touch of his hands skimming over her arms and legs, the touch of his fingers
moving ever so gently in her hair. Maybe it was a good thing that she was going to Trellis next week, she
mused, before she did something really stupid, like throw herself into his arms. She had a feeling Number
Page 27
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Four was far more dangerous to her health, and her peace of mind, than a stallion that was still half-wild.
Chapter Nine
"You want me to do what?" Falkon stared at Ashlynne, unable to believe what he was hearing. "I want
you to pick me a bouquet of flowers and ferns." "I don't have time for that. Pick them yourself." "Do as I
say, Number Four, or I shall report your insolence to my father, and you'll find yourself back in the mine."
It was an empty threat, and they both knew it. "Don't you have anything better to do than torment me?"
"No." She looked up at him through wide green eyes. "Life was really quite dull here until you came
along." Falkon glared at her. He had the feeling she was laughing at him, that she was, indeed, telling the
truth, and that he had become her greatest source of amusement. "A large bouquet." She picked up a
blade of grass and twirled it between her thumb and forefinger. " 'Twill look lovely on the table at dinner."
Muttering an oath, Falkon tossed his shovel aside and stalked toward the vast flower beds that grew
along the south wall. Flowers! He made his way along the narrow brick-lined paths that wound through
the flower beds, randomly plucking the blooms that caught his eye. He had to admit that whoever had
arranged and planted the gardens had an eye for color and design. He'd never seen anything quite so
pretty. He had never had much time to notice such things, and didn't know what most of the flowers were
called, but they were beautiful, bright reds and blues and pinks and yellows. Butterflies large and small
and in bright rainbow colors flitted from bush to bush. Sparrows sang in the treetops, and he felt his anger
dissipate as he continued on. The sky was blue and clear, the sun was warm, the air was filled with the
sweet fragrance of the flowers, of earth and grass. "You're not supposed to pick them all." He turned
around, surprised to find the girl trailing after him, a smirk on her face. "You said you wanted a large
bouquet." He thrust the flowers he had gathered into her hands. "Damn, girl, you're harder to get rid of
than a case of the plague," he muttered irritably. "Admit it," she said. "You were having a good time."
"Don't be ridiculous." "I saw the look on your face. I'll bet it's the first time you ever picked a flower in
your whole life." "You're imagining things." "Why are you so stubborn?" "Why are you following me?"
She shrugged. "Nothing else to do." He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "How long did you
say you were going to be gone?" "I didn't say, but if you must know, I'll probably be gone the whole
summer. I guess that makes you happy, doesn't it?" Falkon nodded, but it was a lie. He was going to
miss her when she was gone, he thought. Her every move seemed to tempt him. Her mere presence was
a constant reminder that it had been far too long since he'd had a woman. Woman, he thought. She was
hardly that. She was young, far too young and far too innocent for the likes of him, yet even now he felt
his body hardening, reacting to her nearness. He clenched his hands in an effort to keep from reaching for
her. She'd kept quiet about his spying on her in her room, but he doubted even his threat to tell her father
about her sneaking down to the mine would be enough to guarantee her silence if he kissed her. But he
wanted to, by the stars, he wanted to, even though he knew it would be the biggest mistake he had ever
made. She looked up at him and licked her lips. In any other female, it would have been a blatant
invitation, but Ashlynne wasn't experienced enough to
moving ever so gently in her hair. Maybe it was a good thing that she was going to Trellis next week, she
mused, before she did something really stupid, like throw herself into his arms. She had a feeling Number
Page 27
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Four was far more dangerous to her health, and her peace of mind, than a stallion that was still half-wild.
Chapter Nine
"You want me to do what?" Falkon stared at Ashlynne, unable to believe what he was hearing. "I want
you to pick me a bouquet of flowers and ferns." "I don't have time for that. Pick them yourself." "Do as I
say, Number Four, or I shall report your insolence to my father, and you'll find yourself back in the mine."
It was an empty threat, and they both knew it. "Don't you have anything better to do than torment me?"
"No." She looked up at him through wide green eyes. "Life was really quite dull here until you came
along." Falkon glared at her. He had the feeling she was laughing at him, that she was, indeed, telling the
truth, and that he had become her greatest source of amusement. "A large bouquet." She picked up a
blade of grass and twirled it between her thumb and forefinger. " 'Twill look lovely on the table at dinner."
Muttering an oath, Falkon tossed his shovel aside and stalked toward the vast flower beds that grew
along the south wall. Flowers! He made his way along the narrow brick-lined paths that wound through
the flower beds, randomly plucking the blooms that caught his eye. He had to admit that whoever had
arranged and planted the gardens had an eye for color and design. He'd never seen anything quite so
pretty. He had never had much time to notice such things, and didn't know what most of the flowers were
called, but they were beautiful, bright reds and blues and pinks and yellows. Butterflies large and small
and in bright rainbow colors flitted from bush to bush. Sparrows sang in the treetops, and he felt his anger
dissipate as he continued on. The sky was blue and clear, the sun was warm, the air was filled with the
sweet fragrance of the flowers, of earth and grass. "You're not supposed to pick them all." He turned
around, surprised to find the girl trailing after him, a smirk on her face. "You said you wanted a large
bouquet." He thrust the flowers he had gathered into her hands. "Damn, girl, you're harder to get rid of
than a case of the plague," he muttered irritably. "Admit it," she said. "You were having a good time."
"Don't be ridiculous." "I saw the look on your face. I'll bet it's the first time you ever picked a flower in
your whole life." "You're imagining things." "Why are you so stubborn?" "Why are you following me?"
She shrugged. "Nothing else to do." He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "How long did you
say you were going to be gone?" "I didn't say, but if you must know, I'll probably be gone the whole
summer. I guess that makes you happy, doesn't it?" Falkon nodded, but it was a lie. He was going to
miss her when she was gone, he thought. Her every move seemed to tempt him. Her mere presence was
a constant reminder that it had been far too long since he'd had a woman. Woman, he thought. She was
hardly that. She was young, far too young and far too innocent for the likes of him, yet even now he felt
his body hardening, reacting to her nearness. He clenched his hands in an effort to keep from reaching for
her. She'd kept quiet about his spying on her in her room, but he doubted even his threat to tell her father
about her sneaking down to the mine would be enough to guarantee her silence if he kissed her. But he
wanted to, by the stars, he wanted to, even though he knew it would be the biggest mistake he had ever
made. She looked up at him and licked her lips. In any other female, it would have been a blatant
invitation, but Ashlynne wasn't experienced enough to
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