Look at her father. The man lived to lie and cheat. Maybe it was genetic. She shook her head, denying the very idea. If that was the case, both she and Esau were doomed. And that, she would not believe.
No, circumstance combined with genetics and upbringing to mold people. Then there was choice. How much of his life had been his choice? She was familiar with having limited options. You did what you had to in order to live.
She would not allow the pleasure of their dance to be eclipsed by the nasty words of a few women. The memory was one she’d hold close to her heart and cherish. Dancing was something she’d always watched but had never participated in. No one had ever asked. She’d tried to memorize the steps, practicing at home in case the opportunity had ever arisen.
The reality was nothing like her fantasies. First of all, practicing by herself was nothing like actually doing it with a partner. Second of all, Zaxe was no mystery man, but a hot-blooded male, very real and very aroused.
Dancing was sensual by nature, a part of the courtship between men and women. A slight touch, a quick glance, all meant so much. All her senses had been attuned to him. It was the man, not the twists and turns, that had left her breathless.
The area was deserted, the rest of the village back at the feast. “We should have said good night and thanked Qasim.” It was a grave oversight, could be viewed as an insult.
“He’ll forgive us.” Like a wraith, Zaxe slid silently through the shadows. She had to hurry to keep up, sometimes losing him momentarily. She finally released a breath when they reached their destination. If there were sentries, she couldn’t see them.
He opened the door and held it. It was wicked of her, but she deliberately brushed against him as she passed. The slight hitch in his breath reassured her that he wasn’t quite as cool as he seemed.
If she was tense and frustrated, he should be, too. Maybe that wasn’t fair, but she wasn’t exactly in the mood to be reasonable. Her body was hot and she ached for his touch. Now that she understood what sex with him was like, she craved more.
Fighting the urge to go to him, she walked to the table and lit a small lantern before dropping onto one of the chairs. He shut the door and frowned at the wooden panel.
“What’s the plan?” She crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the zing that ran straight to her core when she brushed her nipples. Didn’t matter there was a shirt and binding around them. They were ultra-sensitive.
“Wait until morning. Leave by midday if none of Helldrick’s men show.” Zaxe retrieved one of the washbowls and set it in front of the door. If someone opened it, they’d strike it, making a noise. Simple but effective.
“Do you think Qasim is telling the truth about that?” It had occurred to her that the wily old man might have his own agenda. She hated to think he’d betray them, but it was a possibility.
Zaxe shrugged. “Maybe.”
She lowered her hood and dragged her fingers over her braids. The food and dance had given her some energy, but exhaustion had caught up to her and was making it difficult to think straight. “Surely you’ve got more than that. Do you think he sent someone to warn Helldrick or to bring him here?”
“Doesn’t matter as long as I find him.” Zaxe lowered himself to the floor, back to the wall, legs out in front of him, looking for all the world like a man totally relaxed.
“And kill him. That’s the mission, right?” Why was she being so bitchy? She rubbed her hand over her face and smothered a yawn. He’d been upfront with her from the beginning.
“That’s always been the mission.” His reasonable tone made her want to kick him.
She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. “I know.” She had to get it together. The last thing she needed was him deciding she was too much trouble and possibly slipping away on his own. “I’m worried about my brother.”
“Tell me about him.”
Jamaeh sat back. “What do you want to know?”
“Is he like Helldrick?”
“He’s nothing like Helldrick,” she snapped.
“You’re his sister. You might not be the best judge of that.”
She catapulted from the chair and stalked across the room to stand over him. He cocked a brow, but other than that,