Free Hers To Cherish (Verdantia Book 3) by Patricia A. Knight Page A

wondered if he enjoyed Pansy sexually and delighted in having his every whim anticipated. Probably. Men. She snorted. Melancholy pervaded her at the thought of Pansy in the scenarios Steffania had played out with Ram and that furthered her smoldering resentment. Groveling midget.
    Pansy served him in the bath and brought him delicacies to eat and drink. Pansy massaged oil into his tired body in the evening and dressed him in his practice armor. It was Pansy who left with him in the morning and Pansy who returned with him at night. Pansy, Pansy, Pansy!
    Steffania felt indebted to the woman, but an entire constellation of discontent filled her, worsened by the awareness she was jealous. Jealous over the horny bastard! Steffania snarled quietly. I’ll get over it. This assignment will end, and I’ll move on. And yet, here she was, standing at the front door peering out like some dutiful housewife, waiting anxiously for her lord and master to return. Well, fuck this!
    She whirled angrily from her post at the door and marched to the bath. Turning the faucet on full, she adjusted the temperature and poured a generous dollop of oil into the water pounding into the tub. As the bathroom filled with the sound of running water, she stripped and sank into the foam. With arm gestures punctuating her statements, she expressed herself vociferously about stupidly subservient women and infuriatingly arrogant men.
    “ I see you still have not grasped the efficacy of guarding your tongue.”
    Steffania sat up with a gasp and turned. She hadn’t heard Ram come in. I can’t believe I’ve done this again. Her shoulders drooped. She dropped her head into her hand and then looked up. “Evidently not. Just kill me now.”
    Ram shook his head slowly, a tiny smile c urling one corner of his mouth. “I wouldn’t dream of killing you, sweetheart. For what I have planned, I need you alive.”
    The wicked look in his strange blue eyes set her heart beating faster.
    Shit, shit, shit.
    Ram spoke over his shoulder to the ever-present Pansy. “Bring me something to eat and drink then you may have the evening to yourself. Don’t disturb me until morning.”
    “Sir,” Pansy said and disappeared.
    Ram walked into the center of the room and began to undress
    Steffania watched the easy play of his muscles revealed clearly by the cyber-suit as he stripped off the heavy, padded guards on his legs, abdomen, groin and shoulders. He dropped them in a pile in the middle of the room. That unkempt, feral look works for him. Dirt and sweat streaked his face and collars of dark grime filled the creases of his neck. Sweaty curls of dark hair brushed cheeks that were in sore need of a razor. And he really needs to shave twice a day. Ramsey raised his head and lifted one eyebrow then rubbed at his shadowed chin thoughtfully.
    Right. Comm-linc. Damn-it-all! She was discovering the hard way that if their proximity was close enough it didn’t take much to “direct” a thought to Ramsey.
    Accompanied b y the ripping sound of the hook-and-loop material that sealed the cyber-suit, Ramsey stripped nude. He left piles of dirty gear and sweat-stained clothes strewn about the marble floor then sauntered to the edge of the tub and stepped in. Sinking slowly back into the water he submerged himself, then rose to the surface in a splashing cascade and scraped the soapy water from his face. Extending his arms on the ledge of the huge tub, he leaned back and closed his eyes with a soft groan. He circled his right hand, opening and closing it in a fist.
    Steffania hadn’t thought past the fact that Ramsey had stopped the man whipping her. The pain from her own lashing had consumed her entirely. But in the last day or so, she had noticed Ram favoring his right hand and the “shrinking violet” rubbing ointment into it. Her memory belatedly supplied the picture of a hand grabbing the falling lash—Ramsey’s sword hand. Knowing how it had affected her, Steffania shuddered at