02-16-2009, 06:21 PM
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The man had departed the scene without haste, but the moment he was out of their sight his pace picked up. Paxton didn't exactly want to believe what was clearly true — that she had a man already — but he had anticipated as much. His men had told him as much, and that was the frightening part. Akello had always been the logical one but out of all of them, he had been the one who had been so flippant toward the possibility and likelihood that the woman they were rescuing was not some maiden in distress. This was not his story-book romance where the pirate gets the woman.
No, that was left to men of power. He wasn't bitter toward the Inferni patriarch as he could have been — it simply was not his way — but a grim set had met his jaw if only for the moment. Somewhere between the beach and the mansion he now faced he had stopped to shift and now strode on his two toned legs, white shirt (with sleeves ripped off at the shoulders) open (as always since the buttons had been lost) and fluttering with the breeze and his knapsack thrown comfortable over his back.
Knock, knock? he called with a grin into the interminable silence that had met him ever since leaving the beach, not too keen on the idea of pushing open the door, which was slightly ajar anyway, and walking in to find he was very unwelcome there.
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The man had departed the scene without haste, but the moment he was out of their sight his pace picked up. Paxton didn't exactly want to believe what was clearly true — that she had a man already — but he had anticipated as much. His men had told him as much, and that was the frightening part. Akello had always been the logical one but out of all of them, he had been the one who had been so flippant toward the possibility and likelihood that the woman they were rescuing was not some maiden in distress. This was not his story-book romance where the pirate gets the woman.
No, that was left to men of power. He wasn't bitter toward the Inferni patriarch as he could have been — it simply was not his way — but a grim set had met his jaw if only for the moment. Somewhere between the beach and the mansion he now faced he had stopped to shift and now strode on his two toned legs, white shirt (with sleeves ripped off at the shoulders) open (as always since the buttons had been lost) and fluttering with the breeze and his knapsack thrown comfortable over his back.
Knock, knock? he called with a grin into the interminable silence that had met him ever since leaving the beach, not too keen on the idea of pushing open the door, which was slightly ajar anyway, and walking in to find he was very unwelcome there.