stones.
Overhead was a honeycomb dome that allowed in a golden patchwork of sunlight. Illusion? Probably, but it felt real. The floors were tiled into a beautiful mosaic of blue and yellow and brilliant red, and the windows covered by delicate lattice panels. There were bronze urns that stood taller than her and chandeliers crusted with breathtaking gems.
At the far end of the courtyard were arched doors that led to the private rooms where she could catch glimpses of low, deeply cushioned sofas and oversized velvet pillows. No doubt the rooms were filled with beautiful women who devoted their lives to pleasing their master.
As far as prisons went, it wasn’t bad.
She wrinkled her nose, her gaze lingering on the fountain that sprayed a sparkling cascade of water into the air. Okay. It was better than ‘not bad.’ It was as close to paradise as she’d ever been.
But that didn’t make it any less a prison.
She heaved a wistful sigh, unprepared for Baine to grasp her chin and tug her face up to meet his brooding gaze.
“Don’t,” he commanded in abrupt tones.
Tayla frowned. “Don’t what?”
“Look so hurt,” he growled, his amber eyes smoldering with frustration. “It…troubles me.”
“It troubles you?” she demanded. Was he serious? Did he expect her to be dancing with joy? “What about me? I just learned that my own father bartered me off like a piece of property.”
He studied her, his fingers skimming lightly down her throat to linger on the small, sensitive burn he’d created with his dragon-kiss.
“Do you fear your time with me?” he asked, something in his dark voice suggesting he wasn’t pleased by the thought she might be afraid of him. “I have no intention of hurting you.”
Weirdly, she believed him. His touch was possessive, but oh-so-tender. As if he was deliberately leashing his power to make sure he didn’t bruise her skin.
She shivered. Bad Tayla. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about his soft caresses. Or imagining those slender fingers stroking down her naked body while he gently parted her legs and…
“That’s not the point,” she abruptly muttered. Yeesh. This dragon was obviously screwing with her mind.
He toyed with the tiny ribbon that was threaded through the neckline of her nightgown, the back of his fingers brushing over the upper curve of her breasts.
Sparks crackled over her skin.
“Then what is?” he demanded.
She struggled to remember. She had a point. Of course she did. It was just that it was hard to think when her nipples were hard.
“I have a life. A business,” she at last managed to latch on to a stray reason. “I don’t want to be a part of your harem.”
###
Baine made a sound of annoyance. Why was she making this so difficult?
She should appreciate the fact that he’d brought her to his harem that had been specifically designed for her comfort. And that he’d treated her with such fragile care.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t share his desire. Her arousal scented the air like the finest perfume.
Torn between the need to carry her to the nearest bed and prove her reluctance was no more than a pretense, and his pride that demanded she admit the truth without his coercion, Baine stiffened as Char whispered in the back of his mind.
Dammit.
What now?
“Choose your bedroom and change into one of the gowns,” he commanded, sweeping an arrogant hand toward the arched doorway. “I will return to share our dinner.”
Without warning, the imp reached out to grasp his arm.
“Baine,” she said in a soft protest.
His gaze was locked on the fingers that lay against his bare skin. They were slender and pale and exquisitely feminine in contrast to the vivid tattoos that swirled over his body.
It was the first time she’d willingly touched him. The sensation was…cataclysmic.
“You’ve accepted you belong to me,” he said, the words clipped. He wasn’t prepared for her to witness his intense reaction.
There was a pause before she gave a grudging nod of her head.
“Yes.”
“Then do as I command.”
Shaking off her hand, he turned to head out of the courtyard. He’d reached the door when her voice brought him to a sharp halt.
“How long?” she demanded.
He glanced over his shoulder, feeling a funny twinge in the center of his chest at the sight of her standing alone in the middle of the room. With her shoulders squared and her chin tilted to a proud angle, she should have looked silly. He could destroy her with one puff of fire.
But he’d never seen anything more beautiful.
Her hair tumbled down her back,