The Stone Prince

by Gena Showalter

  "She's had a really tough life." Frances shifted from one foot to the other. "Her father, my ex, was a bad, bad man. He did things to her, and I didn't know about it until too late. When she turned twelve, she ran away from home. I didn't hear from her until about a year ago. She doesn't like me much, but she's been staying with me, and we're short on cash. And I--I thought," she stammered, "I'd hoped if you hired me, you might want to hire her. I swear on my ex's grave, may he forever burn in hell, that I can get us both here right after my shift at the cafe. And we'll work seven days a week if you need us."

  Most of the animosity Katie felt toward Heather drained away as quickly as if a plug in a tub of water had been pulled. Her imagination filled in the gaps Frances's explanation left out, and the end result wasn't pretty. Her heart ached for the little girl Heather had been. "Why does she dislike me?"

  Frances's lips compressed. "She's never spoken of it, but I can guess. You've got everything she's always wanted. You're successful and you've got a man that loves you."

  "Jorlan doesn't--"

  Frances cut her off with a self-disgusted snort. "She hates my guts, too, if that helps. If you don't want her around, I'll understand. But, if it's okay, I'd still like the job."

  Katie was probably going to regret this, but she said, "It's yours, Frances. And Heather, too."

  Another glorious smile lit the waitress's face. "Really? You mean it?"

  "You can start tomorrow."

  "Oh, Katie, thank you! Heather's real good with flowers and such, and I'm a real fast learner. Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it."

  They discussed what time Frances and Heather should arrive, what sort of things they would be doing, and how much money they would earn.

  "I can never thank you enough, doll." Frances's hands shook with the force of her delight. "I swear you won't regret this."

  I hope not, Katie thought as they walked back to the porch.

  Jorlan and Heather were chuckling over something Heather had said. The girl was standing too close to him. Way too close for Katie's peace of mind, and she felt a twinge of regret for her impulsiveness already. Frances ran to the couple and threw her arms around her daughter. "We got the job," she sang happily. "You and me both." Laughing, she twirled them around.

  Heather abruptly pulled away. She acknowledged the news with a half smile.

  "There are ten rules I forgot to mention," Katie said. "Well, they're safety tips, really." She threw Jorlan a do-not-talk glare. "There will be no adjusting them." When she had everyone's undivided attention, she began. "Number one, do not attempt to fix anything without checking with me first."

  Two female heads nodded in unison. Jorlan crossed his arms over his chest, and she just knew he was waiting for her to say please. "Number two, always make sure a room is properly ventilated before you begin working. Numbers three through ten, Jorlan is off-limits."

  "Jorlan?" Heather's nose crinkled. "I thought he was Hunter Rains, the self-help guy."

  "You thought wrong. His name is Jorlan, and he's mine."

  Frances stared over at Jorlan with horror. "You don't have to worry about me making a move on you. Men are the Black Plague of Death upon the Earth, so why would I want one?"

  Jorlan frowned.

  Katie just prayed Heather listened to her mother's words of wisdom. "Well then," she said, brushing her hands together. "I'm glad that's settled." She was just about to change the subject when Frances did it for her.

  "I've got a joke for you. A husband looks at his wife and says, 'I'm in the mood to try a new position tonight. Something I've never done before.' The wife sends him a flirty eyelash flutter and says, 'A new position sounds wonderful. You can stand by the ironing board and I'll stretch out on the couch, drink beer and fart.'"

  Everyone chuckled except for Jorlan, which was to be expected. Yet somehow, the expression tightening his features didn't fit with simple male irritation. This seemed altogether more serious. Frown sharpening, he whipped out one of his "weapons" and scanned the surrounding area.

  "I sense trouble," he said.

  Katie lost her smile. Her gaze jerked around the porch. "What's wrong?"

  With his palm gripping her forearm, he pulled her off to the side until they were alone, but his gaze never ceased its search. "A sorcerer is here."

  "Are you sure?" Katie didn't feel anything, didn't feel the faint stirring inside of her that she'd felt this morning. But she had to ask. "Is it Mon Graig?"

  "Nay."

  "How do you--"

  "'Tis a different kind of magic." Jorlan drew in a long, deep breath. "I sense no immediate danger--but one must be careful when dealing with hidden powers." With that, he deposited her back on the porch. Without another word, he slipped away and slowly circled the house.

  "Was that a spatula?" Frances asked, her face drawn together with curiosity.

  "Yes," Katie answered as if it were perfectly normal for a giant of a man to wield a cooking utensil as though it was a lethal blade. "Yes, it was."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  PERCEN DE LOCKE GRINNED slowly.

  At last, after a seemingly endless search, he had found Jorlan.

  He had found Jorlan!

  Of course, his brother was no longer stone, but flesh and blood. Percen's first reaction to that fact was fury, but as he watched Jorlan interact with the mortal women, that anger melted away and his smile grew. Jorlan was free, but only for a time. The spell had not yet been broken completely. Its shackles were still wrapped tightly around his brother. How wondrous! Jorlan must be desperate for his savior's love, knowing his deadline fast approached.

  Percen wanted to dance upon the grassy plain, but could not, for his twisted leg prevented such an action. He wanted to laugh and shout his success to the world, but could not, for he wished to keep his identity hidden.

  At least for now.

  Somehow, though, Jorlan had already sensed him. The cursed warrior was now guarded, searching. In fact, he strode about the house, determined to discover who watched him. He passed Percen once, even a second time, but never detected the truth. Percen could not contain a small chuckle.

  You can't catch me, he inwardly sang, imitating the happy little boys he'd heard playing earlier that day. So carefree those children had appeared, he'd cast a spell of understanding just to learn their words. Those words now echoed smugly in his mind. You can't catch me. You can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man.

  Oh, what a fun game. He himself had never played games as a child. Nay, there had always been a spell to learn, an incantation to perform. There had always been punishments to endure and sorcerers to entertain. A future high priest must be properly groomed in all facets of life. His tutor's stern voice resonated in his head--a voice that still caused him to shudder with horror.

  Nay, no games for him.

  His half brother had led such a charmed life, pampered by the king and all of his servants, coddled by his mother, adored by anything female. Jorlan knew nothing of pain and suffering. Nothing! He knew nothing of craving something with every ounce of his being, yet being unable to acquire it.

  But I will teach him, Percen thought darkly. Aye, 'tis past time I taught him.

  His brother rounded a corner and returned to the three mortal women. A frown still marred the perfect warrior's perfect lips. Which of the three women was responsible for breaking the curse? Percen wondered, for he would begin Jorlan's punishment with her. He immediately eyed the youngest one. With her glorious red hair and big brown eyes, she was beyond beautiful, like a finely carved sculpture. The next woman was old enough to be Jorlan's mother, and the last was too tall and plain. Percen meant to study each one, to gauge their reactions to Jorlan and Jorlan's reaction to them, but he couldn't stop his gaze from returning to the young beauty. She was the kind of woman he had always longed to possess. To hold in his arms, to love and cherish.

  But her kind never desired him in return.

  Even knowing that, need began to churn inside him
. Hot, driving need that, for a moment, surpassed and masked his sole reason for being there. He watched her smooth a tendril of hair from her brow. His blood became enflamed. His body hardened. Though her every move was like living passion, there was something almost vulnerable about her. Something sad. Something that pulled at his deepest yearnings.

  The girl glanced around her, above her, below her, as if she could sense his scrutiny. Unexpectedly, her gaze connected with his. Blue to brown. Desire to confusion. He was nearly forced to his knees with the intensity of longing that swept through him. She didn't look away. She held his stare and slowly offered him a smile.

  He sucked in a breath. Could she see him?

  Nay, nay she could not, for her shoulders sagged slightly, and her smile faded. Her gaze moved to the railing beside him.

  Was she Jorlan's lover? Had Jorlan touched her, planted himself firmly between her thighs? Percen scowled as those images flashed through his mind. Of course his brother had tupped her. What man would turn away from such loveliness? Not Jorlan, surely, a connoisseur of female flesh. Well, 'twas reason enough for Percen to have her himself.

  As his scowl lifted into a predatory grin, Percen tapped a finger against his chin. Just how should he go about winning this girl? His ugliness caused even the staunchest of stomachs to churn. Magic, mayhap? Aye, he could use the same spell he'd used all his life to lure women to his bed, a spell that made others see him as the man he wanted to be, not the man he truly was.

  His eyes narrowed when the object of his query brushed her fingertip across Jorlan's arm. Jorlan sent her a questioning gaze, then smiled, as if telling her without words to continue.

  Percen's fingers bit into his palms. Oh, this was going to be fun. So much fun.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE DAY PROGRESSED QUICKLY for Jorlan. He worked much, talked little, and always remained alert. By the time he and Katie entered her home, he was at last able to relax, for the sensation of being watched had finally abated. Still, he desired time alone to ponder what had happened. Without telling Katie his purpose, he went into the bathing chamber, stripped, and stepped inside the tub. Warm water rained liquid heat upon his naked body, almost like a caress.

  The presence he had felt today...something had not been right. Yet he could not exactly lay claim to what it was that bothered him. He pressed his forehead against the cool, damp tile. At first he'd thought the presence had been a sorcerer, but the more he thought about it, the more he became convinced that what he had felt was a lingering hint of magic. A lingering hint of the stone spell.

  Each day that passed, the spell's power grew in strength, ready to claim him. He could not let that happen, and he knew what he had to do to prevent it. 'Twas past time he forced Katie to face what simmered between them.

  His mind drifted back over the day's events. After Frances and Heather had said their goodbyes, he and Katie had worked inside the old house for many more hours. He'd enjoyed every moment of their time together, especially the way her gaze had repeatedly glided over his body with longing. But she never asked for his touch. Nay, she merely asked him more questions about his past.

  How had the curse come about? she'd wanted to know.

  He explained how he'd been abed--although he hadn't explained that he'd been with Maylyn. A servant had rushed inside, happily shouting a man waited below and claimed to know who had killed his father. As Jorlan had searched for months with no results, he welcomed any information most eagerly.

  He had vaulted from the bed without giving Maylyn a second's thought.

  But in the next instant, Percen materialized.

  Maylyn, splayed across the linens in all her naked glory, had smiled oh, so sweetly and used her sorcerer's power to lock Jorlan's feet in place. He'd known then that everything she'd ever done or said to him had been a lie, and he'd hated her. She'd been Percen's ally all along. He had reached for a weapon, but just as his brother had cast the stone spell. Jorlan's flesh instantly hardened, yet he had still heard, felt and saw everything around him.

  Limping, Percen studied the stone from every angle. He laughed, the sound filled with more glee than humor. "I know you hear me." He trailed a fingertip down Jorlan's chest. "I've already killed the man below, for the answer to Imperia's greatest mystery will die with me."

  Percen uttered a long, drawn-out sigh laden with false sorrow. "Do not worry, my brother. There is hope for your freedom. When I think you've suffered long enough as stone, I will allow Maylyn to kiss you. After that, you will have two cycles to win her love." He laughed, the sound like shards of broken glass grinding together. "Just imagine. She betrayed you, and yet you will have to court her or lose your freedom forever."

  Katie had listened intently, had even hugged him close afterward. But when he questioned her about her past, about her life, she turned away, suddenly busy. She'd done the same thing all these many days they'd spent together. He thought he understood her reaction, even if he didn't like it. Sharing of oneself created a bond and opened wounds mistakenly thought healed. But she would learn, just as he had, that they couldn't deny their pasts.

  She would also learn that she couldn't deny her future.

  WHILE JORLAN BATHED, Katie set the stage for his seduction.

  Her fingers shook nervously as she lit jasmine-scented candles on her dresser. The flames flickered lazily in the darkness, dancing shadows and light together and casting a lacy canopy over the room. She wanted the atmosphere to evoke a mood of sublime promises and carnal need, where every shadow held a hint of the coming pleasure. True to Nick's advice, she wore nothing beneath her robe. The condoms, rope, handcuffs and lubricant were on the small round table beside the bed.

  The atmosphere was perfect.

  Just a few more finishing touches...

  The flowing water tapered to quiet sooner than she'd anticipated.

  Katie froze.

  One minute ticked by. Then another. And another. From the far corner of her bedroom, she watched Jorlan emerge from the bathroom. A white cotton towel was wrapped around his waist as tendrils of steam wafted above him, curling up toward the ceiling.

  She gulped, steeled herself. I can do this. I can. "Jorlan?"

  Footsteps resounded from the freshly cleaned floor as she watched his approach. He stopped in her doorway. The candlelight snaked from her room to the exact place he stood, paying him nothing but tribute, making his skin glow to bronzed perfection. His gaze raked her slowly, deliciously. She didn't say anything, just waited. Then his gaze collided with hers. He must have guessed her intentions because he inhaled sharply, causing his nostrils to flare. Suddenly he possessed the patent stillness of a predator, just before attack.

  In the next instant, his features were unreadable. "You know, Katie," he said smoothly, "I have been thinking." Looking as though he possessed all the time in the world, he leaned into the door frame. "We have talked about my life, my past, but we have never discussed yours."

  "Oh?" She glanced away, guilt etched in every curve and hollow of her face. "What do you want to know?"

  "You may start by telling me what qualities you desire in your life-mate."

  Her gaze snapped back to him. "Are you asking me to marry you again, because I--"

  "I am simply curious."

  She wanted to make love to him, and he was curious about her future husband? Angered, she gave him more of the truth than he probably wanted. "I want a man who loves me for the woman I am, not the woman he wants me to be. And I want a man who will love me forever."

  "I see."

  Such an easy reply disappointed her. On some level, perhaps, she'd hoped he'd say I can be that man. "What about you? What are you looking for in a wife? Besides a means to an end."

  "A woman with spirit and courage. A woman who fascinates me and makes my body throb with unquenchable need...a woman who makes me forget."

  Cords of jealousy were already working a path down her spine. She didn't want to think about this faceless female who would one
day be his life-mate. Katie only wanted to think of here and now. "I don't want to talk anymore, Jorlan."

  His brows arched. "What, then, would you have us do?"

  "Make love. All night." She reached out and beckoned him over. "Until neither of us can move."

  Instead of racing to her and swinging her into his arms, he replied, "Are you sure this is what you want, katya?" There was an edge to his tone that suggested she agree, and as he waited for her answer, his eyes turned to cool slate, the crystalline light that usually danced within them subdued to dark sapphire. "You have refused me so many times."

  "I'm positive I want this. I even bought us some things." She motioned to the side table with a wave of her arm.

  His expression still unreadable, he eased into the room. He didn't come to her. No, he sat at the edge of the bed, just in front of the table and inspected her purchases. Lips twitching, he tested the strength of the rope then set it aside. He held up the handcuffs. "What do you plan to do with these?"

  "Lock you to the bed." Her heart raced at the thought, her toes curled, and her nervousness increased.

  "Mayhap I will lock you to the bed." He paused, then grinned slowly. "Aye, I like the sound of that. Having you subject to my will." He replaced the handcuffs on the table surface and fingered a box of condoms. "What is this?"

  "Condoms."

  His brow puckered in confusion.

  She explained the consequence of unprotected sex.

  Half grinning, half resolved, he uttered a sigh. "I could only give you a child if we were life-joined, katya. 'Tis the way of the Imperians."

  "Really? So I don't have to worry about that?"

  He gave a slight shake of his head, sending several strands of dark hair over his brow.

  "Well, then," she said, gently brushing the inky locks from his eyes and fighting a rush of nervousness, "you have my permission to proceed to the next level."

  "Not just yet, I think." He swept the box to the floor. He raised the tube of lubricant and studied it from every angle. "And this?"

  "It's to help--" No, that wasn't how she wanted to explain. "It eases--" No, that wasn't it either. "It's to make a woman wet."