Shields Lady Read Free Page A

going to explain what happened in the tavern?"

                "Don't worry," she assured him confidently. "I'll do the talking." She glanced again at the black leather kit attached to the Shield's belt. Something made her very curious about it. On impulse she rose to her feet and strode briskly around the table to where the man lay motionless.

    "Sariana!" Lady Avylyn gasped. "What are you doing? Don't touch that."

                "Nonsense. It might be useful to know what the Shield considers valuable enough to decorate with prisma." Sariana knelt down beside the man and examined the leather strap that held the pouch to the belt. She put out her hand to undo the fastening and then paused uncertainly. Behind her she could practically hear the others holding their collective bream.

                Up close like this, the Shield appeared larger and infinitely more solid than he had looked from across the room. A man lying sprawled on his back fooled the eye slightly and looked smaller than he actually was. But now that she was kneeling beside him, Sariana got a whole new perspective. She began to sense why the Avylyns were so wary of the Shield they had captured.

                There was a smooth, well-muscled strength in his shoulders and the lines of his thighs were sleek and powerful. He was lean and tough looking, and the arrogant set of his features - even when unconscious only served to emphasize his other hard qualities.

                Sariana realized she was forgetting to breathe. She found herself inexplicably and acutely aware of the man in a way she couldn't explain. She was suddenly, intensely interested in him. No, it was beyond that. She realized that for some reason she was fascinated by him. If she bad any faith in western tales of goblins and fairies, she might have believed she was under a small spell. But that was a crazy notion.
                Her fingers hovered above the fastening that held the leather pouch to the Shield's belt, but she didn't quite touch the object. Instead she found herself examining the man's face more closely.
                His hair was black, as dark as a midnight sky. He wore it much shorter man the fashionable men in

    town. Sariana’s gaze moved quickly over his closed eyes. She speculated briefly about their color and decided they would probably be dark. Dark eyes were common on the western continent. Then her gaze went to his sharp nose, took in the well etched but grim shape of his mouth and went on to the hard lines of his jaw.

                The Shield could not be deemed handsome, but Sariana knew with a sense of shock that this man would never need to trade on his looks. It was clear to her that he would make his way in the world on his own terms, even though he moved on the fringes of respectable society.

                A tiny shiver went through Sariana as she crouched, gazing down at the man on the floor. She realized that she had been staring at him much too long. She had to break the strange sense of enthrallment.
                Angry at the effect the unconscious Shield had had on her, she quickly jerked open the leather catch that held the pouch to the belt.

                Lady Avylyn took a deep, shaky breath and Mara gave a soft cry as Sariana lifted the pouch free. Jasso and Bryer just groaned.

                In that instant the Shield lifted his dark lashes without any warning and Sariana had the answer to her earlier question about the shade of his eyes. They were an unfamiliar blue-green. She had never seen eyes quite that color before in her life. They locked immediately on her face. Sariana was gripped by the unnerving conviction that she suddenly knew far too much about him. He could be dangerous. An implacable enemy. He would be a fiercely possessive lover. Sariana felt the breath catch in her throat at that last, unbidden thought. For a few