by Anya Bast
“Not that. I meant going away from the Temple of Dreams.” She searched for a way to deny him without revealing her true reason for saying no.
“I assume that’s because it’s a safety issue. Yet, you know me. You know I would never—”
She laid her hand on his. “That’s not even a question.”
He looked down at her hand and she drew it away. “In any case, I’m not requesting sexual services from you.”
This was very odd. “What do you mean? You do know what I am, don’t you?”
“I want you to come with me to my house for a couple of weeks and meet my friend. You will be a visiting guest. Pretend it’s a vacation for you, one I’m paying you to take. No sex will be expected unless it is something that grows organically between you and Alek.” He paused. When he spoke next his voice was low and rough enough to send her skin into gooseflesh. “Or between you and me. Sex only if you choose it.”
“I always choose it, Byron.” She licked her lips, her gaze darting to the side as she remembered things best left to shadow. “I simply don’t understand the rationale for this.”
“Trust me, there is a purpose. You said it yourself—a courtesan’s value isn’t necessarily sex, it’s companionship. Alek needs your companionship.”
She looked at him. “Byron, I don’t know if this is a good idea.” He sat very close to her, his body heat radiating out and warming her through her clothing. She’d always wanted him and, apparently, nothing had changed where that was concerned. Looking up at him, she gave him a half smile and spoke with a playful lilt she didn’t feel. “After all, you’ll probably fall in love with me and, as you’ve pointed out, I’m dangerous. Your heart will be broken by the time the two weeks are up.”
“I was immune to you once and feel certain I can manage it again. In any case, while I admit to selfish reasons in choosing you for this, this is not for me. This is for my friend Alek. He needs the experience of a woman like you.”
“All right. And why does he need the experience of a woman like me?”
“I don’t mean in your capacity as a courtesan. I just mean you, everything you are. Your charm, intelligence, and ability to enthrall a man. You’re perfect to do this job, perfect without even trying and I’m not referring to your sexual abilities. Just your personality. As to the specifics of Alek’s situation, they’re not mine to reveal. Alek will have to tell you.”
“That’s very flattering.” In fact, those words coming from him made her heart race. “May I ask what your selfish reasons are?”
His proximity to her seemed to be in direct correlation to how fast her pulse sped. If he moved any closer she feared she’d have a heart attack. She’d been with many different men, but only rarely did they affect her this way.
Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned toward her, mouth growing closer to hers. “Can’t you guess?” he murmured. “Six years ago I could never have taken what I wanted and still respected myself. But now, after so many years have passed . . .”
“You want the one that got away.”
“Every which way I can get her.” His voice rasped against her skin and tightened her nipples. “If, of course, you wish for the same. I know you did back then. I remember.”
His lips found hers and brushed them softly. A shiver ran through her body at the touch. His hand came up to cup her nape as he rubbed his lips slowly across hers once, twice. Then he crushed against her mouth, parting her lips and easing his tongue within. He kissed her in a way few men did; with total control and determination. His lips and tongue were not tentative, gentle, or weak. He knew what he wanted and how he wished to make her feel.
Once, long ago, right before he’d left, he’d kissed her this way. Since then it had been the measure she’d used to judge all other kisses.
Her body reacted immediately, her nipples going hard and sensitive against the bodice of her gown. Her sex became warm. His hand found her skirt and bunched it up, finding the bare skin of her thigh and slowly moving up. The heat of his broad palm made her body flare to life and beg for the touch of him.
His hands on her made her wish he would push her back against the cushions and take her right here and now. She wasn’t sure she had the willpower to push him away if he wanted this from her. She could all too easily imagine his big fingers working the buttons of her bodice free and her bare breasts falling into his hands, could envision her skirts pushed up, panties down, and him between her spread thighs....
This was dangerous.
When he reached the lace edging of her panties and tried to push beyond it, she wiggled away from him, breathing heavy. He’d made her sex plump with arousal and her nipples pushed against the fabric of her dress. She took a deep breath and a moment to compose herself. He’d made a mess of her in no time flat. Apparently she wanted the one who’d gotten away too.
When she felt she could look at him without jumping on him, she turned her face to his. His eyes were darker and his face had a lean, hungry set to it. He was not the only one who was having problems resisting the chemistry they’d always shared. The expression he wore let her know that he might have come here for his friend Alek, but it was clear he was here for himself too. That pleased her.
His voice came out a barely restrained growl. “So you agree?”
“No,” she managed to push out. “I haven’t said yes yet.”
His eyes grew darker. Byron usually got what he wanted. This wouldn’t be easy. “What will make you say yes? You know I have enough money to pay you anything you wish—”
She shook her head. “It’s not about money. I have plenty of that.” Taking a calming breath, she met his eyes. “I haven’t met Alek. I don’t know him. Usually if I agree to any arrangement, I have interviewed and researched the potential client to my satisfaction.”
“I would never lead you into a situation where you would be in danger and, as I said, sleeping with him is not required.”
“Yes, of course. It’s just . . . you say no sex is expected, yet you’re giving me mixed messages.” Mixed messages that still made her body tingle. She sighed. “If you put a paid courtesan in a house with two men, sex is always implied. And I’m rather picky about whom I share my body with, Byron. Before I allow a new man into my bed, I talk with him at length, investigate his background. I don’t just jump between the sheets with anyone. I control every aspect of the relationship, right down to the sexual activities performed and the duration. Everything.”
“I understand.” He rubbed his chin, looking at her with eyes that saw too much. Then he murmured to himself, “I think I truly do understand.”
Annoyance flared. He didn’t know her anymore; he couldn’t understand anything. “What do you th—?”
He interrupted her flash of temper with an even tone that sapped her anger. “Then come with me to my house and meet him. I’ll pay you for an extra week to get to know Alek and make your decision. If you don’t like Alek and cannot bear to spend three weeks in his company, we’ll forget it. I’ll have you on a transport back to Milzyr the moment you wish to leave.”
She pressed her lips together, considering him. There was much she’d do for this man. This situation was highly irregular, yet . . . it was Byron asking her to do it. Her clients could be notified that she might be gone several weeks. Honestly, maybe the break would be good . . . for all of them. Byron’s words had given her pause. Perhaps she wasn’t helping her clients the way she’d always assumed. Maybe she was causing them pain, keeping them from finding suitable companions they could enjoy for the long term. Maybe she was just helping herself.
Maybe she was making men pay for what had happened to her so long ago. Perhaps part of her enjoyed the fact she could hurt them emotionally. The thought chilled her blood, but it wasn’t the first time it had crossed her mind.
Cruel indeed.
“All right, I agree, but I refuse to accept payment from you.”
“Refuse? Lilya, I don’t think—”
S
he held up a hand. “Not after all you’ve done for me.”
He shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“Byron, I have more money than poor old dead Czz’ar Ondriiko ever did. I don’t need any more.” She considered him, remembering that the man in front of her was heir to a fortune of unimaginable magnitude. “Actually, I will require that you pay. I will double my fee to boot, since there are two men involved, sex or no sex. However, you will not pay me. Your money will go Angel House in Milzyr. Is that agreeable?” Angel House was the poorest orphanage in the city.
A smile broke his craggy, compelling face. “I will certainly agree to those terms. Angel House knows my pocketbook well.”
“Fine.” She swallowed hard and smoothed her skirts to mask her shaking hands. She’d just agreed to spend the next three weeks with Byron. Fear and anticipation warred within her.
He considered her for a moment. “Come with me right now. Pack a bag and let’s go. I want your company for the next three weeks and I want it to start immediately.”
She grinned. “Do you always get what you want?”
The light smile he wore faded. “Yes, Lilya, I do.”
Something in his voice made her feel heavy. “I’ll go pack my bags.”
“I’ll be waiting outside in my carriage.”
Three
After Lilya packed, she told Ariana where she was going and deflected her well-meaning concern with a quick explanation about her history with Byron. Then she left instructions with a messenger to send word of her absence to her clients.
Of her two remaining clients, Edgar would be the most affected by her absence. He was a gentle, soft-spoken man without any family and few friends because of his shyness. A wealthy banker, he didn’t have much in his life besides her and his work. Her hand shook as she wrote the note to be delivered by the courier.
She stopped for a moment to more deeply consider her relationship with him. Perhaps it was time she impressed upon Edgar just how inaccessible she was to him in any way beyond the bed. Perhaps it would force him to look for a wife. He deserved a good woman to love him for the wonderful, warm person he was. At the end of her note, she added as much.
Orrin was her other client. He was a nice man, with nice hands and a nice way about him, a solicitor with no family or friends to speak of. She was his only real companion in the city, though she didn’t think he would take her absence very hard. Orrin was a natural loner, happy enough to spend his free time in the company of a good book.
Taking her bag in hand, she stepped out of the Temple of Dreams and was met with the view of a gleaming black-and-gold carriage with a matching set of four ebony horses. Byron never did anything without style—even if it was a hired carriage. At least it wasn’t one of those metal contraptions that belched smoke and was more and more frequent on the streets of Milzyr now that the royal family had fallen and the inventions they’d suppressed were in common use. Horses might leave mounds in the middle of the street, but at least they didn’t smell of burning oil. Plus, the sound of horse hooves on the ground was far more pleasing than the bone-grinding noise of gears.
The carriage driver opened the door for her and helped her in. Byron sat half in shadow, wearing a hat that she wanted to take off so she could run her fingers through his thick dark hair. Her hands practically itched to do it. If she was able to bed this man, taking Byron’s offer would be no hardship at all.
Her cheeks touched with a little pink at her thoughts as she settled down opposite him. “I understand we’ll have to take the steam transport to your home.”
“Yes, but it’s not a long ride. Only a couple of hours. We could take a carriage the whole way, but the transport is a much smoother and shorter journey. I take the transport into Milzyr at least weekly these days, since I’m working closely with Gregorio Vikhin and the university to institute a magickal intervention and studies program.”
Her head snapped up so fast at Gregorio’s name that her hat slipped to the side. She righted it. “You are? You know Gregorio?”
He nodded. “I understand you are friends with that family.”
“I only just met with Evangeline this afternoon at a café.”
His eyes went darker. “I admit I’ve asked after you several times.”
So that’s how he had such insight into her current life. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “I didn’t know you had any connection with them at all.”
“It’s relatively recent.”
“Why do you have anything to do with the magickal intervention and studies program? Are you funding it?” It was a new initiative from the government to draw out the former J’Edaeii who had gone into hiding during the revolution and draw them in to study and apply their magick in the real world.
He held her gaze. “I do fund it, but I also have a secret.”
“A secret?”
“It’s not something I could have told you before, but I have a bit of magick. Only a bit. I never would have been a candidate to be J’Edaeii when the royals were in power.”
Before the revolution three years ago, those citizens of Rylisk who were known to possess the ability to wield magick had been taken—sometimes forcibly—to Belai Palace and trained. When the magicked had reached the age of majority, they’d been tested on the strength of their powers. If they’d passed, they’d become J’Edaeii, and were jeweled. A precious gem had been set at either the base of the spine or at the back of the neck, depending on their genders. It meant they were “good enough” to marry into the royal family.
Basically, it had been a way for the royals to correct centuries of inbreeding that had leached the magick from their once-powerful genetic line. The J’Edaeii had been considered sanitized of their common birth, their genes fit for inclusion into the royal line. During the revolution most of the royals had been executed. The rest were now exiled. In the chaos of what was now referred to as the Bloody Winter, many of the J’Edaeii had also been rounded up and sent to the guillotine.
Most of those who had escaped were living in secret, afraid to make themselves known to the general populace. It was only now, three years later, that the previously jeweled members of society were daring to step out into the light.
It was a shame, in Lilya’s opinion, since the magicked were a national treasure. Rare and as precious as the gems that nestled in their skin. Evangeline was a former J’Edaeii, as was one of her husbands, Anatol.
She sat up in her seat, studying his face. She never would have guessed Byron to hold such abilities. “Magick? What kind of magick you do you have?”
He snapped his fingers and a blue flame appeared in the center of his palm. He walked the flame over his knuckles the way another man would walk a coin. Soon it sputtered and died. “It’s little more than a cheap trick. All the same, my parents kept my magick hidden from the royals when they were in power. They worried I would be forced to go to Belai for training. I hid my power for so long I nearly forgot I possessed it. I assume it’s a throwback to the royal blood in my veins.”
She understood that Byron had been distantly related to the Edaeii, but it wasn’t common knowledge. His father had been considered part of the merchant class with a business of mining elusian crystal, a substance that powered lights and other small devices. The Andropov family gave much charity to their town of Ulstrat and was loved for treating their elusian miners well, so the family had been safe during the revolution. During the uprising and the beheadings of the nobles that had followed, she’d worried incessantly about Byron. Anyone without that telltale son or daughter attached to their last name, marking them as low-born, had immediately been pegged as noble and targeted.
Byron continued. “Alek also has magick, though his is much stronger than mine. In fact, that’s why I want you to spend some time with him. I think you can help him with his abilities.”
She frowned, trying to track what he’d just said. “You mean you think I can help him develop his magick? I have no magickal abi
lity, Byron, and even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to help anyone with theirs. You do understand what I am, don’t you? I’m a paid companion. Nothing more.”
“I disagree, my beautiful.”
“Byron, really—”
“You’ll understand better when you meet Alek.”
She studied him, wanting to ask more, but he’d turned his attention out the window and seemed unwilling to elaborate. Silence reigned for several minutes before she finally tried to press him a little more. “Is there anything I need to know that you’re not telling me?”
“There’s not much I can tell you myself. I can say that Alek thinks his magick means nothing and I think it means everything. I’m hoping you can open him up to the possibilities of the world beyond logic. He’s locked down, tight in everything he does. There’s a reason for it, one he needs to get past. You have some experience in getting over traumatic events and carrying on with your life.”
Ah, a kindred spirit, then. Or so Byron thought. She still doubted she could help this Alek, but she was impressed that Byron was going so far out of his way for him. “Why do you care so much about this man?”
His gaze met hers and held. “He’s a very good friend and I have known him since childhood. He has no family, only me. I have no family left either. I want everything good for him—the best. Therefore, I want you for him for three weeks. Long enough for him to enjoy you.” He grinned. “Perhaps long enough for him to fall in love with you. He needs a jolt to his heart. I think you will do the job nicely.”
She smiled and looked down into her lap. “You flatter and you’re unrealistic. I don’t understand how being around me will unlock the magick in him. I have no special powers. I’m just a woman.”
He slid closer beside her, caught her chin, and guided her gaze to his. His eyes looked heavy with arousal. “Then you don’t know half your worth, Lilya.” His voice was low and rough. It sent a tremor through her.
