Change the subject, change the freaking subject. If she continued down this road, she would break down and cry. She could tell him how she planned to find a way to break his curse, but why get his hopes up when she currently had no leads?
“Tell me about the women on your planet,” she said instead. “What are they like?”
He nuzzled her neck. “If I refuse to tell you?”
“I’ll give you a karate chop you’ll never forget.”
“Then I will tell you—” he lifted his hands, and she moaned from the loss “—after you give me a demonstration of this karate. My curiosity must be appeased this second.”
“Very well.” She crawled from the bed and pushed to her feet. When she bent to grab her clothing, he tsked.
“Ah-ah-ah, Julia. As I warrior, I know more about combat, and I’m telling you this karate is best demonstrated with no clothing to hinder the movements.”
“You’re sure, are you? Even though you’ve never seen karate?”
“Aye. I’m sure.” Expression mischievous, he propped himself up on the pillows. “Upon my honor.”
“Well, since your honor is at stake and all.” Gathering her courage, she stepped in front of the bed. He watched her as if he couldn’t tear his eyes away, as if he didn’t mind that she was, well, on the plump side.
Of course he doesn’t. I am beautiful, inside and out. Why had she ever let her mother’s voice get in her head, telling her she would never be pretty enough, would never be good enough? Because her mother had seen them as equals. But they weren’t. No two people were alike in every way. Julia wasn’t her mother, and her mother wasn’t her, their ideas of beauty different.
I am beautiful, she repeated. Even naked and covered with strawberry jelly. For all she knew, stick-thin women were considered malnourished on his planet. She grinned at the thought.
“Are you ready for this?” she asked him.
“I have been ready since I first appeared to you.” He crossed his hands behind his head, getting comfortable. “You may begin now.”
Lord, help me. Before she lost her nerve, she performed several moves she’d seen on TV. A high kick. A slash of her arms. She even pretended to chop a block of wood in half. He didn’t laugh. No, when she finished, he growled, “Come do that to me.”
And she did.
Later, she snuggled into his side and said, “So now tell me about the women on your planet. Are all the women as beautiful as Zirra?”
“Zirra is not beautiful. She is ugly. Evil. But nay, most of the women do not resemble her. They come in all different shapes and sizes, colors and temperaments. Just like here on Earth.”
“What about Imperia itself? You’ve spoken of the magic there, but not about the way you’re governed.”
As he petted her hair, he told her, “There is a Great Lord who reigns over the mortals, and a High Priest who reigns over the Druinn. Their word is absolute over their people. Then there are the Elite, the soldiers and the serving class. I served my Great Lord gladly, for he was a wise and just man.”
“So you were a soldier?”
“I was an Elite soldier.”
“And did you, my Elite solider, fight many battles?”
“Aye. You see, at one time the mortals and the Druinn continually warred. Then the two rulers forged a bond of peace, the mortals vowing never to destroy the source of the Druinn powers, the Kyi-en-Tra Crystal, and the Druinn vowing never to hurt the mortals with their magic. Many of the people, both mortal and sorcerer, were against such an alliance, however. Each wanted his own race to rule the other. When I left, a rebellion was brewing.”
“I wonder if it ever erupted and if so, who won,” she said. “The rebels or the kings.”
“The Druinn have many mystical powers, and the mortals outnumber them ten to one. Together, they could conquer anything, yet they were having trouble quashing this resistance.”
“Did the rebels have some sort of magic weapon?”
“Nay, they were simply more determined than most. And the world was quickly losing its vitality. The continual war between races caused cities to wither and many people to die.” Tristan shifted her more comfortably in his arms. “That which once thrived was quickly losing its resilience, weakening the classes and strengthening the rebels.”
“I’m sorry.”
He gently squeezed her hip. “Before my curse, I had been called by my Great Lord to fight the Druinn rebels.”
“So you were consorting with your enemy, weren’t you, when you were with Zirra?”
“We were not enemies at the time. Remember, our kings had just become allies. And besides that, I had always considered a woman a woman.”
“And therefore unable to hurt or overpower you, whatever her origins,” Julia finished for him.
He nodded, twin circles of pink staining his cheeks.
“Do you want to know what happened to Imperia once you left?”
“Aye. I do. Imperia is still my home.”
Home. The word echoed in her head. He wanted to go back, and she couldn’t blame him. “One day you might be given a chance to go back without Zirra’s help to finish what your king called you to do.”
“Nay.” The response came swiftly, but nothing came after it.
“There’s got to be a way.”
“There is. The day I fall in love, the curse will break, and I will go back.”
Her chest tightened. “Maybe I could visit?” She longed to visit Imperia again.
Expression dark, muscles clenched, he shook his head. “I have no magic to transport you, Julia. If I went back, I would never see you again.”
And he wanted to see her more than he wanted to go home? “Are you ready for your shower now?” she asked, because she didn’t know what else to say.
“Nay. I am ready for our shower.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
You Own Nothing, Not Even Your Own Happiness
LATER, JULIA AND TRISTAN FOUND themselves in the backyard, a cool breeze gusting. Muted rays of light fought with mounting darkness. Tristan’s box was still locked inside the planter, where it would stay, a great relief. They laughed, played tag and rolled atop a hill. Because of the storm, the ground was soft and wet, and streaked them both with mud.
Tristan made a great production of removing the twigs from Julia’s hair as she struggled to contain her laughter. Each time she smiled, his own lips would stretch, unbidden, into a grin. He did not recall a time when he’d been happier or more carefree.
They settled on lounge chairs, lying there in the cold and holding each other to stay warm. He shared memories of his mother and of the trouble in which he, a precocious and mischievous little toddler with a sweet tooth, had always found himself.
“Before my parents split up,” Julia said, “I once found Faith’s diary, copied the pages and taped them all over the house. I’m still not sure if she’s forgiven me.”
“Cruel, cruel Julia,” he teased.
“I had to do something to make her suffer.” Almost absently, she picked at the ivory buttons on his coat. “The night before, she’d sneaked into my room and cut off all my hair. Looking back, I know we just wanted my parent’s attention.”
He tangled his fingers in the thick mass, angling her head up. His eyes flashed. “Such a travesty deserved a harsh punishment. You did well.”
“Thank you,” she said, fluffing her hair.
Beautiful female. Needing her again, he captured her lips with his own then, a hungry kiss that filled his soul and melted his bones.
* * *
THE NEXT TIME ROMULIS APPEARED to Zirra, he gripped a turquoise shard of the Kyi-en-Tra Crystal, the source of all their power. Smug secrets danced in the golden depths of his eyes as he angrily faced her.
“Think you Tristan is the only man who can meet your desires?” he growled.
“Aye,” she answered, though a single doubt sprang to life inside her. She hastily tamped it down. “I do,” she said with greater force
, more for her own benefit than his.
He blinked, the action somehow highlighting the smugness in his eyes. “Even if I prove beyond a doubt that he hungers for another?”
Her stomach twisted at the thought, yet she had to know. “What have you found?”
“Watch,” he commanded. “See.”
He lifted the prism. With a few muttered words, multiple rays of color exploded toward the ceiling. Red, pink, blue, green, all brilliant and nearly blinding. They whirled together, colliding, mixing, and when they evaporated, she spied Tristan’s image hovering in her air.
Zirra watched him and his guan ren play and laugh. Tristan tackled the woman to the ground, twisting in midair to take the brunt of the fall upon himself. The woman smiled up at Tristan. He returned the smile with one of his own, one filled with joy and affection. Then he kissed her hungrily.
Waves of emotion flooded Zirra, a sea of anger and fear, cresting with a relentless desperation so intense she wanted to shout, You belong with me.
“I cast a spell to destroy that woman,” she said through clenched teeth. “Why is she still alive?”
“Your magic was too weak to do much harm.”
“But yours was not, and you helped me with the spell.”
“Nay.” He slowly shook his head. “I only helped you with your powers. I used none of my own.”
Pure hatred filled her. For Romulis or the woman, she wasn’t sure which. “Kill the woman for me, Romulis. Kill her.”
Lethal fury smoldered in his gaze, and he watched her for a prolonged moment. “This is how you react? Do you not see these two are in love?”
“They are not in love, you fool,” she spat. “Otherwise, his spell would be broken.”
“Why can you not forget him?”
Her nails cut into her palm. “I will forget him when I am dead, and no sooner.”
“Mayhap that can be arranged,” he said quietly, deceptively, and strode from the chamber.
* * *
ZIRRA SPENT THE NEXT HOUR agonizing over exactly how to acquire Tristan. She wanted his box, and to get it, she must first destroy his guan ren. But how? How did she accomplish those things when her magic continued to fail her? When Romulis continued to refuse her?
The answer lay in Romulis. He could not refuse her for long, for he had given her his vow. He must help her.
Scowling, she prowled through the empty, silent hallways, a meadow of arching walkways, sea-scented air and cool, midnight-colored marble flooring, a direct contrast to the alabaster columns that stretched to the high, high ceilings.
Because she did not acknowledge the lamori gems, they ignored her, enveloping her in darkness. But then, she did not need light; she knew the way. Knew all the palace residents slumbered peacefully in their beds. Because of their magic, they assumed no one possessed enough courage to stalk their hallowed halls. That complacency might one day be their downfall, she thought disgustedly.
Finally she reached Romulis’s private passage. She did not bother to announce her presence. She brushed past the wispy sheers and stormed inside. She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening. Her breath burned in her chest as she drank in the image Romulis presented.
He lounged in his bathwater, head reclined against the rim, dark hair in disarray about his shoulders. How utterly masculine he was. How beautiful.
When he saw her, he unabashedly eased to his feet. Her gaze traveled the length of him, all golden muscle and virile hardness. Rivulets of water trickled down the ridges of his abdomen, pooled in his navel, then caught in the dark curls surrounding his growing cock. He smelled of elsment, an aphrodisiac to their people, and she tried to hold her breath against his allure.
“What do you here?” he demanded with a calmness that belied the luminance in his eyes. He stepped from the opal tub and toward the bed, where his robe draped the bottom ledge.
Before he reached it, she closed the distance between them and gripped his shoulder. He spun around and faced her. Without a word, she pushed him backward until his knees hit the edge of his bed. And he let her. Though he possessed the physical strength to stop her, he allowed her the final push. He fell, naked, splayed atop the silkiness of the black furs.
Her legs suddenly felt heavy, and she wanted to sink into him. She fought past the urge and glared down at him. “You promised to help me. I demand that you do so.”
“My vow was not offered with a time constraint. I will aid you when I decide, not a moment before.”
“Arr!” she screeched. “You are worse than your father, always trying to thwart me.”
“Why must everything be about you?” Romulis crossed his arms under his head, his expression still relaxed, almost impassive. “What if I collect your debt to me now? What if I demand you forget Tristan and pleasure me?”
“Have you no pride?” she said, the words somehow foul in her mouth. “You would welcome my touch while I imagine you to be another man?”
His nostrils flared and his lips strained over the whiteness of his teeth. “Leave. Now. You are a greater fool than I, and I find I am tired of dealing with you.”
She stormed from the room. If she could not go to Tristan this night, she would just have to find a way to remind him of her ownership.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Never Ask Your Mistress For Anything. Instead,
Await Her Commands.
ON MONDAY, JULIA opened up the shop one hour and ten minutes late, which wasn’t bad in her estimation, considering she’d forgotten all about her business. Of course, she blamed Tristan for that. The man consumed her mind, body and heart. In bed and out.
Perhaps some of her preoccupation with him stemmed from the fact that she’d almost lost him. That she’d realized just how far Zirra would go to get him back.
Perhaps the same worries lingered in Tristan’s mind, because he remained mere inches away at all times, his eyes glued to the store safe, where she’d locked his box. Neither of them had wanted to leave the house without it.
No matter how much time passed without incident, he remained tense and guarded. Which she understood. But his mood continued to darken, and she couldn’t reason out why.
Why was she letting this darken her mood? She should be singing Disney songs. She was in love! Her. Julia Anderson. And she’d gotten laid. She’d had so many glorious orgasms she’d lost count.
Practically skipping now, she went to the register, lifted the candy canister and selected several pieces, all of them chocolate. A celebration treat. One bite teased and tantalized her taste buds, reminding her of Tristan.
Moments later, she felt Tristan come up behind her. Awareness rustled along her skin as his decadent scent enveloped her.
“Stop moaning,” he said fiercely, his warm breath tickling her ear. “You’re giving me ideas.”
Well, well. His mood had lightened.
“And if I don’t?” She faced him, fighting a rush of sensations between her legs. “You’ll spank me?” Where had this playful, flirty wanton come from? Awkward Julia had finally become a tease!
Gone was the intense guardian of the day. In his place was a man who only responded to the sensual. His heat bored into her, sending tingles of delight along her nerve endings.
“Aye,” he said. “I will spank you most soundly.”
He looked so beautiful, seething with sensuality, life and carnal intent. Huskily she said, “Not if I spank you first.”
He clasped a tendril of her hair between his fingers and smoothed it from her cheek. “Whatever happened to the shy maiden who tried to defend her honor with karate?”
“She took lessons from the master of seduction.” Laughing throatily, she ran her hands up his chest. “It’s too bad those lessons are completed.”
“How dare you say such a thing,” he replied with mock ire. “The lessons will never be complete. There is so much more I must teach you, it will take years. Decades!”
“Oh, really?” Dare she hope he craved decades with her? She teased the
waist of his jeans, then dipped lower to cup him. “What else do you need to teach me, hmm?”
He hissed in a breath. “That there is a penalty for teasing your man to start. That you are mine to end.”
Tremors plagued her.
“Now, if we do not change the subject,” he added, “I cannot be responsible for my actions.”
Though it required all of her strength, Julia pulled away from him. Her store was no place for a seduction. Not during working hours, at least. With a sigh, she glanced at the wall clock. “My landlord’s son is supposed to fix the bathroom pipes today, and he’s late. Big surprise. Since your knowledge is so advanced—” she almost choked on that one “—would you mind taking a look?”
“I do not mind.” He looked her over and licked his lips with wicked intent. “That is to say, I do not mind…if you will agree to pay me for my services.”
Still thrumming with excitement, she flicked her hair over one shoulder, acting nonchalant. “What kind of payment?”
“The lascivious kind, of course.”
She tried to appear reluctant, she really did. “Fine! Fix my pipes and I will let you go down on me,” she said, hoping her tone sounded less eager to him than it did to her. “But only because I’m desperate to have those pipes fixed.”
His eyes twinkled like Christmas lights. “I will take great pleasure in the receiving of my payment.”
As would she, she was sure. “Just out of curiosity, have you ever done any plumbing work?”
“Nay, but my knowledge is—”
“Sufficient. I know.” She anchored her hands on her hips. “I should probably supervise.”
“Let us get to work.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head, his deeply tanned muscles rippling with the movement.
Her mouth watered because she knew exactly how sweet that wealth of skin tasted. She’d licked every inch of it only this morning. If only he weren’t so handsome, so beguiling that even the air in her lungs burned for him. Not even six hours ago, the very body she was now ogling had been pressed up against hers, doing wonderful things to her.
The man needed only to remove one item of clothing, and she got hot for him. No, the man needed only to look at her, and she got hot for him.
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