He looked at me, and I felt captured by his gaze. I couldn’t look away for the life of me. “I’ve only visited you.” I just sat there, staring like someone who’s been hypnotized. I mean, what do you say to that? Finally I choked out, “How did I get so lucky?” I have no idea why I said such a thing. I’m not even sure what I meant by it. But there was no doubt in how Dusa took my statement. “I like you, Shalia. I like your spirit. Your strength. You fought for yourself and your mother until you no longer could.” He laughed. “I think you might have fought forever if you hadn’t become so ill.” I swallowed. The way he looked at me ... well, it just knocked the air out of my lungs. I’ve been looked at sexually before. Men who had the power to get me in their beds took full advantage of it. But no one had ever stared at me the way Dusa did. It wasn’t just bald, ugly lust in his eyes. There was also fascination and deep consideration. It was as if he didn’t simply want me so he could demonstrate his power or get his selfish pleasure. I got a sense of something like reverence. It’s impossible to really describe since I’m not sure of what exactly it was.
