Free Urden, God of Desire by Anastasia Rabiyah Page A

to her, but she doubted him. Her heart raced in her chest. She’d wanted to meet him since the first moment she saw him on the com when he dismissed her. It would be a shame to slit his throat. A shame only because she longed to know him, more than the politician she was assigned to assassinate should he not agree to the Empire’s terms. I will make him agree.
    She followed the guard into a side hall and exited the tunnel into a dimly lit boardroom with no windows. A tiny red light blinked in the corner of the ceiling above the opposite door—a single camera. A table centered the space, six chairs pushed in around its edges.
    “Well, where is he?”
    “The Shiemir will be with you shortly.” With that, the guard exited through the main door. Melia continued to survey her surroundings. A bar was inset in the wall beside her. She hurried over to inspect its contents. “Maybe the Shiemir will care for a few drinks tonight.” Judging from the way he acted the night before, liquor might be the answer to her problems. It might just loosen his stubbornness, get him to the sign the treaty, and she could be on the next flight to Kyleena headquarters before dawn.
    The door slid on its automated runners. She turned to face her opponent. Shiemir Alonwei entered alone, his face set, his hazel eyes sweeping over her body. The lights came on. The door closed, sealing them off from the others in the palace.
    “Well, well, well. We meet at last, Cossia.” He moved like a predator, both stalking and sure of himself. His hand extended. She reached to grasp his hot palm. A surge of electricity pulsed through her just as it had when she touched the Unangi carvings.
    “Something wrong?” he asked.
    “No.” she tugged her hand from his grip.
    “I suppose we should get down to business. Do you have the treaty?” His hand dropped to his side. He waited.
    “Yes, of course, Shiemir.” She passed him her sharer. He took it and adjourned to the table, seating himself at the head.
    Melia turned to the bar, crossing the floor to examine what stores he kept. “Would you like a drink?”
    “No, thank you.” The sharer clicked open. The pads of his fingers tapped the screen, touching places she had touched.
    She wanted him to touch her.
    “What were you drinking the other night?” Her fingers passed over the many bottles.
    “Red Fury,” he answered offhandedly.
    She paused at the red-liquid filled bottle and slid it out. “Mind if I have one?”
    “Help yourself.” His tapping silenced as he read over the proposition, or demand, depending on the reader’s point of view. He laughed under his breath when she sat down at his side.
    Melia watched his face, his eyes moving from side-to-side, his lips as he read silently to himself. She drank down half her glass. Heat burned her throat, searing a path to her stomach and warming her limbs.
    He raised his face to regard her. “Tastes like cinnamon, doesn’t it?”
    She nodded. The undeniable urge to reach out and grasp his hand disturbed her. She gripped her glass tighter.
    “You’re awfully quiet, considering the conversations we had before. I expected a battle with you, or at least an argument.” He reached over and touched her forearm, smirking. “Cat got your tongue?”

Chapter Twelve
    The Game
     
    She looked so nervous. Enrue didn’t understand it. Even his small joke hadn’t made her laugh. She stared into him and drank down the rest of her Red Fury. Her cat-like eyes were even more beautiful in person. She sucked in her deep wine-colored bottom lip, which glistened with moisture. He longed to kiss her right then, but he gathered his self-control, reminding himself he must hold back.
    “Do you agree to the terms?” she asked, her voice cool, unyielding. Her goblet made a small chink when she set it down. Star-shapes reflected through the glass, creating fanciful patterns across the wood.
    “Would you like another?” He reached for it, ignoring her question. She nodded,