Page 7 of Borgaz

“Very well,” he agreed, and ended the communication.

“Why didn’t you tell him that I have reclaimed my farm?” Mary demanded. “Is he going to object?”

He could feel her worry in every tense muscle of her small frame but he ruthlessly suppressed his desire to offer her comfort - and other things.

“Of course not. It simply seemed more appropriate to discuss it in person.”

“You mean instead of while I was standing here?”

She crossed her arms across her chest again and despite the additional clothing, it was just as provocative a position.

“Precisely.” He hesitated. “Temel has arranged a meeting for this evening. Perhaps it would be best if you attended as well to present your claim.”

“It’s not a claim. It’s a fact.”

“Your friend will be there as well.”

Her expression finally softened.

“Rosie? I do want to see her, but…”

She looked around the kitchen again and he could easily read the thoughts crossing her expressive little face.

“I will help you finish your cleaning so the house is more… suitable when you return.”

Although he would do everything he could to persuade her to remain at the main house instead of returning to this unsuitable dwelling.

Her chin lifted again.

“That’s not necessary.”

“Would you prefer that I simply remove you from the premises until it has been rendered safe?”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“I most certainly would.” He leaned down until his eyes were level with hers. Her lips parted, impossibly tempting, but he needed to make his position clear. “Make no mistake, littlefojii, I will not allow you to endanger yourself under any circumstances. Do you understand?”

Small white teeth clamped down on plump lower lip, but she nodded. Satisfied, he straightened, letting his tail curve briefly around her waist as he did.

“Now. Shall we work together or shall I take you straight back to the main house?”

He told himself that he did not find her frustrated glare entirely too adorable.

“Fine,” she finally snapped. “I’ll start in the bedroom.”

“I will finish in here and then assist you.”

“I don’t suppose it would do any good to say I don’t need your assistance?”

“No.”

“You should have been named Bossy instead of Borgaz,” she muttered as she turned to march out of the kitchen.

Bossy? A smile curved his lips as he translated the word.

“I have no objection to being in charge of you.”

Before she could react, he turned back to the sink.

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