Marc was immediately assaulted by the oppressive heat. He may have grown up near the border with Spain, but he never experienced a desertic heat… It’s like walking into the kitchen on a hot, summer day…
The air here was stale. Wherever they were, there was little interaction with the outside world… like a tomb…
They eventually came to a stop, and the Contessa released her grip. Before he could open his eyes, she pressed her lips against his. Given the heat, her cool touch comforted him.
Disclaimer: This excerpt from Man of War is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
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