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over the endless landscape that made up this planet. She needed it right now. More than anything else,
she needed that.
And Tristan understood.
"Great. Tilly will bring up a light breakfast tray for you. There are riding clothes in the closet that should
fit you."
Without another word, Tristan turned and left her room, closing the door quietly behind him.
A few minutes later, a soft knock sounded at her door.
"Come in."
Tillie walked in with her breakfast tray and set it on the table.
"Good morning, prin-uh-Sa Rah," the housekeeper said correcting herself with a cheery smile and shake
of her head. "It s hard for me to remember you like to be called by your given name. Did you sleep
well?"
"Yes, thank you, Tilly. And thanks for the tray."
"You re welcome. Just make sure you eat enough. Eboraf riding can take a lot out of you, so you ll need
your energy. I ll be back in a bit to take you to the stables."
"You don t need to do that, Tilly. I m sure I can find my way."
"No, Sa Rah. This house is so big that many who haven t been here before have gotten lost in it. Until
you learn your way around, I don t mind helping you. Now just eat a good breakfast, and I ll return in
one hour," Tilly insisted in a very motherly no nonsense way.
Sa Rah wanted to argue, but she realized that it just wasn t worth it. If Tillie wanted to walk her out to
the stables, she would let her. Either way, she was going riding. That was the most important thing. As
soon as the housekeeper left, she ate every bit of the food on her tray. After cleaning up, she found a
riding outfit in the closet and dressed.
It was time to ride.
Chapter 14
Rachel slowly floated back to reality.
Zerik lay against her back on the bed, spoon fashion. His face was buried in her hair and she felt his
warm breath against her neck as he breathed deeply. His arms were wrapped around her waist, and one
leg lay over hers. His hand covered her bare stomach, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin.
It was heaven.
Rachel didn t want to move. She didn t want Zerik to know she was awake. The moment was so
perfect. She felt so safe. So cherished.
It felt just, well, just so right.
"I was wondering when you would awaken," he said softly as he continued to nuzzle her hair. "Did you
know that your hair reminds me of fire? A vibrant, living, flowing flame. It draws me to you. It s so
beautiful, just as you are, Rachel."
Rachel didn t know what to say. Tears formed in her eyes. What was happening to her? This gentle
man, this assassin, this gruff warrior, this poet, was turning her inside out. Who was he really, and why
did he make her feel this way?
She didn t have time to ponder it. Zerik pulled away from her and she immediately felt the loss. A chill
filled the space he left behind. It was then that she realized her pants were still around her ankles. How
embarrassing! She flipped onto her back and scrambled to pull them up.
Zerik chuckled softly.
Sitting up she glared at him.
"What s so funny?" she demanded.
"I was just thinking about how much I enjoy looking at your body, and how quick you are to cover it
up."
"Why is that so funny?"
"Because if you knew what sensual images and ideas your body inspires in me, you would probably pull
your clothes on even faster."
Rachel felt a blush creep up her cheeks. A blush! She was fifty-three years old, yet this man had the
ability to make her blush. How was that possible? She couldn t remember the last time she blushed. She
didn t like it. She didn t want someone to have that kind of power over her. Not again.
Her eyes narrowed and she raked her gaze over him.
"How old are you?"
Zerik seemed surprised by her question.
"In your Earth years, I am 45 years old. Why do you ask?"
"Do you know how old I am?"
As if sensing the direction the conversation was going, Zerik s own eyes narrowed.
"I would estimate we are about the same age, Rachel. Why are you asking such things?"
Rachel squared her shoulders and raised her chin proudly. She needed to set things right. Before it went
any farther. He needed to know what the situation really was.
"We are not the same age. I am 53 years old, Zerik. Much older than you. Too old for you. This thing
between us isn t right. Do you understand?"
Anger ignited in Zerik s intense green eyes.
"No, I don t understand. You are older than I. What does that matter, little flame?"
Rachel was speechless for a minute. What did it matter? Well, didn t it matter to him? Shouldn t it matter
to him? After all, in ten years, she d be sixty-three, and he d only be fifty-five. He was still so youthful
and vigorous. She stayed active, trying to keep in shape and as healthy as possible. But eight years
difference was so much. It wasn t two or three. It was eight. Between an older man and younger woman
this might be considered acceptable, but not the other way around. It couldn t work, could it?
Rachel shook her head to clear it. What was she thinking anyway? It wasn t as if she were going to
marry the man. He was an assassin. And he wasn t even from her planet, let alone her country. Plus he
was from the future. A relationship couldn t get much more cross-cultural than that. It was improbable
and impossible that there could be anything more between them than here and now.
So why not take advantage of the situation and enjoy it? The little voice in her head whispered. But
could she do it? Could she just enjoy this man, regardless of her age and everything else going on around
them? Could she just have a good time until they found Honey, then go home with her friend and never
see Zerik again? It could work. She was a mature woman. She would be able to handle it, wouldn t she?
Yes. That s what she would do. Just enjoy the moment and the man. And when the time came to help
Honey and say goodbye to him, she would do it. She could handle it. Ignoring the little voice inside that
told her she was fooling herself, Rachel plastered a light smile on her face and faced Zerik.
"You re right. It doesn t matter."
Instead of looking satisfied by her reply, Zerik eyed her warily.
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