Say a Prayer Ch. 01

Knocking, there was knocking.

Her head jerked up, and she looked behind herself.

A man's tanned, scarred, curled fingers were against the door frame. Attached to the hand, there was a thick arm, and then a tall, broad man.

His voice was like the sound of a large bell's ring echoing throughout a community. It resonated in Delma's body and had her shivering.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but when I saw your hair, I thought you seemed familiar."

Delma rose and turned her body around, her fingers moving up to the ordinary bun at her nape. "Sir? I'm afraid I don't know your name."

While his face wasn't what she'd call traditionally handsome, Delma still thought he was enchanting to look at. Sun-kissed with freckles around random parts of his face, a slightly crooked yet strong and firm nose, piercing brown eyes with long blond lashes, a strong jaw, a mischievous set of lips, this man had exciting features. Even his wavy hair was lovely, golden and sparkling, even in a such a shaded area.

And he was so ... big.

His eyelids moved as if he was smiling. Then he bowed and said, "Maino Roiters."

It was as if he had poured cold water into her brain. She recognized the name immediately. Then she curtsied. Her head tilted to one side, and her hands layered near her belly. "You're a fighter, aren't you? I oversaw a ceremony before one of your matches." Most of the owners of the Fighting Hall in Henrisk were fond of the God of Hope.

"Yes, Miss," Mr. Roiters said with a nod. Something put a bit more enthusiasm at the end of that response, right at the word miss. He pushed the door away, lowering the hand on the door frame. There was a lightly abrasive noise as his flesh moved down the wood. "Would you mind having a little prayer with me? I could use the hope for my next match."

Delma nodded so deeply that it was almost a bow. "That would be lovely." She went to a shelf on a wall and took down a small pillow. She moved her own pillow aside to make room for the new one. "You may pray right here," she said as she returned to a kneeling position, patting the cushion beside her with her palm.

She didn't just hear his shoes on the stone floor. She felt his steps all around her, as if she was a puddle and he was disturbing her. When he took his position beside her, she noticed a light scent about him. It reminded her of parsley, charcoal, and a hint of masculine musk. It was difficult to ignore.

The room was already small. Now that he was near her, it felt smaller.

After they shared a moment of prayer, Mr. Roiters asked for her name. After she gave it to him, he handed her a small rectangle of thick paper. Delma looked at the formal looking words printed on the thing. It looked like a ticket.

"Come to my next match, won't you?" the man said with a young tone, sounding like a little boy asking a parent to watch him do something.

Delma noted the seat number on the ticket. Her fingernail gently drew a line under the symbols as if she wanted to underline them. "This seems to be a highly coveted seat."

"Well," Mr. Roiters said, slapping his thighs with his large hands, "I want you to see the action. I can't let you sit in a bad seat."

Delma nodded, folding the ticket into a pocket. "I'll set aside some time, then, so I can go to your match."

His hand moved towards her, and it covered hers. Delma's eyelashes fluttered, and she turned her head away, uncertain if she should jerk her hand away or let him do whatever he wanted with it.

She felt his rough fingers fold over hers. He had quite a few calluses.

Then her hand was lifted ...

And the joints of her fingers met the softness of a man's lips.

Delma gasped quickly and turned her head again to look at him.

Those eyes ... they were a lighter brown than hers, and they were intense, moving from her hand to her face.

When his fingers loosened, Delma's hand retreated back to her lap. She cleared her throat. "I ... I need to leave soon. I have an assignment."

"Of course," Mr. Roiters said, his clothes rustling as he got up to his feet. "I'll see you at the Fighting Hall. Have a grand day."

The clicking of the door being closed as he left sounded odd to her.

***