He hesitated, and she was pleased to see him break into a broad smile after taking his time to view the place.
“It’s lovely and it fits you perfectly.”
“Another compliment,” she sighed. “I will certainly miss them when you leave us.”
His smile faltered briefly though he reclaimed it as easily as he had his stumbled steps. She wondered over his strange reaction and her own sudden apprehension over his inevitable departure, for she didn’t want to think of when he would leave. She enjoyed his company and certainly his compliments pleased her, but how odd? She knew him only a day, though it felt much longer.
Once inside, Zia showed him where he would stay. “It’s a small room but adequate for your needs, a soft bed with fresh linens and a chest if you wish to store any of your things.”
Artair looked it over, his glance going from the small room to her bed and the slim curtain that separated the two rooms.
She smiled and settled his unspoken query. “The room is used for someone who needs constant care.”
“Will you care for me?”
His question didn’t surprise her as much as the seriousness of his tone. He sounded as if he actually meant it rather than that he simply teased her.
She thought to tell him that if ever he needed caring, she would tend him, but instead she simply answered, “Yes.”
“I am pleased to know that,” he said.
His gentle smile sent quivers through her, while making him appear all the more handsome. It was hard not to stare at him, drink in his beauty and melt in his dark eyes. She wondered if Artair knew how he affected women. She had seen it for herself from when he first rode into the village and saved her.
Even amidst the chaos, there wasn’t a woman who could keep her eyes off him. Even here in her own village she had seen the way the women’s eyes followed him, though she knew the women here simply appreciated his handsome features, since most were in happy union s.
So far from what she knew of him he didn’t seem enthralled with himself, but rather a warrior of fine standing and a man determined to find his brother.
“You will want to give John a message to take to your brother,” she said. “Then if you like, I will show you around the village.”
He nodded. “Thank you, but I am not keeping you from your duties, am I?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Then I would be pleased to have you show me around.”
Zia took a few moments for herself while Artair went to deliver his message to John and see him safely on his way. She quickly freshened herself in the stream behind her cottage and slipped into clean clothes, a lovely buttery colored skirt and pale yellow blouse, sandals, the strips adorned with smooth pebbles, graced her feet. And she could do nothing with her short hair but run her fingers through it and let it have its way.
She finished with a quick dab of rose water around her neck, in the crevices of her arms and around her wrist. She sighed once done, feeling her old self.
A gentle knock had her swinging the door open and once again she found herself catching her breath at the sight of Artair. But she didn’t admonish herself, she told herself to enjoy every palpitation and flutter. It was the way of things, the way of life, and she loved every minute of living it.
“You are beautiful,” he said.
His remark was said so simply and yet so profoundly, her joy soared. Stepping out of the cottage, she wrapped her arm around his, moved in close beside him and said, “I will never tire of your compliments.”
They walked off, Zia taking delight in showing him the village while inwardly more focused on the sensation of his muscled arm and the feel of his taut thigh when she accidentally brushed against him. He exuded strength, she could feel it, and it tingled her flesh.
They lingered by a weathered fence, beyond which grew an abundance of crops.
“Your village thrives considerably,” he said. “And in everything I have seen.”
“We all work together to see that it does.”
“Then you all work very hard, yet none of you seem to struggle. I am impressed,” he said. “It seems that you and your grandmother keep everyone and everything healthy.”
“We all do our share,” she insisted, not willing to take the credit when it belonged to all in the village.
A bell rang out.
“I am needed. Feel free to wander about,” she said, and with urgency took off.
Artair had seen enough to know the village Black possessed a powerful pride in their land and themselves. A common goal always united people, and these people obviously shared a common goal.
However, he was curious how the village Black came into existence. It wasn’t a place you would stumble upon. Unless you knew precisely where it was, one would never find it, which could explain why the people lived in peace. No one knew it was there, and with sentinels posted and the undetectable entrance, discovery, much less attack, was unlikely.