The Stone Prince i-1

by Gena Showalter

  She didn’t want to look. How embarrassing! She didn’t want to study her flaws while he watched. “No.”

  “Look,” he beseeched. “Look.”

  Because he asked so sweetly, she did.

  “Do you see how graceful your legs are? How pink and ripe your nipples are? And the curve of your hips excites me every time I gaze at you.” Each place he named, he touched—a featherlight touch that caused her breath to hitch. He whispered all sorts of things in her ear. Hot things that made her ache. Erotic things that made her blush. Sweet endearments that made her weep.

  Then he began speaking in his native tongue, a lilting language that floated over her, arousing her in a way she’d not imagined. His hands were all over her—hands she could feel and now see as well. Her legs shook with the force of her desire.

  “What do you feel when I touch you?” he asked, never removing his hands.

  “Fire,” she panted. “Pure fire.”

  “’Tis the same for me. Think you a woman lacking feminine graces could heat my blood so thoroughly?” That said, he parted her legs and took hold of her waist. Then he entered her from behind, slowly pushing all the way inside, making her cry out in bliss.

  Even through her passion-glazed mind she understood the impact of his words.

  My God, she thought, suddenly panicked. I truly could fall deeply and irrevocably in love with this man—only to lose him.

  HEATHER MERCER LAY on her small twin bed, shivering with cold. The thin, ragged blanket covering her did little to keep her warm. The night air was tepid and laden with summer scents, so there was no reason for her to feel so chilled. But lately, nothing seemed to make her warm. Not coffee or hot chicken soup. Not thick flannel jackets or black leather gloves. The coldness came from too deep within her.

  Trying to distract herself from her shivering, she allowed her mind to drift. Tomorrow she would begin working with Katie James, a prospect Heather loathed almost as much as she was grateful for. She needed the money, but the thought of spending hour after hour with the too-perfect woman made her stomach knot. How many reminders did she need that some people were blessed with happy, normal lives—and some people were not?

  Around Katie, Heather always felt dirty and used. Like a cheap piece of furniture in a room full of glorious antiques. Katie had everything. Money. Talent. Love. Jorlan looked at her as if she were gold, and Katie spoke of her brothers as if they were gods.

  Perhaps if Heather had had a brother, he would have protected her from her father. Would have protected her from the long string of men who had used her over the years as she searched for someone, anyone, to make her whole. Rolling to her side, Heather clutched her pillow to her body, pretending the soft down was the heat of a man, a man who considered her more important than a six-pack of beer. A man who thought she was worth more than what rested between her legs.

  After a while, her thoughts tapered off and she slowly descended into darkness. A minute passed, or maybe an hour, when her mind shouted for her to awaken. She was toasty warm. So deliciously warm. The sound of a deep, male voice chanted quietly in her ear, and she stretched languidly, loving the depth of her dream.

  The man spoke again, and this time she understood him. He uttered a single word: Awaken.

  Her eyelids fluttered open. A strange man hovered above her. Fear sparked to life inside of her, an old familiar fear she’d endured her entire childhood. She tensed, tried to jerk away, to cry out, but the man chanted something else, something that lured her to relaxation. Everything around her slowly became hazy and distant, like a new, wondrous reality. Peace she could not explain settled over her.

  Slowly breathing in and out, Heather totally and completely relaxed. Her arms and legs felt shackled to the bed, but as she gazed down at her body, she saw that she was free. Why then could she not move? Oh well, it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to move. She was happy right where she was.

  “You’re dreaming,” she heard echo softly in her mind.

  Yes, she was still dreaming, a glorious dream she never wanted to awaken from. Hadn’t she just wished for a man to warm her? Yes. Yes, she had, and her wish had come true in the form of this twilight apparition. An apparition that felt strangely familiar to her. Sighing, she settled into the firm male chest and stared up at his face. Her breath snagged in her throat. He was so beautiful; his features were strong, chiseled and classic perfection. Such physical perfection unnerved her, and she didn’t like it. But she didn’t try and pull away. He was keeping her warm, after all.

  “Who are you?” she whispered.

  “Percen.” The low timbre of his accent, an accent very much like Jorlan’s, made her shiver with feminine awareness.

  “Percen,” she repeated, liking the sound on her lips.

  “I’ve come for you,” he said.

  Her eyes widened with surprise. “Me? I don’t understand.”

  “You belong to me.” His eyes bored into her, making her shiver as currents of heat continued to race inside her veins. “Only me. You will never belong to Jorlan again.”

  She liked those words too much to correct him. Yes, she’d wanted Jorlan at first, maybe to hurt Katie, or maybe because she’d thought Jorlan was someone else, someone who could help her overcome her past. She felt nothing for him, though, and she certainly hadn’t ever belonged to him. But this man…this man she wouldn’t mind belonging to. She’d been many things in her twenty-two years, but never a woman who belonged.

  “Since I’m yours to do with as you please,” she said, “what are you going to do with me?”

  He remained silent for a long while, as if debating within himself. “Tonight, I will simply hold you. Do you want me to hold you?”

  “Oh, yes.” She was so warm. Warmer than she’d ever been. “Hold me and never let me go.”

  “Soon I will make you mine in body. What think you of that?”

  “I think I’ve never been happier,” she said truthfully.

  He reached out and reverently traced the curve of her cheek, slid his finger up and over her eyebrow. She didn’t cringe as she usually did. She didn’t feel her mind burst with nightmares. She felt cherished. Worshipped. Here in the twilight, the impossible stirred in the air like magic. This wasn’t a room, and they weren’t lying in a bed. This was a secret haven far away from civilization and they were lying in a hidden grotto while birds and insects chirped around them.

  “Promise me you’ll stay with me,” she whispered. “Please.” She rested her head on his chest, praying this heavenly dream would last all through the night.

  “Worry not, angel. I will stay.”

  SEVENTEEN

  MIDMORNING SUNLIGHT PEEKED through the curtains, bright and luminescent. Jorlan lay flat on his back, one hand bracing his neck as he stared up at the ceiling. Katie was asleep and nestled deep in the crook of his arm. He’d meant to leave her alone this dawning, to allow her body time to heal, but the rope had beckoned and he’d longed to introduce her to the many ways of lovemaking. So he had, and she had welcomed the introduction most eagerly.

  Now however, when he should be sated, his thoughts refused to settle. For a man who valued control, he felt very…uncontrolled. He was moved to the core by the intensity of what happened each time he joined his body to Katie’s and could not wrap logic around the emotions still coursing through him. Simply saying he and Katie coupled did no justice to what occurred. Tupping was a pleasure, sometimes gentle, sometimes raw and carnal, a hunger that could be quenched by any number of things.

  What he’d experienced with Katie had been as intense and consuming as a third-season wind whirl. And by Elliea, he wanted to experience it again and again. The pleasure he felt with her was staggering, and no sooner had his pulse calmed than he had begun to feel the nagging need to possess her again. He hadn’t known he could get hard that often and that quickly.

  He knew how rare, how special, his encounter with Katie was. But did she? His little witch had no basis for comparison, for s
he had remained untouched until his possession last eve. He was not complaining. The knowledge that no other man had ever touched her body still awakened a possessiveness within him that defied reason. Yet virginity was not prized, nor expected in Imperia. Women reveled in their lovers just as men did. In fact, the more lovers a female took, the more prized she became, for her knowledge in heightening her partner’s pleasure was greatly increased. Besides Katie, every female he’d ever tupped had been experienced in the art of pleasure and some, like Maylyn, had even possessed more experience than he did.

  Katie was so different from anyone he’d ever known. His desire for her went beyond the physical, and now, more than ever, he wanted her to belong to him, with him.

  Forever.

  He could not deny it any longer. That he had once wanted her on a temporary basis seemed somehow foul to him now. Aye, she was mortal and he half sorcerer, but he was not concerned with that fact. He might very well age as the mortals did. He did not know for sure. But he knew cursed well that he could not tolerate life without Katie at his side.

  He cared for her, aye, he’d known that for a while; but he also admired her. He admired the way she stood her ground, the way she raised her chin and overcame whatever challenges were placed before her. He admired the way she never wavered in her beliefs, never raced away from his anger. She always faced him, square on, and never flinched. She was strong. Capable. Courageous. There was underlying steel in her backbone. Her bravery far surpassed that of any warrior he’d ever encountered. She did not need a keeper, was in fact well able to take care of herself. He favored that about her, as well, even while he craved the responsibility of protecting her.

  Careful to leave her undisturbed, he shifted, propping himself up on his elbow and gazing down at his bed-mate. In sleep her features were relaxed, giving her an almost childlike beauty. Stroking a finger across the curve of her cheekbone, he listened as she muttered something unintelligible. Contentment, so subtle yet so compelling—and a long time in coming—filled him.

  What were her feelings for him after their night of loving?

  He’d finally taken her, only to discover his own feelings had deepened. Had hers deepened, as well? He prayed that it was so. Another day had already been lost to him.

  Katie lay naked, not an inch of covering over her body and he vowed to keep her like that for the rest of their days. Glossy, pale locks surrounded her head in a tangled mass. Her lips were slightly swollen from his kisses. Pink scratches lined her breasts, stomach and thighs from his beard stubble. She looked sexy and completely sated. One seductive touch, however, and he knew an intense ache would ignite within her.

  He grinned, recalling how wantonly she responded to his touch.

  As if she knew the direction of his thoughts, Katie stirred in his arms. Slowly, she cracked open her eyes. Seconds ticked by. The sleepy mist surrounding her completely evaporated. Color bloomed in her cheeks. Memories of what they had done danced in her eyes, making the brown rims deepen to a rich, golden bronze. She looked tousled, as though she had just awakened from a vigorous bout of loving. Exactly how he wanted her to look every dawning.

  In that moment he knew he would not rise from the bed until he had her again, for having a woman had never felt so important. So necessary.

  “Good morning,” she said, her voice tinged with sleep. “Well, good afternoon, I should say.”

  “Aye.” He smiled. “’Tis indeed a good dawning.”

  “I, uh, guess I should make breakfast or something. I believe I promised you a seven-course meal the day we made love.”

  Made love, she had said. His heart drummed in his chest. ’Twas close to what he needed to hear, but not exactly right. “You are wrong. You promised me a seven-course meal the day you allowed me to massage your hair.”

  She returned his grin. “I’m sure you did that sometime during the night.”

  “That and more. But unless death is imminent,” he told her, “we will stay here a while longer.”

  “Okay. What do you want to do?” She traced a fingertip up his chest.

  He remained silent for a long moment, studying her every second of it. Her gaze sparkled through thick, spiky lashes. “You are too sore for bed sport.” But he knew he would do whatever was needed to make her ready.

  To his relief, she said, “I’m sore, but never too sore. I doubt I’ll be able to jog today, so I need some sort of workout. And I’ve been wondering…” Sweet and innocent, she blinked up at him. “How do you feel about being the slave of a queen?”

  “I think I would enjoy it. Immensely.”

  “Oh, you’ll do more than enjoy, slave. You’ll pleasure your queen until she can take no more.”

  And he did.

  AN HOUR LATER, Katie sat at her kitchen counter, a fresh protein shake in front of her. I’m a wildcat, she thought happily. She and Jorlan had made love so many times she’d lost count. She simply could not get enough of the man, and to her surprise, he couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

  A secret grin curved her lips and she shifted in her seat. The action made her grimace. Her body was sore from the night’s excess, sorer than she’d realized. But she didn’t regret a single twilight—or morning—experience. No, she rejoiced in the fact that she had plunged headlong into all the pleasures he offered.

  She took a drink of the cold liquid and closed her eyes in surrender. Perhaps orgasms caused women to experience things more clearly because suddenly, her senses were more attuned. Her shake had never tasted so delectable. The air had never smelled as sweet. Her clothing had never felt so delicious against her skin.

  If only she could spend the entire day abed, but she simply had too much to do today. Since Jorlan’s arrival, she’d gotten sorely behind schedule. The Victorian needed to be painted, inside and out, and she’d hoped to have that done by, well, yesterday. Yet she hadn’t even begun.

  Before they left, though, she wanted to watch Jorlan eat breakfast. Only twenty minutes ago, she’d done something she’d sworn she would never do again: she’d cooked for a man. Surprisingly, she hadn’t felt like a forgotten servant, hadn’t wanted to use toilet water or drop his toast on the floor. No, she’d worn a genuine smile while she baked, and now the fully cooked, sanitary meal waited atop the stove for his enjoyment.

  Jorlan sauntered into the kitchen, naked and unabashed. “Something smells wonderful,” he said, his voice husky with slumber. The moment he spotted her, he gave her a look she now recognized as carnal. That wasn’t what gave away his arousal, however. What gave him away was the erection straining long and thick between his legs.

  If Earth men had been so lusty, women would never leave the bedroom, she thought, or the kitchen counter…or the living-room floor.

  He stood behind her, leaned down and nuzzled her neck. “I think ’tis you, katya.”

  A sigh of tenderness swept through her, and she was reminded of a special treat she had for him. She swiveled her chair around to face him. “I have something for you.”

  “Hmm, I like the sound of that.” He leaned down to nibble on her collarbone.

  “Not that.” She laughed and swatted him away. “Open your mouth.”

  Though he hesitated, he did as she’d instructed. Hiding a secret smile, she reached out, lifted a Hershey’s bar from the counter, and snapped off the tip. She placed the little square onto his tongue.

  “Close,” she said.

  His lips snapped together. Then his eyes widened as the sweet taste coated his mouth. “Katya,” he breathed, his tone heavy with ecstasy and awe. “We must cover your entire body with this magnificent concoction.”

  Three hours, much chocolate and loving, breakfast and a shower later, they finally drove to the Victorian. Frances and Heather were already there, waiting on the porch. Had she known they planned to start early, she wouldn’t have allowed Jorlan to seduce her again. Well, she added after a moment’s thought, she wouldn’t have allowed him to seduce her so slowly.

  “Good
afternoon,” she said.

  Frances gave her an eager smile filled with enough light to rival the sun. “Good afternoon, yourself.”

  “I hope you haven’t been waiting long. Jorlan and I were…busy.” Unbidden, her blush told them exactly how busy they’d been and with what they’d been busy doing.

  Both of Frances’s brows furrowed together, and she blurted, “I thought he was off-limits.” Her weathered cheeks colored to a brighter shade of red than Katie’s own boasted.

  “He is to everyone except me.”

  He smiled at her oh, so sweetly for such a confession.

  Heather stood silently against the porch wall, old wood at her back. Surely the lumber splinters were digging through the pink fabric of her sweater, but she acted as if she was leaning upon soft, fluffy clouds.

  Something was different about the girl today. Something softer. There was a glow to her skin that Katie had never noticed before. Most puzzling of all was the fact that Heather never spared Jorlan a glance. In fact, she was pretending he didn’t exist.

  Wondering just what thoughts were spinning the wheels inside Heather’s brain, Katie led the group inside. Behind her, Frances gasped. “Oh, this place is lovely, Katie.” She paused. “Or it will be when everything is fixed.”

  “Katie will make this a spectacular residence,” Jorlan said, a note of pride in his tone. He flicked her a gaze. “She is good at everything she does.”

  The waitress gave him a strange look, as if she’d never heard such praise from a man’s lips.

  “Heather,” Katie began, “your mother mentioned that you have a talent for gardening.”

  Heather eyed her hopefully. “I guess I do.”

  “Great. You can start weeding and fertilizing the garden out back. Once that’s done, you can plant whatever flowers you want.”

  Brown eyes stared up at her with fragile optimism—optimism that seemed fresh and new. Had she never experienced the emotion before? “I’ll need a hoe and a mini shovel.”

  “All the necessary tools are in the shed.” That settled, Katie turned her attention to Frances. “While Heather works out back, I’d like you to work in the front.”