When she reached the end of the hallway, she peered through the pane but saw only the relentless rain.
The memory of her walk along the beach made her heart ache even more. She turned her thoughts to the great body of water that reminded her of home. After Karn had taken her with her hands braced against the rocks, they had walked along the sand barefoot. She had been delighted that despite the chill, the water was warmer than the cold ocean around San Francisco.
A knot twisted in her belly as she watched wave after wave crash against the cliffs. Surprisingly, she had enjoyed her stay at the mansion, up until the sharing tea. Now she was homesick, missing her apartment, the classes she taught, and her art. Most of all, she missed her cousins and Awai. At least she had Abra with her.
Several times Annie had considered leaving the mansion and searching for her cousins on her own. The only thing that made her nervous about the journey were the stories she’d been told about the moors, as well as the time Karn had mentioned bad things were out after dark.
She’d asked some of the kitchen Munchfolk about traveling through the moors, after she’d discovered Karn had left for his trip. What the Munchfolk told her had matched what Karn had said.
Likely, the tales Karn and the Munchfolk had told her of a moor-monster were meant to intimidate her and to keep her from leaving the mansion. Other than the boogey man—or creature—stories, no one seemed to want to give Annie any information about much of anything at all, and it was driving her crazy.
Something was pushing at her, though. Something that hammered away at her brain, growing stronger every day.
One thing that was driving her the most insane was the way her body craved Karn’s touch.
Annie closed her eyes. She could see his strong angular jaw so clearly, the passion in his ebony eyes, his large muscled frame and powerful chest. Even the scars across his chest made him that much more striking. She shifted, causing the tunic she wore to rub against her nipples, and she bit her lip.
Thinking about him caused an ache between her thighs and she grew wet with need. She brought one hand to her nipple and pinched the already hard nub. As she imagined Karn’s mouth on her breast, Annie eased her fingers beneath the tunic and cupped her mound.
She could almost feel the bonds on her wrists and ankles as Karn tied her to the bed, spreading her out for his pleasure. Her fingers eased into her wetness as she pictured Karn’s head between her legs, his stubble rasping the soft skin of the insides of her thighs in contrast to his soft hair sliding over her flesh.
Annie dipped two fingers into her core then slid her fingers over her clit. She started fingering herself, imagining Karn’s tongue there. When he’d bring her close to peak, he would rise up and thrust into her core. She would struggle against her bonds, loving the feel of them tying her down, yet wanting to grab him and hold on while he rode her hard.
His expression would be fierce, his eyes blazing with passion. Annie felt her climax building and building as she remembered his touch, the way he looked at her and made love to her.
In her mind she waited for him to give her permission to come, thinking of him driving into her, harder and faster as she clung to her last thread of restraint. She imagined his shout of “Now, Annie. Come for me.” and it threw her over the edge.
The orgasm rushed through Annie. Her hips moved against her hand and she continued to circle her clit, drawing out every last wave until the sensations were too much to go on.
She slipped her fingers out and brought her hand to her nose and breathed in the rich scent of her juices. If only the smell of Karn was mixed with the scent. It was a rich, heady smell that she’d grown to love.
With a sigh, Annie braced her forehead and both palms against the windowpane. The pane was cold against her skin, helping to chill her lust for Karn. Her breath fogged the view as she looked out into the dreary afternoon, and in turn her glasses clouded over.
Annie removed her glasses and cleaned them with the bottom of Karn’s tunic while she stared out.
Something dark moved through the moors. A two-headed something?
Frowning, Annie slipped her glasses on, but whatever had been out there was gone.
A shadow. That’s all it was.
She sighed and went on to the art room. Today she would finish the picture of her cousins, her aunt, and herself. Tomorrow she would start something new.
~~*~~
Over the next few days, Annie threw herself into her art and pushed aside her nightly dreams. Every night she dreamed of leaving and finding her cousins safe and happy. The urge to leave and find the family who truly loved her grew greater every day, but she couldn’t abandon Karn. Not yet, anyway.
When she sat on the stool in front of the easel, the following day after finishing the first painting, she hadn’t known what she was going to create. Before she knew it, she had fallen into an artistic trance.
Eventually, she came out of the trance and the image of a man was on the canvas. He was slightly turned away, his profile so familiar, the tattoo on his shoulder clearly in view.
Karn.
Her man.
Daily, Annie poured her heart and soul into the painting, working on it until she felt it was as close to perfect as it was going to get.
Since she normally did landscapes, it surprised her how well she’d captured Karn—the brooding, sensual look on this features as he looked to the distance, the fall of dark hair to his shoulders, the arrogant angle of his nose.
This painting was different than the one of him in his study. It showed a different part of him—the sensuality and the caring that was in the man she knew, who fought so hard to hide those traits.
When she made the final stroke, a hint of shadow to the line of his strong jaw, her heart settled low in her belly. She was done, one of the best works she’d ever created.
The inevitable had arrived. She could no longer put off her departure.
She loved everything about Karn, and it broke her heart to know she’d have to leave soon. She couldn’t and wouldn’t stay where she wasn’t loved. It would slowly kill her.
Aleana had shared quite a bit. Annie had learned more about her cousins, the Queen of Hearts and the Queen of Spades. The Kingdom of Hearts was the closest, to the north of the Kingdom of Diamonds. Aleana said it was a long journey, but Annie would make it.
She would leave now that she’d finished Karn’s portrait. It would be her final gift to him, a way of leaving her love, even if he didn’t want it. Unconditional, no strings attached—pure, simple, and colorful.
One more thing to do. Annie adjusted her glasses with one hand while she reached for a fine tipped brush with silver hair. Annie dipped the point into navy blue paint and then carefully signed the lower right corner.
To Karn with love,
A.T.
The incredible feeling of loneliness and emptiness she’d forced back the whole time he’d been gone came crashing over her like the waves against the cliffs—pounding and pounding at her so hard that tears pushed their way past her eyelids and spilled onto her cheeks. With angry jerks of her hand, she swiped at them. Crying was useless, and she might as well get over him now. She was a big girl, and it was time to act like it.
After she cleaned the brushes and packed all the art supplies neatly away, she stood for a moment in the doorway, carefully holding Karn’s portrait with one hand. The room’s smells of linseed oil-scented brush cleaner, oil paints, and cedar wood would be forever imprinted on her mind.
Annie closed the door, the heavy wood easily sliding shut with a click and a resounding thump.
She felt a hand on her shoulder, as if the spirit was trying to hold her back.
For a moment, Annie wondered if it was Karn’s mother’s spirit who had been watching over her, guiding her.
Queen Elinara. Yes.
Annie had the impression the queen’s spirit didn’t want her to leave the mansion, but Annie shook off the feeling and hurried out of the abandoned w
ing.
Taking care not to bump the portrait, she stole back to her own corridor. She paused in front of the weapons room and set the painting down, so it rested against the wall. She slipped into the room and grabbed the smaller of the leather packs, then retrieved one of the sheathed daggers she had seen on her initial exploration of this wing. Once she reached her destination, she would make sure the dagger and pack were sent back to Karn.
She slipped the dagger into the pack for now then she slung the pack over her shoulder. She left the room, closing the door tightly behind her, and then retrieved Karn’s painting and hurried to his chambers. She’d only been inside once before, when she’d swiped his shirt to wear.
Annie almost cried when she walked into his chambers and the full force of all that was Karn flowed over her. His presence filled the room from his raw masculinity to his unique male musk. Like the man, the room was dark and foreboding, yet infused with his personality.
Don’t cry, she admonished herself. Tears are useless.
She set his portrait on one of the chests in the room and leaned it up against the wall. After the portrait was settled, she slowly took off her collar and laid it on the chest beside the painting. She felt so naked and lost without the collar, the symbolism of what it meant…that she had belonged to Karn.
To keep from crying, Annie bit her lower lip hard. She moved to the trunk where Karn kept his clothing. She didn’t want to take anything from him, but she couldn’t very well travel the moors in nothing but a tunic. She knew the chest would be locked at the foot of her own bed. His clothes would be too big, but maybe she could roll up each pant leg and tie a scarf or belt around the waist.
When she dug through his trunk, her fingers brushed something familiar, and she almost cried out her relief. Her jeans. By the time she’d dug everything out, she’d discovered her own jeans and T-shirt there, buried beneath his belongings.
He’d kept them.
What that meant, she didn’t know, but if she was going to sneak out into the moors, it was good she’d have her own clothing.
Annie hurried through the connecting doors into the bedroom she’d used since arriving at Diamond Hall. She’d spent many wonderful days with Karn, before the sharing tea, but her nights had always been alone.
In her heart she knew it was his way of keeping some distance between them, and not allowing himself to come to care too much for her. She understood that something had damaged his heart so much that he refused to love, and it was impossible for him to get past. He guarded his heart so well nothing would allow him to love again.
Abra sat in front of her crystal bowl, eating her dinner, and Annie’s heart squeezed. If it wasn’t for her cat, her days would have been so much harder to take.
The cat gave Annie a haughty look that said, “About time you showed up,” and she returned to eating. Annie smiled and sat at the table where her own dinner had been laid out. Beya would leave Annie’s dinner waiting, not wanting to interrupt her artistic trance.
When she finished eating, she dressed in her own clothing, then strapped on the sheathed dagger. She wasn’t sure what she’d do with it, considering she’d never used one, but it made her feel better to have it with her.
When she caught sight of the nipple rings on her dresser, she paused for a moment. The diamonds glittered in the candlelight and she couldn’t help but remember the times she’d worn them for Karn, when they were alone.
Annie swallowed down the lump in her throat and withdrew the cloak from the wardrobe. She slipped it on, then pulled on the doeskin boots he had given her for the walk along the shore. After she stuffed the leftover piece of bread into her pocket, along with a piece of fruit, she put the pack over her shoulder. She scooped Abra up from off the bed and held the cat close beneath her cloak.
A sense of déjà vu swept over Annie. She shook off the feeling, slipped out the bedroom door, and quietly closed it behind her.
~~*~~
Karn guided the golden jul through the misty moors. The beast gave a low whinny, and Karn had to agree, it was not a good evening to be out and about. Yet he didn’t mind the rain against his face or the chill wind seeping through the opening of his traveling cloak.
What did concern him were creatures that preyed on travelers who dared to cross the moors at night. It was not fully dark yet, but Karn kept his sword across his lap and his senses constantly on the alert. Fortunately, the jul also had keen senses and could easily work its way through the fog to avoid stepping into the boggy locations.
The only sounds in the moors were the creak of saddle leather and the soft clip-clop of the jul’s hooves.
Even the rian, owl-like creatures, were quiet this night, not a chirp or a trill, which did not set well with Karn.
Nothing sets well with me these days.
He’d left his kingdom to meet in Hearts to strategize with his brothers, Jarronn, Ty, and Darronn. The trip to Hearts was a day and a half by jul, and at least three if one was to go on foot. But to travel the moors and then the valley on foot was foolhardy indeed.
Karn knew he should have taken Annie, but he needed space and distance. Both Alice and Alexi had been furious with him. He had been sure to guard his balls before informing them that Annie was at Diamond Hall. In just days, along with their mates, the sisters would arrive in the Kingdom of Diamonds to reunite with Annie.
And to witness Karn’s and Annie’s joining as King and Queen.
He couldn’t help but care for Annie. Her gentle ways, how she blushed so easily, her desire to please him, and how she so easily interacted with his people and truly appeared concerned with their welfare. His people were enamored with their future queen, and Karn had to admit that he was, too.
But love…no.
His gut twisted as he remembered the look on his kitten’s face when she overheard him talking before the sharing tea. He did not like that he had hurt her, but what was done was done.
No matter that he cared for her, he would not allow himself the mistake of falling in love with her.
When Karn finally reached the stables at Diamond Hall, he left the jul with a stable hand and strode toward the mansion. A queer feeling settled in his gut, but he pushed it aside. Right now he needed to bury himself in his woman, to take her again and again. He’d dreamed of sliding into her, of suckling her lovely nipples, and tasting her folds as he brought her to orgasm after orgasm.
He hurried up the stairs and almost trampled Beya as he raced down the hallway. He didn’t stop. His desire to be with Annie was far too strong.
“Sire,” Beya said as he opened his mate’s door. “I must—”
“Not now,” he said in a curt tone and entered Annie’s room.
She wasn’t there.
Her warm vanilla scent still lingered, mixing with the smell of ch’tok logs burning in the hearth. But his senses told him something wasn’t right.
Beya appeared beside him, but he ignored her and charged through the adjoining doors to his room. Immediately, he saw a portrait of himself sitting on one of his clothing trunks, the back braced against the wall. Annie’s collar lay on the trunk, beside the portrait.
His steps faltered as he walked toward the painting. When he reached it, he dropped to one knee. Time stood still in that sharp, clear moment while he couldn’t take his gaze from the portrait. His chest ached with a fierce and sudden pain and his heart pounded against his ribs.
Annie’s heart and soul were obvious in every stroke, and in her signature. She had painted him whole and full of color. She had seen him in ways that only a woman who loved him could express. He rubbed at his chest to chase away the ache as everything about the painting tore at him. The savage yet faraway look to his expression, the firm set of his jaw, the sense that he was coiled and ready to spring with a mighty roar.
Yet, she had shown the caring that he tried to forever hide from anyone who knew him. The love buried just beneath the surface that he had always kept hidden.
He had manage
d to hide it from everyone—everyone but Annie.
Thoughts of his mother and her art returned to him in wave after painful wave. It had meant the world to her. Every time she painted a human subject, it was only of the people dearest to her heart.
No matter that he had done all he could to keep Annie from falling in love with him, no matter that he had kept himself at a distance, she still loved him.
And even though she loved him, she had left him. Every fiber of his soul told him she was gone. She had taken the few pieces of her heart he hadn’t broken with his pride-cursed arrogance, and she’d fled.
Annie had left him, his kingdom, his people, and the only truly safe place in all of Diamonds because he had refused to admit the truth.
“And what is the truth, my son?”
Karn heard his mother’s even, melodic voice, ringing from his memory like a warm spring breeze. He had never been able to lie to her, and he wouldn’t now, not even to her memory.
Especially not now, when an honest answer might be his only route to salvation.
“The truth is, I love her.”
The realization punched his gut harder than any enemy, stabbed him deeper than any blade. For all my blustering and damned fool games, I love her. And somehow, I must tell her, and try to mend the gentle heart I broke.
“She is gone, Sire.” Beya’s voice faltered. “I discovered it just as you arrived. I intended to send the guard out to find her.”
“No.” Karn picked up the collar Annie had abandoned beside the portrait and clenched it in his fist. He got to his feet, his jaw set with determination as he set the collar on his bureau. “I will find Annie. And I will bring her home.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ANNIE CUDDLED ABRA BENEATH THE traveling cloak as she made her way through the thick mist. She carried a torch she had “borrowed” from the steps down to the doorway leading to the sea. After retrieving the torch, she had hurried back upstairs and went to the kitchen.
Bound by Desire: King of Diamonds (Wonderland Book 3) Page 16
