The Stone Prince i-1

by Gena Showalter

  He didn’t. He remained beside the open door. “If you are concerned about so long a drive,” he said, his tone deceptively soft, “we will not come back until the new dawning.”

  “No. Absolutely not. I’ve lost enough time because of you.”

  “Then I will see you later.” He settled himself inside the cab.

  “You don’t know which way to go.” Ha! That should stop him.

  The corners of his lips rose in another smug smile. “You have used this map all these many days.” He held up the booklet in question. “Think you I cannot do the same?”

  “You don’t know the names of the highways, and you can’t read my language. Besides that, I’ll turn you in to the police for stealing my car.”

  He sighed. “Much do I regret the use of force, katya.”

  His eyes were darkened, and she paused. “You haven’t used any force,” she said cautiously.

  “But I am going to.”

  Before she had time to blink, he was out of the car and closing the distance between them. With only minimal protest on her part, he scooped her up into his arms. She could have struggled or fought him harder, but she didn’t want to hurt him. Without a word, he dumped her into the passenger seat and settled himself behind the wheel.

  “Now you will go with me,” he said confidently.

  Katie made a grab for the key. He easily evaded her, then shoved the jagged metal into the ignition and started pushing pedals. Jerk. Stop. Jerk. Stop. A cold sweat broke over her, and she scooted to his side, trying to take control of the wheel.

  He held fast.

  If she saw one car, even one, headed toward them, she was going to shove Jorlan out the driver-side door—no matter how many injuries he would sustain. Or, maybe she’d press his carotid artery until he passed out. For now, they were alone on the road and she had time to gently make him rethink this.

  “You’re giving me whiplash,” she shouted.

  Unconcerned by her supposed pain, he continued on.

  “Do you want to kill us both? If you keep this up, you’re going to. And you’re going to ruin my truck! This trip is ridiculous. We don’t even have a change of clothes. We’ll have to come back tonight and then my butt will really hurt and you’ll be sorry because I’ll take it out on you. I have too much work to do on the house. I’m on the clock, you big jackass, and you’re going to pay me for my time.”

  “Are you trying to make me wish I’d cut off my ears and left them behind?” he growled, still not sparing her a glance.

  “Yes!”

  He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had long since turned white. The truck inched along the road, doing no more than five miles per hour.

  “I could walk faster than this, grandpa.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw, and the beleaguered expression on his face was almost comical. “You will clamp your lips together, katya, or I will do it for you.”

  “Then do it for me. I’m not shutting up. And know this. If you try and make me stay silent, there will be no one who can tell you that you’re going the wrong freaking way!” Before he could respond, she leaned forward and jerked the volume on the radio to full blast. Meredith Brooks belted out “Bitch.”

  The word instantly hit home, and Katie cringed. He didn’t deserve this. He just wanted to go home. Jorlan must think she suffered from permanent PMS. Maybe that was why he hadn’t touched her these last few days. He was afraid she’d attack and kill him in his sleep. Sighing, she turned down the radio. “Pull over,” she told him.

  “Nay.” The word emerged like the bark of a caged animal.

  “Pull over. I’ll drive us there.”

  His chin snapped around. He faced her hopefully. “You speak true?”

  “Yes, damn it. Now pull over.”

  He would have stopped right there in the middle of the road, so great was his relief. She pointed to the side. “Don’t stop here. Stop over there.” Once at a halt, they quickly switched places.

  “You really owe me for this,” she muttered.

  “I can very easily pay you once we arrive. I need only a bed and five minutes of your time.” The teasing sparkle was back in his eyes, and only then did she realize how much she’d missed it.

  “Five minutes?”

  “Nay. I have changed my mind.” His lips twitched. “I only need two.”

  Katie shook her head and turned them in the right direction. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

  “Aye. I know.”

  And she liked him that way.

  They drove in silence for about twenty miles, the soft hum of the radio the only noise. Katie felt Jorlan’s body heat, keeping her mind in the gutter. Perhaps she was, by nature, more sensual than she’d realized. Or perhaps she was simply carnally addicted to Jorlan, because her brain began to weave ribbons of fantasy through her mind. She saw it all so clearly. Jorlan would scoot closer beside her and trail his hand up her thigh, making her shiver and ache for more. His eyes would devour her as he whispered a provocation she could not ignore. I dare you to experience your ultimate pleasure, katya. And she would. Oh, she would. The hot tips of his fingers would push aside her panties and slip easily inside. He would stroke her then, first with leisurely slowness, like a deliberate brush of velvet across steel, then with eager swiftness.

  Perhaps he would take his fingers from her and place them in his mouth, as if he couldn’t live another moment without knowing the taste of her.

  “Katie?”

  The voice was real, not part of her fantasy, and she jolted into awareness. “What!”

  “Do you purposefully drive like this?”

  “Oh, God!” Amid honks and flashing middle fingers, she jerked the truck off the median and into the proper lane. She took a moment to collect her wits, slow her breathing and control her shaking—shaking that had nothing to do with bad driving. Lord, she wanted to explore his body, wanted to allow him to explore hers. She wanted to feel the hard ripples of his muscles, the smooth silkiness of his skin.

  “What were you thinking about?” he asked.

  Swallowing hard, she forced her attention to remain on the road. “I just can’t believe we’re doing this. Were you this impulsive at home?”

  “Nay.” He offered no more information. “What is this place like we are going?”

  “Pretty much the same as Dallas.” She had to keep him talking, had to keep herself distracted. “You know, you’ve told me about your family, but nothing really substantial about your world. What are the differences between Imperia and Earth, besides the fact that all of your women are slaves?”

  He took exception to that. “Women are not slaves on Imperia. They are merely the responsibility of their men.”

  She smiled at his set look. “There’s a difference?”

  “Aye. A slave must obey his or her master at all times.” He emphasized male slave to the point that the word his echoed in her ears long after he’d spoken. “They have no rights of their own. Ever. But a woman under a man’s protection is allowed to voice her opinion.”

  “As long as her opinion isn’t different from her man’s, right?”

  “Not in public, nay.”

  “Then there is no difference between a slave and a protected woman.”

  He sat up straighter in his seat, a clear indication he didn’t like the direction of her thoughts. “Do you purposely misunderstand? A woman is respected. Revered, even. A slave is nothing more than a possession, to be discarded at will.”

  “Discarded? Just what the hell does that mean?”

  “Just that the slave may be given or sold to another. I did not say I applauded the practice. Just that ’tis the way it is done. You will be happy to know I am beginning to see that not all women should be or need be taken care of.”

  Before she could reply to such a wonderful statement, the truck swirled and a loud “pop” rang out. Heart racing, Katie quickly pulled over to the side of the road.

  “What is wrong?”
Jorlan demanded.

  “Flat tire, I think.”

  That’s exactly what it was. A little less than forty minutes later, she had the tire changed. She could have done it in half the time if Jorlan had stayed inside the truck as she’d asked him to. But noooo. The barbarian had to stand over her shoulder, offering his opinion about everything!

  “Are you sure that goes there?” he had asked. “I would put it here.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Are you positive the truck will not flip over? That metal object is holding it at an incline. I would raise the truck from the middle.”

  “I’m sure you would.”

  “Are you turning the—”

  “I’m sure! I’m sure! I’m sure!”

  He began chanting something under his breath.

  The flat tire exploded.

  A strong blast of air and rubber sent her reeling backward. Jorlan loomed over her. He didn’t look concerned for her, though. No, he was frowning down at the slain tire as if it were deadly poison.

  “What did you do?” Katie demanded, jumping to her feet. Her pulse had yet to slow.

  “A spell,” he grudgingly admitted. “I’d hoped to help you.”

  “For God’s sake, never help me again!”

  “Not even to wipe the black soot from your face?”

  “Not even then!” Her nerves were on edge when they got back on the road a short while later. She was dirty and sweaty and hungry. Worse, she was dismayed. Katie didn’t like that Jorlan had watched her do so unfeminine a task. What man desired a woman who could beat him at sports, change her own tire, and kick his ass in a fight? No one, that’s who. Plenty of men thought of her as “just one of the boys.” She didn’t want Jorlan to think of her that way, too, which was a bit contradictory, she supposed, since she wanted him to see her as independent and capable.

  He was just so damn sexy, so masculine, and that masculinity needed a totally feminine counterpart. Her hands clenched. She’d just bet Jorlan preferred short, dark-haired women who wore dresses and lace and spoke with soft, angelic voices.

  Everything she was not.

  He didn’t want her anymore, she finally admitted. That he hadn’t touched her for three days was telling enough, but she’d continued to hope she was mistaken. If only he’d attempted to seduce her once in the last three days. Just once. She wouldn’t feel so…forgotten. Damn him, anyway. Somewhere out there was a man—besides Jorlan—who would accept who she was. This man would play basketball with her, take her to football games. And every moment they spent together, he would look at her as if she were the most beautiful, feminine creation God had ever produced. Not the way her brothers looked at her, but—

  Oh, no! Her brothers. She almost groaned. Her family worried more than most, and she knew they would send out a search party if they discovered her truck gone all night long.

  “Hand me the phone in the glove box,” she told Jorlan. Exasperation dripped from her tone.

  “What is this glove box?”

  She pointed.

  “Ask nicely.”

  They were back to that again, were they? Frowning, she dug the phone from the compartment herself and punched Erik’s private number. He was the most easygoing of the group, and would probably ask fewer questions.

  He answered after the third ring. “James.”

  “I’ll be in Lubbock for the night.” She didn’t waste any time.

  “What for?” Erik replied.

  “Just felt like getting out of town.” I’m becoming a compulsive liar, she thought darkly, and it’s all Jorlan’s fault.

  “What for?” her brother asked again.

  “I needed a break.”

  “You going by yourself?”

  “No.”

  “Well? Who are you going with?”

  She paused. Then offered simply, “Jorlan.” Before Erik could ask any more questions, she said, “Listen, I better go. Aren’t you always warning me about the dangers of driving while talking on the phone?”

  “All right, all right. Hint taken.” His deep, rich chuckle rang in her ear. “Lubbock, you said?”

  “Yeah.” An eighteen-wheeler whizzed beside them. The driver blew his horn and waved. Katie ignored him. “I’ll be fine, so no worries.”

  “Put Jorlan on the phone for a minute.”

  “I can barely hear you,” she said, then made static noises. “Must—be—” Grinning, she pressed End and the line went dead. Her grin only grew broader as she pictured Erik sputtering into his phone.

  A short while later she realized they were running out of gas. Her smile sloped to a scowl. She blamed Jorlan for this newest development. If he hadn’t insisted on this trip, a trip she hadn’t planned or packed for, she would have been safely ensconced inside the Victorian, not worrying about low octane.

  By the time they reached the nearest gas station, the truck was puttering on its last burst of energy. Glaring at Jorlan, she filled up the truck and tallied up another thirty-five-dollar expense. Katie strode inside, gathered up a few necessary items and approached the register. Jorlan owed her big-time for this, and he would pay—but not with cash.

  A few minutes later, they were once again eating up the miles.

  THE FOUR-HOUR TRIP TO Lubbock took them a little over seven, and the sun had long since set when they finally passed the Welcome sign. Katie’s rear end hurt, but surprisingly, her bad mood had evaporated. Being with Jorlan gave her a sense of joy that far surpassed any negative feelings.

  Right now, raindrops were hurling themselves onto the truck, creating several rivers that pooled together at the bottom of the windshield. As she peered past the wipers making perfect arches on the glass and listened to the storm billow in every direction, she maneuvered the truck into a motel parking lot. Not long after, she and Jorlan were the temporary residents of room number 314.

  “For dinner, let’s go to a restaurant. I’m sick of fast food,” she told him, heading back to the truck.

  He fell into step beside her. “What of the psychic?”

  “Closed. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning.”

  “With you ’tis always tomorrow.” He sighed.

  They had dinner at Blue Waters, a nearby seafood restaurant. Jorlan devoured his crab cakes with unfettered delight. By the time they stepped inside their hotel room, the moon had crested and slowly dripped a golden glow onto night’s shadows.

  The first thing Jorlan did was pick up the TV control and start pushing buttons. “What does this do?” he asked. In the next instant, images flooded the small black screen. Of course, her alien didn’t try to hack the television to bits as he had her answering machine. Why would he? Old reruns of Baywatch were playing—a boob marathon. Watching the show with an intense devotion that did the male species proud, he settled atop the bed, stomach down, elbows propped against his chin.

  Before Katie could relax as well, a little girl’s screams of “That’s my hamburger” seeped through the walls. The high-pitched words were shouted over and over again, then combined with another, more annoying voice, this one shouting, “Mom, Carrie isn’t sharing.” Soon a sharp ache was pounding in Katie’s temples.

  “I’m going out,” she said. It was either that or stomp next door with muzzles and a stun gun.

  Jorlan didn’t spare her a glance. “I will go with you.” His tone lacked conviction.

  “Are you sure you can tear yourself away?” she said dryly. “I’m going to Cahoots—a bar where people drink ‘lick her.’There’ll be loud music and rowdy people and no women in swimsuits.”

  “You will not go to this place alone. I will go. Or—” Now he leveled a gaze at her, his eyes suddenly sparking with passion. “Or we could stay inside this chamber. In this bed.” He eased to his feet and slowly approached her. “I have tried to give you time, katya, but that has not worked for me. Why do I not show you all that you will miss do you not wed me?”

  She didn’t retreat. No, she stepped closer as relief and happin
ess pounded through her. He still wanted her! And Lord, she still wanted him. Without another word, their lips met. On a moan, his tongue swept inside her mouth, hot and demanding. Jorlan cupped her breasts in his hands. Pure ecstasy rocked along her body.

  “I want to see you,” he whispered. He tugged at the straps of her tank top.

  “I want to see you, too.” She pulled his gray T-shirt from his jeans, and then…

  “Mom! Carrie took my shoes.” The little girl’s voice once again penetrated the walls. “Give those back, butthead. Mom! Make her give me back my shoes.”

  “Wait.” Breath ragged, Katie disengaged from Jorlan. Her first time was not going to be inside a rented room while the devil’s spawn played nearby. “We have to stop.”

  Something dark glimmered in his eyes, eclipsing his passion. “If this is your way to punish me, katya, because I forced you to come here, you chose wisely.”

  His words irritated her enough that she didn’t correct him. “If you’re a good boy for the rest of our trip, I’ll let you kiss me when we get home.” She meant it as a rebuke, but realized then that she wanted it to be an invitation.

  “Let us go before I no longer care that you have said nay.” Movements clipped, body stiff, he adjusted his “weapons.”

  Her nerve endings were still on fire, and if she didn’t leave soon, she was going to forget her reasons for ending their embrace. “Leave the spatula here, okay? Other people might not understand the reasons you carry it.”

  Of course, he paid no attention to her warning and brought the stupid thing.

  Cahoots was a large bar and club situated on the edge of town. Tumultuous rock music assaulted her ears as she and Jorlan stepped inside and meandered across thin, black carpet in search of a table. All around them, bodies gyrated to the fast-paced beat. Cigarette smoke created a thick, choking cloud that enveloped the dancers like a ghostly hand. Katie wanted to play pool, but all the tables were currently occupied.

  Jorlan’s expression was pained and stoic, though he seemed a bit shocked by the intimate way couples were dancing. They settled inside a booth. Katie set the empty beer bottles onto the nook behind them, clearing the table surface. Then, with a sigh, she settled in her seat and simply absorbed the atmosphere.