Page 64 of Red Dragon
Agrevlari shifted his weight, and a few pieces of the wooden ceiling clunked to the floor behind them. A reminder of all the potential eavesdroppers.
Sighing, Syla leaned back. Disappointment flashed in Vorik’s eyes. She held up a finger, recalling that she’d brought something for him. Maybe that would make her choice feel like less of a rejection.
She slipped away long enough to grab her pack from the corner of the wheelhouse. Fortunately, it hadn’t been disturbed during the battle. She fished out the paper bags of cookies she’d gotten from the children, then returned to stand close, facing him.
“A small gift for you,” she said.
His eyebrows rose as he accepted the bags and peered inside, nostrils twitching. “Baked goods?”
“Yes. I received them as barter in exchange for healing someone this morning. I’ve not tried them, but I hope they’ll be delicious and that you’ll enjoy them.”
“Excellent.” Vorik turned toward his own pack, as if he might tuck them away for later, but he paused to delve into one of the bags and break off a piece of a cookie. Without hesitation, he popped it into his mouth and chewed.
Though Aunt Tibby had tried to talk Syla into poisoning a blackberry cobbler that she’d made for Vorik, and she was positive he’d heard at least some of that discussion, he neverhesitated to consume anything she handed him. That he trusted her that much was surprising. And it touched her. Heshouldn’thave trusted her, but maybe… Well, considering how little time they’d actually spent together, he seemed to know her well. He didn’t assume she wasn’t dangerous—surprisingly—but he knew she wasn’t dangerous to him.
The broad smile that sprawled across his face as he chewed, his eyes rolling, was achingly handsome.Hewas achingly handsome, and she longed to reach out and run her fingers along his jaw.
“It’s delicious. Blissful. So sweet but also the chunks of… what is this called? These pieces are sweet but rich with the fat of… not an animal.”
“Those are chocolate chunks, I believe. They’re made using milk from cows and roasted cacao beans that come from our southernmost island, the same place we get our bananas, coconuts, and coffee beans.”
“So amazing. There’s nothing like this out there that I’ve foraged.”
“Well, we process it to turn it into a sweet. The natural beans themselves aren’t very… uhm.” She’d grown distracted by Vorik licking his fingers. Memories of how he’d used that tongue to lickhersprang to mind, and her cheeks heated. Her entire body threatened to heat.
Oblivious, he raised his eyebrows and lowered his hand.
“I wish I had a gift for you.” He gazed contemplatively at her.
For some reason, the heat intensified. Was it possible he was thinking ofintimategifts he might give?
The mission, she reminded herself, was more important than gifts, intimate or otherwise. Besides, this wasn’t a very private spot.
“You could give me the gift of telling me what your general has ordered you to do.” Syla looked into his eyes, willing himto feel enough for her that he would share his people’s secrets, at least those that endangeredherpeople. But that wouldn’t be any more honorable than what they’d just spoken about, and she wasn’t surprised when he shook his head. The sadness that lingered in his smile suggested he did regret that he couldn’t accede to her wishes.
“I can’t do that,” Vorik said, “unless you’d like to come with me? I know you’re not exaggerating when you speak of all those who want you dead. As unfair as it is, your existence must be interfering with the plans of many.”
“I healed General Dolok of a plethora of injuries, and he’sstillagainst me.”
Syla didn’t want to whine, but, as she’d told him, everyonewasafter her, and it was frustrating. She’d healed a man, and her reward was assassins on her trail.
His eyes narrowed contemplatively, as if he might visit the general with a dagger. If only Sylacouldsend Vorik to deal with her enemies.
“Is he the one who was behind this?” Vorik waved toward where the body had been.
“I don’t know. There are others, as well, who aspire to rule the Garden Kingdom.”
Many others. Syla shook her head bleakly.
Vorik brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “If you come with me, I can keep you safe.”
Was that a genuine offer? She couldn’t go, of course, but she wished she could.
“Your people want me dead too,” Syla said. “Especially Captain Lesva, apparently. Since I had the gall tonotspew my secrets when she tortured me.”
“You did have gall.” The brush turned into a caress that sent tingles to her core. “You were magnificent.”
Her nerves sang from his touch, his words, and the warmth of his smile and approval in his eyes. He leaned back enough to look her up and down, longing in his gaze, and it heated her as much as his touch. By the molten core of the earth god, she wanted to workwithhim, not against him. She wanted?—
