by Amber Carew
He would not allow Randalph that power.
Chapter 12
"I’ve got to go, Nyte. Please understand." She concentrated on Rand’s living room, then raised her hands and flicked them down her sides, a little flourish she always used while teleporting.
Nothing happened.
Stunned, she glanced around and saw she still stood in the same place.
"You aren’t going anywhere." Nyte’s words cut across her confusion. A look of dark determination shadowed his taut features.
She scowled, then tried again, with the same lack of results.
A chilly thought quivered through her. Her magic had been blocked at Delphi, now again here, and she didn’t like the feeling. She tried again. When it still didn’t work, her breathing tightened. What was happening?
"I won’t let you go to him, Lucinda."
Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. A sick feeling coiled deep in her stomach. Nyte was blocking her? To do that, he must have regained his powers. And that meant....
"You have your memory back?"
He sighed heavily. "Yes."
Alarm skittered through her. If he could block her teleportation spell, he must be very powerful. In fact, much more powerful than her. Her hands started to tremble and she clasped them together.
She had to get control of herself.
"Why didn’t you tell me?"
"It happened this afternoon. That’s why I left. I needed time to think."
She nodded. "I see." Anger shot through her. "So now that you have full use of your powers again, you decided to exercise them by imprisoning me in my own house?"
At least he had the grace to look guilty. "I can’t allow you to go running to Rand every time you have a question about our relationship. He is determined to poison your mind against me."
She glared at him. "You can’t allow?" Her fists clenched tightly at her sides, her fingernails digging into the heels of her hands. "You have no right to keep me here."
"You’re right. I have a better place in mind."
Anxiety crept through her as he grasped her arm and she felt the pull of space yet again. Damn it! She was starting to feel like a yo-yo!
Pressing her hand against her chest, she took a moment to take a breath and look around her surroundings. It was very modern. Open and airy. Like something right out of a magazine.
High ceilings. Soft, rainbow colors. The delineation between the large living and dining room was a sunken floor rather than a wall.
A profusion of greenery filled the rooms with a natural, revitalizing energy: a huge fern in a stand beside the buffet, spider plants hanging in the corners, and bright, flowering fuchsia spraying across the surface of a side table by the wall. All plants Merlin would love to munch on.
Then her gaze caught on the view.
As lovely as the inside was, the whole thing seemed background to the enormous window overlooking a glittering ocean, with white beach stretching as far as she could see.
"This is somewhere you’ll be safe," Nyte said.
She tugged her arm from his grasp. "From whom?"
"From Rand. He can’t influence you here."
"Do you mean he can’t contact me?"
"He can’t contact you and he can’t steal you away. While you’re here, he won’t be able to interfere."
She stared at him warily. "Interfere. With what?"
"I intend to convince you that we’re right for each other."
She jammed her hands on her hips. "You’ve dragged me off to some secluded hideaway to seduce me?"
"I didn’t say I brought you here to make love, although--" He curled a lock of her blond hair round his finger.
She snatched it away. "You had no right to bring me here."
His eyebrows slanted downward. "But Rand can drag you off any time he wants?" His voice sounded low and dangerous. He seethed with barely suppressed anger.
So what? She was pretty mad herself.
She twirled away and strode across the room. "I won’t stay here."
"I know you’re not used to anyone being able to stop you," he said, patience stretching his words, "but you’ll have to get used to the idea that I am stronger than you."
The thought absolutely terrified her, but she shoved the fear aside. She grasped the filmy curtains tied at the sides of the window and stared out at the crashing waves.
"This is how you try to convince me we’re meant to be together? First you bring me here against my will, and now you’re threatening me?"
"I’m not threatening you. I’m simply stating the facts."
She turned and glared at him. "Let me go this instant!"
He folded his arms across his chest. "No."
She let out a sharp breath.
"I am leaving!"
If she couldn’t teleport, then she’d walk. She stomped across the room to the door and twisted the knob, but it would not turn. She focused her energy and attempted to unlock the door with magic, and when that didn’t work, she tried to break it open with a burst of energy. Nothing.
She seethed as she glared at him on the way to a window a few feet to the left. She grabbed the handle and tugged upward, but it didn’t budge. Neither did magic move it. She stomped to the high table behind the couch, grabbed a lamp, and flung it at the picture window. No luck. It simply bounced off the glass and landed on the carpeted floor, intact.
"You’ll tire yourself, Lucinda."
She spun around to face him, and flung a lightning bolt in his direction. His eyes widened, but the bolt whizzed past him and struck the wall. She hadn’t aimed at him. Well, not directly, though she had wanted to scare him.
And judging from his pale cheeks, she had succeeded. She didn’t take time to analyze why knowing that gave her no satisfaction.
Her intent had been to inject a hole through the wall, hoping Nyte had only thought of reinforcing the normal exits with magic, but the bolt of electricity hit the wall and flared into a shower of harmless sparks.
Just her luck--he was very thorough.
Lucinda felt drained. It seemed that every time she tried to use her magical energy, she felt the power surge through her as usual, but seemed to lose it before she could shape it to her needs. It was as though it were being siphoned off.
Lucinda realized she was getting tired. Every attempt to use magic seemed to drain her even more.
She turned to him, her fists clenched at her sides. "How are you doing this?" she demanded.
He shrugged. "You are very strong, Lucinda, but I am stronger."
Damn him. At a loss as to what to try next, she glanced around aimlessly. Anxiety made her stomach churn. She had never felt this helpless before. It must have shown in her face because Nyte’s expression turned to one of concern and he stepped toward her.
"Lucinda--"
She swung towards him and cried out, "Why are you doing this to me? I tried to help you. Why do you want to hurt me like this?" Her voice sounded strained and near the breaking point. She sucked in some air and tried to calm herself.
Gently, he grasped her shoulders. "I’ll never hurt you." His voice was soft and persuasive.
She wanted to believe him, but how could she? He’d made her a prisoner. He had the strength to overpower her--and would use it. Panic quivered through her, stealing her breath.
"Then let me go!"
His touch, his closeness, sent her way off balance. She tried to move back but he held on.
"No. I need to convince you that--"
"You won’t convince me of anything holding me prisoner here, except that Rand is right about you."
The softness in his eyes burned away to glittering, granite hardness. "That’s the way it will always be, isn’t it? When it’s his word against mine, you’ll believe him every time."
She shuddered at the scrutiny of those cold eyes. "I’ve known him for a very long time and I trust him."
"And you don’t trust me?"
She held his gaze evenly. "You haven’t
given me any reason to, have you?"
The air shimmered with his suppressed anger.
"I suggest you get some sleep, Lucinda," he said through gritted teeth. "We’ll talk again when we’re both calmer."
She felt that very familiar push again and found herself in a spacious bedroom. With a locked door, she soon discovered. Another door she couldn’t open with magic.
"I can walk you know!" she screamed, then kicked the door.
She glanced around the large room. A huge four poster bed with the bedclothes and canopy in a pattern of rich jewel tones dominated the room. Sapphire. Jade. Amethyst. A white marble fireplace stretched along one wall and a dresser with a large beveled mirror on another. A sitting area of two blue love seats, covered with throw cushions the same pattern as the bedclothes, and a huge bouquet of assorted flowers on a low square table occupied the far end of the room.
She flopped onto the bed, more exhausted than before. Sleep was the best thing for her. It would recharge her batteries. Tomorrow, she would devise a plan to escape from here, but right now it was too much to even contemplate. Thinking required way too much energy.
She tried to conjure up some sleepwear but even that didn’t work. Sighing, she pushed herself off the bed and glanced around the room. The dresser caught her attention. Maybe she’d find something in there.
She searched through all six drawers, but found nothing even close to her favorite oversized grey sweatshirt. She returned to the second drawer, which was full of lingerie. She lifted pieces out, one by one, and quickly discarded them. Staring at the skimpy, scraps of satin and lace littering the top of the dresser, she wondered if Nyte had found her Frederick’s of Hollywood catalogue.
Finally, she picked up a slinky royal blue number, the most conservative of the lot, and changed into it. The bodice was a slightly stretchy fabric which conformed to the contours of her breasts like a second skin. Very sexy. If she wanted to seduce a man, this was the kind of thing she’d wear.
But she didn’t. She slid under the covers and pulled them up to her neck.
She’d gone years without any man showing the least interest in her and now all of a sudden two wanted her. She was still in shock about Rand. How could she convince him they weren’t right for each other without hurting him?
Despite her roiling emotions, she fell asleep within minutes. She dreamed of a dragon climbing into bed with her which turned into Rand who was then pursued by Death who turned into Nyte.
Then Nyte was kissing her and nothing else mattered. His hands awakened her body, his kisses illuminated her soul. Naked skin to naked skin, she found a depth of meaning to life she’d never known before. A feeling of completeness approaching bliss. When he took her to those dreamy heights of star bursts and comets, she cried out his name.
* * * *
"Lucinda?"
Her eyes fluttered open and a face, obscured by darkness, stared down at her. Her body felt hot and slick. And very needy.
"Lucinda, are you all right?"
Nyte’s voice.
"Yes, I’m fine." Her voice sounded almost like a purr. It must have been a dream--Nyte holding her, stroking her. Only a dream, but she wanted it to be real. Her body ached for his touch.
"You cried out."
Yes. He had filled her with pleasure and she’d moaned his name. The memory of that intense, shattering experience sent goose bumps quivering across her flesh. She slid her arms over her head and stretched, reveling in the tingling excitement washing over every part of her.
"Just a dream," she murmured, a note of regret in her voice.
He knelt beside her and stroked her hair from her eyes. His touch sent her already sensitized skin thrumming with pleasure. The comforter had slipped to her waist and she felt his gaze wander over her moonlit shoulders then down to her breasts.
"I see." He smiled and eased closer, his lips only a breath away. "It sounded like a very exciting dream."
His hand trailed across her shoulders and down her neck. Her nerve endings tingled at his touch. The memory of anger curled through the edges of her awareness, but the delicious feeling of desire brushed it away. Her eyelids dropped closed and she arched her chest upward, longing for his touch. He groaned, then she felt his hands cup her breasts. The incredible sensation of his warm palms surrounding her ignited the long suppressed yearning within her.
She couldn’t contain herself. She flung her arms around his neck and pulled him to her, pressing her mouth to his. Her lips moved with a passion that surprised them both. She needed him closer, so she tugged him onto the bed with her. As his bare chest slid across her body her nipples thrust outward, burning through the satin fabric and he groaned again.
He scooped his arms around her and pulled her to a sitting position, then flattened his hands on each side of her face and eased his mouth away, denying her the tingling excitement of his lips.
"Lucinda, tell me what you want." The words came out strained and hoarse.
Wasn’t it obvious? She curled her fingers around the back of his head into the silky mass of his hair and drew him forward again, seeking the exhilaration of his mouth on hers again. She moved her lips persuasively, pushing her tongue forward to plunder his inner warmth. He responded enthusiastically. She slid her hands down his hard chest, past the rippled muscles of his stomach, then glided over the enormous bulge straining against his briefs. Her insides melted at the thought of slipping her fingers beneath the flimsy fabric and stroking his rigid, pulsing erection. Thoughts of it sliding inside her, catapulting her to ecstasy caught her breath like wool dragged across course sandpaper. He grabbed her hands and tugged them away.
"Lucinda, I need to hear you say it. What do you want?"
She stared into his moonlit eyes and drew in a deep breath. "I want you." She tugged her hands free and dropped one narrow strap of her nightgown off her shoulder. "I need you." She dropped the other, watching him lick his lips as he watched her every move.
When she peeled away the clinging fabric, revealing her breasts the effect of the cool air, magnified by his burning gaze, caused her nipples to pucker. His eyes fell closed and he gulped. He opened them again and stared straight at her face. "Lucinda, I...."
She took his hand and placed it on her bare breast. His warmth covering her felt incredible. His fingers tightened around her and her nipple peaked into his palm. She hooked her hands around his neck and pressed her forehead against his.
"Nyte, I want you to make love to me." She arched against his hand. "Please."
The words seemed to unleash something in him. Whatever control he’d been wielding, collapsed in an instant. She felt herself propelled backwards onto the bed.
His lips surrounded her nipple and exquisite pleasure rippled through her.
"Oh, Nyte."
His hand found her other breast and the alternate sensations of moist on one side, dry on the other, claimed her entire attention. She lived in the peaks of her breasts. All pleasure came from those two points.
Until his other hand started to move.
Down her belly.
Past her navel.
Curling around into her warmth.
She arched her lower body, desperate for more. He slid his finger the length of her moist opening and she moaned.
"You’re ready for me, sweetheart. As ready as I am for you."
His mouth moved to hers, his tongue sliding between her lips and thrusting inside.
"I’ve waited so long for you, Lucinda. More centuries than I’d care to count." He sounded as breathless as she felt. His lips traversed a gentle path across her cheek, then he kissed her temple. "I can’t wait to join with you. To complete our bond and banish this aching emptiness." He nuzzled her ear as he shifted over her. "Next time will be slow, I promise."
She felt his hot, rigid penis slide across her thighs, then press against her opening.
This was it! In a moment, all barriers between them would be gone.
Despite the intensity of the
pleasure he invoked in her, she tensed.
"Nyte, wait, I--"
She felt his muscles tense.
"Wait?" He dipped down to her breast and trailed his tongue over her nipple. Need sizzled through her. "Do you really want me to stop?"
No, oh God, no.
But she had to tell him of her inexperience. Being a passionate fan of romance novels, she knew that a man usually got upset if he didn’t know about his lover’s virginal status until after the fact. And if he did know, he became very protective and tender--which Nyte already was--but she wanted her initiation into the world of experienced women to be slow and gentle, and the fire blazing between them threatened that prospect. The major flaw in her plan was that she’d seen more than one hero back off at this point.
She hoped this one didn’t.
She clung to him. "I absolutely do not want you to stop. I just...."
The tension in his shoulders flowed away and he smiled his cocky grin, which did little to fuel her confidence in what she had to say. He was so sure of himself. She felt way out of her depth in every way with him.
His grin ebbed and he slid his hands to her face, grasping it between his warm fingers and gazing deeply into her eyes.
"What is it, little one? What are you trying to tell me?"
"I... uh... well, you see I’ve never...."
His expression was intent. She trailed her hands over his and guided them away from her face, needing a little distance. His fingers twined with hers and he waited patiently for her explanation.
