“And your magic is ‘generated and stored during sex’, so becoming lovers was unavoidable.”
“Yes, but there’s more to it than that.”
Cinarra chuckled. “Isn’t there always.”
“I spontaneously teleported to Earth ten months before Drakkin found me. Nearly every night of those ten months I dreamed about him.”
“Drakkin dream-shared with you?”
“No. I don’t think Drakkin had anything to do with the dreams. I think the images came from Vee. He didn’t want me to be afraid of Drakkin. Vee tried to prepare me so I’d trust and accept… It’s hard to explain.”
Pushing to her feet, Cinarra moved closer to Aria. “No, I get it. Vee didn’t want Drakkin to seem like a stranger when he burst into your life.”
“And it worked. I’m convinced I accepted everything so fast because of those dreams.”
“Do you think you’re Drakkin’s mate?”
Aria took a moment to answer. On some instinctual level she knew they were connected. It just seemed impossible that any connection could last a lifetime. Nothing lasted forever.
She started to explain, but Cinarra held up her hand. “It’s probably better if you don’t answer. Just think about it. Make up your mind before tomorrow night.” Her mouth curved but her lips didn’t part. “Besides, if he can walk away from you, you’re not true mates. Charlotte and Tal are bonded and she’s told me many times that the feelings she has for him are unmistakable.”
Aria stilled but her heart continued to race. “You think Drakkin’s bluffing?”
“I don’t know him well enough to be sure. But if he’s convinced you’re his mate, I find it hard to believe anything will keep him away from you.”
“Then why would he make the offer to walk away?”
Cinarra shrugged. “He might think being free of him is what you want.”
Aria shook her head. “I told him I don’t want a new mentor.”
“Is that all Drakkin is to you? A mentor?”
“No. He is…” Emotions twisted around possibilities and she couldn’t put her convoluted thoughts to words.
“Drakkin can’t give you what you want if you don’t know what that is. He’s trying. That much is obvious. He wants you to be happy.”
“I’m not sure I know what happiness is.” It was a gross exaggeration. She’d been happy with Drakkin, she’d allowed herself to care and then he bonded with her.
“Do you want him to walk away?”
“No.”
Cinarra reached over and squeezed her hand. “That’s a good place to start. Now you have twenty-six hours to figure out the rest.”
* * * * *
Aria gazed into the full-length mirror with a mixture of wonder and uncertainty. Who was this person and why had one of the most powerful men on Bilarri focused his attention on her?
You’re a fire pearl. Every sorcerer on the planet will want you to strengthen his abilities. No, you’re Drakkin’s mate. She wasn’t sure which conclusion was more disconcerting. Well, tonight she was just a woman and he was just a man. They would laugh and dance and sip champagne, or the Bilarrian equivalent of champagne. Then she would calmly talk things over with him, explain the source of her conflict and see if they could move beyond his frustrating ultimatum.
“You are pleased?” The stylist had been patient and helpful through the entire afternoon. She had arrived late that morning with a small army of assistants and two shuttles full of fashion paraphernalia. Gowns and undergarments, accessories and shoes. Aria couldn’t risk going to a boutique so Drakkin had arranged for the boutique to be brought to her.
“It’s amazing.” Aria turned and admired the gown from different angles. Sumptuous purple silk was overlaid by a delicate layer of silver lace, creating a sparkling frosted effect. The tight bodice molded to her torso and supported her breasts while leaving her shoulders, arms and much of her back bare. Her hair had been pulled up and arranged into a complex combination of braids and waves.
“I’m happy you like it. Now try not to sit down until you’ve made your grand entrance. It will wrinkle the skirt.” She shooed Aria from the bedroom so she and her assistants could start cleaning up.
As usual Cinarra was in the nursery with Betaul. Aria tapped lightly on the door and Cinarra called out, “Come in.”
She pushed the door open and stood in the doorway, waiting for Cinarra to react.
“Wow.” Cinarra scrambled to her feet. Betaul looked up from his pile of toys and grinned. With curly dark hair framing his cubby face and bright green eyes, he really was adorable. “That dress looked lovely on the hanger, but it was clearly made for you. You’ll turn every head in the place.”
“I hope not. I want this to be about Drakkin and me.”
Cinarra chuckled and Betaul used her leg to pull himself to his feet. “All you’ll have to do is bat your eyelashes at Drakkin and he’ll flash you somewhere private. There are definite advantages to men who can teleport.”
“We have things that need to be addressed before we’re alone together.” She watched the toddler tug on Cinarra’s shirt and pat her thigh, trying to draw her attention. “Is he walking yet?”
“He walks around furniture and all over the place with his push toys, but he hasn’t actually taken his first steps.” She gazed down at the boy with maternal pride and obvious affection. “It won’t be long now.”
Cinarra had explained the extraordinary circumstances surrounding Betaul’s birth and why they were hiding out on Bilarri. Aria knew she was telling the truth, but like many of Drakkin’s stories, the events didn’t seem real to Aria.
“Drakkin should be here soon.” She sat back down and pulled Betaul onto her lap. He immediately squirmed away and banged one of his toys against the floor. “You better head downstairs.”
“I wish you were coming.”
“You don’t need a chaperone and my little man keeps me plenty busy. Don’t you, little man?” She pulled him back into her lap and tickled his ribs. He laughed and wiggled then rolled away, scattering toys as he went. “Have fun.”
Cinarra waved then closed the door. Cinarra was a wonderful mother, but Aria hoped she took Drakkin’s advice and found some time for herself.
Needing something to do until Drakkin arrived, Aria carefully made her way downstairs. A bookcase nestled in one corner of the living room. She perused the titles, intrigued by Cinarra’s eclectic taste in literature.
“Are you ready to go?” Drakkin asked from behind her.
Whirling around in a flurry of skirts, she barely managed to conceal her gasp.
Drakkin moved toward her, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe. “You are so beautiful it’s painful to look at you.”
She rolled her eyes at the lavish compliment, but heat spread across her cheeks. “You look rather nice yourself.” His casual clothing had been replaced by a tailored suit. The jacket was solid black while the pants had a faint stripe in dark gray. A stark white shirt contrasted nicely with his purple tie and an elaborate crest decorated the upper left side of the jacket. She reached out and straightened his tie, though it didn’t need the adjustment. “We coordinate.”
“That was the idea.” Desire smoldered in his gaze and still he didn’t touch her. He’d pulled his hair back from his face and used the familial braids to secure the thick mass at the nape of his neck. The style accented his sharp cheekbones and the hypnotic power of his eyes.
“How did you know which gown I’d choose? I tried on several.”
A mysterious smile curved the corners of his mouth. “It’s my job to know.”
She traced the crest with her index finger, unable to stop touching him. “I like the design. Does it have meaning?”
“It’s the standard of House of Hautell.”
Emboldened by his uncharacteristic reserve, she moved closer, walking her fingers up his chest until her hand rested on his shoulder. “I’m ready,” she whispered as she gazed into his eyes.
&n
bsp; His arm encircled her waist and he pulled her snugly against his chest. She felt a sudden rush of acceleration and then they stood in an empty corridor. She only had a moment to admire the polished marble floor and elaborately carved molding framing the arched ceiling before she found herself pressed against the wall.
Drakkin’s mouth covered hers, sliding for a moment then urging her lips to part. One of his hands curved around her neck while the other pressed against the wall. She closed her eyes and greeted his tongue with hers.
Gods how I missed you. Even in her mind his voice sounded breathless and urgent.
She clutched his back and returned the kiss with equal fervor. I missed you too.
After a long moment of tangled tongues and harsh breathing, he slowly pulled away. “I promised myself I’d be the gallant suitor tonight, that I’d attend to your every need and play the perfect gentleman.”
“You can’t attend to my every need and play the perfect gentleman.” She grinned up at him. “Clearly you sensed my need to kiss you.”
“Keep looking at me like that and the gown will be wasted.”
“We can’t have that. I like this gown.”
He took a deep breath and pushed off the wall. “I am entirely at your service.” He proffered his elbow and banked the fire in his eyes.
The dancing had not yet begun but a sizable crowd milled about the ballroom. A uniformed herald announced each party as they entered the room. Drakkin brought her in through a side entrance, avoiding the line and the announcement.
“Would you like something to drink?” He motioned toward the waiter circulating through the throng with a tray of drinks.
“Not yet. Just let me take it all in.” She’d never witnessed anything like the lavish spectacle. Only in entertainment vids or history files had she even seen such opulence. The room itself was a marvel, cavernous with a high arching roof that supported massive transparent panels. Refreshments had been set up at one end of the room and the orchestra at the other. A railed terrace wrapped around two sides of the ballroom and four sets of double doors leading to the promenade had been propped open, allowing the occasional flower-scented breeze to sweep through the crowded room.
“Drakkin,” a booming male voice snapped Aria’s attention away from the colorful crowd as a bear of a man wrapped his arms around her escort. “Where have you been hiding? It’s been ages.”
“Symposium business keeps me ever in motion.” Drakkin pounded the newcomer on the back and smiled.
They chatted for several moments then the stranger said, “Introduce me to your friend. She’s stunning.” He added the last in an ineffective stage whisper.
“KoonTin Far this is Aria. Aria meet KoonTin Far.”
“Mr. Far.” She held out her hand, expecting him to shake it.
Instead he raised it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “It’s a pleasure and none of this Mr. Far nonsense. I’ve known Drakkin for three hundred years.”
They spoke of people she didn’t know and events she hadn’t experienced, laughing often, and in KoonTin’s case quite loudly. She watched the conversation, feeling rather left out.
As couples strolled by, many of the men did a double take. Aria tried to convince herself that it was her spectacular gown, but she knew it had more to do with her unusual coloring. Were they admiring something unique or did they know she manifested sexual magic?
Noticing her restlessness, Drakkin asked his friend to excuse them and led her toward the refreshment table. “Sorry about that.”
They didn’t make it far before another person recognized Drakkin and then another. He didn’t linger long with any of them, but Aria’s restlessness escalated into frustration.
As if cued by her emotions, the orchestra struck up their first song and her gaze was drawn toward the dance floor. Couples quickly filled the limited space, twirling in time to the lilting music. She didn’t begrudge Drakkin his friends, but this night was supposed to be about them.
Someone grabbed her arm and pulled her away from Drakkin’s side. She yanked her arm free with an indignant hiss. “I beg your pardon.”
The rude man’s coloring was even more unusual than hers. His skin appeared supple yet metallic, the tint somewhere between copper and bronze. With beady black eyes and a turned-up nose, he reminded her of a robotic mouse.
“It would be my honor to dance with a fire pearl.” He put sensual emphasis on the last two words.
She didn’t buy his belated attempt at politeness. His black gaze kept dipping to her cleavage and his nose began to twitch. “I have an escort. Thank you anyway.”
“Your escort seems—”
“Her escort suggests you find someone else to harass.” Drakkin slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her as close to his side as possible with the bulk of her skirts between them. “The lady is with me.”
“Lord Drakkin.” The obnoxious rodent bowed. “I beg your pardon, sir. Obviously, I didn’t realize you had claimed her.” He was suddenly all grace and charm. “Does your fire pearl serve only you? If she is willing—”
“She is not,” Aria snapped.
After one final covetous glance at Aria, the jerk melted into the crowd.
“I am so sorry, love. I should have realized this might be a problem.” Drakkin quickly excused himself from the newest group of acquaintances and pressed his hand against Aria’s back. “Dance with me. I promise I won’t allow anything else to divert my attention. I am yours and only yours.”
Aria’s heart fluttered at the claim and she dipped into a curtsy. “It would be a pleasure, my lord.” He led her to the dance floor and took her in his arms. Thankfully the dance was slow and simple. All she had to do was relax within his embrace and follow his lead.
Couples twirled past, a kaleidoscope of color and motion. Aria looked into his eyes and the rest of the room seemed to blur.
“I’m sorry about the distractions. This is not what I had in mind.”
“You can’t help it if you’re the most popular man in the room.” And yet he’d chosen to dance with her. I am yours and only yours. The phrase kept echoing through her heart.
“Second most popular.” He nodded toward Indric who was surrounded by a tight cluster of people vying for his attention.
“I’m sure you have him beat in Hautell.”
“Our competitive days are long over. I don’t envy him the responsibilities.”
“Are you still head of House Hautell?” He’d said a king ruled for life in San Adrin, but they hadn’t spoken much about Drakkin’s home. She knew it was a mountainous region sharing a border with the San Adrin desert, but little else.
“I ruled House Hautell for three hundred and twenty-seven years when it became obvious that I couldn’t be king and director of the Symposium. My eldest son was anxious to rule, so I signed authority over to him and have concentrated on the Symposium ever since.”
“You’re director of the Symposium?”
He laughed and steered her toward the edge of the dance floor. “Most people are more impressed by the fact that I was once king. What is your fascination with the Symposium?” He snatched two glasses of wine off a waiter’s tray then hurried her outside onto the terrace.
“It’s hard to explain.” She took one of the glasses from his outstretched hand and raised it to her lips. The wine was light and fruity and the cool night wind caressed her skin. “I was surrounded by deceit and corruption my entire life. Government officials took bribes, everyone lied. Everyone advanced their position on the backs of those with less power. But the Symposium is different. They refuse to be swayed by politics and provide information to anyone regardless of species, wealth, or religious affiliation. Information is power, but rather than hoarding that power for themselves, the Symposium shares it equally with everyone.”
“You make us sound noble and I’m not sure we deserve the distinction. Our commitment to neutrality simply keeps us from being pulled into conflicts that don’t directly affect us. Rat
her than choose which disputes are worthy of our support and which are not, we focus entirely on the preservation and distribution of information.”
“It’s important work. I don’t care what you say.”
He laughed. “Sweetheart, I agree with you.” Pressing his cool hands against her cheeks, he gently kissed her forehead. “I’m one of three founding members. I’ve dedicated the past two hundred years to ensuring the integrity of what we started.”
He lowered his hands to his sides and awareness pulsed between them warm and electric. She wanted to guide his hands back to her face and turn the kiss into something far more intimate. But they’d yet to resolve their problems, or her problems. She was the one who was terrified of how fast their relationship had progressed.
“If I ask you a question, will you answer honestly?”
“Always. And any time you doubt the accuracy of what I say, I encourage you to access my mind and find out for yourself. I have nothing to hide from you.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Close your eyes.” He passed his hand in front of her face, guiding her lids down with the sweep of his fingers. “Now find our link. I’ve opened it from this end, so you should be able to sense me.”
It was like a light glowing at the end of a long, dark tunnel. He was available to her, but he remained within the confines of his own mind.
“Move closer then ask your question.”
Reinforcing her courage with a deep breath, she eased along their link and touched his mind. Light exploded around her, blinding and powerful. She gasped and started to pull back, but his arm slipped around her waist and anchored her in place.
“Don’t be afraid. I will never cause you harm.”
She could sense, not just sincerity, but a burning resolve. He would protect her with his life. There was no denying his dedication, but that didn’t excuse some of the things he’d done. “If I was safe within Cinarra’s house and here at the palace, why did you create the temporal bubble?”
“I wasn’t taking any chances. We had not yet identified your pursuers or learned the scope of their abilities.” He touched her shoulder with his free hand and his voice deepened as he added, “I was also worried that you would try to escape before I’d convinced you the danger was real.”
Fire Pearl Page 10
