Rykhan (Book 1 of Mate Search Series)

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Rykhan (Book 1 of Mate Search Series) Page 12

by J. A. Hornbuckle


  Leah ran a hand over her still drying hair and looked at her friend with a rueful grin. “It seems to meet all my requirements.” Raising her hands, she ticked a point on each finger of the demands she’d made. “It’s outside…”

  “Good thing it’s finally starting to cool off or that little item would have had me objecting!”

  “…with other people around…”

  “Even if those ‘other people’ are the other warriors, the ones we haven’t met yet?”

  Leah nodded. “And we can come and go when we please without a set schedule.”

  Pam’s giggle had Leah turning to look at her. “You drive a hard bargain, honey.”

  “I know I’m being a pain in the ass but I’m just not as trusting as you, Pam.” Leah spoke the absolute truth. Her dating record was spotty at best, discovering whatever guy she thought was a prince often turned out to be a lying, lazy player or a frog. Providing solid evidence her instincts weren’t always good.

  Especially when it came to men.

  “Oh my god,” Pam breathed, driving through an open set of gates and staring up at the mansion in front of them. “Is this it?”

  Leah checked the address Rykhan had texted and compared it with the numbers she’d seen on the stone pillar just to the right of the driveway. “I think so.”

  “Holy cow,” Pam muttered, unbuckling her seatbelt while barely even blinking as her eyes roamed over the very, very large home in front of them. “I knew they were suave and dressed nice, but damn! Are they rich too?”

  Even Leah had to admit to being impressed. Many of the people she knew who were well to do usually made a point of making others aware of their affluence straight away. But neither Rykhan nor Wyst had ever alluded to their financial status when the girls had been out with them.

  Climbing out of the car, Leah pulled up her jeans with a small hip wiggle and then checked to make sure that the sleeve of her lightweight t-shirt covered her new bicep bracelet. She’d considered dressing up a bit more but finally decided that she needed to be comfortable for whatever the men wanted to talk about in the meeting she’d been almost forced to attend.

  As Pam came to stand beside her, Leah asked her again for a hint about what the subjects were going to be covered. “Like I said before, Leah, I don’t think I’d explain it right. Moreover, it’s just too damn important to get wrong straight out of the gate. But it’s nothing to worry about and might help you get some answers.”

  “Answers?” Pam hadn’t added on the last portion in her earlier responses!

  Her friend smiled up at her before taking the lead on the steps. Just as she cleared the last one the front door opened and a large smile spread across, Wyst’s face. “Welcome!” Rykhan stood just behind and to the right of the other large man.

  “Hi Wyst. Ryk,” Pam greeted.

  “Won’t you come in?” Both men move back before Rykhan stepped forward again to reach for her hand.

  Rykhan led them into the house and down a long hallway to the right of a massive staircase. Each room they passed seemed, at least to Leah, to be beautiful decorated and unbelievably tidy, appearing more like a show-home than a place where real people lived. There were no photos or any personal items on display, nothing that give a clue as to the people who actually resided there.

  Eventually, Rykhan led them outside to one of the most amazing backyards Leah had ever seen. Not only did it have a pool and a hot tub, but also were dotted with several patios on different levels, each with its own seating arrangement as well as a separate outdoor kitchen/bar-be-que area. It also had several outlying buildings which Rykhan explained were the garage, a workshop, and a separate one-bedroom house. It was almost too much to take in all at once and Leah didn’t pay much attention to where Rykhan led them. He stopped before a large table already set with glasses and a pitcher of iced tea as well as another of lemonade.

  “Won’t you sit down?” He pulled out a chair and stared at her directly.

  Recognizing a cue when she got one, Leah eased herself down into the thick cushion before Rykhan took the seat directly next to her. “Thank you,” she murmured with a grin somehow knowing he was putting a lot of effort in trying to make her feel as welcome as possible. “This is looks wonderful.”

  After every one had a glass of something to drink and Rykhan had relaxed back into his chair, Leah decided to offer the opening salvo. “You wanted to talk?”

  “Yes, I did,” he said quietly, shifting in his chair as his thumb drew circles on the condensation of his glass. “I want to see what you have on your arm.”

  The sip of the iced tea Leah had taken seemed to stick in her throat and she had to swallow hard to ensure she didn’t choke or sputter. Her eyes immediately shot to Pam in accusation. “You told them?”

  “I had to, honey! They were both so worried about you and were making such a ruckus, demanding the receptionist tell them what was going on.” Pam’s eyes pleaded for Leah’s understanding. “They were almost as wigged out as you were because no one would tell them anything!”

  Leah felt Rykhan’s large hand cover hers and, as he did so, the metal on her bicep began to throb and heat even as calmness stole over her. “Do not blame the sister of your heart, mica tisha. She did not betray a confidence but tried to…how did you put it, Pam? Settle our asses down?” Leah’s eyes sought his and realized the earnestness in both his voice and words. “Will you not show me what was so upsetting that you had to seek medical attention for it?”

  She extracted her hand from underneath his, noticing the change in both the temperature of the bronze links and the loss of tranquility within her at the move. Without even thinking about it, she raised her free hand to cover the place where the band laid embedded in her skin although she didn’t reply.

  “Are you scared? Did the sight of your wahrom cause you fear when you first noticed its appearance?” His voice, so very deep and yet so warm was a balm that coated her insides. Nevertheless, she still maintained a grip on her arm, covering the bronze links as she tried to hide it from him.

  “I don’t know what that word means,” she said through numb lips. “That wah-room thing.” She tried to pronounce it as he had which was along the lines of ‘war room’ in a New Jersey accent but didn’t think she was very successful.

  “I’m unsure of the direct translation but, in essence, it means ‘the mark of the warrior’,” he responded softly, his beautiful eyes gentle and accepting as he gazed at her.

  He took a deep, deep breath before continuing. “I have one.”

  Leah continued to stare him, not responding but knew her shock at his admission was somehow evident.

  “Would you like to see it, my Leah?”

  Her lips were still stiff but she moved them enough to murmur, “yes, please.”

  He unbuttoned his shirt, a different top than he’d been wearing at the urgent care. Earlier he’d had on a black t-shirt, but the one he wore now was a light blue button down. Her eyes followed his fingers, skimming over the golden skin of his firmly muscled chest as it was exposed inch by stunning inch. His chiseled abs, sharply defined, came into view as he opened his shirt further until there were no more buttons to release. The same chest and abs she’d felt against her the night before.

  At the view of the real thing, Leah decided she hadn’t given Rykhan enough credit since he looked better than the pictures of men on the websites that described themselves as ‘porn for women’.

  When he pushed the shirt off his shoulders, her eyes came back to his. Determination glittered in the steady gaze that was nearly a physical touch. As the fabric slid down his arms, she dropped her gaze to his right bicep.

  And gasped.

  There it was. An just about exact duplicate of the metal she’d woken up with this morning was prominently displayed. On his arm, in almost the exact same spot on his body, albeit on the other arm. Even the etchings within the links were identical to hers!

  Her heart raced and she found it hard to bre
athe but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from what she saw.

  “Is yours like this, Tersa blay?” he whispered as he searched her face. “Is your wahrom like mine, my Leah?”

  No one at the table moved and Leah would’ve bet even the very wind had stopped as she looked upon the band of bronze that encircled his huge bicep. She couldn’t help her action as she twisted in her chair, sliding herself until her left side aligned to his right. Raising her eyes to his, Leah slowly drew the sleeve of her t-shirt up until it rested on her shoulder, exposing her band, her bronze wahrom that gleamed in the sunlight reflecting off the nearby pool.

  “Oh, Tsiran,” Rykhan breathed in a way that was close to a groan of a sexual pleasure. His eyes flitted to a spot over her shoulder before he gave a deep sigh and lowered his lids.

  “Have you tried touching them together yet?” The question came from behind her but was not a voice she recognized. She twisted even further to see who had interrupted such a private moment. One so personal she’d even forgotten the presence of Pam and Wyst. It was hard to tell who spoke since so many men now surrounded their table. Rykhan placed a hand on her forearm and Leah begin to settle enough to pick out individuals in the group, as well as to answer.

  “No, we haven’t,” Leah replied calmly. “Should we?”

  A man who seemed older that the others chuckled before he stepped to the forefront of the group. “The legends caution against doing so in front of witnesses. As I understand it, the move could prove…embarrassing on a number of levels.”

  A grin curved Leah’s lips. “Good to know.” Her eyes shot to Rykhan before turning back to the older man. Was he wearing a crown? “And you are?”

  “My name is Bronsyn Llent,” was the proud reply accompanied by a chin lift.

  Pam leaned over Leah’s shoulder as she whispered, “ask him if he’s royalty!”

  Turning away from the man but towards Pam, she quietly told the woman to ask him herself.

  “But he’s only talking to you, Leah!” Pam’s voice sounded strained.

  “Mr. Llent, meet Pamela Swain.” Leah made sure her voice was as clear and strong as Llent’s was when he’d broken into her moment with the man who shared her metal. “She would like to ask you a question.”

  “Bitch,” The snappy whisper was for Leah’s ears only.

  “Coward,” Leah whispered back just as quickly.

  Pam sat back but swallowed loud enough that Leah could hear it even from over her shoulder. “Uhm hey there, Mr. Llent. I was just, ah, you know. Like, wondering if that thing on your head meant you are, you know, a part of the royal family or something.”

  A look of confusion cross the other man’s features. He glanced to both Rykhan and Wyst first, as if seeking the answer but when no one spoke, he turned and studied the group of men standing behind him. As he twisted, Leah took notice of his long dark hair. Hair that brushed his waist and with the view, Leah knew exactly who the man was and understood exactly how to answer Pam’s question.

  On her first meeting with Rykhan, he’d confided that he was in the States with his ‘warrior brothers’, a phrase she hadn’t initially understood.

  “Does that mean you’re in the military?” she’d asked realizing she was just echoing what Pam had asked when they’d all shared dinner. At the man’s head nod, she’d pressed further somehow sensing in the affirmative he had not been the whole truth. “The U.S. military requires their troops to keep their hair short, but yours is long.”

  “I am not in the U.S. military,” had been Rykhan’s only vague response. “My commander’s hair is down to his belt.”

  At the sight of the long hair on the older man, Leah knew that Rykhan had not been lying in the least.

  “My friend asked if you were a king,” Leah spoke unable to keep the delight out of her voice. “But after how Rykhan described you, I know you’re the leader of this group, right?”

  The man nodded although his brows drew together. “Why would she consider me a monarch?”

  “Because of your circlet.” Pointing to her forehead and moving her finger from side to side, Leah indicated what she had, at first, considered his crown.

  Rykhan’s caress on Leah’s knee drew her eyes back to him and she smiled as he gave her a nod of approval. The look combined with the tranquility his touch always brought, made her go boneless in her seat.

  “Yes, Pamela Swain. I am the mission leader and what you see on my head is my ihrom, which signifies my command on this quest.” Bronsyn’s words were very formal, but his tone wasn’t.

  Pam blurted out, “it still looks like a cool-as-shit crown, though. Does it come off?”

  The other men behind Bronsyn wore varying expressions of amazement, which attested to the level of respect awarded him as their leader. However, Bronsyn only smiled Pam. “No. I cannot remove it.”

  There were a couple of beats of silence before Pam spoke again. “Bummer, dude.”

  Leah twisted around and blew out an exasperated breath before her gaze went to Wyst. But he seemed to find something in the pool too interesting to participate in the conversation. Either that or he was deliberately ignoring one and all.

  “Must be a real bitch to deal with when you wash your hair,” Pam continued on a teasing note and a wide smile.

  Bronsyn’s laughter rang out across the huge expansive of the backyard before he finally found voice enough to answer. “You have no idea.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Leah slowly drew into herself even as Pam began to laugh and joke with the other men. From the way his mate’s eyes made their way back to each of their wahroms Rykhan felt the need to speak with her in detail about it. The thought of having such a conversation in full view of both his commander and brothers made him uncomfortable.

  “Can I give you a tour of the house?” It would be the easiest way to pull her away from the crowd and get her alone in order to answer the many questions lingering in her eyes.

  “That’d be lovely,” she murmured, placing her palm into the hand he extended. As they moved away, the other males immediately snagged the empty chairs to sit next to Pam and engage the effervescent female in conversation. Whereas her friend did not have a filter and verbalized whatever crossed her mind, Leah spoke quieter from a thoughtful place inside.

  Which, in any other circumstance, might have been momentarily entertaining. That was if Rykhan had not known Leah was the person Tsiran had chosen as his one true and legitimate mate.

  He walked through the bottom portion of the huge house, pointing out the different rooms downstairs and reciting the names of each, much as the realtor had done before Bronsyn had signed the lease. Leah seemed appreciative, uttering little murmurs of approval at the furnishings, the decorations that adorned each room.

  Although she hung back a little when it came time to move upstairs.

  “I would very much like for you to see where I sleep,” Rykhan explained, seeing the hesitation in her eyes. He realized he had not spoken the full truth and centered himself in order to admit to what he was feeling. Dropping his voice, Rykhan used the hold he had on her hand to pull her closer to where he stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Actually, I would really enjoy sharing another kiss with you but do not want to be disturbed.”

  It apparently was the right thing to say because her eyes came to his and a flare of heat appeared in the dark green depths. Without another word between them, they slowly ascended the stairs. Moving quickly to the hallway on the right, Rykhan continued in silence passing several doors until he stopped next to the one at the end. At his pause, Leah looked up at him in question.

  He had no explanation for his hesitancy in opening the door to his bedroom, only knowing that having her in his private space would change things, to shift something between them on such a level he knew he’d never be the same. Armed with that knowledge, that sureness, he paused to give her time to decline.

  His heart soared when she didn’t, choosing instead to be the one to open the door
to his large room, stepping into it with a confidence that stole his breath away. He followed and only remembered at the last moment to close and lock the door behind him.

  Rykhan followed her gaze as it settled on the different furnishings, trying to see it through her eyes. A king-sized bed, covered in a teal and brown comforter and dotted with a myriad of pillows took up most of the space, bracketed by two small chests, each with a gold lamp topped with a teal-colored shade. There was a desk and chair seated underneath the largest window, with two doors to the right of it: One led to the cleansing area and the other to the room that held his clothing.

  “You could almost fit the whole of my place in just this room,” she mumbled into the quiet area as she ran a hand over the top of his larger communication device. His eyes traced her profile as she leaned towards the window that looked over a portion of the large backyard and the small house that Bronsyn had appropriated as his own.

  Rykhan stepped up behind her and swept her dark, chestnut layered hair to the side, exposing her sweetly vulnerable neck. Just the view of its curve, the aroma of her heated skin had his legs to quaking. Pressing his lips against the pulse-point, as it beat an erratic rhythm; he wrapped his arms around her small waist and drew her back until she was leaning against his chest. The feel of her combined with the aroma of her lightly fragranced skin had his tailpor throbbing. He took a chance and touched his lips to her flesh, sliding them over her skin. A move that found both of them trembling with unbound desire.

  “I need to kiss you again,” he urged, nipping and sipping at the flesh exposed. Skin so sensitive she shuddered as his move.

  “Isn’t that what you’re already doing?” she breathed as she shifted, dropping her head back onto his shoulder.

  As a goal-driven warrior, Rykhan spoke from his heart. “I want to be in your mouth, the same way we were kissing last night.”

  “Liked that, did you?” Her throaty question made his tailpor flex and he involuntarily pressed his hardness into the rounded flesh of her bottom.

 

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