Threads of Desire (Spellcraft) - By Stone, Eleri Page 0,1

discuss those possibilities now?”

Kal barked an order to the boy manning his booth and then took her by the elbow, guiding her through the throng of people gathered for the midweek market. They passed quickly down the main aisle, everything blurring in Ily’s eyes as she focused on the man ahead of her. Sun and shade, the bright colors of banners and scarves, the press of people on all sides. The weather today was very fine and the marketplace unusually busy. They were jostled this way and that by the crowd, but Kal never lost his grip on her arm. They turned well before they reached the food vendors, yet she could smell fragrant rice and sizzling meat in the air. Her stomach rumbled, the roar of a lion, but Kal didn’t seem to hear it. He certainly did not pause.

Peddlers called out their wares, boasting of blades that never dulled, lace as delicate as a spider’s web and spellwoven chainmail that could turn a killing blow. That irked her. You could see the lie as soon as you looked at the lace. It was very nicely made but clearly wasn’t master level work. The armor though...you wouldn’t learn the truth about that until you were staring at the blade in your belly and thinking you should have paid the extra money for guild work. She had many complaints with the guild, but none of them involved the quality of their merchandise.

Calef, the man charged with keeping the peace at the market, was ahead of them, drawing a crowd as he tried to recruit a challenger for the evening’s entertainment. There was to be a blade dance tonight and while one of the local men could often be coaxed into entering the ring when only fists were involved, few would dare face an armed opponent. If Calef was on the street now, it meant someone had backed out. It meant he’d have to bribe another to take the risk, which meant he’d increase rents to cover his loss. She could barely afford to pay him as it was.

Avoiding the crowd, they slipped behind a pair of brightly colored tents and out of the press of the market. It was quiet here in the small space between the merchant tents and the wall formed by the warehouse buildings behind them.

Kal continued along the packed-dirt street for a ways—no cobbles on this side of town—before pulling her down a crooked alley. She could have stretched her arms out and touched the sandstone buildings that rose up to either side. He stopped as soon as the shadows closed around them and pressed her back to the wall, bracing himself with one hand beside her head.

His eyes fixed for a moment on her mouth. “Your proposition?”

She smiled thinly, looking down the refuse-strewn alley. “Is this where you usually conduct business?”

“No.”

Something within her threatened to collapse beneath his hot gaze. But another part of her rose to the challenge of negotiating with him, to the possibility of winning. His body was rigid with anticipation, every hard muscle taut and expectant.

“I don’t want a business partner,” she said.

“No?” His free hand settled on her hip. “A different kind of partnership then?”

She didn’t answer, just held his gaze, knowing he understood completely, wondering if he’d make her speak the words. His fingers flexed, testing her flesh, sliding upward to the curve of her waist. “What game are you playing, lovely?”

As if she’d answer such a stupid question.

“You’re not a whore.”

“No.” But she needed money. If she ever wanted to leave this place and this life, she needed every sliver of gold she could get her hands on. And Kal...as ambivalent as she felt about him personally, on a physical level, she was powerfully attracted to him. He was rich and he wanted her. She wanted him, much more than she liked to admit. She was sick to death of being stepped on and used, trapped here in Lasura with so little hope of escape. If she was clever and very bold, maybe, just maybe, she could use him instead.

He muttered something under his breath and then said, “Roll out your carpet.”

She glanced at the bundle wedged beneath her arm and shook her head. “I don’t want it to get dirty.”

He laughed, gently prying the roll from her hands and propping it up against the wall. He turned her suddenly and fit his long body to her back. His heat covered her. Breath stirred the hair above her