Servant of the Gods Read Online Free PDF

sideways in quick glimpses before she took a step forward, then another step. She was being presumptuous for a slave. Biting her lip, she let out a sigh and reached out to touch him. Awaited the cuff, the slap.
    The blow never came.
    Ever so lightly, she ran her fingertips across the smooth skin of his chest, spread her hands to the limits of the chain that ran between her wrists to trace the curves and plains of him. He felt very good, his tawny skin warm beneath her hands, as smooth as silk. Even with her fingers stretched to their maximum she couldn’t span the muscle there. She ran her fingertips lightly down over his taut abdomen. Though she knew her skin had darkened in the sun, her hands were still pale against the tawny color of his skin.
    He was beautiful.
    Khai’s breath caught as her light touch ignited the desire within him like a spark to tinder.
    There was no less pride in her actions at that moment than there had been that first day. She knew what it was she did. Her touch, therefore, was all the more electrifying.
    Escape?
    For her it was impossible. She was too distinctive, too unusual, and she was too smart not to know it. They would only find her, bring her back. The penalty for an escaped slave was severe. Even so, she hadn’t bowed one finger length, she simply accepted what was. If chance gave her the opportunity to find her freedom, she would have taken it, he knew, but where would she go?  Where could she go in lands where her very hair, her eyes, marked her as foreign? And so, knowing her fate, she simply took what came.
    So she offered him…herself, freely…if he wanted to take her.
    Looking into those ethereal eyes he found he wanted to, and badly.
    Tomorrow was Thebes with all the intrigue and politics of the King’s city, a different thing than the intrigue and politics of the King’s army. Exciting, yes, but it had its own dangers. With Kamenwati as Grand Vizier, Khai walked carefully, much more carefully than here.
    He looked down into her unusual eyes.
    If he’d had the gold, he’d have bought her himself in that moment as her hands touched him so lightly, so enticingly.
    Instead, slowly, he curled his hand into the silken sunlight of her hair to cup her head and lower his mouth to hers in that most intimate of gestures. One could touch the body, but mouth to mouth, eye to eye and soul to soul? Khai tasted her, to find her clean and clear, as sweet as water.
    Eres’s heart caught as she lifted her mouth to his, felt his lips touch hers, and fought the sudden, ridiculous urge to weep. She was a warrior and accepted her fate.
    He hadn’t needed to kiss her.
    She slid her hands up over his strong shoulders, to curl around his neck. Her fingers speared into his hair at the nape of his neck to draw his mouth down to hers as she rose to her tiptoes to meet his embrace.
    He was the first man she’d ever met who made her feel small, almost fragile. The feel of him beneath her hands was exhilarating.
    A thrill shivered through her at the look in his gold-touched eyes.
    Khai felt her quiver.
    Skimming his hands down her back over the crude material of the rough shift, Khai felt the slender yet firm shape of her beneath the rough linen, the long firm muscles of her back, as his hands cupped her tightly rounded bottom. A breath shuddered out of him as he drew her close. Need was sharp.
    He needed to see what it was he touched. He’d never seen her unclothed, for he’d known that once he did, he would need to have her, to take her.
    In one quick motion, he drew the shift over her head. It tangled in the chains around her wrists as he pinned her arms above her head against the central tent pole, baring her body to him so she was dressed only in the glorious mass of her shimmering hair as it spilled free and tumbled to her waist.
    The bruises had faded but the scars remained.
    Those unearthly eyes met his. She lifted her chin and arched her back. Had any other slave looked at him so boldly he