Prince of Stone (Imperia)

by Gena Showalter

  Where to begin? “How did you make the stone disappear in a snap of time?” She snapped her fingers for emphasis.

  As she waited for a response, the fine lines around his mouth pulled taut. Would she hear phrases like “new next-door neighbor,” “trap door” and “silver paint”?

  One minute bled into another, silence reigning.

  Her sense of unease intensified. When she could stand it no longer, she blurted out, “Make the impossible make sense. And don’t tell me magic is responsible.” Nerves more frazzled by the second, she peeked at him through the thick shield of her lashes. “Be honest.”

  His eyes glittered with hints of silver as he snaked her arms around her waist. “Magic is responsible, and I would be lying if I said otherwise.”

  Her body reacted of its own volition, heedless of her will, melting into him. Her mind followed suit, crafting images of naughty kisses, roaming hands and wet panties. New shivers racked her.

  Okay, she needed to escape this man soon…ish and think, think, think before she did something crazy. Like throw herself at him and demand he “put her in her place.”

  When she moved to extract herself from his embrace, however, he tightened his hold.

  Annoyed, she commanded, “Let me go.”

  An-n-nd he tightened his hold again. “I am not finished proving my point. Little girls like you should not play with big warriors like me.”

  Little? Little! That had to be the absolute sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her.

  Do not soften. Must stay mad. “I’m warning you, Muscles. Let me go before I show you the skills of Mr. Lee’s best student.” Well, second best. Fine! If you factored in other students, she’d been last best.

  “I know not this Mr. Lee, but I am certain that he and his students are no match for me.” With a single yank, Jorlan fit Katie more snugly against him. Hardness to softness. Cool cotton to heated flesh.

  Far from cowed or charmed, she let her anger jack straight into fury. Eyes narrowed, she bit out, “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

  Katie prepared to knee him in the groin.

  Then he squeezed her butt, kicked her ankles apart and fit one of his legs between hers. “Allow me to demonstrate my skills of persuasion,” he all but purred.

  The beautiful jerk rocked his knee against her core, and those damp panties she’d imagined became a reality.

  Pleasure shot through her. Mmm. Yes, yes! More! Her blood became molten lava, an inferno setting her ablaze. Still rocking… The bliss!

  He palmed one of her breasts, startling her. But also electrifying her. Her knees weakened, right along with her will to resist.

  She prayed he didn’t notice her mounting desire.

  A dark brow rose, taunting her. Oh, he’d noticed all right. Rolling her distended nipple between his fingers, he said, “Have you, mayhap, changed your mind about the bedding?”

  Yes! “No,” she forced out. “Let me go, Jorlan. Now.”

  “You wish to be free of me? Very well.” As if he were the last sane man in the universe, he held his hands up in surrender and stepped back.

  Though disappointed by his compliance, she darted out of range while she had the chance. Disappointed? Seriously? “Touch me again, and you’ll be sorry,” she said, her teeth gritted.

  Was she more angry with him…or herself?

  A husky chuckle rumbled from him. “Perhaps I’ll be sorry, but I’ll be the only one. You’ll be euphoric. Arousal still burns bright in your eyes, sweet katya, and your body trembles anytime I near you.”

  “How dare you.” Yeah. How dare he speak the truth. “There’s a fine line between arousal and hatred. Guess which way I’m leaning. And I’m trembling from cold. Definitely cold.” Despite the midseventies temperature.

  “Is freezing what your world calls a desire to tup nowadays?”

  “Tup?” she asked, though she had a sinking suspicion she already knew the answer.

  First, he unveiled a half grin. Then, a full-fledged one. So gorgeous. He freaking stole her freaking breath.

  Voice like sin, he told her, “To tup is to have sex. Make love. Have intercourse.”

  “Thanks for clarification,” she replied, tone as dry as the desert. Wait. He’d asked her a question. What, what? Oh, yeah. Freezing. “Go tup yourself.”

  He laughed. “I plan to. Often.” Emboldened, he raked his gaze over her, making her feel as if he’d removed every stitch of her clothing in the process. “Wishing I had ignored your command and continued to touch you, katya?”

  Yes. No. Maybe? She scowled. Maybe he was some type of incubus, who emitted a powerful pheromone able to seduce anyone in seconds. “My name is Katie, not Katya.”

  “You are a katya to me. A—” he paused, as though searching for the right description “—little witch.”

  Her jaw went slack, then closed with a snap. Instead of being pleased that the endearment didn’t mean “pleasure slave” or “easy lay,” she was kind of insulted. Witch, as in massive bitch? “Would you like it if I called you Giant Bastard?” Great! Now she had to remember to drop a quarter in the swear jar.

  “Call me whatever you wish.” His grin returned with an indulgent slant, his eyes glittering seductively. “But be warned. Utter a sharp sobriquet, and I will make you kiss the sting away. After all, it is a woman’s duty to pleasure her man.”

  A woman’s duty? “I’m being punked, aren’t I?” If he was serious…

  He would learn soon enough. She was a woman, yes, but she was not a doormat.

  “Look,” she told him, “I’d appreciate it if you’d nix the pleasure talk. I’m a lot of things, but a one-nine-hundred number isn’t one of them. Unless you’re willing to pay a thousand dollars a second. No? Anyway. Help me understand what happened to the stone or…” Once again she left a threat open-ended, allowing his imagination to fill in the blank.

  “What is there to understand?” He closed the distance, using a steady, predatory pace, as if he couldn’t tolerate another moment without human contact. “You broke the first part of my curse, katya, setting me free. To break the rest of the curse, you must give me your heart.”

  Her mind tossed out a single thought: Naked man approaching, naked man approaching! She darted to the left. He followed.

  “I warned you not to touch me.” Now she darted to the right. Again, he followed.

  By the time she stopped, a prickly bush pressing against her back, they were only a whisper apart. His body heat enveloped her.

  “Don’t worry,” he said softly. “I’ll wait until you beg me for it.”

  Gulping, she gazed up at him. Beg him? Never!

  Probably never.

  Maybe under certain circumstances.

  As she debated inside her head, the scent of sandalwood and raw, male virility penetrated her awareness. If this continues, I will for sure beg.

  “How kind of you,” she mocked. “In return, I’ll extend you the same courtesy. If I start beating you up, I’ll stop just as soon as you beg me. M’kay?”

  “You beat up me?” He threw back his head and laughed. “Good luck with—”

  She hooked her foot behind his knee. Heart racing, she yanked. As he collapsed, she twisted and latched on to his arm, then shoved him. When he hit the ground, he hit hard, all that muscle and brawn weighing him down. What he didn’t do? Pause to take a breath.

  In an instant, he jumped to his feet and fronted on her, menace radiating from his pores. “Obviously, you have what I have heard your people refer to as beginner’s luck. If you tried such a move again—”

  Hook. Yank. Shove.

  Katie grinned down at Jorlan, who lay flat on his back. “You were saying?”

  He stood, everything from his expression to his tone broadcasting his wish to retaliate somehow. Yet he merely glared and huffed. “Do not strike at me again. Next time I won’t be surprised. However, I will respond with a kiss.”

  So…he wanted her to do it again? “Just maintain your dista
nce, and we won’t have a problem.”

  Even as his lips thinned with displeasure, he gave a stiff nod. Another surprise—easy compliance. “How did you learn such a trick?” he asked.

  “Hard work.” Inhale, exhale. Her heartbeat began to slow at last. Good, that was good. Forcing herself to peer somewhere, anywhere, else was another matter entirely.

  Thick scars formed a random pattern across his abdomen, and damn—dang if they didn’t add to his appeal. A dark whorl of hair surrounded his navel, and pointed down, leading to his jutting shaft.

  Do not look down. Not again.

  Oops. She looked down, drooled and prayed he didn’t notice.

  He gave her another slow, knowing perusal in return. Oh, yeah. He’d noticed.

  Katie cleared her throat and did her best to ignore the newest burn of embarrassment in her cheeks. “Tell me more about this supposed curse.”

  Bitterness hardened his features, and she felt a twinge of guilt for mentioning a painful subject.

  “That need not concern you,” he said.

  Oh, really? “Do you want my help with the psychic or not?” A girl had to use the cards she had in hand.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Percen de Locke is my brother and a powerful sorcerer. He cursed me, trapping me inside a stone casing. I could hear, see and feel everything around me, yet I was unable to respond…until a fair maiden’s kiss set me free. Temporarily.”

  Yeah, right. That kind of thing occurred in fairy tales, books, movies and mythology, not reality. But…

  What if he had told the truth?

  No, no. Absolutely not. It was make-believe, nothing more, nothing less. Because, bottom line? Katie Isabella James was no Princess Charming.

  She drummed her fingers over her arms and said, “You wouldn’t, by chance, have powers of your own? You know, to prove your story.”

  He did the whole brow arching thing, all, You’re staring at the magic right now, baby doll. “What of my instantaneous transformation?”

  Yeah, what about it? “That could have been faked. I’m gonna need something more.”

  “You’ll think anything I do is faked.” Still, he thought for a moment, evincing a sense of mounting irritation.

  “Can you prove your story or not?” she insisted.

  His irritation only sharpened, and maybe acquired a tagalong: frustration. He heaved a heavy breath. “My statue has moved from one garden to another for centuries. Though this one is remote, I have encountered a wide variety of mortals. You are a species that relies on logic, rejecting anything you cannot rationalize, never understanding your limited life experiences do not paint a full story.” A pitying light entered his incredible eyes. “Your people fear magic because they do not understand it and therefore cannot control it. Where I hail, both great lord and peasants laud mystical abilities, though only those in the upper classes wield it. So aye, I wield magic, and I can prove it.”

  So much info to unpack. No doubt Jorlan had a position in the “upper classes,” which explained his air of entitlement.

  Was “great lord” another title for a king?

  “You are right,” she admitted. “I’m often guilty about reshaping a truth to fit my narrative, rather than accepting I don’t see all, don’t know all, don’t comprehend all.”

  Her easy agreement put a look of astonishment on his face, and she—

  Hold up! Something he’d said chose that moment to reverberate in her mind. A sense of impending doom slithered down her spine. Ice branched through her veins, and she frowned. “You, uh, mentioned studying my world. You meant another state, country or continent, right?”

  “Nay. To me, world means celestial body, planet or star.” As he spoke, a glaze of sadness spread over his irises. He appeared…vulnerable.

  Jorlan, vulnerable? Please! So why had her chest constricted with sympathy?

  “For me,” he added, “world means Imperia, my home.”

  Imperia. Em-peer-ee-ah. “Never heard of it. Is it Eastern European or something?” Granted, geography had never been her greatest talent. Nor had math, science or history. The only subjects she’d aced had been English, PE and home economics. The only subjects that mattered, yo!

  “Mayhap I can show you Imperia.” He held up a hand and closed his eyes, intense concentration etching his features. As she watched, a small colorful globe materialized above his palm, spinning slowly. Around it, three smaller globes formed a half-moon. Every inch was exquisitely detailed, and each orb somehow appeared solid but also translucent. “Touch it.”

  Tentative, she reached out to trace her fingertips over the largest globe. It was solid and amazingly warm.

  A second later, vivid pictures flashed in her mind, boom, boom, boom, one after the other as if she were flipping through an album on a cell phone, and she gasped. She saw crystal castles and a violet skyline, with dragon-like creatures soaring through pink clouds. Trees towered in every direction, limbs bowed by bejeweled fruit. Blankets of white grass billowed in a gentle, dew-kissed breeze.

  His expression tightened, making her suspect he was using every ounce of his strength to create the globes. First, they wavered, then they vanished altogether, and he dropped his arm to his side.

  Duuuude. He’d told the truth. Imperia wasn’t a country but a planet, and magic legit existed. No mortal could conjure such a wondrous, tangible apparition.

  “You have magic powers, and you’re an alien.” She blinked, then blinked again, now seeing images of spaceships and bedlam in her head. “You’re an alien, and you have magic powers. Alien, magic. Magic, alien.” She thought, hoped, if she said it a thousand times, her shock would finally fade, but…nope. “You don’t look like a creature from another planet.”

  “Just what does a creature from another planet look like, then?”

  “Green skin. Large black eyes that look at you as if you should be flat on a table, naked and spread-eagle for a probe. A long, slimy body, with extra-long, lanky limbs.”

  “I have encountered only one race who looks as you describe.” He shrugged. “They travel from world to world, on the hunt for knowledge and enlightenment.”

  And butts to probe. What? Truth was truth. “Speaking of traveling to different worlds. How did you get here?” Katie mentally patted herself on the back. Here she was, conversing with an alien instead of curling into a fetal ball, and drinking white wine from a baby bottle.

  He flicked his tongue over an incisor. “Hoping to aid me, my mother opened a vortex between my world and yours.”

  A vortex. Another word for portal or wormhole?

  Eyes widening, she looked from one statue to another. At the moment, there were seven males and three females within her sightline. Were they from Imperia, too, just waiting for a kiss to come alive?

  Jorlan’s husky chuckle filled the space between them.

  Uh-oh. Had she inadvertently spoken aloud? Totally possible. To be honest, Katie was too discombobulated to keep track of her actions, beliefs, words or thoughts.

  “I am the only one,” he assured her. “The others are merely stone.”

  Relief caused her shoulders to slump. No way she would survive awakening another male like Jorlan. “What’s your last name?”

  “Imperians do not have last names. We have designations and titles. I am Jorlan en Sarr, first in command of great lord Gui en Sarr’s army.”

  En Sarr must be a military designation, since he led an army. “Well, I do have a last name. I am Katie James, first in command of James Real Estate.”

  “Kaay-tee.” Though he’d spoken her name long before this, he dragged out the vowels, as if saying it for the first time. He nodded with approval. “Similar to katya. Such a name suits you well.”

  Okay. Maybe “little witch” wasn’t an insult where he was from?

  A night wind drifted by as she said, “Look. Now that I know you’re not planning to harm me…” He’d had ample time to try to harm her, but hadn’t. “You’re not, are you?”

 
“I am not,” he replied, offended. “I swear to Elliea.”

  Elliea. The Imperian word for God? “Then I’d like to extend an invitation to you. Come inside the house, and we’ll continue our conversation there.” Where she could cover his erection with a sheet.

  Was he still hard? She looked down.

  Still hard as steel. Her cheeks blistered with mortification…and stronger arousal.

  “I would be happy to go inside with you…after you vow to help me locate a sorcerer tomorrow.”

  So he thought he could use her own tricks against her?

  Another breeze blew by. “Well?” Jorlan asked. Obviously, patience was not one of his skills.

  “It’s hard to concentrate when you’re—” she searched her mind for a proper description “—waving around like a flag. For goodness’ sake, cover yourself with a leaf or something.”

  He looked at his shaft, then her, and arched a brow, all, Hide this? Then he shrugged, unabashed. “I think we can also agree you love looking at my body. And don’t try to deny it, katya. You’re staring at it even now.”

  Oh, crap! She was. Jerking her gaze up, she told him, “It’s just that the men of my world are so much…bigger.” This little witch would make him regret teasing her.

  He gave a rough growl, and she swallowed a laugh. “No one is bigger!” he grated.

  Score: Katie—1, Jorlan—0. “I’ll take you to a psychic tomorrow. You have my word. Happy now?”

  “Nay.” He canted his head and worried a hand over his jawbone, his gaze guarded. “I am unsure why I requested such a vow from you. Women cannot be trusted to honor their word.”

  Katie rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky I’m feeling gracious, Jordie. I’m going to allow you to live despite your chauvinistic remark. Now, come on. Let’s hustle inside.” She batted her lashes at him and twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “Unless you plan to break your word.”

  “I will never break my word,” he ground out, his tone iron hard. “Not now, not ever. My honor is too important to me.”

  Easy to say, difficult to prove. “After you, then.” She waved him on, partly because she didn’t trust him behind her, partly to watch his butt as he walked.