Pearl Beyond Price Page 3

  No wonder Johannes was terrified.

  But she would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her fear.

  Kira endeavored to look confident of her own abilities. She had no intention of abandoning Johannes to this pair. “I can give him a rough value of the gems,” she offered, the strength of her voice surprising her. Johannes translated her words and Kira took a deep breath, willing her heartbeat to slow. Truly she hoped that she could fulfill this task.

  And her father thought that he had left her a test of her abilities. Kira licked her lips as the warrior slowly slid a small pouch from his tunic. Could she do this? In truth there was little choice now. The warrior spoke directly to her. Kira was forced to meet his compelling gaze once more, though she did not understand his words.

  “He says that the way pearls drop from your lips when you speak is a sign you can be trusted,” Johannes supplied.

  Kira swallowed, knowing that she did not dare reveal the truth of what he had misinterpreted. She reached for the bulging velvet pouch, startled at the jolt that tripped over her skin when the warrior’s rough fingertips brushed hers.

  His skin was warm.

  Suddenly Kira was aware of him in a much more intimate sense than she would have preferred. The unexpected contact and the faint waft of his musky scent awakened something within Kira that would have been better left slumbering.

  She snatched the bag and backed away, hating that he smiled a little at her move. Curse him for presuming to guess her thoughts! She had no flattering impressions of a barbarian warrior.

  Kira glared at the tall man. “This will take time.” She forced herself to continue even when that jaw hardened with displeasure. “Perhaps you could return later.”

  ’Twould be impossible to concentrate under this scrutiny. Kira wanted this man out of her father’s stall. She felt agitated as she never had before and told herself ’twas the man’s very stillness that troubled her. The way he watched every move so impassively, without seeming to even blink, was unnatural.

  Her heart sank when Johannes’ voice faded, his translation not even complete before the warrior shook his head with conviction. He bit out something that Kira had no trouble recognizing as a recrimination or a threat or both. She felt her cheeks heat again. ’Twas too much to have him question her honesty.

  “I have no intention of cheating him and you had best make that clear,” she told Johannes tersely. “This is an honest house. ’Twill be easier for me to concentrate on the task without supervision.”

  A flurry of Mongol followed her words and again the warrior shook his head, deliberately settling himself onto an inverted oil vessel that her father had abandoned in his packing. He braced his elbows on his knees, looking even more immobile than he had before, and growled one last comment.

  “He says you will have to become accustomed to him,” Johannes supplied in a small voice. Though his words came as no surprise to Kira, her heart took an unsteady lurch as she met the warrior’s resolute gaze.

  Fine. She dropped the sack of pearls on the table. The sooner the pearls were assessed, the sooner he would be gone.

  And a good riddance ’twould be.

  She was annoyed, of that there was little doubt. Thierry found the unexpectedness of her response amusing. He was accustomed to fear, but disgruntled surrender was an entirely new reaction.

  What a beauty she was, even in sour temper. Those full lips had tightened. The soft gold of her complexion was now tinged with a more ruddy hue. She cleared her table brusquely of other gems, the expression in those wide dark eyes as mutinous as the set of her full lips.

  For all of that, though, she did his bidding. Thierry supposed a less perceptive man than himself would have been fooled, but he saw every hint of her displeasure. That such a small and feminine creature would even consider defying him was as fascinating as it was unprecedented. Thierry could not help but study her.

  Though she refused to glance in his direction, Thierry knew she was aware of his regard. The color in her cheeks did not fade and she glanced his way at intervals, perhaps when she thought he was not looking at her. He had no intention of averting his gaze. He leaned back against the wall, fingering the hilt of his blade.

  What manner of woman spewed pearls from her mouth when she spoke?

  That was a puzzle, but no less of one than her response to him. Why was she not terrified? Certainly the thin scholar had made it clear that he was Mongol. Fear had lit her eyes, telling Thierry that she was well familiar with their reputation. But she had not recoiled in the manner of other soft urban women, the ones who had seen nothing of life as he knew it.

  What kind of woman would have such audacity? A Mongol woman, certainly, but this woman’s delicate features gave no hint of Eastern blood.

  She must be a witch. Arcane powers would give any person confidence, even one of small stature. Indeed, ’twas good that Thierry had guessed her game, for he would need to guard himself against her sorcery. He would not so much as blink.

  His suggestion that she might cheat him if left alone seemed to have offended her. That aroused Thierry’s curiosity. Surely these town people did not expect foreigners to trust them?

  Or perhaps she simply disliked that he had guessed her intention so early.

  “Perhaps you should have the pearls assessed back at camp,” Nogai suggested.

  Thierry did not have to look to know the path his anda’s thoughts had taken for he heard the implication in his tone. Though the woman’s garb was cut full, ’twas clear enough that she was small and shapely. He felt an uncharacteristic surge of annoyance at his old companion’s appetites.

  “They will be assessed here,” he said, then was irked by Nogai’s knowing chuckle. Thierry felt the other man lean closer, anticipating that his next words would be for his ears alone.

  “Are you not tempted?” Nogai whispered mischievously.

  Thierry did not acknowledge the taunt, but continued to stare resolutely forward. He was not tempted. Women did not tempt him. Ever. They were a distraction he could not afford.

  “You should be, for she is a tasty morsel, indeed.”

  Thierry struggled not to bristle.

  When his words still garnered no response, Nogai dropped his voice yet further. “Perhaps I should sample her myself.”

  “Nay!” Thierry spoke more harshly than he intended.

  The woman glanced up in alarm, her startled expression making him consider apologizing.

  Apologizing? ’Twas only the soft folk of Khanbaliq and other courts who apologized to women. Urban folk. Thierry tried to summon a sneer. A Mongol would not apologize. He held her startled gaze for a charged moment, then her color rose and she turned abruptly away.

  He was a Mongol these days. He owed nothing to this woman but all to his tribe. Thierry recalled the way the pearls had fallen from her lips. And the tingle she had launched over his skin when their hands had accidentally brushed.

  “She is a witch,” he murmured, as much to remind himself as anything else.

  To his completely unwarranted relief, Nogai’s manner cooled. The scholar drew himself up taller as though he took insult at the charge. One cold glance from Thierry silenced any protest he might have made.

  “Touch her not,” Thierry added.

  “Nay,” Nogai agreed. He even took a wary step backward, granting the woman more space. “There is no telling what price she would extract for that deed.”

  The woman’s gaze flicked between the men. Clearly she sensed that they discussed her and just as clearly she did not know what they said. All three men remained silent, even the scholar refusing to clarify the charges for her. The woman’s lips thinned in annoyance and Thierry almost smiled.

  Smiled? First he wanted to apologize, then he wanted to smile. Surely his wits were addled this day. Thierry scowled instead. ’Twas the witch and her sorcery that did this to him. She spun away from the table and carried a broad vessel back into the shadows.

  Where was s
he going? Thierry panicked and jumped to his feet to pursue her.

  For his obvious suspicions, he earned a scathing glance from the lady in question, one that halted him in his tracks. Thierry almost chuckled at her indignation, but she pivoted to turn her back upon him again. The ripe curve of her buttocks were outlined when she bent to scoop water from an urn and he heard himself catch his breath in admiration.

  Nogai made a sound under his breath that Thierry alone seemed to hear. She was even more shapely than he had guessed and Thierry’s mouth went dry. How long had he been chaste? In this moment, he was certain it had been an eternity.

  She propped the brimming clay bowl on her hip as she turned to bring it back to the table. The further evidence of the slender curves fed Thierry’s awareness of her. He almost wished he had been able to adopt his tribesmen’s penchant for simply taking whatever they desired.

  He had come for the value of the pearls and no more. Once he had that information, he would return to the khan’s camp. With Nogai. Abaqa would have his tribute from Tiflis, such as it was, and they would ride to battle on the morrow.

  He watched the woman settle the bowl on her worktable. Her hands were long-fingered and graceful for all their delicate size, though Thierry did not know why he noted such a detail.

  ’Twould be ridiculous to undermine any of his aspirations for what could be no more than lust. Abaqa might not thrive as long as his father, and Thierry might soon have the opportunity to achieve his ambition. No woman was worth jeopardizing all of that.

  She moved quickly, casting the pearls into the vessel of water so suddenly that Thierry was caught by surprise. He stepped forward in alarm, too late to intervene, as the contents of the velvet pouch sank to the bottom.

  A trick! And he had been too distracted to anticipate her move!

  Nogai swore. He lunged forward in the same moment as Thierry. The two of them towered over the woman as she glanced up in astonishment. Thierry peered into the water, his anger flaring when he realized he could not see the pearls.

  They were gone! He had failed.

  The vessel had a false bottom. He cursed his own stupidity in letting his baser instincts cloud his normal caution. But he would not grant Abaqa an easy victory.

  The woman’s eyes widened when Thierry hauled his blade from his belt. She looked startled, then incredulous to find the unsheathed blade beneath her nose. She met his gaze, her beautiful dark eyes filled with confusion. Thierry hated his inexplicable urge to reassure her.

  Was she not deceiving him and stealing from him? Did that not grant him the right to take her life? Why then did he have this urge to console her?

  “Tell him that this is the best way to find forgeries.” She spoke hastily to Johannes, but the translation made Thierry frown. He watched as she indicated the orbs that rose to float on the surface of the water. More and more of them bobbed into sight as he stared.

  She said something else, and the scholar’s quick translation sparked Thierry’s interest. “You have been tricked.”

  The woman plucked the floating “pearls” from the surface of the water as Thierry watched. Before he could intervene, she offered them to him with a dismissive gesture that told Thierry all he needed to know about their authenticity.

  They were counterfeit. He had been right, but she had proven it. He acknowledged her skill as he looked at the “gems,” lowering his blade but not yet putting it away.

  “Counterfeit,” Nogai breathed. Thierry felt his friend’s regard upon him. “You suspected as much before we even came here?” he demanded admiringly. Thierry nodded, watching the woman to see what she would do next. “City dwellers,” Nogai sneered as he shook his head. “Surely they cannot think we would let such an insult pass?”

  “The matter is best left to Abaqa,” Thierry said.

  Perhaps he had misjudged the witch’s intentions. She flicked a glance at him and flushed in a most attractive way. Thierry’s gaze dropped to her lips. She licked them and desire raged to life within him.

  Thierry frowned and averted his gaze. He filed the false gems carefully in a separate pouch so that Abaqa might be shown the fullness of the insult. He peered into the depths of the bowl with curiosity, all too aware of the woman’s sweet scent. The water had cleared and Thierry counted ten pearls nestled together in the bottom.

  ’Twas obviously a magic trick of hers to be able to so easily sort the wheat from the chaff. Though he knew not the means of her sorcery, Thierry respected the result. She pushed up a sleeve to reveal a slim forearm and scooped the remaining pearls from the base of the bowl. Was her skin the same honeyed shade everywhere? The question was more intriguing than it ought to have been. Thierry abruptly held out his hand to claim the meager spoils, uncomfortable with the direction of his thoughts.

  To his complete astonishment, she put the gems into her mouth.

  Nay! She meant to swallow the only part of the tribute that was valuable!

  Rage filled Thierry, rage with himself for being so foolish as to trust a stranger. He dove across the narrow table separating than. The vessel of water toppled. The woman made an incoherent sound of surprise and stepped backward, but Thierry was quicker.

  His hands locked around the slim length of her throat with practiced ease. The water splashed over their feet. The scholar shouted in dismay. Nogai swore yet again, but Thierry had no time for qualms.

  He could not let her swallow the pearls.

  That one conviction filled his thoughts even as he noted the softness of her skin beneath his hands. The woman’s eyes opened even wider as his grip tightened. He noted with some satisfaction that fear had finally claimed her. He flexed his fingers so they would not slide over her silky skin of their own accord.

  She had tricked him!

  The witch choked and spat a half dozen pearls to the floor, tears filling her dark eyes as still she coughed. Out of the corner of his eye Thierry noted that Nogai retrieved the gems.

  There had been ten pearls in the water. Thierry was certain of it.

  Four were still unaccounted for and he intended to wait them out.

  He gave the woman a little shake and she made a gurgling sound deep in her throat. Furious that she had so deceived him and might expire with the gems inside her, Thierry released her throat and slapped her back hard.

  Another pearl leaped to the floor.

  Three more! He smacked her shoulder blades once more when she still choked, ignoring the older man’s fervent and useless prayers. A second gem made the jump, rolling across the dirt. Finally a third gleamed as it fell from her lips. The woman drew a shuddering breath and cleared her throat slowly, wiping her tears as Thierry glared at her.

  There was one more.

  When she spoke, he would have the last pearl. His eyes narrowed at the look of outright hostility she shot at him. Traitorous witch! He gripped her shoulders that she might not bolt, lifted a hand before her and waited.

  “You stupid fool!” She spat an insult he had no interest in understanding. Thierry stared at her full lips, his disbelief growing when no gem dropped from them. He frowned at her tirade even as the older man translated, the indisputably angry words flowing over him unheard.

  He could not doubt her meaning, for her brown eyes flashed with fury as she wagged a finger beneath his nose. “Look what you have done with your meddling!” she charged.

  She was angry? Thierry inhaled slowly when the scholar’s translation revealed that she believed he was at fault.

  Perhaps she was annoyed that he had foiled her plan. Otherwise she might have had nine more pearls.

  His lips set grimly. She had no right to the khan’s tribute. She had not been insulted by his earlier charge that she meant to cheat him: she had simply been annoyed that he had guessed her intentions. He had been a fool to trust her at all. Thierry regarded her coldly, then lifted his palm between them in a silent but eloquent gesture.

  The woman shook her head firmly and pointed to her stomach.

 
; “There are ways to retrieve something swallowed,” Nogai said calmly as he unsheathed his blade. The woman took a hasty step backward, evidently needing no translation of the other man’s intent.

  “Aye,” Thierry agreed and pursued her with purpose.

  The gem would be his.

  She darted to the back of the stall in a futile effort to evade him. When he cornered her, her breath was coming in quick gasps. Her eyes and the hasty flutter of the pulse in her throat revealed that she was finally truly afraid. She said something that was obviously an entreaty, but Thierry had no intention of following Nogai’s suggestion.

  He would not question why. He pressed down on her shoulders until she dropped to her knees, unable to help noticing how tiny she was. He closed one hand around her jaw, while the other slipped into the thick silk of the hair at her nape.

  Soft, he marveled, hesitating for an instant. It had been years since he had felt anything so soft as this woman’s hair. She spared him a terrified glance that recalled him to the situation. Thierry pushed his finger into her mouth and down her throat.

  She clutched at his hand, her grip surprisingly strong as she coughed and gagged. Thierry knelt over her as she dropped to all fours, sensing that the pearl would shortly be his.

  Her offering, though, was devoid of gems.

  A witch, indeed. Tears of exertion streamed over her cheeks but she did not look vulnerable. Nay, she glared at him with indignation. Thierry once more felt that unfamiliar urge to smile.

  Instead he frowned and held out his hand once more.

  “’Tis gone,” she insisted and the scholar rapidly translated her words.

  He refused to look away and she pointed again to her stomach.

  “You have no one to thank for that but yourself,” she chided.

  Her indignation made no sense. Thierry turned to the scholar. “What does she mean?” he demanded, still not relinquishing his grip on her shoulders. His fingers curled around her and without thinking, he drew her closer. The scent of her skin was sweet and seductive. He forced himself to keep his gaze averted as he gathered his thoughts.