A Warrior's Desire (Harlequin Nocturne)

by Pamela Palmer

  He rolled onto his elbow where he could see her eyes. “I do need your help.”

  She blinked.

  The realization jerked Charlie upright. “It’s wearing off.”

  Her hand convulsed in his and he rubbed it as if improving her circulation would somehow make the poison wear off faster. Finally, she gasped in a deep, desperate breath of air, then coughed it out. The mottling, he noticed, was gone.

  Charlie helped her sit up, bracing her with an arm around her slim shoulders as the coughing fit slowly subsided.

  “I’m glad you warned me about the paralysis or I might have had you buried by now.”

  Tarrys looked up at him, her violet eyes shuttering her emotions as they hadn’t when she was paralyzed. “You shouldn’t have waited with me.”

  “Didn’t you hear me when I was talking to you?” He’d already had his half of this discussion.

  “Yes, but you don’t understand. I can’t keep up with you.”

  “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

  “Barely. You don’t know what it’s been costing me to keep going. Even when I shot the trimors I was dizzy with exhaustion. I can’t keep up with your pace, Charlie.”

  “I’ll slow down.”

  “No.” Her expression turned earnest as she leaned forward. It was all he could do not to meet her halfway and taste those lips again. Lips that were now free to kiss him back.

  “I came to help you, not hold you back,” she said. “You have to reach the princess. Your world is depending on you.”

  “Tarrys…” He settled his hand on her jaw and rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “I can’t keep up that pace, either. I was being an ass. I thought if I pushed you hard enough, you’d beg off and tell me you had someplace else to go.”

  “I don’t.”

  “I know.” He took her hands and rubbed his thumbs over the soft skin of their backs, the friction going through him like electricity. His gut reaction was to pull her closer, but he felt a tension in her. A resistance. So he held her hands and met her gaze. Fell into her gaze. Why had he never noticed that her eyes were deep as the ocean, bottomless wells of violet? Why did she have this pull on him?

  He dropped his gaze slightly, breaking the connection as he focused instead on her mouth. And totally forgot what he’d meant to say. That lower lip fascinated him. Just slightly too big in a way that sent shafts of heat firing through his body. All he wanted to do was taste it again.

  But she was looking at him with misery in her eyes. His mind gave him a kick. She wasn’t fast enough. That’s what he’d meant to respond to.

  He met her gaze. “You’re more than fast enough, Tarrys. What’s more, you’re tough. I admit I didn’t think you would be.” He gave her a self-deprecating grimace. “You don’t exactly look the part. But you’re a hell of a warrior. If you’d panicked when you saw those cats, we’d both be dead.” He shook his head. “You were amazing.”

  He’d never spoken truer words. Not only had she kept going when, by her own admission, she’d been close to collapse. But she’d done what she must to save them, and trusted him to do the same.

  She watched him uncertainly as if she wanted to believe his words and wasn’t quite sure she could.

  Squeezing her hands, he released her. “Let’s pick up the arrows, get some water, then find a sheltered spot to take a break. We could both use a nap.”

  They rose as one, then turned in opposite directions to search for the arrows. But his gaze kept going back to her, admiration rising inside him. He recognized in her that same rare strength he’d had to find in himself during SEAL training, the most physically grueling training in the U.S. military. To make it through, he’d had to learn to isolate the pain and discomfort and ignore them, a feat that had demanded a strength of will and spirit few people possessed.

  Yet in this delicate-looking little female, he’d found both.

  The realization humbled him. He’d long ago figured out that size had nothing to do with that kind of strength. Many of the best SEALs weren’t physically imposing men. But never would he have expected to find such toughness in such a small woman. Was it her race? Was this what the Marceils were all about?

  Or was he simply beginning to understand Tarrys? Was he starting to see in her that same drive to win, no matter the circumstances, no matter the odds, that was in him? The reason he’d become a SEAL in the first place.

  They’d make a good team. As he bent to pluck an arrow from the grass beside the stream, an odd sense of calm settled over him. Accepting her as his partner somehow soothed the ragged sense of chaos that had ridden him since he’d arrived in this place. He was a highly trained, skilled warrior used to being thrown into situations that were out of his control. But always with a team. Never alone. And the situations had been based in a world he understood. A world where the grass and flowers grew where they were planted and invisible animals didn’t attack from thin air. His skills had been honed in that world, not this.

  Esria was unlike any place he’d ever imagined. Alone, he’d be lost. With Tarrys at his side, he might just stand a chance. Assuming he could get his growing attraction under control.

  Tarrys had risked her freedom to come after him. She threw her heart into everything she did. Everything he knew about her told him the woman didn’t do casual. Neither did he when it concerned his missions. But when it came to relationships? He didn’t do serious. A combination that could only end badly, especially now that he’d come to the conclusion he needed her bow arm, her knowledge, and her cool head. Now that he was committed to keeping her by his side for at least another month.

  He closed his eyes, trying to shut her out of his senses. She was making hash of his brain. Having her as a partner might help keep him alive, but at what cost? All he could think of was touching her. Kissing her.

  Yeah, if he didn’t cool it with the lustful thoughts, they were both going to be in trouble. She was already wreaking havoc on his concentration. And if this continued, he was going to wind up hurting her. She didn’t deserve that. And he didn’t need an armed and skilled warrior wishing him dead.

  Tarrys woke and looked around, noting the russet night sky. For a moment, she was disoriented until her gaze caught on Charlie leaning against the tree beside her, lines of exhaustion on his face.

  A faint smile warmed his eyes when he saw her. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine.” She sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with her knuckles. “I feel rested.”

  “Good. I’ve been practicing with my bow.” He gave her a tired grin. “If we’re ever attacked by trees, I’m your man. As long as they don’t move.”

  She smiled softly. “You need to sleep.”

  “I do.” He yawned heavily. “I leave it to you to watch for ghost cats or whatever else we need to beware of.”

  Tarrys nodded. “Sleep well, Charlie Rand.”

  As he lay down, the flowers spread before him, offering him a bed. He settled onto the blanket of pink and closed his eyes. Almost at once, his breathing turned deep and even.

  She watched him for long minutes, taking advantage of the opportunity to drink her fill as her gaze roamed the strong bone structure of his face, admiring the way his expression softened in sleep. Her heart beat a quick, strong rhythm as pleasure and warmth thrummed through her blood. Yes, he was beautiful to look at, but he was equally beautiful on the inside. A strong man, yet a good man.

  And he’d absolutely stolen her heart.

  Forcing her gaze from the man lying beside her, she scanned the small woods that concealed them for any sign of movement. Since trimors rarely attacked at night, her bigger concern was that they might be caught by a wandering Esri.

  She stretched her limbs, anxious to get moving again now that she was rested, but Charlie needed the same chance to sleep that he’d afforded her. He’d felt guilty, she knew, for pushing her so hard and had insisted they stop the moment they’d found a patch of woods thick enough to conceal them.
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br />   It was odd to have someone worry about her. Nice, in a way, but uncomfortable, too, because she feared that his guilty feelings and concern for her could cause him to do things that weren’t in his own best interest. Or the interest of his world.

  He was a man who protected others, putting their needs before his own. Only such a man would have undertaken this journey in the first place, selflessly risking his life to try to save his world.

  She was here to help him succeed in that mission, not to cause him to fail out of his misguided belief that he now needed to protect her.

  Something moved in her chest, something warm and full, as she remembered the look in his eyes as he’d bent over her, the worry creasing his forehead, as she’d lain immobile. He should have left her there and continued on. Instead he’d watched over her.

  He’d kissed her. Her very first kiss.

  She smiled, quickly, fleetingly, wishing she’d been able to feel it. He’d said he was only trying to break the poison’s spell, but she’d seen something in his eyes as he’d held her hands afterward. She’d felt something in his gaze. Something warm with a sharpness that hinted at lust.

  A part of her delighted at the thought that he might desire her in that way. But a bigger part of her didn’t want that from him, that physical intimacy that mimicked true caring but wasn’t.

  And if Charlie Rand decided he wished to mate with her? As much as she might wish to be her own master, she feared she’d never find the strength to deny him.

  Chapter 5

  Something was wrong with him.

  Ever since he woke hours ago, Charlie had felt achy and tired. And god-awful thirsty. How many times had he stopped to drink from the stream they were following into the foothills of the mountains? Too many times to count, yet the sweet, clear water never seemed to assuage his thirst. Wouldn’t it be a bitch if he was coming down with a virus? Here, of all places. He’d brought a first-aid kit with the basics, but if he came down with the flu, he’d just have to take a couple of Tylenol and tough it out. He didn’t have time to be sick.

  Tarrys walked beside him, no longer having to run to keep up. Beside the stream, on the slope high above, a herd of small red polka-dotted deer drank from the stream. As a pair of flying snakes dive-bombed them, they darted off.

  Tarrys made a sound of amusement beside him and he glanced at her curiously.

  “The snakes entertain themselves,” she explained. “And me.” The red and gold highlights in her short brown hair caught the golden glow of the sky, igniting hidden color. Was it his imagination, or had her hair grown overnight? The sleek dark cap was starting to lie down in places instead of sticking up like a crew cut.

  “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked her.

  “Well, thank you.” Her eyes turned fathomless as her mouth quirked up in a soft Mona Lisa smile. Her expression hid a multitude of thoughts.

  And he wanted to know every one, he realized. Like her hair, the woman was a maze of hidden depths and secrets he longed to explore. She’d become a puzzle to him, a pretty little puzzle he needed to solve.

  “No residual effects from the poison?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m fine.”

  “Good.” He wished he could say the same.

  They continued on, following the sloping path in companionable silence. Though Charlie constantly scanned for potential dangers, his senses kept zeroing in on his partner. The woman couldn’t be dressed any less attractively, with that now-bloodstained, torn, sacklike gown. No makeup. Less-than-stylish haircut.

  He didn’t like to think of himself as shallow, but being a fit and relatively decent-looking male, he was used to his choice of women. His tastes generally ran to the stylish professional types in their trim suits, high heels and expensive haircuts.

  Maybe that’s why he’d never really noticed Tarrys before with her bald head and shapeless Redskins sweatshirts. On the roof, yesterday, he’d seen a different woman. He’d seen her as a woman. And now he couldn’t seem to forget.

  Charlie opened his mouth to make small talk, just to hear her voice, but every question he wanted to ask her seemed wrong. So, what was life like with Baleris? Do you miss being a slave?

  Jesus.

  “What’s beyond the dome?” he asked instead, glancing skyward.

  She cut him a look that was almost amused, as if she’d been listening to his thoughts. “What’s beyond your sky?” she countered.

  “Space. Other stars.”

  Her eyes turned thoughtful. “I don’t know. No one studies our world like you do yours.”

  “Scientists would have a field day with this place.”

  If they survived it. The thought was in her eyes, and in his own head. Neither voiced it and he struggled to find a subject that would lighten the mood.

  “My team back home is full of pranksters.”

  She threw him a curious look. “What is a prankster?”

  “Someone who enjoys playing good-natured tricks and jokes on others.”

  Tarrys lifted a single brow and he found himself grinning, partly in anticipation of the stories he wanted to tell her and partly because she was here with him, waiting for him to tell them.

  “Between ops, we were always pulling pranks on one another.” He regaled her with the stories, about pouring packing popcorn through the sunroof of the Commander’s Camry on his birthday, and breaking into his buddy’s town house to line the stairs with dozens of Dixie cups full of water.

  As he talked, the smile on Tarrys’s pretty face bloomed, lighting him up inside like a thousand-watt lightbulb. But he had yet to make her laugh. And he really wanted to hear her laugh.

  “Okay, here’s the best one. My buddy Dunc is a grade-A practical joker who married a woman just like him last spring.”

  The eyes Tarrys turned to him shone with anticipation, her mouth already starting to turn up. His breath caught, the slam of desire to kiss her sudden and nearly overwhelming. But he continued, his need to hear her laughter nearly as great as his need to kiss her.

  “We decided we had to get them both, and good. So as a welcome home from the honeymoon, the guys and I hid alarm clocks all around their bedroom, each set to go off at a different hour. The first was buried in the hamper.” Charlie started chuckling, watching Tarrys’s disbelieving smile with delight. At the sound of her giggle, his heart tripped.

  “After the third alarm went off, Dunc turned on all the lights and went on a massive alarm clock hunt. The two of them thought they’d rooted out the rest. But they missed the one under the bed.”

  Tarrys’s laughter erupted like a song, as clear and beautiful as he’d known it would be. As perfect. As right. A soft yet brilliant light casting out the darkness. Goose bumps broke out on his arms, then were gone, a visceral reaction he couldn’t even begin to explain.

  Grinning like a fool, he continued the story. “An hour after they finally went back to sleep, that last one went off. Dunc said they both shot up, then started laughing. And started planning their revenge.”

  Tarrys’s musical laughter floated away. “What did they do?” she asked, still grinning.

  Charlie’s smile turned wry. “I’m going to have to get to know you a little better before I spill that story.”

  “Tomorrow, maybe?” she asked hopefully.

  “Next year, maybe.”

  Her expression turned wistful. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to meet these friends of yours.”

  “You’ll meet them. I’ll introduce you when we get back.”

  She nodded, but the laughter and amusement were gone from her eyes. Instead he saw regret and resignation. The belief that she wouldn’t make it back.

  A belief he refused to share.

  As Tarrys looked out over the blue landscape toward the forest that hemmed them between stream and trees as they walked, she wondered how a human could possess such magic. Charlie’s enchantment wove around her, his power over her growing with every minute she remained in his com
pany. Never had she felt so comfortable with another person.

  When was the last time she’d laughed so freely? When was the last time she’d laughed at all? In the human realm, perhaps, watching a television comedy. But never with such pleasure, such joy. Charlie made her happier than she’d ever been, yet desperately wary, for she felt herself falling under his spell. A magic from which she feared there would be no escape.

  Beside her, Charlie made a sound of disbelief. “What on earth…?”

  Her gaze followed his to where a large yellow animal lumbered up the far bank of the stream.

  “What is it?” he asked. “It looks like a cross between a crab and a giant sea turtle.”

  “They’re called cralmonts. They’re harmless. And not very good eating.”

  “Speaking of eating…I’m getting hungry.” Charlie patted his chest. “We need to preserve the little bit of food I’m carrying for as long as we can. Kade said the fruit here is all edible, but I haven’t seen anything that looks like fruit.”

  Tarrys glanced at him, watching his keen eyes scan the distance. “Did he tell you how to call the fruit from the trees?”

  His gaze cut to her, a look in his eyes that was at once doubtful and amused. “He told me some mumbo jumbo, but I think I’d feel like a fool trying it.”

  She smiled, amazed at how easily her mouth turned up when she looked at him now. He grinned back at her, his gaze dropping to her mouth, setting her pulse to racing as it lingered there.

  “You’re not in D.C. anymore, Charlie.”

  “I noticed.” A huskiness that hadn’t been there moments ago deepened his voice. Slowly, his gaze lifted to hers and in his eyes she again saw that intensity, that desire.

  Her heart tripped, her cheeks growing warm, and she turned away. “The land provides. It’s said that in the old days, when the seven stones still resided in Esria, the trees were laden with fruit at all times.”