“Okay?” he went on and I shook my head.
“No, not okay,” I stated and lifted a hand to curl it tight around his wrist at my breast, making my point.
His fingers tensed at my bottom.
“Not okay,” he muttered, his painted eyes moving over my face.
“Nope,” I affirmed.
“Me sah,” he stated, his fingers giving my breast a light squeeze then he took them away and lifted his hand, touching his finger to my chest, “Sah.”
Not this, he said, this. In other words, he wasn’t asking if I was okay with him touching me but if I was just okay.
“No, Lahn, I’m not okay. My skin is burned, my ass hurts from sitting for hours, I don’t like what’s happening out there,” I swung my arm behind me but kept his eyes at the same time I shook my head, “and I’m tired. I want to go back to the tent.” I pointed at me and then said, “Cham.”
His fingers moved to trail lightly along the top of my bandeau as he said something in a quiet voice.
“Whatever,” I muttered, looking over his shoulder.
Then I heard him call out and I looked back at him to see his head turned. I turned mine in that direction and saw a woman with a tray headed our way. She nodded, bowed, turned and scuttled away. I looked back at Lahn when he started talking and the only word I understood was cham.
I hoped this meant I was released from my duties and going home.
Then his hand lifted, going around my back, he pulled my hair off one side of my neck then his hand wrapped around the back of my neck and he drew me closer and to the side until his mouth was at my ear. He whispered something there as his other hand left my bottom and started to stroke my back.
I had a feeling this meant I had the sweet Lahn back but too little, too late. My skin was fried, I’d been bored out of my brain and people were fornicating on the dance floor, something he had to know was not of my culture but definitely knew I didn’t like. He didn’t give one shit about me. He could be sweet but when he wasn’t, he really wasn’t and there were far more of those times than the sweet ones.
His fingers tensing at my neck pulled me back and positioned me until his face was all I could see and his hand kept stroking my back in a light, sweet way (the brute!) when he spoke again.
“Me Geoffrey, na kuvoo?” he asked, his face serious but not hard.
“No Geoffrey,” I stated and he nodded once.
“No Geoffrey, Circe. Nahna Dax tahnoo tee, na kuvoo?”*
He shouldn’t have dismissed Diandra; I had pretty much no clue. The only thing I could do was nod.
“Dohno,” he muttered, his hand left my neck, his eyes moved to it and I watched his face go soft when he stared at it.
That look was appealing too, the ass**le.
Then he moved his hand to his chest and wiped it all around and even in the firelight I saw he was rubbing my gold dust on his skin.
“Na loot kay. Rah loot quaxi. Dax loot Dahksahna,” his hand moved around my neck again and he jerked me gently forward so my face was in his, “Lahn loot Lahnahsahna. Nahna rah lapay loh kah luna boh. Kah quaxi lapan loh nahna luna anah, kah Circe.”**
Seriously, he shouldn’t have dismissed Diandra.
“I get that whatever you said you meant it, big guy, but I… don’t… understand… you,” I told him.
He smiled and he knew I didn’t understand him. But he totally didn’t care.
“Kah Dax?” We heard and both our heads turned to the side to see a painted warrior coming our way.
My eyes moved to the steps to see another warrior striding up, eyes on us.
Lahn started communicating his orders before he got up, both his hands on my ass, holding me to him and my hands went to his shoulders to steady myself so I wouldn’t take a header backwards down a killer flight of stone steps. He kept talking as his fingers gave my bottom a squeeze then he moved me slightly away indicating I should drop my legs. I did, he set me on my feet and I heard the name “Geoffrey” in whatever he was saying before he finished saying it.
The warrior nodded and his eyes cut to me. Then his arm extended to the steps.