Dance With the Enemy by Linda Boulanger

Master Daruh.”
    “Daruh! What business does he have here?” He looked at Elenya, a vision of her clinging to the Master’s legs flashing into his mind. That’s what he wanted.
    Elenya cried out as his hand clamped even tighter around hers.
    “Send Nema to my quarters,” he barked at the runner. “Tell her to be quick.”
    “Your corisan has already been dispatched…”
    “I said to send Nema!” Tahruk bellowed.
    “Yes, my lord,” the young man called to the swiftly moving couple before beginning his own journey in another direction.
    Tahruk didn’t slow down when Elenya stumbled, tripping after an attempt to look back at the runner.
    “You will do well not to allow your eyes to wander.” He kept her upright with a hand slipped hastily around her waist and met her scowl.
    “And you shall do well not to assume nor accuse falsely!” She broke away, beating him to his quarters by only two or three steps, enough to have completely missed the surprised smile that lifted the corners of his full lips.
    Nema was right. This sometimes docile woman-child had a spunk that enticed him beyond the pull of the marking. In that, the Masters had chosen well for him. Perhaps her spirit would help maintain his interest once his responsibilities were fulfilled.
    She turned to him at the door and he caught her jaw between his fingers and thumb. “I think it is you who must not forget who you are, Little One. Regardless of whether our bodies have yet to become one, you carry my blood. You are mine already!”
    “Is that how you treat your belongings? Unhand the lass, young master, lest she grow fearful of you. She is not your enemy.”
    Elenya’s brows shot up when Nema’s words cut through their moment. She reached for his hand, pulling it from her face where it fell hard against her chest. Her heart beat fast against his palm.
    “Is that the feel of your enemy, my lord?” She shook her head.” “How can that be if we truly are one?”
    Tahruk scowled down at her, his emotions fluctuating between anger and lust. His jaw tightened, causing his cheek to twitch. Her eyes unlocked from his, going to his cheek, then to his lips and back. Even his drawn brows and thinned lips did not cause her to flinch this time. Instead she pressed his hand tighter and moved closer to him. Her face remained turned up to his.
    Nema cleared her throat. “Your father, my lord.”
    The corners of Elenya’s lips twitched. The fire burning bright in her eyes.
    “Vixen!” he growled at her, taking a kiss before he pushed her away. “Prepare her, Nema. I’m sure we have little time.”
    “In that you are correct, my lord.” The older woman nodded her head at the flustered young man before taking the hand of the equally muddled maiden.

 
    Chapter 10

     
    Elenya frowned at her own behavior. She was becoming someone even she didn’t recognize, her feelings intensified by the increased tension that seemed prevalent since the master’s return to the house. There was an edginess that crept in whenever he was mentioned, especially when coupled with her name and their impending meeting. Could he be that bad? Surely he could be no worse than his son.
    The thought of Tahruk’s mother and her sweet countenance brought a smile. If her husband was the ogre these people’s actions led her to believe he might be, surely the woman’s nature would not have been so genteel. She hadn’t seemed overly affected when his return was discussed during the noonday meal. Even Nema chuckled a bit when she talked about the old bear .
    “Your belongings have arrived, miss,” Nema told her before directing her down an unknown hallway. “Let’s get you into a dress more fitting the occasion, shall we?”
    Elenya glanced down at the silk gown she was wearing. She had fine dresses, though Aleone’s finest obviously didn’t compare to that of Zanak. She bit at her lower lip wondering how to explain that the dress she wore was as lovely as any she’d ever