The Duchess's Descendants (Jordinia Book 3)

by C. K. Brooke

  “I see.” His eyes raked over the shoddy crates in the corner. “You know, if the treaty remains intact, I’m sure we could work something out. We’d be obliged to deliver whatever you need to carry out your father’s research.”

  “Yes, but at what cost?” she challenged, her back to him.

  His shadow capered on the wall of the tent. She could see him moving nearer, closing the gap between them. Like a cornered animal, Catja froze.

  Her entire body shivered as his knuckles grazed the nape of her neck. She felt his warmth, his breath on her ear as he spoke. “You know, if this were Jordinia,” his voice was low and certain, “I’d be swathing you in silk. Right now.” He ran a hand up her arm, making her tremble. “Massaging perfume into your hair.”

  Catja closed her eyes in disbelief as his nose bristled into her hair, his mouth touching her skin. “Adorning you with every damned rare jewel I could get my hands on.” He framed her waist with his hands, sending sparks up her spine. Speechless, she could only stand in place, allowing him.

  “You wouldn’t want for anything. Ever.” His fingers trailed over the inside of her bare left wrist, stroking the tender skin there. She wondered if he could feel her pulse throbbing overtime. “But of course,” his hand abruptly fell away, “none of that interests you in the slightest.”

  On the wall, his shadow and hers were fused. He didn’t move. Neither did she.

  “Andrew,” she exhaled uncertainly.

  “How many times do I have to insist?” he murmured. “It’s Drew.”

  Every particle of her skin tingled, even though he was no longer touching her. It was simply his presence that did it to her. His galling, maddening…impossibly disarming presence.

  He leaned in, bringing his chin over her shoulder. “Let me be perfectly clear,” he breathed. “You run circles around every woman I’ve ever met, Catja Lovell.” His voice deepened. “And it drives me mad that you want nothing to do with me.”

  He couldn’t think that. How could he possibly? She was only guarding her wits, her heart—but did he honestly think she felt nothing?

  Catja couldn’t stand it anymore. At last, she turned to face him. Gazing up at the man she’d reluctantly become so fond of, whose imperfections somehow made him more perfect, she lost her breath all over again.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Or do you?”

  Gently, he lifted her chin and lowered his mouth to hers. She lost the whole world in his kiss. She buried her fingers into his hair, so deliciously coarse and unkempt. Her life and every hour leading up to that moment was a blur. He consumed her.

  His lips felt hot and soft as he let go. She was agape to meet a depth in his eyes she’d never noticed before. “There, now.” His mouth rose into an infuriatingly sensual smirk. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  Oh, but she wasn’t done. Catja tugged off her spectacles and flung them onto the desk. She threw her arms around his neck, kissing him with abandon. How dare he taunt her with the depressing truth that she could’ve had this so much sooner? He’d been in front of her, all along. And there she’d been, too stubborn to see him for who he was, to let him embody everything she hoped…and feared…he could be.

  He backed her into the desk. The lantern shook, and with it, their shadows. “Why have you been resisting me?” he grunted, working his mouth down her throat.

  A moan escaped her as his lips trailed dangerously below her collar. “I was terrified of you,” she confessed. “Of this. I’m not some….” She struggled for the words, the backs of her thighs pressing into the table, “common flit, Andrew Cosmith.”

  “The hell you aren’t,” he growled. He tugged open the top button of her blouse. His breaths came heavy as he possessed her shape, sliding his hands along her every contour.

  “God,” he groaned, “I want to tear down all your walls, Cat. Get underneath your skin.” She went limp as his fingers dipped below her waistband. “I’ll be so careful with your heart,” he promised. “With everything….”

  It took all of her willpower, but she pushed him away. Her lips burned, raw, the taste of his mouth lingering erotically on her tongue. “I believe you,” she whispered.

  The man watched her, his chest heaving. It was clear, so clear, what he wanted. And though she felt much the same, they were moving too fast. She had just experienced her first kiss. Did he not understand? There were only so many firsts she could handle in a night.

  She rested a hand on his chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of his heart. “Goodnight, Drew.”

  “That’s it?” He didn’t budge. “You’re going to leave me high and dry?”

  “You’ll survive.”

  “Cat, please, I’ve been waiting all my life for you.” His eyes searched hers, and she couldn’t help but feel moved. “Don’t send me away.” He placed his hand on hers, holding it over his heart. “If you wake up without me, I’m afraid you’ll render this all a dream, and forget everything you’re feeling right here, in this moment.”

  She smiled tenderly at him. “As if I could forget how I feel about you.”

  He squeezed her hand. Countless unspoken desires hovered between them. Catja braced herself as he honed in again, her knees quivering as he planted tiny, torturous kisses around her mouth.

  “Please,” he mumbled over her lips, “let me make you feel even better.”

  “You’re making this all the more difficult for me.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.” There was no mistaking the need in his eyes. “We could…stay together.”

  She released his hand. “Not tonight, Drew.”

  “Do you want to go swimming?” he tried again, and the attempt was so doggedly hopeful, Catja couldn’t help but laugh.

  “You’re incorrigible,” she cried.

  He smiled impishly.

  But the thought of water had given her pause. She didn’t wish to venture to the hot spring in the evening’s heat, no; but there was something else she hadn’t seen in a while. It was just the right season for it, too. “Actually, I have an idea.” She slipped her spectacles back over her ears. “Follow me.”

  They ducked out of the tent. Up ahead, the bonfire blazed strong, the villagers feasting and celebrating around it, leaving their homes empty. Catja beckoned Drew along the side path, farther out of view, leading downhill to the river.

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  The river’s dance sounded in her ears. They reached the bank and Catja knelt on the cool, moist grass, peering down into the moonlit waters.

  Drew got to his knees beside her. “What are we looking for?”

  She was glad he kept his voice low, because she didn’t want to frighten the creatures away. Her gaze panned over stones and branches in time with the running water that smoothed them over. A glimmer caught the corner of her eye, and she moved closer.

  Great, glinting shells rippled beneath the water, and Catja wordlessly pointed. The man at her side leaned forward, pressing his shoulder against hers as if he couldn’t bear not to touch her. He matched her gaze into the water, both of them taking in the soft indigo and lightning-green glows emanating from a set of enormous shells in the riverbed.

  “Are those turtles?” he breathed.

  “Colossal terrapins.” Catja brought her arm around him, tickled by the childlike astonishment on his face. “They’re all over the coast, especially in the estuary. But a few venture up the river this time of year.”

  “What makes them glow in the dark like that?”

  “Their shells are bioluminescent. It’s how they lure their prey and, um…attract mates.”

  A breeze blew a rivulet of hair over her brow, and Drew brushed it back. His fingers were warm on her skin. “Tell me how they attract their mates.”

  “Well.” She cleared her throat. “As you can see, there’s a
sort of slow rhythm, like a pulse, to the illumination. And the shades vary.”

  He laid his head on her shoulder, and she rested her chin in his hair. “What they’re actually doing is projecting a unique light pattern among hundreds, possibly thousands, of combinations. And they do it to find the one that shares their exact pattern.”

  “It sounds so impossible,” he marveled. “What are the odds they find a perfect match?”

  “It happens, but can take a while. That’s why they mate for life.”

  They fell silent, watching the gentle light pulsing underwater. The creatures remained, peaceful as glowing stones.

  “It’s hot,” Drew muttered. She lowered her arm as he tugged his collar loose and unfastened his jerkin. He slid off the vest and tossed it onto the grass. Catja’s heart pounded. He wasn’t going to keep undressing, was he? Because if he was, she wasn’t sure she’d have the self-discipline to stop him.

  He undid a few buttons of his blouse, but stopped there. It didn’t help, however, when he rolled up his sleeves, revealing those firm-looking arms. She was reminded of the way they’d glistened, wet and bare, the evening in the hot spring.

  He caught her staring. “What are you thinking?” He smirked.

  “I’m thinking if you don’t put those arms around me, right now, I might explode.”

  “Funny.” He wrapped her in his embrace, bowing his brow against hers. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  Catja melted in his kiss. She didn’t fight when he laid her down on the grass, pinning her beneath him.

  Time disappeared. His endearingly crooked nose brushed hers as she moved her mouth against his. She was aflame for him. She dragged a hand down his back, trembling at the sound of him sighing into her mouth.

  “Oh, God,” he gasped, pulling back. “Catja,” he laughed weakly, “we’d better stop.”

  She gazed up at him, appreciating the restraint. And then, like a gentleman, he helped her to her feet. Her steps felt lighter than air as he escorted her back up the hill.

  They wove into the village, the man on her arm unusually contemplative. Some of the Oca were just beginning to settle, mothers readying their children for sleep, a few elders already snoozing on blankets by their small fires.

  The lantern still shone inside her tent. Their elongated shadows stretched across the soil, two tall, flickering giants exchanging one last, chaste goodnight kiss. Catja warmed from head to heel, as if she’d swallowed the sun. There was just one thing left to be said.

  “Drew?”

  His fathomless eyes fastened onto her. “Yes, Catja?”

  “I owe you an apology.”

  He shook his head slightly. “What for?”

  “Misjudging you.”

  He said nothing.

  “I admit,” she laughed a little, “I never knew you had this side to you.”

  “Neither did I.”

  Her laughter faded. She glanced down, not sure how to get the next part out. “I want you to know that I’ve…come to care for you. Very much.”

  She was surprised by the touch of emotion in his whisper. “No one’s ever told me that.” His gaze softened over her. “And I’ve never cared about anyone so much as I do for you, Catja. I mean it.”

  He brushed his thumb over his heart. Catja watched his shadow disappear down the dirt path, knowing for certain she was clay in his hands. How extraordinary, how unexpected, to find love in the last place she would ever think to look.

  She dropped her face into her hands, overcome. She was in love with Drew Cosmith. She wanted to shout it from the cliffs, profess it to every rock, river and tree on the island. She closed her eyes, replaying his hungry kisses, his tantalizing touch, in her mind. Catja Lovell had finally let herself fall.

  And Drew was the one to catch her.

  Johanna rolled onto her side, groaning. She didn’t know which was more of a pain: her belly or her back. Sunlight was already blaring through the open peak of her tent. And to make matters worse, people outside were arguing.

  She crammed a hand over her ear. Crazy Oca. What was there to yell about so early in the morning anyway?

  It wasn’t until she recognized the words—and the voice—shouting back in Halvean that her eyes popped open. “What on earth have you done now?” she grumbled, positioning herself on all fours. Carefully, she rolled up to her feet and placed a hand on her hip, arching her back. She stretched her dress over her stomach so that it fell straighter, before emerging from her shelter.

  At once, Johanna knew something was wrong. Zuri stood in the center of the village, holding up what looked like a square of parchment, his voice raised. A back-and-forth blend of Ocanese and Halvean permeated the village. Concerned Oca were gathering in a circle to listen, Jordinian guards sprinkled among them.

  “…you don’t understand!” Andrew was shouting, reaching for whatever Zuri held. “I’d forgotten all about it. I wasn’t going to use it, honestly!”

  Johanna shoved her way to the front of the throng. She came up between a set of guards whose hands clutched their hilts, should Drew require their defense. She craned her neck to look up at Bram. “What’s going on?”

  Before he could answer, more yammering broke out in the back of the crowd, and a line of bystanders moved aside. Catja made her way through, looking just as puzzled as Johanna felt.

  “Professor,” Zuri thundered. “You promise they no colonist, no conqueror! But look what they plan.” He flashed the item in his hand again.

  Moving closer, Johanna could now see what appeared to be writing on parchment. She squinted. It looked like one of Ludwig’s maps, but it didn’t look like his penmanship.

  Catja took the page.

  “Cat—no!” Drew lunged forward, trying to take it from her, but a frowning Dag held him back. “It isn’t what you think!”

  “I find in his clothing,” roared Zuri, kicking aside a familiar brown jerkin that lay crumpled on the ground. “He leave at river.”

  Catja’s eyebrows came together as she studied the paper. Slowly, she turned it around. For a long moment, she looked like a woman who was sinking. Finally, she lifted her chin, her face like stone. “Care to explain this?” she asked Andrew icily.

  Johanna had never seen her brother so unhinged. “My darling,” he pleaded, struggling against Dag’s restraint, “you’ve got to understand, that was all from before—”

  “The Great Fall!” Zuri shouted over him. “The Bonghee mountain! He come to steal, to destroy, all along!”

  “You snake.” Catja flung the paper down. It landed on the dusty ground at Drew’s feet. “You liar. You’re everything I thought you were, from the beginning.” Her lip trembled. “And worse.”

  “Catja, please,” he begged, desperate, and Johanna’s mouth fell agape. Were those tears in his eyes? “Don’t think that.”

  “…the levels to which you stooped to gain our trust,” she was snarling over him, “trust you’ll never deserve!”

  Johanna was so stunned, she didn’t notice Ludwig and Kya. They entered the circle, stepping between Drew and the professor.

  All fell silent as Ludwig bent down to retrieve the paper. He looked it over, his expression morphing into one of deep sorrow.

  Johanna moved closer, looking over Ludwig’s shoulder, and her heart sank. She could see it now, in detail: sketches of minerals in the Hamaree River, plans to excavate them, a diagram of the Bonghee’s mountain and how to mine it for col….

  Catja’s eyes narrowed at her and Ludwig. “Is this your doing, too?”

  Ludwig gaped as though she’d slapped him. “Of course not.” He looked to the chief’s sons, Dag and Zuri, the shock evident on his face. “I told him n-not to.”

  The chief was approaching, everyone making way. Johanna hid behind her brother.

  “After everything we do for Jordinian man,” Zur
i glared at Drew, red-faced, “fight for him, risk life of Oca and Bonghee, he deceive us! Traitor.” He continued his diatribe in Ocanese, snatching the map from Ludwig and displaying it for the village to see. As he raged, foreheads furrowed; women looked down; men balled their fists, their mouths tightening. The guards bristled, but Drew shook his head at them, a soundless command to stand down.

  “Zuri.” The old chief cut into his son’s rant. He placed a hand on his shoulder, and the younger man fell silent, swallowing hard. The chief spoke to Catja, his voice gravelly, eyes flat.

  Catja translated in a tone devoid of emotion. “He says it is time for you all to leave, and never return.” Her face closed completely, like a sealed vault. “Furthermore, if any mainlander should come back, he wants you to know that the Oca will die defending their sacred lands. All of the tribes shall unite against you, on every island.”

  Johanna looked to Ludwig, who was clenching Kya’s wrist, aghast. “No,” he cried. Her heart broke to imagine the couple torn apart. Poor Kya would be left in shame once more. And Vigo, sweet Vigo, would never recover.

  She took a breath, shutting her eyes. When she opened them, she knew what she had to do. “Professor,” Johanna stepped forth, “please tell the chief he can’t do this.”

  Catja surveyed her emptily.

  “Tell him….” Johanna inhaled. “Tell him I cannot travel in my condition. I came to the islands to have my baby, and I won’t leave before then.” She tried to ignore the soldiers’ stares. And she didn’t dare connect glances with either of her brothers.

  Catja gave her a long look. At last, she spoke to the chief. When the old man turned to examine Johanna, his face skeptical, she knew she had no choice. She lifted her dress, clenching her teeth amidst the gasps breaking out at the sight of her round, prominent belly.

  Decently humiliated, she covered herself again. She spoke only to Catja and the chief. “Don’t make me return like this. At least let me have the child and decide what to do with it, and what to tell my family. And then my brothers and guards shall take me home.”