"I never really knew him, and my mother rarely talked about him."
Sadness colored her voice and gleamed in her eyes. He knew what it was like to miss a parent, to ache for them. His mother had died when he was barely a teenager. It had been a long, painful death as cancer ravaged her body. He'd tried to be a man about it for many years and pretend it hadn't affected him. But at nights, when he'd been alone with his thoughts, he'd remember her voice, the way she'd sung him lullabies, the way she'd read him stories, and he would cry, wishing her soft arms were around him.
He'd weakened once and tried to talk to his dad about it, but his dad had gone on a weekend, drunk. After that he'd never let his dad see his pain, nor had he let his brothers and sister know. He was the oldest child, and he had to be strong. Even if his dad hadn't given him the reminder over and over again, he would have known that he was supposed to be the rock. The man they could lean on and count on to see them through.
To this day, though, he missed his mom with everything inside of him.
"My father will be strong and wonderful," Jewel said, cutting into his thoughts. "And he'll be happy to see me."
Desperate, hollow hope infused her tone. She wanted him to agree, not tell her that the man had wanted nothing to do with her or he would have found her - no matter the obstacles. "I'm sure you're right."
Her shoulders relaxed, her facade of faith restored. "I wonder if I look like him. My mother had pale hair, green eyes, and skin so translucent it glowed."
"Okay, I honestly hope you look nothing like your dad because that would make your dad one hot babe, and that's just not right."
A tinkling laugh escaped her.
The sound of that laugh heated his blood and reminded him of the kiss they'd almost shared earlier. "You mentioned when you saw glimpses of me, you saw me with my women."
Jewel's expression lost all traces of humor. She pressed her lips together and nodded, her eyes taking on a weary haze.
"What was I doing with them?"
She colored prettily again, and this time the color spread to her neck - and under the collar of her robe. "You talked with them and laughed. You danced and did, uh, other things."
He grinned, the corners of his lips slowly inching upward. There was something about that prudish tone of hers that amused him. "You sound scandalized. Have you never danced before?"
Her back went ramrod straight. "For your information, no, I have not."
"Are we talking about dancing or having sex?" He had to smother a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.
"Both," she answered on a growl.
His smile disappeared. "You're telling me you've never danced with a man?" "That's right."
"Never been held by a man? Never gotten naked with a man?"
"No." She looked away.
Possessiveness consumed him, joining ranks with his desire. He knew he shouldn't feel that way, knew he should feel sorry for her. God knows, she'd missed out on a lot of stuff. But he couldn't force pity past the need to be her first. He wanted to be the one to teach her, well, everything. Wanted to be the first man to lick her breasts, the first man to taste the passion between her legs. He wanted to be the first man to hear his name on her lips as she came.
Of course, he wouldn't allow himself to actually sleep with her, no matter how much he might want to, but damn if he wouldn't introduce her to everything else in between. No harm in that.
"On our way to find the Jewel of Dunamis," he said, the words hoarse, "will we go into a town?" "Yes." She sucked on her bottom lip.
His body hardened at the sight. "Does this town have a bar? Music?"
"Yes." This time she drew out the word, letter by letter.
How hesitant she sounded, as if she knew where he was going with this line of questioning but didn't dare hope. He didn't have time for what he was about to suggest, but he could no more shut himself up than he could ignore the ever-persistent General Happy.
At ease, soldier. "We'll stop at the bar, and I'll teach you." Blue eyes