Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
“Well, it appears that these fruits keep very well until you cook them,” she protested. “I promise none will go to waste.”
“It’s true! They’re good for a year and a day from the time they are plucked from the bushes,” the fruit merchant said, nodding. “But they’re so delicious, there’s no way they’ll last that long,” he added. “That will be fifteen credits, please.”
“Very well,” Need pretended to grumble but he was secretly pleased at the happy look on Lan’ara’s face. He paid the merchant with his cred chip and took the heavy bag from her. He slung it over his shoulder and took her hand as they continued through the marketplace.
“Thank you, my Lord Need, for getting me the lovely fruits,” Lan’ara said, looking up at him.
Need nodded a welcome.
“You know,” he remarked, “Most females would have been more interested in the silk or tassels we passed. But not you—you’ve always got your eye out for new ingredients to play with.”
“I love cooking and baking,” Lan’ara said simply. “New recipes are so much fun to try! I can’t wait to look some up to use with these fruits tonight. I hope the crew will like what I make.”
Need snorted.
“You know damn good and well they will! You’ve got the lot of them eating out of your hand, girl—both literally and figuratively. And that includes Captain Glo’ll, who declares you are the ‘most lovely meat-based organism’ he has ever seen.”
Lan’ara put a hand to her mouth and giggled.
“Well, we meat-based organisms aim to please! And I’m glad you think the crew finds my cooking pleasing.”
“Some of the crew finds a whole lot more than your cooking pleasing,” Need murmured, looking into her eyes. “Some of us enjoy your skills in the sleeping chamber even more than your baking skills.”
He knew he shouldn’t talk so to her, but he liked the way his words made her blush and drop her eyes…liked the way her soft voice became so breathless when he reminded her of what they did each night.
“My Lord, you flatter me,” she murmured, looking up at him from under her long lashes. “And may I point out that you are quite skilled yourself in the arts of pleasure.”
“I’m glad you approve of my technique,” Need rumbled, smiling down at her.
Lan’ara blushed even more deeply.
“I do, my Lord. Sometimes…” She bit her lip. “Sometimes it is all I can think about,” she confessed softly.
“I’ve been thinking about it too, Lan’ara,” he admitted. “Been thinking about you.” Her name slipped out along with his confession and then it was too late to call it back.
“My Lord…Need,” she said, looking up at him. “Please, I was wondering…there is something…something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“What is it, then?” Need murmured. “Something you need?”
“Yes, in a way. I—”
“Well, hello there, friends!” a high, fruity voice cooed, interrupting their conversation. “Needrix, you did not tell me you had gotten mated since our last encounter!”
Thirty-Two
Lan’ara wished the strange looking man who had interrupted their conversation hadn’t said that about her and Need being “mated.” It made the big Kindred drop her hand at once and scowl like a thunderstorm, though just moments before he had been softening towards her, she was sure of it. He had even called her by her name instead of just “girl”. Surely that had to mean something—didn’t it?
Well, she would have to hope they could continue their conversation later because now it looked like Need was all business.
“Greetings, Myakk,” he said, frowning down at the man. “Are you ready to deal?”
“Of course but not here. Follow me. Come, Velda—this way my sweet.”
These words weren’t directed at them but rather to the strange conveyance he was riding in. It looked a little like a shiny, shell-pink bathtub with four stubby legs and cunning little paw-like feet. It picked its way through the crowded marketplace daintily, reminding Lan’ara of Nettie—one of the equines she used to ride at Twyleth Tigg for recreation sometimes.
Nettie had been skittish and likely to shy at almost anything—a leaf blowing by, a flutterby flying too close to her sensitive nose, even her own shadow on the ground. She could, however, be bribed. Whenever she chose Nettie to ride on, Lan’ara always made certain to have plenty of sweet biscuits in her pockets. Just one or two of them would settle the skittish equine down and make her behave.
As she watched the strange pink bathtub thing, she thought that it really did remind her of Nettie. It kept stopping and jolting from side to side, making the man called Myakk speak to it in a stern voice. She wondered if it had a mouth and eyes on the front sloping side of its oval body and wished she had taken more than a cursory glance at it before he turned it around.