The Stone Prince

by Gena Showalter

  "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 happiness 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.

  "What do you think?" she shouted over the music a short time later.

  His nose wrinkled. "'Tis...interesting."

  Her lips twitched, but she managed to subdue her grin. "Wanna drink?"

  He gave a single shake of his head.

  "Well, I do. I'll be right back." Katie worked her way to the bar. By the time she reached the shiny mahogany wood, Jorlan was beside her. Two bartenders were on duty, mixing drinks and popping beer caps. A woman stood off in the corner drying glasses; her bright orange nail polish gleamed from the overhead lighting. Her hair was a deep, rich purple. She had a cigarette clamped between her pink, glittery lips; her eyebrow was pierced, and she had a row of cowboy hat tattoos down her right arm.

  Katie purchased rum-and-Coke for herself and a 7-Up for Jorlan, knowing he wanted nothing to do with "lick her" unless it involved a tub full of naked women. Her fingers tightened on the glass at the thought of him with other women. She practically shoved the drink at him. "Here."

  One of the male bartenders gave Jorlan a twice over, his eyes growing wide. "Hey, aren't you--holy shit. I can't believe this. Man, you're like Mike Calman, the best lineman ever to play for the Wyoming Wranglers. Will you sign this for me?" He slid a napkin over the bar surface.

  At the words Mike Calman several people turned and stared at Jorlan. An avid sports fan, Katie had watched Mike Calman lead his team to several major victories over the last two years, and she didn't think Jorlan looked anything like the famed football star. Within moments, however, an entire group was surrounding him, asking him questions like, "Where's your Super Bowl ring?" "Who's going to replace Coach Garedy?" "Are you thinking of playing for the Cowboys?"

  Katie had no idea how Jorlan answered, but whatever he said, the people were charmed. To those who bothered to spare her a glance, she tried to explain Jorlan wasn't a professional football player, but her protests were laughed off. Finally, she'd had enough and she tugged on his arm. "Let's go back to the table, Mikey."

  He nodded, albeit reluctantly.

  She was just turning back to her table when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the purple-haired woman behind the bar approaching. Her eyes were filled with purpose, and not even her thick, spiky mascara could mask it.

  "Anything I can help you with, sugar?" she asked Jorlan. "We don't get many professional ballplayers in here, but I'm sure I can come up with something to keep you entertained."

  Liberated women were a nuisance, Katie decided. "Mr. Calman here just wants to relax. In private."

  The woman kept her attention on Jorlan as her gaze darkened with disappointment. Somehow, she was still able to convey hot, sexual interest. "You sure, sugar? I'm real good with...balls."

  "What do you have in mind?" he asked.

  Katie stiffened. How dare he! She'd brought him to Lubbock out of the goodness of her heart. He owed her a little consideration. And coming on to a starstruck bartender was not her idea of consideration.

  "I'm Rinnie, by the way, and a big fan. I swear on the Lone Star Flag that I've never seen a lineman with more power." She squeezed his bicep for emphasis. "Do you mind if I show you off upstairs? The girls are gonna want to meet you."

  "I do not mind, nay."

  "I didn't know you had an accent. It's so cute." Rinnie grinned, a wide grin that spread from ear to ear and revealed slightly crooked, yet utterly endearing front teeth. "Come on. I'll introduce you to some people. Upstairs is for our VIPs and you, Mike Calman, are definitely VIP. Very Irresistibly Packaged."

  So upstairs they went, though from the frown Rinnie shot her, Katie knew she wasn't welcome. Katie's teeth ground together with every step. There was a crowd of people, an equal mix of men and women, situated in one large room, talking and laughing. The entire area looked more like a restaurant than a bar. Small, round tables were situated around a tantalizing buffet of enchiladas, rice, cheese sauce and chips. Katie's mouth watered, but she made no move to eat. She was too busy guarding her VIP. Not that her death-ray glare was doing any good. Like a pack of bees, everything female swarmed around Jorlan as if he were a pot full of honey and they had to eat him or die.

  Rinnie made the introductions. "Hey, everybody. I'm sure you know who this gorgeous man is, so I won't bother introducing him. Just show him a real good time, you hear, so he'll come back and visit us." She leaned into Jorlan. "You let me know if you need anything, anything at all. I'll just be downstairs."

  All of a sudden everyone wanted a piece of Mike Calman.

  For the next hour, Jorlan talked and laughed with everyone but Katie, soaking up attention as if it was oxygen he needed for life support. Fuming, Katie plopped into a chair that was propped against the back wall. Every once in a while a brave man approached her and flirted, but her snappy retorts combined with the prepare-to-die glares Jorlan sent them caused each man to make a hasty retreat. Once she found herself alone again, Jorlan would turn back to whatever woman he was flirting with and ignore her.

  She wasn't sure exactly what he was doing. Teaching her a lesson, perhaps, for ending their kiss too soon? The moral being that if she didn't snatch him up, someone else would? Oh, yes, that was exactly what he was doing, she realized as she looked, really looked into his eyes. They were glazed with hard-edged determination, not enjoyment. Lord, how many times had she watched her brothers do the same thing to their women?

  Well, she could teach Jorlan a lesson. It was about time he learned that Katie James knew how to play the Dating Game! Unfortunately, she had run most of the men out of the room, so her choices were limited. She motioned a short, round man over with an I'm-very-limber smile.

  He eagerly joined her.

  Jorlan watched Katie interact with the newcomer; she smiled and laughed and acted as if she'd been lost in a desert for an entire span and the chubby man could provide her with water. Black fury surged within him so potently he craved the long, sharp length of his talon. He saw the man latch on to her shoulder--a man who would die if he didn't remove the offending appendage immediately.

  Katie said something to the marked-for-death man. Plump cheeks turning red, he huffily marched away.

  Jorlan relaxed. Better. Much better. By her own doing, Katie belonged to him. She'd kissed him. Allowed him to sleep next to her bed. She'd even listened while he spoke of his family. No other man was allowed to touch this woman who was to be his life-mate and live.

  Something brushed his jaw. He half turned his attention from Katie and frowned. The woman at his side was persistent, tracing her fingertip over his face. She'd offered him the use of her bed three times already, and had even slipped a key inside his pocket. He muttered something quick and impersonal in her direction, then once again went back to fully watching Katie. She was scowling, but she was alone.

  Just then, someone thrust a beer bottle into Katie's hand. She set aside her empty rum-and-Coke glass. She wasn't thirsty, but as she continued to cast covert glances in Jorlan's direction, she pictured herself in a boxing ring with each woman present and drank. Deeply. She'd never enjoyed the taste of beer, but before she realized what she'd done, she had consumed four bottles.

&n
bsp; A waitress arrived with a tray of Jell-O shots and nachos. "In honor of Mike," she said. Cheers circulated throughout the room and Katie found herself having one shot, then another without giving the nachos a second glance. Jorlan, she noticed, didn't even sip his water. He was too busy watching her. Had he learned his lesson? Not quite well enough, was her guess. Arching one brow, she looked over at him and raised her glass in a silent salute, a salute that said bite me. A leggy brunette, who was wearing a short spandex skirt and minitop, playfully jumped onto his lap.

  Who did he think he was, anyway? Only an hour ago he'd tried to get into her pants. Only three days ago--or was it four?--anyway, he'd asked her to marry him. She'd told him no. Big deal. That didn't mean he had the right to flirt with other women.

  Before she knew it, Katie had worked up a good steam.

  She jackknifed to her feet and propelled over to the snuggly couple. She pointed to the woman with a shaky finger. When had her hands gotten shaky? "Look here," she shouted. The noise level tapered to quiet. "The last woman who made a play for him ended up in the hospital."

  "Why?" the woman asked with a little, tinkering laugh. Obviously she thought Katie was joking. She flipped her main of glossy hair over her shoulder. "Did he lick her to death?"

  Katie's eyes narrowed. "No. I broke every bone in her body and ate her organs for breakfast." She said it with a lethal seriousness thrummed with icy determination.

  The brunette jumped up as though Jorlan had suddenly mutated into nuclear waste.

  "Now let's dance," Katie commanded Jorlan.

  A wicked gleam entered his eyes, and he stood, holding out his hand to her. She took it, glaring around her just in case someone decided to protest. Together she and Jorlan strode downstairs and stepped onto the dance floor. It seemed like he had to hold her up, though. In the short time she'd been upstairs, the lower level had somehow become tilted, and each time she moved, her head felt fuzzy.

  "That was quite a display, warrior woman."

  "Are you laughing at me?"

  "Aye."

  Well, at least he was truthful about it. Sighing, she rested her head on his shoulder. "You're too handsome, Jorlan. Do you know that?" Her lips clamped shut. Why had she admitted that aloud?

  His husky chuckle reverberated against her chest. "Tell me more. Tell me what you like about me."