Consort (Beyond Ontariese 6)

by Cyndi Friberg

  “He said he wanted to court me. Which is the process Bilarrians use to determine the compatibility of a possible life mate. But he’s been joined three times before and was never able to father a child. He’s understandably less than anxious to rush down that road again.”

  “The chances of him getting his Ontarian lover pregnant were slim, but this might give him hope?”

  “It’s not just his disappointment either. Indric has a half-brother whom his father delegitimized on his deathbed. Until Indric produces an heir, Eagin is a real danger. We all think it was Eagin who was responsible for the attack on the boys. It makes more sense than the NRS springing back into action after so many years.”

  “Damn. And I thought my life was complicated.”

  Cinarra released her breath and rolled her shoulders. It felt wonderful to share the secret. She still wasn’t sure if it would make a difference, but it might give Indric an option he wasn’t anticipating. “His first three consorts were Bilarrian. Maybe, just maybe, my Rodyte physiology—combined with my healing gift—will be a new enough combination to spark a miracle.”

  * * * * *

  What are your intentions toward my mother?

  Once again seated behind his desk, Indric couldn’t rid his mind of Krysta’s question. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. What were his intentions toward Cinarra? Knowing what she’d suffered back on Earth and the extraordinary lengths it had taken to bring her back from the dead hadn’t diminished his attraction to her. If anything he found her more amazing, more precious.

  So what role should she play in his life?

  He wanted to be her lover. That much was absolute. But mistress seemed inadequate for the intensity of his feelings for her. A king shared pleasure with his mistress. He enjoyed her body and her company, but little else. While a consort was his lifelong companion—and when the gods smiled upon him—became the mother of his children and his queen.

  A knot formed in the pit of his stomach, tight and heavy. That’s what he really wanted for Cinarra. A partner, a lover, a queen.

  He shoved the thought out of his mind. He could make Cinarra his consort, but it was unlikely she’d ever be his queen regardless of how badly he desired it. Only a royal heir could promote a consort to queen, and he was incapable of creating children. He’d failed with three Bilarrian women. How could he overcome the additional challenge of Cinarra being Ontarian? Bilarrian physiology was compatible with Ontarian, but medical treatment was required before the couple could hope to produce offspring. And that was when both sides of the equation were performing normally.

  So why allow hope to build? Why set himself up for failure. No, he’d continue along the path they’d agreed upon. She would be his cherished mistress and nothing more.

  “Access security grid.” His tone was terse and impatient. Good thing computers didn’t have feelings because he was suddenly in the mood for an argument.

  “Designate sector,” the computer prompted and the panel recessed in his desktop began to glow.

  “Conference room C, real-time audio and visual.” A holographic image of the room he’d requested rose from the desktop, detailed yet translucent.

  He didn’t routinely spy on his councilors, but this situation with Bakar and Huko was tricky. Not only had Ambassador Huko agreed to meet Bakar in person, but “another matter” just happened to have brought the crafty Rodyte to Bilarri, so he was able to accommodate Bakar within a couple of hours of the request. As Indric had thought, Huko was clearly testing the much younger man.

  They sat across from each other at one end of the rectangular table. Indric had missed the beginning of the conversation, and judging from Bakar’s tight expression, it was quickly growing heated.

  “Let’s both cut the shit. How’s that sound?” There was a steely edge to Bakar’s voice that Indric had never heard before and yet he appeared calm and in control. “We’re haggling over the bottom line and something tells me we aren’t even on the same page yet.”

  Huko laughed, leaning back slightly in his chair. “Very good, puppy. I was wondering how long it would take you to figure out that this is not about money.” The ambassador was a rotund man with short black hair and a florid complexion. Though his pupils were ringed in blue, the color had a purplish cast indicating a bit of Bilarrian blood. The rings in a highborn Rodyte’s eyes were so vivid a blue they were incandescent.

  “So enlighten me,” Bakar placed his palms on the tabletop and leaned forward. “What do you really want?”

  It was the perfect opportunity for Indric to flash into the conference room, but he hesitated. Bakar was acting on behalf of the crown, but ultimately it was Bakar’s authority to which Huko needed to respond. Assisting Bakar at this point would be counterproductive to the rapport he was attempting to establish.

  “There’s a Rodyte saying, ‘If you give a hungry man food, before long he’ll ask for more. But if you teach him to farm, he’ll never go hungry again.’”

  “We have a similar saying.”

  Indric narrowed his gaze. Palani was a super grain, specifically engineered to grow in the shallow, sandy soil of the San Adrin. It had taken decades to perfect the process.

  “We aren’t interested in importing massive quantities of palani or even converting our fields to a Bilarrian grain,” Huko explained. “We want you to teach us how to increase the viability and output of our own grains. Retrofitting our harvesting equipment and mills isn’t an option.”

  “I’m not sure the procedure can be done with other grains. I know they’ve tried with a number of produce items and have been far less successful.” It was obvious that Bakar hadn’t anticipated this turn of events. He rubbed his chin, distraction clouding his gaze.

  “Well, investigate the options and let me know.”

  Having seen what he needed to see, Indric turned off the holocom. There was no way he was going to give such valuable information to the Rodytes. Helping them feed themselves was one thing. He could see the benefit of having the enemy dependent upon a Bilarrian resource. Helping make them self-sufficient would be foolish.

  It didn’t take long for Bakar to request an audience. Indric had a few minutes before his next appointment, so he agreed to the impromptu meeting.

  After a quick bow, Bakar cut straight to the heart of the matter. “Huko doesn’t want palani he wants the process we use to make the grain.”

  “I suspected that might be the case.” Bakar didn’t need to know that he’d watched the majority of the conversation. The lad had handled himself well and Indric wanted to reinforce his confidence. “I honestly thought he’d screw with you a bit longer before admitting the fact.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  Indric smiled and folded his hands on his desktop. “I’m not disappointed. Huko is challenging, but I wouldn’t have appointed you to your position if I didn’t think you could handle him.”

  “Is the process for sale?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Bakar nodded. “That’s what I figured. What about using the process on a Rodyte grain? Would it be possible to create similar results?”

  “There is only one way to find out. Ask Huko to give you samples of the three most popular grains on Rodymia and see what the palani team can do with them.”

  “I’ll do so, Sire.”

  Bakar left and Indric smiled. If only all the other conflicts in his life could be resolved so easily.

  Chapter Six

  “Oh gods that feels good.”

  The throaty purr in Cinarra’s voice brought Indric up short in the doorway connecting his suite with hers. Desire flooded his senses with tingles and sent half the blood in his body surging to the juncture of his thighs. He had never wanted a woman as much as he wanted Cinarra, never realized his bones would literally ache with his need to join with her.

  Cinarra lay facedown on a massage table, obviously naked, a white cloth draped across her hips. The masseuse, who was working her calf, spotted him s
o Indric signaled for the young man to remain silent.

  Indric kicked off his shoes then crossed the room as quietly as possible.

  “Is this too hard, Madam Mazodie?” the masseuse asked with a broad smile.

  Yeah, no one with sight could have missed his body’s reaction to the situation.

  “No. That feels wonderful.”

  Easily guessing Indric’s intention, the masseuse moved one hand and then the other, allowing Indric to take his place. He offered Indric a silent bow then retreated through the connecting door.

  Indric kept his touch professional for a few moments, having been massaged often enough to adequately mimic the movements. A bottle of scented oil rested in a warmer on a nearby cart. He retrieved the bottle and drew warm lines down the back of her thighs.

  “If I fall asleep, just leave me here.” Her laugh sounded muffled and sleepy.

  Time to wake her up.

  He spread the oil over her thighs, intentionally dipping between and pushing a bit higher with each circular stroke. She pressed her thighs together and he fought back a laugh.

  “Could you work a little lower, please? I’m not comfortable being touched like that.”

  “And if your comfort is not my primary goal?”

  She gasped and pushed up with her arms, twisting around to look at him. “How long have you been here?”

  “Since, ‘Oh gods that feels good.’” He rubbed his hands together and stared into her eyes. “Lie back down. It’s my turn to touch you.”

  “But I…”

  “Now.” He made the order firm yet gentle.

  She returned to her earlier position, but her body was noticeably tenser now. “Did your meetings go well?”

  The mundane question made him smile. She was obviously nervous, so he dimmed the lights with a voice command and began to talk as he continued her massage. “The morning session went well, but there were some complications this afternoon. Nothing overly challenging, but it took a bit longer than I’d hoped.” He eased her legs apart and gradually worked his way up one firm thigh. “Did you have dinner with Krysta?”

  “Krysta, Betaul and Prince Dravon,” she listed. “I think we drove the staff crazy with our silliness. They seem to be used to a more serious crowd.”

  “Why do you think I ate at your house so often?” He eased beneath the cloth and stroked her hip, his thumb teasing the lower curve of her ass. She tensed, the muscle flexing beneath his hand. “Relax.” He cupped one firm cheek and then the other, barely able to suppress a sensual moan. She fit so perfectly in the palm of his hand. He imagined grasping her here, anchoring her body as he thrust between her thighs.

  He wanted to flip back the cloth and see what he was touching, but he knew she’d protest, might even climb down from the table and lock herself in the bathroom. It was more important that she grow accustomed to his touch and realize he would never harm her, never force anything upon her.

  His balls tightened and the pressure in his cock was nearly unbearable, so he pulled his hands out from under the cloth and moved to her back. Not that the elegant line of her spine and her soft skin were any less tempting.

  She remained silent and still until he reached her shoulders then a soft groan escaped and she said, “If the king thing doesn’t work out you can always do this for a living. That feels amazing.”

  He chuckled, glad she was comfortable enough to joke with him, but the purpose of this massage was not to put her to sleep.

  Dragging his fingers down the backs of her arms, he skimmed along her sides, paused to explore the outer swell of her breasts, then returned to her legs. The restless movement of her body assured him she was as affected by his touch as he was by touching her.

  He stroked up and down one thigh then eased his hand between her legs. His fingertips brushed against her folds and she gasped. But he didn’t linger. Switching sides, he started at her ankle and repeated the gradual climb up her other leg.

  She was silent for a long time, her body pliant. He’d reached mid-thigh when she asked, “Were you shocked by what we told you today?”

  He cringed. Reviewing her past was counterproductive to igniting her passion, but he understood why she needed to talk. They couldn’t build a future together until her past was at rest. “It wasn’t shock so much as distress and anger. I knew you’d suffered abuse, but the things I’d imagined were nothing compared to what you described. And I know you both just skimmed the surface of what really happened.”

  Wiggling around until she lay on her side, she propped herself up with one forearm. She struggled to keep her breasts covered as she shifted positions, so he helped her sit. Her modesty was charming, but unnecessary. If all went as he hoped, they’d both soon be naked and modesty would be the furthest thing from her mind. He eased her legs apart and stepped between them, lightly resting his hands on her thighs.

  “Thinking about you in any sort of peril makes me want to destroy things.” He moved one hand to her shoulder and raised her chin with the other. “I’ve lived a very long time and I wasn’t always this civilized. If Hydran weren’t already dead, I’d be on my way to Earth right now, focused entirely on his slow and painful destruction.”

  Her gaze warmed and she hooked her feet around the backs of his legs, pulling him closer. “And the fact that this isn’t the body I was born in doesn’t bother you?”

  Remembering her emotional retreat the night before, he hesitated with his answer. “You know I find this body pleasing, but you are so much more than a body to me. It wouldn’t matter what you look like, I’d still want you.”

  She smiled and placed one hand on his chest, still guarding the cloth with the other. “You learn fast.”

  If he pretended not to have any interest in the subject, she’d realize he wasn’t being entirely honest and he wanted honesty between them, honesty and trust. “I wouldn’t mind knowing what you looked like before. I admit it. I’m curious.” He expected her to push an image into his mind. He’d seen her sister and her daughter, so he wasn’t concerned about what she might show him. He waited for her to react, but she just smiled.

  “Charlotte and I are identical twins. I looked exactly like her.”

  He returned her smiled, glad she hadn’t avoided the request. “Well, I’ve always thought Tal was a lucky man, so apparently I find you attractive in any form.”

  “But you’re partial to blondes?” Her smile faltered and she lowered her gaze.

  He cupped her chin and guided her gaze back to his. “I’m partial to you.” He started to kiss her then changed his mind. He hadn’t finished her massage. “Lie back down, but on your back this time.” Her eyes widened and she started to protest, but he pressed his fingers to her lips. “I told you turnabout would be hell.”

  With the cloth carefully pressed to her breasts, she lay down and stared up at him. Her eyes were wide and uncertain, her body tense all over again.

  He took one of her hands and slowly pulled her arm away from her chest. She allowed him to unfold her elbow, but her fingers were still clenched. “I’m not going to hurt you. What’s the matter now?”

  “There’s one more thing I need to tell you.” She sounded utterly miserable.

  “Not a chance.” He scooped her up, cloth and all, and headed for the bedroom. “If I listen to one more piece of information, my head will explode. I don’t want to think about you in a place like Operation Hydra. I need to know you’re safe and in my arms.”

  “But this is—”

  He silenced her with his mouth, kissing her deep and long, until she was too breathless to speak. “The only words I want on your lips are yes and Indric. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes.” She returned his kiss for a moment then whispered, “Indric.”

  He set her down on the middle of the bed then stripped off his clothes with a frantic series of movements. She’d been watching as he shucked his pants, but her gaze hadn’t returned to his face. Emboldened by her stare, he stroked his length and moaned
at the simple pleasure. “You do this to me, Cinarra. All I have to do is think of you and I’m hard for hours.”

  She sat, forgetting about the cloth as she focused entirely on him. “May I?” Her hand trembled as she reached for his shaft.

  Catching her wrist, he shook his head. “Not tonight, love. I’ve waited too long.”

  He eased her down then placed her hand on the bed just above her head. As he reached for her other hand, she moved her arm into position without his assistance. Her subtle surrender recharged his control. She was nervous and unsure. He needed to slow down and bring her along gradually.

  Folding back the cloth, he bared her entire body to his ravenous view. His chest refused to move and his heartbeat echoed in his ears. She was perfect, soft ivory curves and pouty pink nipples. He wanted to start with her toes and lick his way up to her lips, but she was covered with massage oil.

  He sighed and crawled onto the bed beside her. It was probably better if she accepted his touch before he introduced other intimacies. Her entire body was firm and toned and an inevitable question sprang into his mind. Krystabel had given birth to twins, but it was possible that the Mystic had still been a virgin when she’d died.

  He wasn’t even sure how to ask her, but he really needed to know. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her in his haste to join his body with hers. Seeing no way around it, he looked at her and asked, “Have you done this since you’ve been on Bilarri?” It was the least offensive way he could think of to ask the question.

  “Yes.”

  She didn’t elaborate and he was glad. Thinking of her with another man made him feel savage and possessive, and she needed patience and tenderness right now.

  He stretched out on his side and slipped one arm under her neck. She turned her head as he lowered his, and her lips parted at the first brush of his tongue. She tasted of spiced wine and something uniquely Cinarra. He delved deeper, intrigued by the taste. Her tongue curled around his as he began to explore.

  He took his time, starting with her upraised arms and intentionally avoiding her breasts. She grew restless and arched her back, but he ignored the obvious invitation. She’d had no trouble teasing him, binding him with his promise while she learned his texture and shape. It was his turn to drive her crazy.