He jerked his head up. For just an instant, as he studied her, angry frustration blazed in his eyes. Then his face went blank, as if he'd smothered his anger like a man pinching out a candle. "So, you do love him."
Erin blinked, startled out of her outrage. "What? No—" She broke off, realizing the idea felt far more right than it had any business being. Straightening her shoulders, she rejected it firmly. "I've only known him a couple of days. Nobody falls in love that fast."
"It certainly isn't rational," the king agreed.
"But no more so than asking a perfect stranger to live with you," Erin pointed out. "I don't believe in love at first sight, Your Majesty."
"Actually, my proposal is entirely rational," Llyr said, moving to drop into a carved marble bench. "And as much as it pains me to say so, this has nothing to do with love." He paused. "At least, not yet."
She studied him warily. He was, after all, a king; it wouldn't do to anger him. Yet his bald-faced proposition was insulting. "So, Your Highness, what entirely rational reason do you have for wanting me to move in with you?"
"Ah." Understanding flooded his eyes. "You think I want you to be my consort. I'd wondered why you were insulted. No, that's not what I have in mind at all." He settled back into an elegant sprawl, extending both arms along the back of the bench. Only a blind woman would have failed to see his staggering beauty. "I want you to be my queen."
"Oh." Erin blinked and rocked back on her heels. Something glittering shot past her, but this time she was too stunned to notice. "Why?"
He shrugged, a lift of a brawny shoulder in his doublet. "You'd be good at it."
He had to be playing her, but she was damned if she could see why he'd bother. "What leads you to that conclusion?"
"I touched your mind, Erin. I've never met a female with more steel, more strength. When you decide on a purpose, you are utterly focused on it." He smiled slightly. "I have some familiarity with that trait. It's a good one in a ruler."
Erin lifted a brow. "I'm flattered, Your Majesty, but you've got an entire kingdom full of fairies here. Surely one or two of them is as stubborn as I am." And every last one of them was certainly more beautiful.
He shrugged. "But they're Sidhe. And there's a problem with the Sidhe; we're not a very fertile lot. Normally, that's more blessing than curse, since we're also immortal. If we were as prolific as humans, we'd quickly overrun the planet."
Erin studied him cautiously. Her first instinct was to give him a flat refusal, but she had a feeling that would be a very bad idea. Besides, there was something going on here, something she'd do well to understand. "So why do you need a royal broodmare? I assume that's what we're talking about."
He looked up at her, warning heat stirring in his eyes. No, this was not a man she wanted to piss off. "I'm not sure whether I find your bluntness refreshing or irritating. People are usually more diplomatic when dealing with me."
"I'm an American cop, Your Majesty." She spread her hands. "We don't even have royalty, and diplomacy has never been my strong suit anyway."
"Indeed?" he drawled, "I would not have guessed."
She smiled slightly, acknowledging the sarcasm. "All of which makes me an unlikely candidate for queen. Which begs the question: Why do you need children badly enough to offer me a crown?"
Llyr sighed. For a moment he looked almost vulnerable. "The Sidhe are not really immortal. We may not age, but we can die in battle—or from an assassin's knife."
"And like leaders everywhere, Sidhe kings make particularly attractive targets," Erin guessed. "Who's gunning for you, Your Highness?"
Llyr pulled a hand through his waist-length hair. "My brother, I'm afraid. Sixteen hundred years ago, shortly before he died in battle helping Merlin defeat the Dark Gods, my father divided his kingdom between the two of us. For centuries, Ansgar has dreamed of reuniting it."
"By killing you."
He nodded. "Yes. By killing me."
"Forgive the observation, Your Highness, but your brother sounds like a bastard."
"He is," Llyr said bluntly. "And I don't want him ruling my people. He'd abuse them the way he abuses his own."
"What happened to your other children? Surely you've had some in sixteen hundred years. Not to mention a queen or two."
"Oh, yes." His eyes turned inward and brooding. "Unfortunately, those around me don't seem to have as much luck dodging assassins as I.I lost my fifth queen a century ago. My last son died two years past. He was little more than a boy—only one hundred and ten—when one of Ansgar's magical assassins struck him down as he hunted a Dark Beast."
Erin shook her head. "All right, I see why you need a palace full of heirs, though none of this fills me with enthusiasm for giving them to you. But why me? Realspace Earth has a population of six billion, half of them women, a good chunk of those highly fertile and unmarried. Any of them would leap into your arms with hosannas of thanksgiving."
"I don't need a human wife. I need an immortal with powers of her own, yet all the fertility of a mortal."
"So you proposed to the first Maja who came along?" Something shifted behind his opalescent eyes, and she knew. "Oh. There've been others."
He shrugged. "A Maja's first loyalty is to the Great Mission."
She rocked back on her heels and studied his otherworldly beauty. "It must be, if they turned you down."
"Actually, the Majae's Council wouldn't even let me approach any of them." His wide mouth twisted in frustration. "The Council has a tight grip on its witches, and no intention at all of relaxing it."
"And then I came along." Erin folded her arms. "An outlaw Maja facing the possibility of execution, with no commitment to this mission of theirs and in desperate need of protection."
Llyr looked up at her sharply. "I meant what I said. I want you for my queen because of your strength and courage as much as any practical consideration. And you have the strongest natural talent for magic I've ever seen in someone not a member of my direct family. All you need is instruction in its use, and it would be extremely difficult for anyone to touch you, even my brother's assassins." His eyes sharpened. "Or the Knights of the Round Table."
All right, how the hell was she supposed to get out of this without pissing him off? She could think of only one argument this hardheaded, strong-willed man would have to accept. "That's fine, Your Highness, but what about my children? What kind of mother would knowingly bring a child into a world where he's a target the minute he's born?"
"Ansgar's assassins never managed to touch my offspring in childhood. I surrounded them with bodyguards and wards to keep them safe. It was only as they became adults and chafed under my protection that they became vulnerable." He caught her hand in his. "And by then, they were seventy or eighty years old. How long would your children live, Erin?"
"Still—"
His long fingers tightened on hers, warm and strong. "Give me a chance, Erin. My people need you. I need you."
Looking into those beautiful, demanding eyes, it was hard to tell him no. "Your Highness—" She sighed. "If we were in love, it might be different."
Llyr's opalescent gaze hardened, though his tone was light. "Well, milady, if it's love you want…" Sudden heat flashed from his fingers into hers. Erin actually felt it roll up her arm in a shimmering wave that made her gasp even as her nipples drew to tight buds behind the thin fabric of her T-shirt. Low in her belly, lust roared to sudden life. She stared at Llyr helplessly, her eyes tracking from his sensual, perfect mouth to the broad expanse of his shoulders, and down to the bulge growing swiftly behind his codpiece. Deep, intimate muscles clenched as she felt herself run like hot butter with the need to feel him within her, driving hard and deep.
Even as her body leaped in helpless response, hot temper stirred. "Stop," she gritted, trying to jerk her hand free. For a moment she seriously considered slugging him, king or no. "Dammit, cut that out!"
His brows lifted as he read the anger boiling beneath her need. A second spell rolled
from his fingers, this one cooling and soothing the vicious ache he'd created. He released her, and she stumbled back, fists clenched as she fought the need to hit him. "I meant only to make a point," he told her, his voice low and strained. "I could have lied to you to get what I wanted. I could have bewitched you into feeling something that's not real. But I wanted there to be honesty between us, even if that honesty did not serve my cause."
"I don't care if you are a king, Your Majesty," she growled, "I won't be forced!"
Llyr sighed. "Perhaps it wasn't such a wise thing to do at that." He hesitated. "You should know that anyone with my level of power could have done the same thing. However, there are ways to shield yourself. Techniques that will also allow you to control your powers more effectively so you don't find the energies of the Mageverse so distracting." He met her gaze levelly. "I can show you, if you're willing to permit it. I swear I won't violate your trust again."
Erin hesitated, studying his breathtaking face. Despite his little demonstration, she'd learned when he'd healed her that he had a deep core of ruthless honor. If he gave his word, he wouldn't violate it. Slowly she nodded. "If you can teach me how to shield myself, I'd like to learn."
Erin pushed open the chamber door and walked inside, a vicious headache pounding behind her eyes. A shaft of light fell across Recce's handsome face as he lay, sprawled in handsome exhaustion. She closed the door and crossed the room to him, feeling helplessly drawn to the shelter that big body offered.
She had worked with Llyr for the past three hours learning how to shield her mind from magical probes. By the time they finished, her face had run with sweat, but the last time he'd tried to reach into her mind, she'd been able to block him out.
Not that it was easy. Llyr was so damn powerful, keeping him out of her thoughts was like trying to arm wrestle Arnold Schwarzenegger. But she'd done it.
Now her hands shook with exhaustion as she peeled the T-shirt over her head and sat down on the edge of the bed to pull off her running shoes. She watched the first one thunk to the floor, remembering her conversation with the king just before he'd left her.
"It's a big palace, Erin," Llyr had said, as they stopped outside the door. "I could assign you another bedroom."
"I know," she replied softly. "But I'd rather be with him." Never mind that she couldn't say exactly why. "I'll sleep better." It was as good a reason as any.
The king's restless gaze turned toward the door as if he could see through the massive oak. "He's a good man," he said abruptly, then shrugged. "Or a good vampire, or magus, or whatever he chooses to call himself. He is honorable, certainly. Perhaps too honorable." He looked at her, and she was struck again by the raw beauty of those eyes. "Don't let that honor fool you into believing you're safe with him. He won't betray the Great Mission for love of you. Even if it meant spending the rest of his immortal life mourning your memory."
Erin had winced at the sting of his words—a sting all the more intense, she knew, because they were so true. "I know. But you know, Your Highness," she added gently, "you're an honorable man, too."
He looked at her for a long moment, then gave her a small, dark smile. "And you wonder why I'd offer you a crown." Giving her a small half-bow, he turned on his heel. But before he strode off, he looked back at her. "Join us for the evening meal when you wake." His gaze hardened. "I'll anticipate your answer to my proposal then."
She'd nodded tightly. "I'll… consider it."
The thing was, if not for Reece, she'd be seriously tempted to tell him yes. High-handed and arrogant and dangerous as he was, there was something about him that appealed to her. And it wasn't just his astounding male beauty, though that definitely had its appeal. She respected him—his intelligence, his power, his determination to protect his people. He'd do damn near anything to see them safe.
Which made him a very bad man to push. In that sense, he and Reece were a great deal alike.
Now she looked down at her lover as he lay in his deep vampire sleep. "It took me nearly thirty years to find a man I could love, and Geirolf promptly killed him," Erin said aloud. "And now I've met two more of you in the space of a week. Does that suck or what?" With a sigh she stood up to shuck out of her jeans, then, dressed only in her panties, climbed in the bed next to him.
His big body radiated warmth, and Erin spooned herself against him, letting herself luxuriate in his heat. Confident she couldn't wake him even if she tried, she twined one arm around his waist and let herself fully relax for the first time in hours.
She lay for a long time simply listening to him breathe, feeling his broad chest rise and fall in the curve of her arm. A sense of peace stole over her. It was as though she was finally exactly where she was supposed to be.
Odd, she thought sleepily. He's a vampire, yet nobody has ever made me feel this safe. Not David. Not even Llyr, powerful though he was.
Llyr's right, she realized suddenly. I'm in love with Reece.
Oh, this was bad, she thought, with a rising sense of panic. Losing David had wrecked her. Losing Reece would be even worse. He was so damn much more that David had been—more intelligent, more capable.
And more driven. The king was right when he said Reece's sense of honor would make him choose duty over her. Even if it destroyed him.
No. She'd been there, done that, and had no intention of sticking her head in the lion's mouth again.
Yet she couldn't bear the thought of turning her back on Reece. She'd lost one man she'd loved. She wasn't going to let another one fall without a fight.
There had to be something she could do.
Llyr.
Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Now, that had potential. The king had a hell of a lot of power, magically and politically. If she could harness it, she could use it to protect Reece from his Council.
And the only way to do that was to marry the king.
Under normal circumstances, she'd never consider it. But Llyr intended to use her, too—her, and the children she could give him.
She didn't much like the idea of bringing children into the danger swirling around the Sidhe court So she wouldn't. She'd tell Llyr they had to find a way to take care of this brother of his before she'd agree to give him children.
Suddenly Champion stirred against her, muscle flexing all along his powerful back. He murmured something in his sleep, his voice deep and rumbling. She lifted her head so she could see his face. He looked like a boy in sleep, his eyelashes long and dark as they lay against his cheekbone. Something in her heart clenched hard at the sight of him.
Erin sighed and dropped her head, snuggling her face against his back and breathing deeply of his scent
Deep in her chest, her heart ached from the weight of a love she knew had no hope at all—and the choice it was forcing her to make.
She fell asleep trying to decide on the best way to save him.
Reece woke to the mingled scent of Erin and another man.
Frowning, he lifted his head and looked over his shoulder. She lay spooned against him, her delicate body limp in sleep.
He inhaled again, sampling the air, and recognized the Sidhe king's scent.
Along with the far more familiar scent of Erin's arousal.
Reece glowered. The bastard had been romancing her again. And what was worse, she'd responded. He could smell it on her scent.
No, they hadn't actually made love, despite her arousal. Or if they had, Llyr hadn't come within her sex—though that left no shortage of alternatives.
And then she'd come to Reece's room and crawled in next to him wearing nothing more than her panties. Now she lay there, sprawled in innocent slumber, her pretty bare breasts mounded together as she lay on her side. Her nipples were flushed and pink, soft and sleeping, as though waiting for a male mouth to awaken them.
He wondered if Llyr had tasted those luscious little peaks.
Jealousy coiled through him like a snake until he wanted to turn into a wolf and howl. And rip out the Sidhe king's throat.
The strength of his own anger surprised him. He'd never been a jealous man; among the Magekind, you couldn't be. It wasn't uncommon to make love to a Maja, only to find she'd gone on to make love to one of your good friends the next day.
That had never bothered him. Magi needed the blood of Majae to survive, and Majae needed to donate it; unless they did, their health could be at risk. It wasn't personal.
This, though—this was very, very personal.
He rolled out of bed and began to pace, trying to burn off some of his anger. His deep, vicious jealousy was irrational, and he knew it. He and Erin had known each other barely three days, and she'd made no vows to him. No vows meant no betrayal.
That, however, was the voice of rationality, and he was feeling anything but rational at the moment.
Reece pivoted to pace in the other direction, and his gaze fell on her face. Her lips were parted as though for a kiss. He stopped in his tracks as pain stabbed him. He drew in a breath.
You're being an ass, he told himself, impatient with his own roiling emotions. He'd always despised insanely jealous men. Erin was not his possession; she was her own person, and she had a perfect right to want the Sidhe king. And why shouldn't she? Just look at the gorgeous palace he'd built, not to mention his beautiful Sidhe subjects. He was richer than hell, and so damn handsome he made Reece's back teeth ache.
And what did Reece have, after all? True, there was Champion International, but the company belonged more to his descendants than to him. Even if she'd wanted him, he was always being called off to some war zone or other on behalf of either the United States or Magekind.
His body was decent enough, but he'd always thought his face looked like ten miles of bad road, particularly compared to Llyr's inhuman beauty.
Why shouldn't she prefer the Sidhe to him?
But I Gifted her, a voice insisted in the back of his mind. I fought for her.
But Llyr had been the one to actually save her life. Without his kiss, she would have died.
Reece, on the other hand, had repeatedly talked about killing her.
Master of the Night Page 19
