Claimed & Seduced

by Shelley Munro

  Her breath caught at the close contact, her heart ventricles gave a skip and pleasure frisked her body. She couldn’t remember Marcus ever touching her like this. It was an innocent contact, yet held the potential to become so much more. It was inherent with promise and her blood sang. Her crow let out a melodic caw-caw and she shot a glance at Jarlath.

  Sure, he’d heard the sound, she expected a frown or at least distaste. The House of the Cat and the House of Cawdor had fought their war for centuries with intermittent peace. Even though she no longer had contact with her people, Jarlath might see her as the enemy.

  But why would he kiss you?

  “You said your father comes from the Cawdor. Is it true you can’t shift or did you just tell Ellard that? The reason I ask is because I keep hearing your crow.”

  He might try to trick her, but she wouldn’t lie to him. Not about this. “I’ve never shifted. My father had no use for me because of the deficit. Most Cawdor youngsters shift for the first time at around ten cycles. The people consider those who can’t transform abnormal. They are cast out and left to die.” Her voice remained neutral to hide the sting she’d felt—still felt—at the rejection from this side of her family. Although in hindsight, the dismissal had made her stronger and saved her from Cawdor politics.

  “I’m sorry. The inability to shift happens on Viros too, but we don’t turn our people away. They still have the protection of the House, but I believe they’re treated badly by those who come into contact with them.”

  “Then they are outcasts too.”

  “Yes. Will we take the cart?”

  “No, the waterhole and the berry patches I have in mind are farther away. We’ll need to take the flymo.”

  “Lead the way,” Jarlath said.

  “Do you want to pilot?”

  “Yes, please.” He pulled a face. “Ellard never lets me fly.”

  Amusement burst from her in a chuckle. “You’re the prince. Tell him you want a turn.”

  “He says he’s following his father’s orders. His father is security chief, so I’ve never argued. I believe he’s finding me disobedient at present and unpredictable.”

  “Because of me?”

  “Partly, but I’ve been thinking about my younger brother a lot and come to the conclusion he might have known what he was talking about all these cycles.”

  “Prince Lynx,” she said as Jarlath piloted the flymo into the air.

  “Just plain Lynx,” Jarlath said. “He doesn’t like the title.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “I’ve no idea. I’ve tried to contact him. Ellard’s younger brother is Lynx’s best friend and security guard. Our two families have a close association. Lynx and Shiloh are in partnership and run a successful freight haulage business.”

  “What do your parents think of that?”

  “They’ve practically disowned him. We don’t speak of Lynx much. Shiloh’s parents also disapprove.”

  “But you speak with your brother?”

  “I thought Lynx was crazy to give up his life of privilege for one of hard work and uncertainty.” Jarlath scowled as if the memory pained him, and she had to halt her urge to offer comfort. “He told me life within the castle was nothing but a pretty cage. We argued and he left.”

  “You’ve changed your mind.”

  “He was right. I might have mod technology at my disposal that ordinary citizens don’t, all the currency I could want and position, but my life is a cage. My parents tell me what to do, and I follow their orders. No one will think to check my suite to make sure I’m there because I’ve followed every instruction or duty imposed on me. My parents wish to reward this loyalty by making me king, but only if I do what they say and pick a wife to continue the succession.”

  A wife? The idea shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. She forced a smile and prayed her tone neared teasing. “Instead you’re gallivanting with me, picking berries and going swimming.”

  “And ravishing an attractive woman,” he said. “Don’t forget that part.”

  “I thought you were going to wait until everyone retired to their beds.”

  “Lynx would say that was boring and predictable. I happen to agree. We’ll do both.”

  Her brows rose. “Is that right?”

  “Yes.” He winked at her.

  “But it’s not proper.”

  “Proper is overrated.”

  “See the weird-shaped hills over to our right? The berry patch is in that direction.”

  A short time later, Jarlath settled the flymo in a flat forest clearing.

  “It’s a beautiful spot,” he said.

  “Marcus purchased this land cycles ago because no one wanted it, but the forest provides for us. We pick fungi and dry it to sell in the market, berries during the warm season as well as a variety of herbs.”

  A bright red bird fluttered from branch to branch above their heads and chattered in a discordant tone as if telling them off for interrupting the peace.

  “We’d better pick the berries first,” Jarlath said. “Otherwise I might be tempted to forget about pies and focus on you instead.”

  She smiled again, this one not as ragged around the edges. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “Berries,” he said. “We don’t want Hortese to laser her pink eyes at us in temper.”

  They picked berries and chatted about commonplace things. Farming. Crops. Technology. Clothes. Music. Keira had never enjoyed berry picking so much.

  “You didn’t tell me what happened after it became known you couldn’t shift.”

  “The other children teased me, and it became impossible to attend the education center. Instead, my mother taught me to run a house and schooled me in herbs and plants. I stayed close to our home, and whenever my father arrived to spend time with my mother, I remained out of sight.”

  “That can’t have been easy.”

  “It was a lonely existence, but my marriage to Marcus saved me.”

  Jarlath frowned when she mentioned her husband.

  “Even though his son and daughter disapproved and refused to accept me, Marcus treated me like an equal. He was a good man, and I owe him much.”

  “Why did he seek a wife off-planet?”

  “I’ve no idea.” Her crow cawed, liar, liar, and Keira stared at the bushes, the ripe berries, and prayed Jarlath didn’t hear her contrary bird. Marcus had been dying and he’d needed her help and knowledge of herbs to counter the pain. He’d wanted this kept quiet and she still held his secret. Her bird finally subsided, the slice of quiet mocking rather than peaceful.

  “You never asked him?”

  “I was grateful to leave Gramite and grasped the opportunity, even though I knew I wouldn’t see my mother again.”

  “I lost the ability to shift,” Jarlath said without warning. “Well, until recently. For some reason my feline is alert again.”

  “What?” Shock made her hand jerk and a berry bounced off her boot before rolling out of sight beneath a bush.

  “It’s true. We’ve managed to keep it quiet, but many of our people have lost the ability to shift to feline.”

  “But I haven’t heard rumors in the market. Not a whisper.”

  “No, most people are ashamed of the lack and don’t speak about the problem.”

  “Razvan will find out. I’m sure he has spies on this planet.”

  “I’m sure he does, just as we have spies on Gramite.”

  Why had he told her this? Because he trusts you. “You don’t know me well.”

  “I’m a good judge of character. People seek to use my position. You haven’t.”

  “We haven’t known each other long. I haven’t had a chance.”

  His grin was a burst of white teeth, a crinkling of sexy green eyes. “I plan to use you and use you well. I’m thinking we’ll both enjoy the mutual exploitation.”

  “I’ve heard Prince Lynx is a terrible flirt and has a reputation with the ladies. I think you’re made
in a similar vein.”

  “Only with you.” He set his container of berries down and stalked her. His gaze connected with hers and held as he moved toward her with sinuous grace. He cupped her face, his fingers gentle while pure naughtiness curved his lips. “I haven’t met anyone else who entices me to exert my charm.”

  “I’m a widow and my birth makes me the enemy. You shouldn’t be with me.” One last attempt to stop this folly.

  His chin lifted, his expression sliding into lines of arrogance. “I like you. I have from our first meeting. You don’t treat me like a prince.”

  “How do I treat you?”

  “Like a man. We’ve picked enough berries. Let’s go swimming.”

  Keira glanced down at her container. The berries came up to the three-quarter mark and Jarlath had picked about the same amount. “Hortese will grumble.”

  “Let her,” Jarlath said. “She’s lucky we picked any berries.”

  Keira snapped covers over both containers and placed them in the flymo. “Bring the basket. The swimming hole isn’t far.”

  “I can hear the bubble of water,” Jarlath said. “Is it cold?”

  “Refreshing,” Keira countered with a glance back at Jarlath. With his dark hair loose, stubble shading his jaw and his common clothes, he could have passed for a laborer. “Do you shave?”

  His mouth tipped up and she noticed a cute indentation to the right side of his lips. “I use stop-beard. Need another application.”

  “I like the stubble. It looks sexy on you.”

  Keira led the way into another clearing, bordered by the forest and more berry bushes. A stream cut through, making the fourth boundary. The solar star shone, making the water glisten.

  “It’s beautiful. Do you come here often?”

  “Hortese and I visit on occasion, but the farm work keeps us busy.”

  “You work too hard.”

  “I like activity.”

  “I understand. It’s better to keep the mind and the body active. Last one in is a rotten fodo egg.” Jarlath unfastened the toggles of his black tunic and tossed it aside to reveal a tanned and muscular chest.

  This man might complain about sitting in a cage, but he didn’t laze around eating choc-sweets either. Keira’s fingers ceased unfastening her tunic and she gaped, her mouth going dry. Marcus hadn’t looked like this—all muscles and fluid motion. Like Marcus, Jarlath bore a tattoo of a black cat, etched into his biceps, signifying he was of the feline species. Her fingers itched to touch every part of him, to explore his sexy form.

  Jarlath sat on a rock to tug off his boots. His gaze met hers and he paused. “What?”

  “You are beautiful.”

  “Men aren’t beautiful.”

  “Let me rephrase. Your body is very attractive.”

  “You haven’t seen all of me yet.” Humor glinted in him as he stood and stripped trews down his muscular legs. When he straightened again, he was naked and sporting a full-out smirk plus an erection.

  For her.

  While Keira gaped, he coughed, and her attention darted to his face.

  His nose lifted and he sniffed. “What is that I smell? Ah, yes. A fodo egg.” He sauntered to the water’s edge and dove under the water, the volley of splashes rousing Keira from her stupor.

  Feeling unaccountably shy, she disrobed and stepped into the swimming hole. She gasped at the chilly water lapping around her toes.

  “It’s not bad once you’re in.” Jarlath made no secret of his interest and her wretched crow started its insistent caw-caw again.

  “Come here, sweetheart. I’ll warm you.”

  “This isn’t a good idea.” While Jarlath made no secret of his desire to have her, she worried about consequences. The realist in her knew they had no future together. How could there be when he was heir to the throne?

  “I’m not going to force you. If you don’t want this, I’ll walk away. We haven’t known each other long, but every time we’re together, my feline goes crazy. It feels as if my cat is going to burst from my skin.”

  “You too,” she blurted. “I have never felt this before, but since I met you my crow has woken and caws in temper. She spears her talons into my flesh. It’s disconcerting.”

  “Maybe it’s a sign. Sweetheart, admit it. You want me as much as I want you. Your kisses give away your feelings.”

  She sighed. She did want him. Maybe she should take what she wanted and worry about consequences later. “Yes, you’re right.”

  “Come to me then.”

  He was making her feel claimed rather than coerced. Without further thought, she waded into the water, her attention fixed on him.

  A tiny smile played around his lips, making him seem more normal rather than the untouchable prince.

  “I like it when you smile. When I first met you I didn’t think you knew how.”

  “Oh, I knew.” He drew her against his chest. “Until I met you there wasn’t much to smile about.”

  His mouth covering hers stopped her reply, but pleasure at his words soothed the last of her concerns. They couldn’t have a future, and yet she wanted to enjoy this stolen time with Jarlath.

  “I love the color of your skin,” he said against her lips. “So pretty.”

  “Inherited from my mother,” she said.

  “You miss her.”

  “Yes.” Even though she’d never understood her mother’s love and loyalty to Xavier Cronan. The man had creeped her out as a child, and his son—her half-brother—even worse. “I thought you intended to seduce me?”

  “I wanted you comfortable before I pounced.” His hands slid down her naked back to cup her bottom. “The thought of you changing your mind—”

  “Won’t happen. I’ve made up my mind.”

  “Good.”

  Mischief lurked in his green eyes, and she found herself smiling, willing to accept his pace.

  “I think we’ve played enough,” he said without warning and hauled her to the spot where they’d left their picnic basket.

  Jarlath took her in his arms again and sensual tension fired to life. His hands ran up and down her arms and hips and back while he pressed a trail of kisses from her mouth to her jawline and down her neck. His teeth played across the flesh at the base of her neck, scraping back and forth.

  She shuddered, pleasure at his touch like warm syrup running along her veins. Her heart ventricles pumped overtime while her crow made soft sounds that echoed through her mind and sounded surprisingly catlike.

  “Let me look at you,” he said and gently pushed her away. “Beautiful breasts. Slim body yet strong muscle definition too. Ah, Keira. So pretty. I have never wanted another woman as much as I want you.”

  “I want you too.”

  He spread the blanket Hortese had sent with them on the ground then swept her into his arms with a broad grin. “Let’s get to the fukking.”

  Chapter Seven

  The blunt language was an attempt to put this situation in perspective. Keep this thing with Keira rooted in truth, because while he hated the idea of marriage, he knew he’d probably obey his parents. But try telling this to his feline. His other self strained against his skin and threatened to burst free.

  Jarlath attempted to slow his racing heart, taking deep breaths while he set Keira on the blanket. His feline stretched then subsided, leaving him in full control. Instantly, blood drained downward to settle in his shaft. Oh yeah. Both he and his feline were working in concert now.

  He caged Keira between his body and the blanket. His gaze shifted to her mouth, and he plundered that first, taking pleasure in the way she laced her fingers in his hair to hold him close. She writhed beneath him, communicating a hunger as deep as his own.

  “Keira,” he whispered when the need to breathe made him break their contact. “You have no idea how much I want this. You.”

  “Too much talking.”

  “I don’t want to scare you.”

  “Flying stars! I’m made of stern stuff.”

/>   Before he could blink, she rolled their bodies, so she ended up on top, straddling his hips and beaming like a bright solar star at her success. “Since you’re not in a hurry, I get a chance to explore.”

  “Have at it.” He hoped he managed to restrain his urgency. He’d try because most women were interested in one thing—scoring with a royal. Keira was different and intrigue filled him at what she might do, so he waited.

  She scooted back until his cock collided with her backside. “One part of you isn’t patient.”

  “You’d do well to remember that.”

  Her husky laugh had his feline bursting to action again. Jarlath curled his fingers—claws—into the blanket in an attempt to remain in place.

  Instead of replying, she ran her fingers over his chest and strummed his nipples. A growl squeezed past his lips and she chuckled. She set about taunting and teasing with a lick here, a pinch there and a kiss or two to change it up.

  “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”

  “No, my touch won’t injure you,” she cooed as she moved farther down his body.

  He quivered when one hand curled around his shaft. Her fingers were cool against his hot flesh, and he arched into her grip, a moan of pure pleasure escaping. “Again,” he demanded in a thick voice.

  “My pleasure.” Her hand went up and down, up and down, up and down until he trembled like a leaf in the wind.

  “Grata,” he muttered as desire prickled, as distressing as an uncatchable itch. Raw urgency suffused him, and he flipped her off and under him before she had time to blink. She grinned up at him, the delicate green highlighting her cheeks charming. Super sexy, she called to him on every level. “My turn.”

  He sealed his lips over hers and cupped one breast. His finger and thumb toyed with the nipple until it hardened and swelled. Her sweet taste filled his mouth while her scent enticed him. Flowers and arousal.

  Sweet.

  Addictive.

  Mine.

  His hand drifted down her flat belly. Her navel was a miniscule indent, a discovery he found fascinating. He paused to lick a lazy circle. His actions tugged a giggle from her, and he smiled against her satin skin. Moving lower, he parted her toned legs and trailed his fingers down her slit. She was hot and wet when his fingers slid over her smooth flesh.