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. Shrugging her lovely shoulders, she
glanced at the ceiling. "He's up there ... somewhere," she
said without interest, caressing Tanin's bare chest. The big
man shoved her away, glancing nervously about the room.
"For once you've made sense, dwarf. We better find this
Gargath before he finds us. Come on." Tanin took a step
toward a door at the end of the perfumed, candle-lit
chamber, but the dark-haired beauty caught hold of his
arm.
"Relax, warrior," she whispered. "You don't need to
worry about Lord Gargath. He won't bother you or
anybody." She ran her fingers admiringly through Tanin's
thick, red curls.
"I'll see for myself," Tanin returned, but he sounded less
enthusiastic.
"Very well, if you must." The woman sighed
languorously, nestling her body against Tanin's. "But it's a
waste of time - time that could be spent in much more
pleasant pursuits. The dried-up old wizards been our
prisoner now for two years."
"He's YOUR prisoner?" Tanin gaped.
"Well, yes," said in the blonde, looking up from
nibbling at Sturm's ear. "He was such a boring old thing.
Talking about pentagrams and wanting to know which of
us were virgins and asking a lot of other personal
questions. So we locked him in his old tower with his
stupid rock
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