Prince of Stone (Imperia)

by Gena Showalter

  “Nay, I do not.”

  “Are multiple wives a thing on Imperia?”

  He ran his tongue over his teeth before giving a stiff nod. “For some, aye, but I am not one of them. I will remain true to you, and you will remain true to me.”

  See! Commands. “I still don’t understand why you want to marry me. I’m not saying no, though.” When he brightened, she rushed to add, “I’m not saying yes, either. Not yet. I need time to think. And I know, I know. Time isn’t your friend right now. I’ll hurry, promise.”

  Though he projected disappointment, he nodded.

  Meanwhile, her mind went into Teen Girl mode. Mrs. Katie en Sarr. Wife. Mother? Or maybe she’d be known as Princess Katie en Sarr. Did an Imperian woman take the names of her husband. Dude. What if she was dealing with an Ofjorlan situation?

  “Right now,” she continued, her voice breaking at the edges, “I’m going on my jog. That’s a type of exercise where you run a far length.” She needed to jog. “While I’m gone, you can shower and change into your new clothes. When I get back, we’ll visit the locations on my list.”

  “I would rather jog with you.”

  At first, she thought to refuse him. Then she realized that getting higher levels of oxygen into his brain might actually do them both some good.

  She gave him a pair of Gray’s shorts and running shoes. As he changed, she kept her back to him and asked, “Are you sure you can keep up? I run most mornings, and you’re battling a mighty hangover.”

  An air of challenge radiated from him. “I will do more than keep up, katya, I will pass you. Twice.”

  Oh là là. Competition! “Prove it, then. If you can.”

  He stalked in front of her, his eyelids hooded. “What is my prize?”

  Her heart began to race as if she’d already run a marathon. “How about another night of free room and board?” she said with a sugary-sweet smile.

  “Nay. I want something else,” he said, giving her a languid once-over.

  Do not shiver—or reveal how happy you are that he’s insisting on something else. “How about a kiss, then?”

  A beat of silence. Then, “That is acceptable.” He took a step closer, leaned down and whispered in her ear, “If you win, I will give you a kiss, as well. Between your legs.”

  Air snagged in her lungs. As she sputtered for a response, he prepared for the run and strode outside. Her heart thudded as she followed, the morning cooler than usual.

  Did she want to win, or lose?

  They started off at an easy pace, side by side. Twenty minutes ticked by, and she held her own. They didn’t speak as they ran down a zigzag path about a mile from her home. The path circled a park designated specifically for runners. Strategically placed trees kept them shaded. Dew kissed the leaves, and flowers perfumed the air.

  They picked up the pace, and another ten minutes passed. Without slowing, Jorlan removed his shirt and draped the garment over his shoulders. She opened her mouth to complain that he now had an advantage because she was overheated, too, but she couldn’t remove her clothes without getting arrested for indecent exposure. That was a thing, right? Anyway. The words froze in her throat.

  So tan. So muscular. Mmm, mmm, mmm. Sweat glistened on his skin and caught in the ridges of his abdomen. The sight distracted her so much, she stumbled over a pebble.

  He chuckled and increased his speed, jetting ahead of her. Katie glared at his back. He’d distracted her on purpose, the cheater.

  I might get that kiss…

  Goose bumps spread over her limbs. She wanted that kiss. Needed it. But pride demanded she win their contest, dang it. Though her muscles burned and shook with every step, she, too, quickened her steps, soon catching up with him.

  Another ten minutes passed. Fatigue pitched a tent inside her, but still she didn’t slow. Unfortunately, Jorlan showed no signs of slowing, either.

  Huffing and puffing and hating herself for it, she said, “Are we going to run forever?”

  “I can,” was his casual reply. “Can you not?”

  “I totally can,” she growled, calling forth every ounce of stamina she possessed. This man was not going to beat her! If she lost, she’d only reinforce the “women are weak” rhetoric. But dang it all to heck and back, there had to be a way to end this.

  An idea formed at lightning speed, and she wasn’t the least bit surprised. With all the oxygen pumping through her, she could have calculated the atomic mass of oxygen while devising a plan to end world hunger.

  “Better luck next time, Jordie.” With that, she kicked into a mad sprint.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” He tried to pass her left side, but she veered in front of him, blocking his way. He moved to the right, but she anticipated the action and swerved to cut him off once again.

  In the end, Katie beat him to the door by half a second and nearly tripped over a newspaper on the top step of the porch. “I did it! I won.” The words left her riding short, choppy waves of breath. She would have laughed in his face, but her chest felt like a volcano spewing lava.

  “You should collect your prize right away, katya.”

  His suggestive tone made her heart and stomach flutter at the same time. “I—”

  A car eased up her driveway, the tires spitting gravel.

  Jorlan tensed and withdrew a small pair of sewing scissors from his pocket. Should have known he carried some type of weapon. At least he’d stayed true to his word and left the blades behind.

  The car parked behind her truck, Gray emerging from the driver’s side. Only then did Jorlan relax and sheathe the blade. But maybe he shouldn’t have? Her brother looked ready to commit murder.

  Her growing smile of welcome evaporated. “Is everything all right, Gray?”

  He remained quiet as another man exited the car. The two spoke in hushed, angry tones.

  “Do you know the other male?” Jorlan asked her.

  “No.” Whomever he was, he stood an inch or two shorter than Gray. Which meant he would only be an inch or so taller than Katie. He had dark brown hair and big puppy-dog-brown eyes.

  Women probably went crazy for him. Had Katie met him a couple days ago, she might have gone crazy for him, too. Now, her body wanted Jorlan, and only Jorlan.

  At last Gray moved to the porch. He didn’t make any introductions, just got straight to the point. “I did a reverse image search of his face, among other things, and learned Jorlan is not a romance novel cover model. He isn’t a model at all. I’m not sure what he is.” Though he directed his words to Katie, he watched Jorlan.

  Uh-oh. “He’s mine,” she said simply.

  Jorlan’s chest puffed up with pride. “I am hers.”

  “So you know what he is, but you won’t tell me?” Gray griped. “That has to mean he’s a drug dealer, or a pimp. Something illegal, and you fear I’ll arrest him.”

  “He hasn’t done anything illegal.” Probably. “You’ll just have to trust me when I say he’s not dangerous. Not to me, anyway. Or anyone I love. And now that that’s settled, you have exactly five seconds to apologize for your behavior, or I’m going to snap your neck like a twig.”

  The handsome stranger at Gray’s side snickered. “You said she was spunky, man. You didn’t say she was homicidal.”

  All piss and vinegar, as her grandma used to say, Gray said, “Katie, Jorlan, this is Steve Harris. Steve, this is my sister, Katie, and her friend Jorlan.”

  This was Steve? Katie thought, surprised.

  * * *

  THIS WAS STEVE? Jorlan thought darkly. The man Katie’s brothers wanted her to date?

  “Nice to meet you,” Steve said with a wave.

  “You, too.” Katie’s eyes were as wide as saucers.

  If she had interest in the male…

  Seething, Jorlan crossed his arms and chose to remain silent, letting his glare speak for him. It said, If you touch her, you will die screaming. Just in case Steve failed to get the hint, Jorlan draped an arm around Katie’s waist. A poss
essive and protective hold.

  She didn’t try to shake Steve’s hand, and Steve didn’t even try to shake hers. Therefore, Steve could live a little longer.

  “I can’t believe you’re so calm about this.” Gray rested his hand on the porch rail. “Do you never follow my advice, Katie? What am I always telling you?”

  Her brow furrowed as she pondered her response. Then she brightened. “Oh! Expect the worst of everyone, and I’ll never be disappointed when they fail me.”

  Gray scowled at her. “Not that.”

  “Watch your tone,” Jorlan snapped at him. Careful. Katie loved her brothers; she didn’t love Jorlan yet. Only a matter of time.

  Katie rested her head on his shoulder, telling Gray, “Are you referring to your ‘buckle up or die’ speech?”

  “Not that, either,” he said, pushing the words through gritted teeth.

  “Always carry Mace?”

  Mace?

  “Never get in a stranger’s van, even if said stranger has puppies or candy?” she continued. “When I’m in a physical fight, turn off the little voice in my head that says it’s wrong to hurt people and start hurting people?”

  Free hand fisting, Gray snapped, “That you should—”

  Jorlan took a step toward him, snapping back, “Tone.”

  “Yeah, Gray. Tone.” Katie wore a big grin.

  The male drew in a deep breath, then slowly released it. At a much softer volume, he said, “If you meet a guy, and he tells you he will only be in town for a week or two, he’s probably married and definitely lying to get in your pants faster.”

  “Jorlan isn’t lying, I promise,” Katie told him softly, sweetly. “Now get out of here. I’ve got things to do.”

  “I’ll go,” Gray replied, “but we’re not finished with this conversation.” He gazed over her shoulder and pinned Jorlan with an expectant stare. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Jorlan nodded, but Katie called, “No, you will not talk to him later.”

  Gray and Steve pretended not to hear, piling into their car and speeding away.

  Jorlan clasped Katie’s wrist and tugged her back to his side. “I do not like him.”

  “Who? Gray?”

  “Steve.”

  A laugh bubbled from her. “Your raging jealousy is cute but there’s no need for it. I’m only interested in a sexy otherworldly alien.”

  Relief crashed over him, bringing pride along for the ride. “A sexy otherworldly alien you will marry?”

  Her good humor faded fast. “I’m still not sure.”

  “Whether yes or no, whenever you are certain of your answer, you can collect your prize for winning our race.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I AM HOLDING her orgasm ransom, and getting nowhere fast.

  Three days passed since Gray’s visit, and Jorlan had yet to give Katie her prize. Every morning she told him, I’m still thinking about your semiproposal weighing the pros and cons, I just haven’t come up with a concrete answer yet. I’m sorry.

  Moving to Imperia might be a moot point, anyway. They’d met with twelve more psychics, all frauds. He’d begun to wonder if he’d have to spend his remaining days on Earth.

  The prospect should have frustrated him. Alas. Parts of him celebrated the chance to stay. Anything to keep Katie.

  They’d developed a routine.

  Morning: jog, then visit with four psychics.

  Afternoon: eat lunch, work at the Victorian.

  Evening: eat dinner, talk and watch television.

  Twilight: sleep, with Katie in the bed and Jorlan on the floor, and fantasize.

  Though his body and mind screamed that he tup her at last, he resisted. What was the Earth saying? Oh, aye. If she wanted the milk, she had to buy the cow.

  Something like that. He’d done his best to win her over with pleasantries and courtesies. But…his solicitous manners seemed to have the wrong effect on Katie. Rather than becoming desperate for his touch, she had retreated emotionally each day.

  The continued failure with Katie and the psychics had taken a toll, his calm demeanor nothing but a fragile veneer.

  Only nine short days remained until the curse turned him into a statue once again.

  He had to make Katie love him. Had to make her fall by whatever means necessary. But what could he try that he had not already tried?

  Pursue her sexually—done. Rouse her jealousy—done. Share his past with her, give her time, pursue a friendship—done, done, done. Yet, his efforts had gotten him nothing but disappointment.

  Curse the situation, and curse her! He’d offered her more than he’d ever offered another. What did she want from him? What was he missing?

  If only this day had not seemed destined for failure, as well. This morning, they were involved in a minor car crash. She’d clipped a stationary pole because “it came out of nowhere!” After meeting with the false psychics, they’d gone through a “drive in” to order food. He’d eaten some kid of breakfast sandwich, and promptly gotten sick. Plus, the new clothing he wore—the item Katie called “underwear”—was nigh smashing his man parts.

  He was not in a good mood.

  Worst of all, there’d been only two names left on their list of psychics. One had been nearby, the other about four hours away. An eight-hour trip in total. They’d decided to visit the close one today, putting their daily total at five rather than the usual four.

  Now they exited the building, into the too hot sunlight. Birds soared high above him, circling and searching for food. A soft wind danced about, carrying a gentle floral scent.

  “Well, that’s all of the close ones,” Katie said, shielding her eyes by pressing the side of a hand against her brow. “We have officially visited every psychic with halfway decent reviews. After we complete our work at the Victorian, I’ll put together another list tonight. Maybe we should visit the ones I discarded, just in case? Then, we can hit the out-of-town one over the weekend.”

  An ache erupted in the center of his chest. He’d endured too much misery for too long to continue down this path of failure. He needed a win. He needed a win today.

  “I would like to visit the out-of-town one today,” he stated. “I am willing to take your transportation and drive myself.”

  “Oh, you are, are you?” She rolled her eyes. “Too bad, so sad.”

  Before she realized his intension, he reached inside the pocket of her beige shorts. The innocent touch set off a chain reaction of sensation. His blood heated. His shaft hardened. All of him ached.

  “Hey! What are you doing?” She batted at his hand.

  He held up the key remote. “I will visit this location, and then I will return to you.” That said, he pivoted and stalked toward the parking lot.

  * * *

  KATIE PICTURED JORLAN crashing the car. Or being stranded on some isolated road, or worse, a populated town demanding everyone to obey his every command. Someone would take offense, there would be a fight, Jorlan would win—because, spatula—and the other person would die. Then Jorlan would be hauled to prison, where he would await trial. The government would find out that he came from another planet and all hell would break loose.

  She couldn’t let that happen.

  Katie raced behind him, swiped out her foot and tripped him. He crashed to the ground, collapsing like a condemned home. She moved quickly, rushing to snatch the fob while he righted himself. When she tried to dart out of reach, however, he gripped her ankle and yanked. She toppled, only to land atop Jorlan. How he’d managed to arrange that, she didn’t know.

  He flipped her over. Hovering above her, he smiled. Smiled! Then, he stood and walked away. Again!

  She pushed to an upright position, then climbed to her feet just as he reached the truck. “Wait!” She raced over and latched on to his arm. “Let’s work up a satisfactory compromise, okay?”

  “Warriors do not compromise.” He shook off her hold and strode to the driver side door.

  Not this again. She dashed in fr
ont of the vehicle, arms splayed wide. “You compromised with the weapons. You compromised with our sleeping arrangements.”

  He remained beside the open door, his expression unreadable. What had brought about this change in him?

  Finally he said, “I am sorry, katya, but I must do this.”

  Was he that eager to escape her world? Or her? Maybe he regretted his proposal? She had yet to give him an answer because she feared what would happen if she said yes.

  He didn’t love her. What would happen if they wed, then he met the love of his life? Would he grow to despise Katie?

  “You don’t know how to drive or which way to go,” she reminded him.

  “I will figure it out and find my way. While you have slept these past nights, I have studied your driving and your world’s maps.”

  So, he’d planned to ditch her all along? Ouch. “I’ll turn you in to the police for stealing my car.”

  He thought for a moment. Then, a wicked smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I suppose I’ll have to use force, katya.”

  A lump grew in her throat. “Force?”

  His eyes darkened as he lowered his chin, his gaze narrowing on her. The only warning she had. A second later, he seemed to take a step, only one, but he stood directly in front of her. She marveled at his speed.

  With only a minimal protest from her, he scooped her into his arms. She could have struggled or fought, but she didn’t want to injure him. His wicked grin returned as he dumped her into the passenger seat and resettled behind the wheel.

  “Now you will go with me,” he said confidently.

  Well, why not? Katie got comfortable, trying not to laugh as he keyed the ignition and started pushing pedals. The car jerked. Stopped. Jerked. Stopped.

  “Here. Let me.” She leaned over to take control of the wheel and maybe kinda sorta push him out of the seat, but he held fast, remaining in place.

  He managed to drive out of the parking lot without crashing.

  “If I see one car, even one, headed toward us,” she said, “I’m going to shove you out the door, no matter how many injuries you’ll sustain.” Or, maybe she’d press his carotid artery until he passed out. A little trick Gray had taught her. For now, they were alone on the road and she had time to gently make him rethink this. “By the way, you’re giving me whiplash.”