Page 19 of The Forsaken
The planks, sticky from drink and blood, muffled the staccato tap of Andromena’s heels as they walked. The same could not be said for the bawdy music in the background.
“They stripped to the waist hot work, hot weather
he lit her fire, and she made him blow…”
He leaned down to ask the necessary question quietly at her side. “What in hell are you doing here?”
“It is hard to explain.”
“Try,” he snapped.
“No.”
The bawdy music intensified.
Kerr lashed out in French.
“J’ai passé une soirée des plus agréables… une bouteille entière de cognac Comète de 1811.” I had the most enjoyable evening…an entire bottle of 1811 Comet cognac.
“Her husband, she said, no work he gave her…”
“Deux charmantes courtisanes qui, si j’en avais eu envie, étaient prêtes à tout pour moi.” Two lovely courtesans who, if I had been in the mood, would have done anything for me. “Rien.” Anything.
Keeping a constant eye on her, Kerr sized up the drooling fiends, searching for the first man he’d have to kill for her.
Because of her.
“Je me vois contraint de veiller à votre survie.” Unfortunately, I am enjoined to keep you among the living.
“His tools were worn out long ago…”
“Lovely song, is it not?” he commented in King’s English.
“The loveliest!”
Andromena unbuttoned the pearl fastening of her glove. Kerr grasped her bare wrist. “Tell me, are you going to strip off your mantle and let them see the full of your delectable form?”
“The smith said, ‘Mine are in good order…
and I’m prepared my skill to show…”
Confusion stitched the graceful arch of her eyebrows into a single line. “Whyever, would I want to do that?”
She directed her question at his glove-clad hand holding her.
“Oh, I don’t know. Because you’re mad. Or stupid.”
He zeroed in on a young man who’d been seduced forward by that slight flash of creamy skin. The biggest thing about the painfully thin fellow was his enormous Adam’s apple, and it hadn’t stopped bobbing since Kerr leveled a look his way.
Pushing her hood back a fraction, Andromena revealed a dazzling smile. “My form is delectable?”
“Hot grew his iron as both desired
and he was wise to strike while so…”
Christ.
“No.”
