Free Lady Emily's Exotic Journey by Lillian Marek Page A

thought that he had been assigned by her father to reassure her, help her over any difficult spots, and generally hold her hand. To his surprise, none of that had been necessary. What he needed to do was respond to a barrage of questions, some practical, some abstract, some about things that required thought, and some that he was unable to answer at all.
    She was interested in everything—the scenery, the villages, the people, the sights, the sounds, the smells. She noticed everything, and her comments were sharp and perceptive and amusing. He found himself seeing things he thought were familiar in a new way.
    In short, he enjoyed talking with her. He did not think he had ever enjoyed conversation with a woman before. They had become friends. It was a novel experience for him, being friends with a woman.
    It was not that he did not notice how attractive she was, how nicely formed. He was not a blind man, after all. Even in the loose Turkish garments, when she removed the enveloping cloak, the sash circled a small waist, and it was clear that she was nicely rounded both above and below. And when he lifted her from her horse, she felt just right in his hands.
    Yes, she was attractive, but he had found other women attractive, and he had found them often enough over the years. This was different. He liked Emily, and this liking was something new for him.

Six
    On the fourth day, they were flying along on a swift current beneath a brilliantly clear sky. Cliffs of broken yellow stone rose a hundred feet or more on either side of the blue river. The colors were so vibrant that the scene looked as if it had been painted by a child.
    Emily had left the tent, and Lucien began to turn to her to share his thoughts on the scene when he saw a puff of smoke and a glint of metal by one of the boulders on the cliff. At that moment a bullet plowed into the deck beside him, and he heard the shot.
    He flew across the feet separating them to knock Emily to the ground, covering her with his body. “Keep down,” he ordered when she tried to raise her head. More bullets fell about them, most splashing into the river. He had his pistol in his hand, but he could not see a target on the cliff. The Turkish troopers on the next raft were firing away but not to any useful purpose that he could see.
    Meanwhile, the oarsmen on their raft, who had first dropped their oars in a panic, were now working madly to keep them from being dashed against the rocks as the current swept them around a curve. The skipper joined them, shouting encouragement, until a bend in the river had them out of sight of their attackers. As the wild rocking of their craft ceased and they resumed their placid drift, Lucien became aware of his more immediate surroundings.
    To be precise, he became aware of Emily lying beneath him. A warm, soft Emily lying beneath him, a situation his own body found most agreeable. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, and he was positioned between her thighs. She was so soft, such a perfect match for him. She did not appear to be distressed by their position, for she was making no effort to extricate herself. Did she understand what their position was? Could she tell just how agreeable his body found this position? Because his body was reacting most strongly to this juxtaposition.
    She was looking up at him with an expression of dazed surprise. He wondered if he was looking at her with the same expression. Her hands were sitting on his shoulders, not pushing him away but not drawing him down. Just touching him. Her lips were parted ever so slightly. In surprise? In invitation? He was close enough to feel the damp warmth of her breath. He was overcome with longing and began to lower his mouth to hers.
    An outburst of noise called him to himself. The captain of this fleet was roaring with laughter, and Oliphant was bellowing at him in fury. Lucien hastily pushed himself up and helped Emily to her feet.
    â€œYou are all right?” he