Free Untouchable by Linda Winstead Jones Page B

raced toward the tent in question, not running but walking so fast she might as well have been. Alix smiled. He should’ve given her a piece of his mind at the start. Perhaps then this trip would not have been so miserable.
    No one came near him as the sun set and the camp was prepared for the night. Only one even looked at Alex, and that was the blue woman, the slave who was to be presented to Jahn. Sanura looked at him with sad eyes and more than a touch of resignation. Death sentence or no, he was sorely tempted to grab her and plant his face to her breasts, to strip that scanty outfit from her fine body and bury himself inside her.
    He shook off the thoughts. She was Jahn’s, not his, and no woman was worth literally dying for. Not even one such as Sanura.
    Alix decided that he would sleep beneath the stars tonight. Only the women would have the luxury of tents until morning. He grabbed a small tin bowl of stew when it was ready, and sat near his bedroll to eat. His men and the Tryfynians avoided him. They were unaccustomed to his display of temper, he who was always imperturbable and calm. Apparently he had scared them all, not just the spoiled princess.
    It was the sentinel Vyrn who approached him first, braver—or stupider—than the others. He smiled as he offereda mug of cider. “Drink, sir. I think Phyls oversalted the stew tonight.”
    Alix took the mug. “The stew is a bit saltier than usual.” On some nights they ate only dried meat and hard biscuits, but since there was game aplenty in these hills and there were women about who could find wild vegetables and cook up a decent meal, on many evenings they indulged in a hot supper.
    A touch of gray still hung in the sky, but soon it would be dark. There was no moon tonight, and though the star-light on such a night was lovely, it did nothing to illuminate the world below. The women had already retired to their tents—one angry and hurt, the other tempting and forbidden. It was just as well that they were both out of sight.
    SANURA did not attempt to see into everyone around her all the time. It would be too draining, too disconcerting.
    But now and then, what a person was—or had become— was so strong she could not help but sense it. Like Vyrn’s tendency to violence, like Alix’s dark struggle. Sometimes she could not help but see.
    When Tari entered her tent bearing a cup of steaming tea, Sanura caught a glimpse of what she’d been sensing for several days. Love. Warmth. Devotion. She did not know which of the men in the traveling party had made Tari fall in love with him, but it had to be one of the soldiers or sentinels. The timid maid had never even spoken to the prince, that Sanura could tell, and Paki and Kontar kept to themselves, outsiders in this traveling party as much as Sanura herself was. But the maids and the soldiers mingled on a daily basis, and the change in Tari had come during the travels. It was unmistakable and very strong.
    Sanura was happy for the young girl. She wondered if she should warn Tari that not all men were as they seemed, but she quickly decided against it. Perhaps the man in question was toying with Tari, but it was just as possible that he had fallen in love with her. Even if her heart ended up broken, at least she knew love now, at this moment.
    “A cup of tea, m’lady,” Tari said meekly. “The night is a bit chillier than it has been of late. I thought you might need the warmth.”
    Sanura gratefully took the tea and wrapped her fingers around the warm cup. “Thank you.” Tari’s love had changed her, at least for now. She was not as harsh as she’d been before. She did not seem to hate the woman she was forced to serve. “Would you sit with me?”
    Tari hesitated and then lowered herself into a comfortable and relaxed position on the floor. “If you would like.”
    Sanura took a sip of the tea. It was overly sweet for her tastes, but she would not complain, not when the young woman before her had made