This is from Threads of Desire, my new fantasy romance due to release in just a few short weeks. (Eek!) Longtime six-sundayers might remember this as the one with the rival rug merchants. (Think medieval Spain, Moroccan bazaars, extravagant fountains and white marble palaces, dirty street bazaars and lush walled gardens.) Since the first chapter is up on my website already, this is from Ch 2:
She’d thought to grab hold of his lust and use it as a leash to tame him, but there was more than simple lust in his eyes. There was patience, intelligence and a complicated desire that she could barely understand, let alone hope to use. He was Kalar of House Azi and she was a poor woman he’d plucked from the streets for his own unfathomable reasons.
This was a mistake. A terrible mistake. She climbed to her feet, sputtering some excuse about how it was time for her to leave, but he stood too.