Dragon Lords 4-Warrior Prince (9 page)

He turned to her. Pia froze at his hard look.

Boldly, he shouted, "Fire!"

Pia jerked at the sudden sound. The fireplace lit and the beautiful gown that she suddenly wished she’d saved went up in flames. She gasped. His eyes roamed over her short hair in what she took as a look of disgust. It would seem her hair was the only thing pleasing he had found about her. With it gone he couldn’t bring himself to want his ugly wife.

Zoran studied her face. No matter what she did to herself, she would never be able to hide her beauty from him. It was in her hazel eyes, her steady gaze. It was in the fiery way she challenged him with words and her luscious body. He wanted her even more, now that she continued to defy him. It was strange that his passions could be ignited to such scorching depths by her disobedience and blatant insubordination.

Confused, Zoran turned his back on her, as he headed to the bedroom. "I’m taking a bath and going to bed. I have to get up early tomorrow to go to work."

"But, you just got off."

Zoran glanced over his shoulder and said, "I should think you would be pleased to be rid of me."

He disappeared into the bedroom.

"I am!" she yelled belatedly.

Zoran came back out holding a robe in one hand and a blanket and pillow in the other. Pushing the blanket and pillow at her with barely a glance, he said, "If you have no wish to share my bed, then you will find somewhere else to sleep. Might I suggest the couch? The fire seems to be burning quite bright as of now."

Pia gasped as he went into the bathroom and shut the door. Seconds later, she was still standing there as she heard him step into the natural hot spring. A loud moan escaped him and she would’ve sworn he did it just to irritate her.

Looking at the couch set before the marble fireplace, she threw the pillow angrily onto its cushioned red depths. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and sat down. A pout formed on her face without her realizing it, as she stared at the burning gown, watching the last of the red dragon disappear into ash.

Chapter Six

Zoran was up with the dawn. His wife had spent the entire night on the couch. Although he wasn’t surprised, he was disappointed, as was his body that dreamt of her defiantly naked form in a myriad of different, lecherous ways.

"Faster!" Zoran yelled, pushing the men through the waist deep swamp mud. He’d decided that one day of grueling exercise wasn’t enough to purge him. Lifting his sword arm high into the air, he motioned to the side. Instantly, the men ducked down and began crawling through the muck. It was slow going in this part of the swamplands. The mud weighted their human forms down and kept them from moving with precise speed.

"Attack position!" Zoran commanded.

The men hollered, shooting up from the swamp. Muck flew everywhere as their dirty swords lifted high in the air.

"Attack!" he shouted with a growl.

Zoran watched as the warriors plunged forward as fast as they could. The target, a battalion Zoran had ordered hidden within the trees, suddenly emerged to fight the muddy swarm. Metal clanged against metal as the heavily muddied hoard fought the outnumbered men.

Zoran hung back, watching the outcome of the fight. He crossed his arms over his chest, picking out the victors of the battle. The victors would get to go back early. The losers would have to spend three extra hours with him doing swamp drills.

Zoran thought suddenly of Pia and frowned. Maybe he’d better make it five extra hours.

* * * *

"Ugh!" Pia gasped, eyeing Zoran as he came in. He was covered in a grayish-brown muck and stunk to high heaven. She wrinkled her nose.

Zoran said nothing as he slipped out of his boots and left them by the door.

"What do they have you guarding anyway? A sewer?" she asked, waving her hand in his general direction as if it could keep the smell at bay.

"I spent the day in the swamps," Zoran said, rolling his neck.

"Oh." Pia wished he would elaborate. She’d just spent the entire day trapped in his house with nothing to do. She’d done a freestyle workout, taken a bath, and ate some leftover rice looking stuff from the refrigerator. That had use up about three of the twelve hours since she woke up.

Zoran eyed her tanned features. She’d pulled her hair back into a small ponytail at the nape of her neck and the sides fell forward to frame her face. As he watched her, she tucked the sides behind her ears.

Zoran was weary from the two grueling days, though he was much better off than the men were. He’d have to reward them with a lighter workout tomorrow morning. He should give them a day of rest, but he needed an excuse to leave the house. He couldn’t sit in her cold presence for a day and not strangle her.

"I ate the rice in the refrigerator," she said at last, when he didn’t look away.

"Fine," he grunted, heading barefoot toward the bathroom to clean up.

Pia gasped, seeing his arm. It was bleeding. Looking for any kind of adventure, even a second hand one, she jumped over the back of the couch and went to him. "Did something happen? Was there an attack?"

"Just an accident," Zoran said, wondering at her sudden concern. He didn’t miss the light of excitement in her hazel gaze when she asked it. She eyed his blood with almost a longing.

"What happened? Was anyone hurt?"

It was as he’d said. It was an accident. One of the men lost his footing on a high perch. When Zoran caught him, the man’s knife had nicked his shoulder.

"No," he answered.

"Oh." Pia bit her lip. Suddenly, she realized she was standing close to him and he really did reek like putrid swamp. She took a step back. "Maybe you should take a shower."

"I had planned on it," Zoran chuckled, despite himself. He couldn’t help teasing, "Is your inquisition over then, my bloodthirsty wife?"

Pia frowned. "Well, what do you expect? You trapped me in this house all day with nothing to do. That," she pointed at the front door, "contraption won’t let me pass no matter how many different languages I yell at it."

"That’s because it’s not programmed to your voice," Zoran answered quietly. Honestly, in his ire, he’d forgotten about her being stuck in the house all day.

"Obviously," she said sarcastically, crossing her hands over her chest with a sigh.

The motion pushed up her breasts and Zoran, being a healthy man of recently denied passions, looked unabashedly at them. Pia glanced back around to him. Seeing his heated gaze, she screamed and automatically moved to slap him.

Zoran caught her hand in his muddied grip. Her wrist slid along his palm. His eyes lit with promise.

Pia tried to slap him with her other hand. He caught that one too.

"Come bathe with me," Zoran invited. His tone dipped as he made a show of ogling her breasts. There was nothing she could do to stop him.

"I already had a bath," Pia said, wishing her voice were more forceful. "I don’t need another."

At that, Zoran smiled. Pulling her forward into his arms, he crushed himself to her cotton pants and white T-shirt. Mud plastered their clothing together as if they wore nothing at all. Pia shrieked in dismay. Her eyes narrowed angrily.

"You need one now," Zoran said, leaning down to catch her lips with his. She turned her head and he hit her cheek with his mouth. He pulled back disappointed. "One kiss, wife, and I promise to let you go."

"Let me go and I promise not to beat the ever-living sh--" Pia’s gaze shot daggers, but her words were cut off with his swift mouth. He pressed his lips firmly to hers in a dry kiss. She froze, wide-eyed, not knowing what to do. As suddenly as he began the kiss, he ended it with a loud smack of his lips to hers. Zoran let her go, seeming very pleased with himself.

"Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?" he mocked.

"You’re right," she answered carefully. She made a great show of looking him over before wrinkling her nose in disgust. "It was nothing at all."

Zoran’s grin turned sour. "Well, as long as I have no effect on you, you should have no problem helping me out of these clothes."

Pia saw the challenge. He was daring her to run away in fear. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

"No problem at all," she tossed back lightly, turning to walk into the bathroom first. "It’s not like looking at you would do anything to me anyway."

"Oh," he said, following her. "Then you wouldn’t mind helping me wash up, would you? I couldn’t tell how deep my cut was. It may need to be bandaged."

Pia wasn’t so quick to respond.

"No," she squeaked at last. "No problem at all. It will be like washing the dishes."

"Good."

"Fine."

"Fine," he mimicked, his voice dipping ever so slightly.

Pia’s jaw stiffened, as she ground out, "I’ll start the shower."

"Fine," Zoran repeated. When she turned her back on him, he just grinned.

"Ah...?" Pia looked at the shower for a handle. There was none. She looked for a spout. There wasn’t one of those either.

"Here," Zoran said from behind her. He came close to her back and waved his hand in front of one of the tiles. It read his palm and automatically went to his preference settings.

Pia watched as little doors opened in some of the tiles. Water sprayed out at waist level and at shoulder level. One spout came down from the ceiling and rained softly overhead.

"Would you mind helping me with my shirt?" Zoran asked, his tone sultry.

Pia lifted her jaw. She couldn’t force herself to do it.

"You should get in just like that," she said. "That way you can rinse most of the smell off your clothes. Besides, that blood looks dry and if I rip it off of there, it might start bleeding again."

Zoran smiled, knowing that she was stalling. Stepping into the shower, he let the warm water hit over him without shutting the door. He turned around to look at her and placed his hands on either side of the shower. There was enough room for her to join him.

"What about your clothes?" he asked, his accent rolling thick over her. She shivered. He directed a pointed look at her white shirt. It was stained from where he’d touched her with his chest. When she hesitated, he mocked, "You’re not scared of me, are you?"

"No," Pia said with a feminine gasp. She boldly stepped in before him.

Zoran’s eyes lit with delight when he saw what the water did to her white shirt. Of course, he was too much of a gentleman to point it out to her. He hid his smirk.

Leaning forward, he purposefully came close to her as he leaned to pull the door shut behind her. Pia jolted at the sound.

How did I get myself into this? she thought, briefly closing her eyes.

"Are you all right?" Zoran asked, seeing her sway lightly on her feet.

"It’s just this stuff smells awful," she lied. In truth, it was the way the water made his clothing cling to his muscular flesh that made her nearly swoon. The material adhered to his every muscular curve, lifting and shifting with each breath he took. Scowling at him, she commanded, "Move, let me rinse off."

Zoran was only too happy to comply, as he sat down on the stone bench in the corner. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest.

Pia turned her back to him. She had no idea how the wet material of her pants clung to her backside, outlining every lush curve, or else she’d never have done it. She pulled out her shirt, letting the stream of water beat against it until all the mud was gone, leaving a faint stain. Then turning, she took out her hair and leaned back to get it wet, raising her hands to push the shorter locks from her face.

Zoran’s body tensed. It was clear she had no idea how the thin shirt was displaying her naked chest underneath. When her hands lifted to her head, it pushed her breast up and out. Her darker nipples shone through the transparent barrier. His fingers twitched. His shaft became achingly erect.

He knew she’d scream if he touched her, but he wondered what she’d do if he touched himself. The water hit upon her flesh. He blinked, his mouth suddenly dry. Her darker nipples budded against her wet, clinging shirt--hard, erotic. His mouth bit at the air, almost tempted to....

"What are you doing?" Pia demanded. Her wide eyes had found his and she was staring at him like he had just developed boils.

"My jaw hurts," he lied, reaching up to rub his chin as he flexed. "I got punched."

"Punched?"

"There’s nothing to tell, so retract your fangs my bloodthirsty ruffian," Zoran mused. Gently, he added, "Now move so I can rinse off."

Pia stepped aside. She eyed his sleeve. "Here, try to lift your arm."

Zoran watched her, as her tone became most business like. She worked her hand beneath his sleeve, the fingers gliding over the ridges of his muscles as she lifted the material carefully up from the wound. Zoran thought with wonder that she had an amazingly delicate touch for someone with such a wicked right hook.

"There," she murmured, pulling it free. "Lift up."

Zoran lifted his arms, letting her work his tunic off his chest. He tossed it outside the shower stall. She leaned to the side, taking his rigid bicep and moving it to the water to rinse it off.

Probing the wound with her fingertip, Pia said more to herself than to him, "It’s not so bad. I’ve had much worse."

Zoran’s injured arm flexed beneath her hand as he moved to touch her face. His broad shoulders dwarfed her in size.

Pia looked up at him, momentarily surprised by the contact. The large shower didn’t seem so big with him looming close to her. She swallowed nervously.

Zoran drew his hand down to the bottom of her shirt. His eyes narrowed slightly. He longed to see her, to touch her, to drink the water off her parted lips. Lifting the edge of her shirt, he kept his gaze steady.

Lightly, his fingers spread across her stomach to her side. He found the long, jagged scar puckered by her ribs.

"Like this one?" he murmured. His tone was so close, so intimate.

Pia blinked, transfixed by him. Leaning forward, he gently kissed her. He slid his fingers along her long scar, moving up one side of it and down the other.