Prince of Stone (Imperia)

by Gena Showalter

  Something had happened. Maybe she’d spent a night similar to Katie’s? Her skin glowed with satisfaction.

  “Heather?” Frances prompted.

  “Huh? What?” The girl snapped to attention, straightening and shaking her head. She glanced at Jorlan, then looked away, pretending he didn’t exist. “Sorry. Yep. Ready to work.”

  How odd. What thoughts spun the wheels inside Heather’s brain?

  Katie led the group inside.

  Behind her, Frances gasped. “Oh, this place is lovely, Katie.” She paused. “Or it will be when everything is fixed, but I can already picture it.”

  “Katie will make this a spectacular residence,” Jorlan said, prideful. He gazed at her with awe. “She is good at everything she does.”

  The café owner gave him a strange look, as if she’d never heard such praise spill from a man’s lips.

  “Heather,” Katie said, “your mother mentioned that you have a talent for gardening.”

  Heather nodded, hesitant. “I guess I do.”

  “Great. The backyard is a mess. There are statues everywhere, and they are, uh, in suggestive positions. Just ignore them—if you can. Pull weeds and fertilize the garden today, and you can plant whatever flowers you want tomorrow.”

  Rich brown eyes stared up at her with a fragile optimism that struck Katie as fresh and new. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

  Pang. “What tools do you need?”

  “Gloves, a hoe and a shovel.”

  “Perfect. Everything you need is in the backyard shed.”

  Heather bounded off, whistling under her breath, and Katie turned her attention to Frances. “I’d like you to work in the front yard, if that’s okay.”

  “Absolutely!” Frances clapped and jumped with excitement. “What do you think of morning glory, lilies and lavender all around the porch? And maybe a trellis by the north wall?”

  “I think that sounds wonderful. In fact, grab Heather and you guys take my truck to buy whatever you need at Garden Warehouse. Put everything on my account. Or, if Heather prefers to stay, get a list of wants and needs from her.”

  Beaming, Frances said, “I can never thank you enough for this, Katie.” With that, she accepted the truck keys and skipped out the door.

  “What shall I do this day?” Jorlan asked.

  Katie’s first impulse was to say, Do me! Do me! In his jeans and too-tight T-shirt, he was so dangerously appealing, he should be arrested.

  Chores first. mooning second. Maybe. “Why don’t you go with Frances and Heather?” she suggested. “You can help them carry the heavy items.”

  His brow creased, as if he was in pain. “If I have to listen to one more man joke, I will not be responsible for my reaction.”

  Katie chuckled. “For every man joke you’re forced to endure, I’ll give you a reward.”

  “Goodbye,” he blurted, then he kissed her cheek and raced to the door.

  Had a more perfect man ever been created? Laughing, she called, “Don’t mention that you’re from another planet, okay? You do, and we’ll both be locked away.”

  At the words “locked away” he paused. “I would love to be locked away with you.”

  “That’s great, but we wouldn’t be together. Men are kept separated from women,” she explained, still grinning. “Now get out of here.”

  His features hardened, his expression suddenly ferocious. “I do not wish to be parted from you…ever, Katie James.” That said, he strode out of the house, leaving her reeling.

  * * *

  KATIE TAPED UP the baseboards and upper trim of the main bedroom walls, preparing them for painting. After completing one small section, she decided not to use the paint sprayer. She wanted a more personal touch for this house, kind of like the signature artists left on their canvases.

  Her mom had been an artist, who’d specialized in landscapes. Sometimes Katie had contributed to her work.

  A well of tears burned her eyes, surprising her. Tears? Now? Well, yeah. She missed her mom so much, she tended to shy away from thoughts of the woman or her art.

  But, for the first time in forever, Katie had a desire to paint again, a design or mural rather than a single color.

  Murals were a big no-no for most house flippers. The more generic you made the house, the more people could see themselves living in it. Besides, everything was subjective. What one person loved, another would hate, and vice versa. But…

  I’m still gonna do it.

  Forty-five minutes later, she had an array of colors ready for her use. She was popping the top of the taupe paint when Jorlan trudged up the stairs and entered the room on a scented cloud of lavender and lilies.

  “Frances would like to know what you think of these,” he said, skipping pleasantries. He looked exasperated but determined. “By the way, you owe me three rewards.”

  A laugh burst from her. This man, oh, this man. He was adorable, and he was hers.

  Her heart flip-flopped, and she realized with the speed of a bolt of lightning and the intensity of a clasp of thunder that she didn’t just want him to be her man. She wanted him to be her man permanently. Wanted him to stay on Earth, and never return to Imperia, his home.

  Lord help me. What had she done? What the hell had she done? Had she fallen in love with him?

  The moment she fell in love with him, his only reason to remain on Earth would dissipate. He’d only need to find Mon Graig or another sorcerer.

  Katie fought a wave of rising panic. I haven’t done anything. Everything will be all right. While she cared for Jorlan, and desired him with every fiber of her being, she hadn’t fallen in love with him. Nope. Not even a little. Which meant he had to stay here with her a while longer. He couldn’t leave her—yet.

  Her shoulders rolled in, a weight lifting from them. See! Everything will be all right. She ignored the twinge—avalanche—of guilt that accompanied her thoughts.

  “Jorlan—” she began.

  He must have caught the trembling in her voice. He set the flower tray on the floor, his gaze remaining on her. “What has placed that look of terror in your eyes, katya?”

  You! “I just—I don’t…”

  He arched a brow and crossed his arms over his chest, his stubborn streak coming out to play. The very streak that had irritated her at their first meeting. Now? It filled her with calm.

  “What are you trying to say?” He came to her then, glided a fingertip across her cheekbone. His touch was so gentle, so reassuring. “Whatever the problem, I will do everything in my power to help you.”

  Yeah, she knew he would. And it was one of the reasons she lo—liked him so much. She took him by the shoulders, her nails digging deep. “Just kiss me. Kiss me now and make me forget.”

  Without a word, he lowered his lips to hers.

  * * *

  PERCEN GLARED DOWN at the embracing couple, both enraged and joyous. Joyous because Jorlan did not desire Heather. Enraged because Jorlan would not suffer now that Percen had claimed the redheaded temptress as his own.

  For the moment, he concentrated on the joy, a completely foreign emotion to him. An emotion he attributed to Heather. Since leaving her this dawning, he’d thought of little else. And he’d wondered…could she be the one his mother had spoken of? The sole woman who could see past his scars to the man he truly was?

  Yestereve, Heather hadn’t seemed all that impressed with his mystical beauty. The mask he’d donned using magic. Nay, she’d craved only his warmth, his presence. Two things he could give her, whether ugly or gloriously handsome.

  Percen gazed up at the ceiling, pensive. Did he possess the courage to try and win Heather’s heart? Did he even want to, now that she played no part in Jorlan’s punishment?

  The answer came swiftly and unequivocally. Aye. He wanted her more than he wanted his leg untwisted.

  He’d spent only one night with her, yet she’d stirred feelings inside him that he’d never thought to experience. Happiness, aye, but also contentment. ’T
was ironic, really, that he felt so deeply for a mortal when he’d often hated his mother for doing the same with his stepfather.

  Would Heather want him when she saw his true face?

  At the moment, the answer didn’t, couldn’t, matter. As long as Jorlan lived, Percen would never have lasting happiness with Heather or anyone.

  ’Twas past time he ended the war between him and Jorlan. But how? He didn’t want Katie, and could not stomach the thought of doing everything in his power to win her affections. And it wouldn’t do just to turn Jorlan into stone again, before the curse could take effect again. Mayhap…

  Oh, aye, he thought, his eyes narrowing. Mayhap the pain he sought for his brother was not the jealous rage that he himself constantly battled. Mayhap what he should do, must do, would do, was physically hurt the woman who so clearly claimed Jorlan’s affections.

  Percen’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. Aye. He had a plan. Now to execute it…

  * * *

  JORLAN JERKED AWAY from Katie, abruptly ending their kiss. Magic was enveloping him, crackling against his skin. He had not cast a spell, yet power hummed around him just the same.

  “What’s wrong?” Katie asked, concerned. Her lips were parted with desire, puffy and red. Kissable.

  Focus. He scanned the room. There was no one save he and Katie in the chamber. There was no furniture, either, where someone might hide. Only paint tins and brushes were scattered about, and some sort of transparent material that covered the floor.

  Katie gripped his forearm. “Jorlan? Tell me.”

  “There is…” His words tapered off, for the magic evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. Curse it, what was going on? Was he being watched? By whom? And why?

  Or, was the curse getting stronger as it prepared to overtake him?

  Desperation twisted his belly, and a cold sweat broke out across his brow. He pierced Katie with a glare. “Do you love me?” The words exploded from his mouth.

  “I—I can’t…I shouldn’t…” She shook her head, her eyes filled with sorrow and regret. “No, not yet. I’m sorry.”

  More panic. More desperation. There had to be a way to gain her affection quickly. “Your brother mentioned a family gathering on Saturday.”

  She nodded, flowing with the subject change. “Yes. It’s tomorrow.”

  “I would like to go.” He could prove his worth to her family. Surely Katie would love him for it.

  Slowly, his muscles relaxed.

  Her eyes widened, and her jaw went slack. “You’re eager to meet my dad?”

  “Aye.” Very much so.

  “Well, are you sure?” she asked. Even still, hope danced in her beautiful hazels. “He’s bossier than I am, and he’s arrogant. He throws tantrums upon occasion.”

  “I would still like to meet him.”

  A pause. Then she said, “I’ll think about it,” but she was smiling brighter than the sun.

  That smile proved to be his undoing.

  Jorlan pulled her back into his arms and didn’t let her go until they were both panting with desire.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  KATIE DIDN’T HAVE TO think long about whether to take Jorlan to the luncheon or leave him behind. The answer screamed inside her head. Yes, yes, yes! So she’d never before introduced a boyfriend to her father, and she had no idea how he’d react. So what. So she wanted Dad to meet and love Jorlan. To approve of her life. Finally! So what. If Dad didn’t love Jorlan and didn’t approve of Katie, no big deal. A want wasn’t a need, and she would survive either way.

  Right? Right. At the moment, she and her sexy alien were seated in her truck speeding along the highway. Jorlan had no idea what he’d gotten himself into, of course, but she’d tried to warn him. His determination to spend the day with her family remained unwavering. And yeah, okay, it made her care for him all the more.

  “Will there be ‘lick her’ at this gathering?” he asked. He tugged at his seat belt, still uncomfortable with being locked down. Another trait she found endearing.

  “Oh, yes. There’s always lick-her at a James family gathering. Anyone who has too much just stays the night. I even thought about spiking their drinks. After all, they need to pay for what they did to us. In the end, I went a different direction with our revenge.” Smug, she patted the bag at her side.

  Before long, her father’s house came into view. While the redbrick structure was larger than most homes in the neighborhood, it had an off-putting bomb shelter appearance. Which kind of described her father, too. Anyway.

  Five cars occupied the winding driveway, each a different make and model, depending on the owner. Katie parked her truck as close to the driveway’s exit as possible, not wanting to be blocked in without an escape hatch.

  “Are you ready for this?” she asked Jorlan.

  “Aye. Ready. Eager.”

  That makes one of us. “I just want to warn you again. My dad is a very…opinionated man.”

  “I wonder how his daughter became so pliable, then,” Jorlan teased.

  “Ha-ha. Very funny.” Instead of leading him to the porch, she grabbed the plastic bag she’d brought and strode directly to the sedan owned by Nick, her first victim of the day.

  She raised the hood. Jorlan peered over her shoulder, casting a shadow over the engine. “What are you doing?”

  “Ruining his day.” With that, she dumped baby powder scented with deer urine into the ventilation system. She did the same to all of her brothers’ vehicles. “When they turn on their air conditioners to cool off, they’ll be blasted with the urine-doused powder.”

  Jorlan grinned. “Remind me never to make you angry.”

  “But why? I’m just a sweet, innocent girl.” She batted her lashes and he laughed.

  They walked hand in hand to the porch. The front doors were oak and had elongated silver handles in the shape of the number eight. Music blared from speakers, fast-paced and raucous without a noticeable rhythm. Not bothering to ring the bell, since no one would hear her anyway, she led Jorlan through the house. From the floral print ottoman to the cream-colored lace curtains, every decoration remained positioned exactly how her mother had liked them.

  Everyone congregated in the backyard to play basketball. Even her dad had donned shorts and a bandana for the festive occasion.

  The dark blue bandana wrapped around his head, making him look like a slightly older version of her brothers instead of an aging heart-attack patient in waiting. Sunlight streamed down, hot and dry; unfortunately, no breeze meandered by to cool them off. Weeds dominated the yard, the roses and azaleas that had once lined the fence withered.

  “Katie,” her dad called when he saw her.

  As one, her brothers halted in different stages of play to glance over at her.

  Nick raced to the patio table to turn down the music.

  Her dad hesitated a moment, before striding over, his long legs closing the distance quickly. He tentatively kissed her cheek. “Hi. Hello. It’s nice to see you, Katie. How have you been, girl?”

  Just peachy. I’m sleeping with an alien and a curse hangs over our heads. “Can’t complain.” The circumstances might suck, but she’d gotten a prize out of the deal, so, win. And how odd was it to see and speak with her dad after all this time?

  “Good, good.” His golden-brown eyes lit on Jorlan and narrowed. “You brought a friend?”

  Heart racing, she said, “Dad, this is Jorlan en Sarr. Jorlan, this is Ryan James, my father.”

  The two shook hands. “I’ve heard about you,” Dad said, and judging by his tone, the information hadn’t been good. “You may call me Detective James.”

  “Dad, you’re no longer on the force,” she reminded him. Not that a reminder would do any good. He made everyone call him detective, even his sons.

  “Doesn’t matter.” He wiped his sweaty cheek with the back of his wrist. “I earned the title and deserve the respect that comes with it. Boys, say hello to our guest so we can finish our game.”

 
; Jorlan had been officially dismissed.

  Yikes. It was safe to say things were not off to a good start.

  None of her brothers had expected her arrival, obviously, because they now stood in a row, shoulder to shoulder, staring at her, as if uncertain how they would be received by her. Also, they wore equal expressions of guilt and shame. Well, except for Nick, who grinned as if he was having the time of his life.

  “Hey, Jorlan,” Erik finally said, deciding to ignore her altogether, the jerk.

  “Hey,” the others called. Gray even gave Jorlan a stiff nod. Sweet progress.

  Here’s praying everyone walks away from this.

  * * *

  “GOOD DAWNING TO YOU,” Jorlan responded to Katie’s brothers.

  Gray extended his middle finger.

  “Thank you for admitting you are my number one supporter,” Jorlan told him, earning a chuckle from Katie, and a growl from Gray.

  Gray was the most like Katie, Jorlan decided. Which might be the reason he liked Gray the best. The man had a way of making his presence known, no matter the situation. A fine skill for any warrior to possess. Plus, Gray had the bearing of a soldier, and the weariness of someone who’d been forced to kill. But his best quality? He loved Katie and recognized her worth. Every time he glanced at his sister, the hard lines around his eyes and mouth softened, ruining his “I’m about to kill you” vibe.

  His best quality, aye, but also a pathetic one. What? Jorlan believed in being honest always. Couldn’t the man remain outwardly unaffected while dealing with the opposite sex?

  Katie chose that moment to glance at Jorlan. A half smile bloomed, warm and intimate and only for him. He knew those lips felt like heated satin against his skin and tasted like the sweetest gartina petal.

  An-n-nd Jorlan lost his warrior vibe.

  I’m worse than Gray, and happier for it.

  While the James men were hard and golden, Katie was soft and fair. Each male could easily pass for an Imperian warrior. Katie, though, would not blend with Imperian men or women. She was too opinionated, too commanding. Too reactive. If he introduced her to his comrades, they would surely string him up for fear such a spitfire would embolden their women. But ah, what fun he and Katie would have!