Prince of Stone (Imperia)

by Gena Showalter

  He strode ahead and threw a glance over his shoulder, his irises a smoky blue. “Mayhap next time you can return the favor and stroll naked in front of me, aye?”

  “Not even if you’re dying and it’s the only way to save you.”

  “Tsk, tsk,” he said, and winked. “Someone is telling a lie.”

  She would flip him off, but what was the point? He wouldn’t know what it meant. And oh, shi—poop! She’d kissed this man and set him free, which meant the burden of his care fell upon her shoulders.

  Inside, she watched as Jorlan darted about. He inspected the splintered wood floor, the peeling wallpaper on the walls and the tools she’d left scattered about.

  Meanwhile, Katie snatched a paint-splattered sheet from the floor and wrapped it around his shoulders. He didn’t thank her, but he didn’t protest either, so, win!

  Unfortunately, the colorful linen did little to detract from his potent allure. He looked like a toga-wearing god of sex and strength.

  “If we’re from different worlds,” she said, “how do you know my language?”

  Sounding angry, offended and amused all at once, he said, “Think you I could not conquer your primitive language whilst I whiled away the centuries?”

  The anger…she hadn’t doubted his intelligence. She’d merely wondered if he’d learned through magic. “Let’s see if I’ve clocked this correctly. You’re smart enough to learn an entire language, but not smart enough to learn about women’s liberation?”

  “You do not believe the strong should guide the weak?”

  “I don’t believe all men are strong and all women are weak. I believe everyone has strengths and everyone has weaknesses, and gender doesn’t matter.” Her fists clenched. “If you need another hands-on instruction, I’m thrilled to demonstrate my female empowerment.”

  “Will you be naked during this demonstration?”

  Okay, change of plans before she burst into flames. “Forget the demonstration. Are you thirsty? Of course you are. You’ve been unable to drink since the Stone Age. Stone Age. Get it? Anyway, I’ll get you something. There’s a cooler in my truck.” Not waiting for his response, she raced toward the front door.

  He uttered a soft chuckle and called, “Like it or not, katya, we are in this together.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  JORLAN EN SARR FELT the corners of his mouth kick up in a smile as he watched the little witch scamper off. And she was a witch. She’d heard his pleas for a kiss and sensed his urgency, something no one else had done during his millennia of confinement on Earth.

  Once, he’d cursed the lack of awareness. Now? He celebrated, thrilled Katie James had been the one to save him.

  The one he would bed.

  He was a healthy, lusty male, and too much time had passed since his last tupping. While he should have craved anyone, he hungered for Katie alone.

  Katie, with her mass of pale waves, big amber eyes and a “touch me/don’t touch me” demeanor.

  His amusement faded fast. He couldn’t allow an attraction to Katie to overshadow his primary goals: eternal freedom and cold-blooded vengeance against Percen de Locke.

  Jorlan needed to punish Percen, the most powerful sorcerer in the history of Imperia, and he needed to do it in the most painful way possible, finally ridding the galaxies of his brother’s existence. Hatred had festered over the centuries, becoming a bone-deep wound.

  Vengeance would be his.

  Over the spans, Jorlan had stroked the wound like a lover, embracing his darker urges with single-minded intent. He didn’t care why his brother had cursed him to a life of misery and desolation. He only cared about striking the bastard down.

  Did Percen still live? He must. Under the right circumstances, magic could sustain a sorcerer for eternity. Jorlan’s own mother had lived more than fourteen centuries as a priestess of the Druinn, the magic-wielders. Besides that, time flowed differently upon each world.

  A thousand years had passed here, but he had no idea if an equal amount of time had passed on Imperia.

  Either way, I will make him scream and beg for mercy.

  Once Jorlan’s curse was eradicated completely, he could return home. Once he returned home, he could deal with Percen.

  Home. Anticipation overtook him. In the woodlands of Imperia, majestic scents layered the air, no matter the season. Flowers bloomed all year, and trees never shed their leaves. Magic was lauded, and male domination expected. And accepted!

  By Elliea, he wanted to return home more than anything else in the world.

  The second he’d realized the stone shell had dissipated, Jorlan had given in to the homesickness and attempted a vortex-opening spell. But his powers had always been unstable, and he’d failed. A good thing. He had yet to accomplish the second requirement for breaking his brother’s spell.

  Unless and until he made the one who’d freed him fall in love with him, he would only taste of freedom for fourteen days. A cruelty on his brother’s part. A way to taunt and torture from afar.

  I will never return to stone. He would do whatever proved necessary to maintain his freedom, even seduce and leave the beautiful Katie James.

  He would seduce her.

  He would give her the greatest pleasure she’d ever known.

  He would win her heart.

  The very same three steps he’d once used to win Maylyn, his first love. Of course, loving her had been the biggest mistake of his life. Heartless wench.

  Already huffing and puffing with fury, Jorlan forced his mind back to Katie. Just like that, tension drained from him. A genuine surprise. Prickly Katie, a beauty he longed to tame, had the power to calm his mood. Why?

  Longing for her sizzled hotter than lightning. How to intrigue her best? She had responded to his nakedness, so, he would stay naked.

  With a flick of his wrist, he dropped the cloth she’d draped around his shoulders. The soft material whooshed to the floor. Then, he worked the lingering stiffness from his limbs, stretching his arms overhead and twisting this way and that. Blood rushed to his muscles; it hurt, but it hurt good.

  “I’m back,” Katie called. She marched into the unfurnished chamber holding two red containers.

  Lids hooded, he watched her cross the room. She had the legs of a warrior maiden: long, slender and firm. The kind he loved having wrapped around his waist. Or his head.

  Katie’s legs wrapped around me… His shaft throbbed. He’d been denied human contact for so long. Too long. He craved contact with every fiber of his being.

  The first time Katie had sauntered through the garden, he’d tried to ignore her; he hadn’t wanted his hopes to soar, only to crash. How many females had passed by him over the centuries? Countless. How many had touched or kissed him? Zero.

  Unlike the others, Katie hadn’t simply passed by him. Now something long forgotten stirred within him. Something infinitely tender.

  A curse blasted through his mind. No. No! He would not soften for this woman, would not allow himself to feel anything deeper than arousal. Would not open himself up to hurt and betrayal. He’d just gotten a second chance at life. He would enjoy it.

  Looking nervous and unsure, Katie anchored her hair mane into a ponytail. The grace of her movements enthralled him. The way she’d tossed him to the ground as if he were an insignificant pest, well, it was a feat no one else had ever managed.

  He was unwillingly proud. What skill she possessed! What strength. Once he had all that energy beneath him…or above him…beside or around him…

  The throbbing worsened. She had the sweetest curves, the succulent swells of her breasts and the generous flare of her waist the perfect fit for her unusual height.

  Her seduction, and subsequent avowal of love, would be a much-needed challenge. Not just for his freedom and his vengeance, but for his mind. What man could think clearly when his cock begged for attention?

  She came to a halt in front of him. “My eyes! The sheet! And stop staring at me like I’m a candy bar and you haven’t
eaten in years.”

  “I haven’t eaten in years.” Right now she wore a thin top and a pair of cropped drocs—jean shorts, he thought they were called. Her neck, collarbone and limbs were uncovered for his perusal. And peruse her he did. He counted eighteen freckles atop one shoulder, and twenty-three on the other.

  Did she have freckles hidden elsewhere?

  Must find out. Her features were not beautiful in the traditional sense. Nay, they were better. Arresting, sensual and bold. She had high cheekbones, a pert nose and sensual eyes framed by a fan of thick, sooty lashes. Those eyes possessed a slight upward slant, giving her a permanent take-me-to-bed expression. And her lips! By Elliea, the more he studied them the more he yearned to have them all over his body. Her lips were so lush, pink and full, she could launch an army into war with the promise of a single kiss.

  He would kill for another kiss.

  Expression a comical etching of incredulity, awe and embarrassment, she said, “I thought you understood that you absolutely must wear the sheet.” Even her voice appealed to him, sweet and husky. “You can’t just go around naked. You’ll be arrested for indecent exposure.”

  “You mean magnificent exposure.” The woman seemed to think it was her right, nay, her duty, to snap retorts and issue orders. While he applauded her spirit, he was a warrior first and foremost, and warriors did not take orders from anyone but the great lord. This particular warrior did not take orders from anyone. “I’m waiting to hear the word please.”

  “Just wear the sheet before I drop you on the ground a third time!”

  He scowled at her. Best she learn with whom she dealt! “You will ask me nicely, woman, and mayhap I will be gracious enough to comply, perhaps not. But you will not know if you do not ask, for I will do nothing until you do.” ’Twas not the way to seduce a woman, he knew, but it was becoming more and more clear that this woman was in dire need of guidance—his guidance—before the actual loving could begin.

  He would tame her, and later the males of her world would thank him.

  She bared her teeth. “I will not ask nicely. You will bend down, pick up the sheet and wrap it around yourself because it’s the polite thing to do, or you will leave my property.”

  “You think you have the skill to kick me out?”

  “I do. If I’m wrong, I have the skill to call my brothers and watch them toss you out.”

  The females of Imperia were docile and never spoke out of turn. How was he supposed to react to a tyrant like Katie? “I hope you enjoy the view, katya, for you will be seeing it all night.”

  He gripped his erection at the base. Aye, he remained hard in her presence. He stroked up…down…

  Her breath caught. “Please,” she ground out.

  Do not laugh. Who would have thought an inability to manage him would make this warriorlike female pout? Here, now, she amused him greatly. “With such a sweet concession, how can I refuse?”

  He retrieved the linen and secured it low on his hips—low enough to see the tip of his penis. Pre-come beaded there.

  Mutinous, she tossed him a container she’d retrieved from the truck. “Just drink your strawberry soda and shut up all right?”

  He caught the can with crisp, swift reflexes, his gaze remaining locked on hers. Perhaps, if they were to interact successfully, he should explain her behavioral deficiencies? “You are a woman. The weaker sex. I am a man, the stronger sex. In conclusion, I issue orders and you obey.”

  She laughed. Laughed! “Yeah, okay. I hope you’re cool with the idea of living and dying alone, because that’s the future in store for you, caveman.”

  Caveman? “Are you a psychic, then?”

  She threw her arms up and exclaimed, “Why do I bother?”

  He stroked his chin, enjoying the prickle of stubble. “Mayhap I handled this the wrong way. Maybe I should silence you…with my tongue.”

  Her amusement tanked in a flash. “I don’t know who you think you are—”

  “I do not think I am anyone. I know I am Jorlan en Sarr, one of only three regius.”

  Her jaw clenched, the muscles jumping, and her breathing turned shallow. “I don’t know what a regius is, but I have a couple guesses. One, an asshole.” She dug four small round coins from her pocket and tossed one into a glass jar set in the far corner. A clink rang out. “Two. A bastard.” Toss. Clink. “Three. A piece of shit.” Clink. “Four. A fuckwad.” Clink. “Had you been halfway nice, I might have welcomed that tongue-lashing you mentioned. Now? Try to kiss me, and I’ll bite off your tongue.”

  Such animosity, all because he’d fulfilled his role as head of household and explained the ins and outs of their association? But…he was a prince and the most coveted male in all of Imperia. Not to brag, but females fawned over him, fought for his attention, and dreamed of winning his heart. Why didn’t Katie?

  And why did he want her more now than before?

  Rather than chastising or threatening her—again—he pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, remaining quiet. But this was the last time he allowed her to speak so insolently without punishment.

  Anticipation fizzed in his veins. He would punish her with an entire night of orgasm denial. She would scream his name, curse his existence and plead for mercy he would not show. Only when the sun rose would he allow her to come, and she would thank him.

  A slow, wicked grin spread, the anticipation intensifying, consuming him.

  “What is this look?” she demanded, wagging a finger in front of his face.

  Your downfall, little witch. “Give me another order and you will find out.”

  Seconds passed as she floundered for a response.

  As he waited, he scrutinized his “soda” from every angle. Made of a shiny metal alloy unfamiliar to him. How was he supposed to remove the liquid? Poke a hole somewhere? There was a tiny hook flattened against the lid. To help rip it off?

  In the end, he decided to test his magical ability. He’d had success outside. Would he have success again? Waving his hand above the container, he uttered a spell. “Open now, this you will. Open now, and be unsealed.”

  Boom! The can exploded, red liquid raining over them both.

  With a scream, Katie leaped backward and clasped a hand over her heart. “Why did you do that?” she asked, wiping her eyes.

  Droplets clung to Jorlan’s lashes and dripped from the tip of his nose. “I was thirsty.”

  All of his life, he’d possessed a great well of magic. No matter how much he’d practiced or studied, he’d lacked control. A fact that sorely bruised his pride.

  “Next time ask me to help you, okay?” Katie popped the top of her container, using the little hook, then handed the beverage to him. “Here. Drink mine. I’m not really thirsty, anyway. And let’s make this a magic-free zone. My poor heart can’t take another scare.”

  He accepted what she offered and took a tentative sip. His eyes widened. Sweet. Fizzy. Delicious. “’Tis worthy of a king’s table,” he said, awed. “What other culinary wonders does this cursed world offer?”

  “I’d argue the word cursed—nah, never mind. We’re talking about modern America here, which means cursed fits.” She hooked errant strands of hair behind her ear. “I have a feeling you’ll go gaga for high fructose corn syrup. And chocolate. And fries. Oh! And cheesecake.”

  Jorlan’s empty stomach rumbled. He knew nothing about the foods she’d named, but he’d bet they were ambrosial. “You will prepare each item for me.”

  Her sandy-colored eyebrows drew together. “Oh, I will, will I?”

  Was she about to earn a punishment? Excitement mounted. “Aye. ’Tis so.” He nodded to assure her he meant what he said. “Woman, I am starved.”

  “Trust me. You do not want me shopping or baking for you. In my current mood, I’m certain my saliva will be the number one ingredient in everything you eat.”

  He preferred to get his saliva a different way, thank you very much. “In Imperia, seeing to a man’s needs is a woman’s onl
y purpose in life.”

  “Well, you aren’t in Imperia anymore. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my.”

  What did animals have to do with anything? I—”

  “Furthermore,” she interjected. “You, Jordie, are not—”

  “Jorlan.” Every time she shortened his name, he felt like a bothersome child.

  “—God’s gift to mankind.”

  “Or I am.”

  “Or you’re not. Do your muscles make smart girls stupid? Yes. Are you handsome? There’s no denying it without lying. But. Every time you open your mouth, your douchery knocks another point off your Not to Hot scale. Besides, if I want to get with an entitled prick, I role-play Tinderella and swipe right. Jordie.”

  Entitled prick? And what did she mean, Tinderella and swipe right? “What I gather from your speech is…you consider me handsome.”

  “That’s your takeaway?”

  “Why? Were you trying to make a different point?”

  Glaring now, she said, “If you’re hungry, you have an appetite. If you have an appetite, your body needs food to survive. How did you eat as a statue?”

  “I didn’t. Magic sustained me.”

  “Okay, great! You can cast another spell. There’s no way I’m cooking. I’d like us both to survive the night.”

  “You will provide me with a weapon to hunt our food, or you will provide me with your world’s cuisine. No other option is acceptable.” He leaned toward her and said, “Refuse and you’ll earn a punishment. And, Katie? I truly hope you earn a punishment.”

  Anyone else would have rushed to comply, either afraid of his wrath—or excited. Not his Katie.

  My Katie? Well, aye. Eternal freedom, remember?

  “You’re pretty close to earning a punishment yourself,” she muttered, playing nonchalant. She couldn’t mask her body’s reaction to his words, her breaths quickening, and the color returning to her cheeks.

  Passion-fever? Katie…denying him an orgasm…aye. Sign me up.

  The urge shocked him. Never, in the whole of his existence, had he craved such a thing. He’d always relished his role as a warrior prince, refusing to relinquish a single microcosm of control or power.