and irresistible muscle.
    “There’s rabbit, fish and vegetables.”
    Settling in beside him, she sniffed the soup. The smell of chickpea and cumin soured her waning appetite.
    Cyrus ate straight from the platter with his hands. He even sucked juicy bits of rabbit from his fingers. He was different in this country, in their opulent tent. The weight of their lives didn’t seem so heavy on him.
    “You barely touched breakfast. I thought you’d be starving by now.”
    She pulled off a piece of fresh baked bread. “The spices aren’t appealing.”
    “You’re pallid.” He canted forward and pressed the back of his hand to her cheek and forehead.
    “I’m nauseated from the ride and have a touch of jetlag. It’s nothing serious.” She took a sip of wine, avoiding his eyes. “What’s with the bong?” Intricate gold and silver etchings curled around the decorative base and up the two-foot neck.
    “It’s not a bong.” He chuckled. “It’s a hookah used to smoke tobacco.”
    She scrunched her face at the idea of smoking.
    “The tobacco is flavored. You’ll enjoy it.”
    Once he finished eating, he fiddled with the hookah, adding burning coals atop and drawing long puffs until plumes of fragrant white smoke flowed, then handed her the pipe.
    She inhaled delicious apple-scented smoke. She thought she’d cough but didn’t. A second puff gave her an immediate head buzz.
    Smiling, he leaned back and twirled his fingers in her damp hair. “How many children do you want?”
    The truth was she could do without any. Yet, she couldn’t deny her body’s yearning to have a baby…his baby. Not that it mattered. She’d resigned to break the curse by having the child most Kindred feared enough to kill them—the redeemer. “How many do you want?”
    “As many as you’re willing to bear.”
    Kindred could have children for hundreds of years since they weren’t limited by the same physiological constraints as humans. All of the warriors with them had siblings in the double digits. An unfathomable idea for someone like her. Someone with a childhood tainted by corrupted memories, someone who’d been abandoned by her mother, someone not quite whole.
    “You’ll be a fantastic mother,” he said as if sensing her thoughts. “You only doubt it because you can’t see what I see in you. Your warmth, your beauty, your incredible strength and courage. You will love any child of ours with a full heart.”
    She tasted his lips in a soft kiss, loving him even more for the way he loved her despite how damaged she was down at the core.
    Between the warriors of Sekhem on their heels and insidious gifts from immortals, she might never have the chance to bear one child much less a herd.
    She took a deep swig of wine, relaxed on his shoulder and diverted her thoughts from the necklace and to the happier, improbable world where they might have a family.
    “How many languages do you speak?”
    “Ten. Eleven, if I count Tagalog, but I’m not fluent in it.”
    “What’s your favorite?”
    “I like the complexity of the English language. There are so many different ways to say the same thing. But I love the sound of Russian.”
    He got up and went to one