A Warrior's Desire (Harlequin Nocturne)

by Pamela Palmer

  She supposed a death mark would do that.

  Yet it saddened her, too. The closeness that had been growing between them had fallen away. Charlie rarely looked at her anymore. He hardly even met her gaze, as if even that small connection was more than he wanted with her. She told herself it was the worry eating at him. That their mating wasn’t at the root of his withdrawal. But she wasn’t so sure.

  Which made what she had to say to him all the more difficult.

  Tarrys took a deep breath. “Charlie, I think the poison’s back. I think it’s time I shared my power with you again.”

  He glanced at her, wariness in his eyes. “And just how would you do that?”

  “You know.”

  The knowledge flared in his eyes, then disappeared with a scowl. “I’m fine.”

  But they both knew that was a lie.

  The knot of disappointment that had lodged itself beneath her rib cage a couple of days ago grew larger and more painful. If only she knew how she’d displeased him. Because being with him had been the most extraordinary experience, and she desperately wanted to repeat it.

  But Charlie had made it clear he didn’t feel the same. And that hurt.

  She tossed her head, feeling the heavy weight of hair brush her shoulders. It was funny, really. In the human realm, she’d wished she had long, thick hair, thinking Charlie might be more likely to notice her if she had. But now that she suddenly had thick tresses, he barely looked at her at all.

  She stared down into the water, kicking her feet slowly back and forth. “Would you like to try another fruit?”

  When he didn’t answer, she glanced at him, then watched with alarm as his body began to collapse.

  “Charlie!”

  Tarrys grabbed for him as he tipped forward and fell into the shallow stream in a boneless heap.

  Pulse pounding, she leaped in after him and yanked his head above the water. Humans had to breathe or they drowned. “Charlie, wake up!”

  As she stared into his unconscious face, she saw the mottling pattern rising from his neck to his face, darkening by the second.

  Fear was a vise, crushing her ribs. Struggling and panting, Tarrys hooked her arms beneath his and backed him out of the water, sliding him up the bank until he lay on the grass. She didn’t know if he was breathing, didn’t know how to make him start breathing if he’d stopped. She only knew one way to share her power with him and hoped that would be enough.

  With shaking hands, she untied his soaked pants and reached inside to free his penis only to find it soft and flaccid. Reaching for it, she began to stroke the damp flesh, eliciting a groan from him that sputtered into a cough.

  “Charlie?”

  He said nothing, showing no sign of waking, but the worst of her fear slipped away with the proof that he was still alive, still breathing.

  Slowly, the flesh beneath her hand began to harden, her soft ministrations awakening her need for him as much as his for her. By the time he was hard enough, she was damp and ready.

  Tarrys pulled off her gown, then bent and kissed his unresponsive lips. “I love you, Charlie Rand.” She rose and straddled him, guiding him into her damp heat. Pleasure tore through her as she took him deep inside and she gasped and threw her head back, absorbing the rush of passion. His sudden thrust against her startled her. Her head snapped forward until she was staring into heated eyes in a face devoid of the poison’s mottling.

  Like something out of his fantasies, Charlie woke to find Tarrys straddling him, riding him, drawing him deep into her body with velvet strokes of wickedly intense pleasure. He grabbed her hips and thrust himself harder, watching her back arch, her perfect breasts rise, her head falling back on a moan. Passion roared through him, cleansing him of sleep and weakness, lifting him up as if on the winds of a storm. A storm that, like before, threatened to tear him loose and dash him into the seas.

  He hadn’t wanted to do this again.

  With a rush, it all came back to him. Tarrys insinuating they needed to make love again. His denial. This was Tarrys’s doing.

  Dammit. Dammit.

  If he could have pulled away from her at that moment, he would have, but he was powerless to do so. His body was lost in the feel of her, lost in the need.

  He rolled, pulling her under him as he took over, taking her roughly. But by her expression, it became quickly apparent that his show of temper only excited her more. She met him thrust for thrust, her moans growing louder.

  The exquisite pleasure on her delicate features made his heart ache. And made him only more desperate to put distance between them.

  Damn her for pulling him back into this. For stealing his control.

  Passion built in his blood, rising between them until he felt her release burst upon her, driving him to his own. With a roar of pleasure and frustration, he came, pumping his seed into her over and over again. When it was over, it was all he could do not to roll onto his back, holding her tight against his chest. Everything irrational inside him wanted to feel her heart pounding in time with his as he filled his senses with her sweet scent and felt her warm flesh against his.

  Instead, he levered himself up and out of her, feeding on the anger in order to keep that unwanted need at bay.

  “Don’t ever do that to me again,” he growled. Almost as soon as the words were out, he regretted his tone, hating the thought of hurting her.

  As he grabbed his pants, Tarrys leaped to her feet, hands on her hips. To his surprise, temper flashed in her eyes.

  “Do you notice anything odd about your clothes?” she snapped.

  Wet. God, they were dripping. Everything about him was soaked. His brows drew down in confusion as he looked to her for explanation. He couldn’t remember....

  She picked up her gown and pulled it over her head, not meeting his gaze. “You passed out, Charlie. Right into the water. When I pulled you out, your skin was more green than tan and I wasn’t even sure you were breathing.” She fastened the belt around her waist, then faced him, her mouth hard. “The only thing I could think to do was to share my power with you the only way I know how.” Her mouth tightened even more, but her chin began to quiver as hot, angry eyes stared at him. “I’m sorry you find making love with me so disagreeable, but surely it’s not worse than dying?”

  Without waiting for his reply, she snatched up her quiver and bow and took off running in the direction they’d been traveling before the exhaustion overtook him.

  Jesus. She thought he didn’t want her. And he didn’t, but…

  Hell, of course he did. That was the whole damn problem.

  His heart clenched, his anger crumbling. She’d been more loyal to him, and brought him more pleasure, than any woman he’d known. The last thing he’d meant to do was hurt her. Wasn’t that the reason he’d been trying to keep things from getting too hot and heavy between them? Because she’d end up getting hurt?

  God, he’d made a mess of this.

  With a shake of his head, he ran to catch up with her. As he moved, he was amazed all over again at his sudden and total recovery. Incredible.

  He owed her an apology. Not only because he’d been unfair to her, but because making love to Tarrys was probably the only thing that was going to keep him alive.

  God save his sanity.

  When he caught up to her, she didn’t meet his gaze but stared straight ahead as she continued to run, tears streaking her cheeks.

  He felt like the world’s biggest heel.

  “Tarrys, I’m sorry. That was a hell of a way to thank you for saving my life.”

  As he kept pace beside her, he watched her, waiting for her to turn, forgiveness warming her violet eyes. Instead, she ignored him.

  He’d really hurt her this time. But, seriously, she of all people should understand his getting ticked off at having sex forced on him. Except that wasn’t it, was it? He remembered what she’d said. I’m sorry you find making love with me so disagreeable.

  Hell. Surely she didn’t believe tha
t? And yet, why wouldn’t she? How could she possibly know part of his problem was that he found making love to her entirely too agreeable? So much so that he felt as if he was losing himself every time he came inside her.

  And that was something he refused to do…to lose himself, to care about someone so much that when they left him…

  Hell, how could he ever expect her to understand him when he didn’t understand himself?

  “Tarrys.” She continued to ignore him, so he pressed forward. “I don’t find making love to you disagreeable. Not at all. Being with you has been the best sex I’ve ever had.”

  She looked at him and then turned away.

  “The problem is, you love me. And I don’t love you.” Now he was just digging himself a bigger hole. Somehow he had to make her understand. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I can’t love you. It’s not in me.”

  He scrubbed his face with his hands. Love…the kind that made you dependent on another, that made you weak…wrecked lives. He’d seen it happen too many times. His dad’s desertion had sent his mom spiraling down into depression and alcoholism, leaving his sons to fend for themselves at a tender age. At eleven years old he’d lost two parents, but learned a hard, if valuable, lesson—never let anyone matter so much that they destroy you when they leave. Harrison had failed to learn that lesson and was now divorced. Charlie refused to go down that path. He kept his relationships casual and short. Always.

  “I don’t want to lead you on, Tarrys. I don’t want you to think I might fall in love with you someday. It’s not fair to either one of us.”

  Her pace slowed as she looked at him with genuine confusion. “What does love have to do with sex?”

  He frowned. “Usually a lot.”

  The look she threw him told him clearly that she thought he was an idiot. “You’re afraid my loving you makes me too weak to have sex with you?”

  “No,” he said with exasperation. “It’s just…” Hell, he didn’t even know what his point was anymore. Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with her. It was him. He was the one in danger if he didn’t pull away from her. Which was equally ridiculous.

  “I’m not hurt that you don’t love me, Charlie,” Tarrys said softly. “I never expected you to. And since it makes you so uncomfortable, I won’t say it again. But until we reach a carnasserie bush and the antidote for the trimor poisoning, I must share my power with you from time to time or you’ll die.” Temper snapped in her eyes. “But I will endeavor to quit loving you.”

  She was mocking him.

  Or maybe she wasn’t. His stomach fell away. Could she really quit caring that easily? Hell, why not? He’d certainly given her more than enough reason to.

  But instead of being relieved at the thought, he felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

  Nearly two weeks later, Charlie held Tarrys tight in his arms, her head tucked under his chin, her naked warmth covering the length of him as she lay atop him. He was still buried deep inside her and he knew it was time to get going again.

  But his arms wouldn’t budge even though a melancholy had invaded his mood as it always did when they had sex. If only he could hold on to the euphoria, the feeling of total rightness, that filled him whenever he sank into her. Every time, as he clung to the last threads of control, the euphoria drained away.

  They were making love daily now. Tarrys had become a drug he craved ever since he’d quit fighting his need for her, accepting that for a reason he couldn’t fathom, release inside her body kept the effects of the poison at bay. He needed to make love to her. He needed her, period.

  Every day, he fell a little more under her spell. Every time he held her in his arms, he found it harder to let her go.

  He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head as he opened his eyes to the low ceiling of the tunnel. They’d left the ease of the caverns days ago. He had a recurring nightmare that these paths didn’t actually lead anywhere. That they were part of a maze with no end that would leave them spiraling within the mountain forever. At moments like these, with Tarrys tight in his arms, he wasn’t sure he cared. As long as they remained within the mountain, she’d never leave him.

  The thought hit him from out of nowhere, jarring him unpleasantly, and he shoved it aside. “We need to get going.”

  Tarrys pulled back and looked down at him, her violet eyes glowing with fathomless intensity in the reddish light from the crystal. He lifted a hand and slid his thumb across her cheek. So beautiful. How was it possible to want her more each day than he had the day before?

  Tarrys dipped her head to lay a kiss on his shoulder. Tenderness rose inside him until he thought it would swallow him whole, melding with the protectiveness that drove him every hour of every day. If he did nothing else, he would keep her safe.

  She kissed his shoulder once more, then rose to her knees with a fluid grace that never ceased to impress him. As he rose from the cloak he’d laid out for them on the crystal floor, she pulled her torn and stained gown over her head. Even dressed in rags, she took his breath away.

  He finished dressing and they set off again. They’d barely walked an hour when Tarrys whirled to stare at him.

  “What’s the matter?” he demanded.

  “Do you smell that?”

  He sniffed the air, smelling nothing but the sweet scent of the woman whose body he’d come to know as well as his own. “What do you smell?”

  “Trees. We’ve found the way out of the mountain.”

  Their gazes met and locked, relief and dread arcing between them as they wondered what awaited them in the land beyond.

  Chapter 18

  Tarrys stared at Charlie’s broad back with disbelief as he pushed her behind him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Wrap your feet. If you’re smelling trees, we’re near an exit. We need to douse the light.”

  He was right, of course, and she quickly untied the strips of cloth she’d been wearing around her wrists for just such a situation. But that wasn’t what was bothering her at the moment.

  “Charlie, why would you shove me behind you? They know you’re human. They’ll come after you with arrows and knives, neither of which can hurt me. Let me go first.”

  “No. I’m leading from here on out.”

  Tarrys made a sound of exasperation. “Are you really going to start this again?”

  He looked back at her, meeting her gaze, his jaw set. “I concede the wisdom of your words. But I’m not letting you take the brunt of the attack.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  With a shrug, he turned back. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “I’m virtually indestructible.”

  “A handy trick.”

  Tarrys stared at his back, frustration growing quickly into anger. “Charlie Rand, turn around, now.”

  He glanced at her over his shoulder, meeting her gaze.

  “Turn around,” she said again. “I can’t talk to you like this and I won’t let you treat me like a slave, shuffling behind you with no say in what I’m forced to do.”

  The expression in his eyes sobered and he turned, kneeling so that he could straighten his back. She liked when he did this. It was the only time she could look down at him.

  She took his beloved face in her hands. “You told me I was your partner. You know they can’t hurt me. Yet you’re trying to protect me anyway. Don’t be foolish.”

  He grabbed her hands and tugged her down onto her knees in front of him. “I’m not being protective. I’m being reasonable.”

  She gave him a disbelieving look.

  “Okay, so I am being protective, but hear me out. If the Esri are out there, I’m dead. If they’ve caught up with me already, there’s no hope for me.”

  “You could go back in the mountain.”

  “Only if you don’t get captured. And for how long even then? You keep me going, but you can’t heal me. I need the antidote, Tarrys. You know that. Without it, sooner or later, I’m going to
die.” He squeezed her hands. “I can’t live without you. You can live without me. If they’re out there, I want you to go back through the mountain. You can find your way to the gate and wait until the next full moon to return to D.C.”

  “Without you?”

  His gaze melded with hers. “I want you safe. I want you free and happy, Tarrys. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “Nor I you.”

  “I’m not going to let them take you. As long as I’m alive, I’m going to keep you safe.”

  She stared at him, at the hard promise in his gaze, and felt her love for him deepen even more. No matter what happened, no matter that he didn’t actually love her, the gift of his caring, of his knight’s honor, would stay with her forever, tight beside the love she felt for him and the love she’d been showered with as a child. Sustenance during the long, cruel nights to come.

  “So you’re going to step out there and let them shoot you?” she asked.

  His mouth compressed and he shook his head, a gleam in his eye. “Not at all. I’m not going down without one hell of a fight. If there’s no one out there, I’ll come back for you.”

  “No, Charlie. If safety had ever been my goal, I’d have stayed in D.C. I didn’t risk everything to come with you only to hide now. You might leave the mine first, but I’ll be right behind you.”

  Emotions chased one another across his face—frustration, anger, resignation. And, finally, acceptance.

  “You’re stubborn, you know that?”

  “As are you.”

  The wry grin that broke over his face melted something deep inside her. “Yeah,” he said. “I am. I think that’s why I like you so much.” He shook his head. “I’d really prefer to keep you safe.”

  Tarrys smiled, ruefully. “As I would you. I suppose neither of us will get their wish.”

  Charlie sighed. “I guess not. We’ll do this together, then.” He led the way, stopping a short while later. “There it is.”

  Tarrys peered around him. In the distance, an opening in the crystal revealed the bright gold of the Esrian sky.