towards him. “For three months now, Errol Magnus, I’ve done almost everything womanly possible to get your attention. I’ve done and scented my hair for you, baked you sweets, worn my prettiest dresses.”
She stopped in front of him, looking him directly in the eye before continuing. “And I was happy to do it – would have kept on doing it – when I thought there was a chance for us. But I won’t fight for a man who doesn’t want me.”
She reached up a hand to pull a hairpin out of her tresses. She moved her hands through it and her locks came cascading down about her shoulders. Errol thought she was gorgeous enough to rival even Samara’s unnatural beauty.
“Now,” she said, putting her hands around his neck, “kiss me.”
“What?” It was the first thing Errol had managed to say since Gale began speaking. “What?”
“With everything that I’ve done to make you notice me, I won’t have it said that I did all that for nothing, that I never even got so much as a peck on the cheek. So you are going to kiss me. Now .”
Before Errol could offer an objection, she leaned in and kissed him. Her lips were soft and yielding, playfully inviting. She tasted delicious, an enticing blend of honeysuckle and exotic spices. Within a few seconds, he was returning the kiss more ardently than he would have believed possible.
It was Gale who, moments later, broke things off by stepping away. She took a second to catch her breath, then smoothed her dress out.
“Now,” she said, “now that I’ve retained a certain amount of dignity, you are free to pursue whomever you want, Errol Magnus.”
And with that, she haughtily turned and walked out the door, leaving a completely bewildered and befuddled Errol behind her.
Chapter 8
A few hours after Gale’s departure, Errol found himself with Mayor Sterillo, having a discussion with the leaders of the troupe – a man named Anru and his wife Miabi – at a table in a tent the troupe had set up. Anru was a big fellow, with large muscles and strong hands that bespoke of a lifetime doing a lot of heavy lifting. In fact, although getting on in years (as attested to by the iron-gray color of his hair) he still occasionally served as the strongman of their band.
His wife Miabi was a striking, dark-haired beauty. Despite over two decades of marriage and eight children, she had managed to maintain a svelte figure. Moreover, she was sensual in a way that defied explanation, and Errol found himself continually glancing at her involuntarily.
At the moment, Anru and the mayor were hashing out the boundaries within which the troupe could perform. Basically, the mayor didn’t want to give what he respectfully called a “gypsy clan” free rein to perform all over Stanchion. Mayor Sterillo wanted the entertainment venue limited to a specific geographic region.
Frankly speaking, Errol’s presence here was merely perfunctory. He cared very little about where the troupe was allowed to ply their craft. His primary concern was the extent to which they were dangerous and cheats. Glancing once more at Miabi (who, like him, was not really involved in the conversation), he was embarrassed to find her noticing his stare. She gave him a slight smile and a wink.
“Dear,” she said, interrupting something her husband was saying to the mayor, “the Warden and I don’t really need to be here for this. While you and the mayor finish your discussion, I can show him around and satisfy him that the people of Stanchion have nothing to fear from us.”
Her husband didn’t really reply, merely gave a dismissive gesture with his hand and went back to talking to the mayor.
Both Errol and Miabi stood up. Errol shook both Anru’s and the mayor’s hand, while Miabi gave her husband a kiss and waved goodbye to Mayor Sterillo. As they walked out of the tent, she lithely slid her arm into his. Errol felt an odd tingling sensation where their arms met, but ignored it to the best of his
She stopped in front of him, looking him directly in the eye before continuing. “And I was happy to do it – would have kept on doing it – when I thought there was a chance for us. But I won’t fight for a man who doesn’t want me.”
She reached up a hand to pull a hairpin out of her tresses. She moved her hands through it and her locks came cascading down about her shoulders. Errol thought she was gorgeous enough to rival even Samara’s unnatural beauty.
“Now,” she said, putting her hands around his neck, “kiss me.”
“What?” It was the first thing Errol had managed to say since Gale began speaking. “What?”
“With everything that I’ve done to make you notice me, I won’t have it said that I did all that for nothing, that I never even got so much as a peck on the cheek. So you are going to kiss me. Now .”
Before Errol could offer an objection, she leaned in and kissed him. Her lips were soft and yielding, playfully inviting. She tasted delicious, an enticing blend of honeysuckle and exotic spices. Within a few seconds, he was returning the kiss more ardently than he would have believed possible.
It was Gale who, moments later, broke things off by stepping away. She took a second to catch her breath, then smoothed her dress out.
“Now,” she said, “now that I’ve retained a certain amount of dignity, you are free to pursue whomever you want, Errol Magnus.”
And with that, she haughtily turned and walked out the door, leaving a completely bewildered and befuddled Errol behind her.
Chapter 8
A few hours after Gale’s departure, Errol found himself with Mayor Sterillo, having a discussion with the leaders of the troupe – a man named Anru and his wife Miabi – at a table in a tent the troupe had set up. Anru was a big fellow, with large muscles and strong hands that bespoke of a lifetime doing a lot of heavy lifting. In fact, although getting on in years (as attested to by the iron-gray color of his hair) he still occasionally served as the strongman of their band.
His wife Miabi was a striking, dark-haired beauty. Despite over two decades of marriage and eight children, she had managed to maintain a svelte figure. Moreover, she was sensual in a way that defied explanation, and Errol found himself continually glancing at her involuntarily.
At the moment, Anru and the mayor were hashing out the boundaries within which the troupe could perform. Basically, the mayor didn’t want to give what he respectfully called a “gypsy clan” free rein to perform all over Stanchion. Mayor Sterillo wanted the entertainment venue limited to a specific geographic region.
Frankly speaking, Errol’s presence here was merely perfunctory. He cared very little about where the troupe was allowed to ply their craft. His primary concern was the extent to which they were dangerous and cheats. Glancing once more at Miabi (who, like him, was not really involved in the conversation), he was embarrassed to find her noticing his stare. She gave him a slight smile and a wink.
“Dear,” she said, interrupting something her husband was saying to the mayor, “the Warden and I don’t really need to be here for this. While you and the mayor finish your discussion, I can show him around and satisfy him that the people of Stanchion have nothing to fear from us.”
Her husband didn’t really reply, merely gave a dismissive gesture with his hand and went back to talking to the mayor.
Both Errol and Miabi stood up. Errol shook both Anru’s and the mayor’s hand, while Miabi gave her husband a kiss and waved goodbye to Mayor Sterillo. As they walked out of the tent, she lithely slid her arm into his. Errol felt an odd tingling sensation where their arms met, but ignored it to the best of his
Similar Books
