“I thought it was to improve my peripheral vision.”
“When you do that, it helps with the other things. Vision is a big part of balance and knowing where you are in the world.”
Maybe Syla should have sighed and felt defeated by the idea, since she couldn’t remember a time when she’d had sharp vision, but she found herself smiling and clasped Vorik’s hand. This was a safe topic. It didn’t involve being subtly interrogated for Kingdom intelligence. She enjoyed speaking with him about nothing of importance.
“Here’s a tip,” he offered, pantomiming juggling with his free hand. “Wait until you’re home, and stand in front of your bed when you practice so you don’t have to bend as far to pick up the balls.”
“That sounds more practical than trying to learn from a dragon’s back.”
“Likely so. I can say from experience that if you drop a ball—if you dropanything—your dragon is unlikely to turn around and dive down to get it. I lost my water gourd once and asked Agrevlari to fetch it. He turned, dove, and incinerated it, then said dragons don’tfetch.”
“Wreylith’s reaction would be similar.” Syla recalled the newspaper she’d been attempting to read.
“She might incinerate you as well as the water bottle.”
“A distinct possibility.” Without conscious thought, Syla found herself walking more closely to Vorik, her hip brushing his. “I doubt I’d be able to learn to juggle, regardless, without an instructor.”
He squeezed her hand, his clasp gentle and warm. “Are you inviting me to visit you at the castle to provide tutelage?”
“I wish I could.”
“The flowers smell so good,” Teyla said from behind them.
Reminded that they weren’t alone—Fel, in particular, would have comments later about the hand clasp—Syla released Vorik and looked back.
Teyla had paused to lean close to smell one of the orange flowers, careful not to brush the thorns.
Movement among the cactuses to the left made Vorik and Fel start to lift their weapons. The oversized rabbits they spotted had huge ears and… were those fangs? Maybe everything out here had fangs or thorns. Nearly waist-high, the rabbits were moving together between a clump of cactus.
Despite their size, they didn’t appear threatening. They were not only moving, Syla realized, but busy engaging in… erm. She looked away to give them their privacy, not that the furry creatures cared.
“That’s a brave thing to partake in while surrounded by thorns,” Vorik said with amusement.
“Maybe they find it adds stimulation,” Syla waved that she would continue on to the pillar.
They’d drawn close enough that she could make out runes carved into the side, as Igliana had said. Was this the place where her moon-mark would be required? Would a secret door open in the floor of the canyon?
“Wouldyoufind thorns embedding themselves in your naked backside stimulating?” Vorik smiled, letting his gaze shift toherbackside.
Warmth flushed Syla’s body, and she had the urge to shift to give him a better view. But sex wasnota priority now, especially not with Teyla and Fel right behind them on the path.
Actually, they’d fallen back, Teyla still considering that flower and Fel lingering as he gazed about for threats that might creep up on them.
“No,” Syla said. “You’d have to pull them out for me.”
Vorik’s eyebrows rose, and a smile curved his lips. “With a gentle caress? While running my calloused hands lightly over your bare flesh?”
His eyes grew more heated, the smile fading as he likely imagined the scenario. Syla caughtherselfimagining the scenario, her libido coming to life, her body tingling in anticipation.
“While curling my fingers around the inside of your thigh,” he continued, his voice husky now as his gaze grew molten, “I’d enjoy your tender warmth, stirring your pleasure with my touch, sliding my finger up into?—”
“Vorik.” Syla planted a hand on his chest, half embarrassed that he was speaking of such things and half turned on. Again, she glanced back, certain she would find Teyla and Fel gawking at them.
But neither was paying attention in the least. Though Fel still had his mace in hand, lest the randy rabbits turn threatening—or a more serious predator dared to sneak past the dragons and approach—he had shifted closer to Teyla, almost brushingherbackside as she bent over. She’d opened her pack and pulled out a magnifying glass to further examine the flower. What could bethatfascinating about it? She must have been wondering if she’dread about it in an archaeology book that covered ancient desert cultures.
Vorik rested his hand over Syla’s, his warm palm as calloused as he’d described, thanks to all the hours of sword practice that he had to put in. She immediately imagined his fingers brushing over her bare skin, just as he’d said, and then sliding into her depths to stimulate her, to pleasure her as he had in the wheelhouse.
That moment—and Wreylith’s commentary on it—made Syla look up, reminded that the dragons were also potential witnesses.
