She reached the lowest level of the Keep. Instead of dark and dank, twisty passages, she found well-lit corridors that were wide.
For a moment she hesitated outside the door. Their previous sex could be rationalized away as excitement from playing in the storm. If she went in now, they’d join together again—knowingly and deliberately on both their parts.
Letting her emotions, her sexuality, surface and overwhelm the sharp thoughts, Marian pushed the door open.
He stood waiting for her, shining droplets scattered over his body. The lush setting of colorful mosaic tiles complemented his golden skin, dark hair, blue eyes. A man in the prime of his life, he moved toward her with muscular power and grace. He could be a sultan, a water god. He was a Circlet, a great Sorcerer. A magnificent man.
An aroused man.
Her insides began to tremble as her body readied for him. No need to suppress logical thought patterns now—they were gone. Memories whirled through her of his hands, his lips, the sound of his low groan as he climaxed. She wanted it all again. More and longer.
She wanted to glide her hands over his firm muscles, feel the teasing prickle of his body hair. She wanted him over her and in her.
So she held out her hand, but he stepped past her. Half turning, she saw him place his palm against the door A maroon light flared around his fingers as he crooned, “Private and special, softly keep this place for us alone.”
That Song was a tune that repeated again and again in her mind as he came to her, smiling.
Eyes locked on hers, he took her hands, lifted one to his lips, turned it over and pressed a tingling kiss into her palm, then did the same with the other. He loosed her hands and her fingers curled inward, to hold his tender kisses.
His palms curled around her shoulders as he leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then her eyes closed as he touched his lips to each eyelid. He was undoing her, utterly. Nothing in the universe mattered save him, his soft mouth, his gentle wooing of her. She didn’t even care that he comprised her world. No warning alarms rang in her head. Only the deep languid feelings stirring inside her were important. Only the yearning that would coil tightly, demanding to be assuaged.
Her eyes opened again as he kissed the tip of her nose, brushed her lips with his. All so reverent, as if he was cherishing her. Her breath left on a moan.
She raised her own hands, placed them on his face, felt the elegant bones beneath his skin, saw the shadows under his eyes that grief had painted. Yet nothing in his touch, in his bearing, in his Song reverberated with grief and she was glad she gave him surcease from that emotion. She stroked his lean jaw, slid her thumbs over his full lips. Lips she had to taste. She tilted her head and drew his mouth to hers.
The meeting of their lips was the most exquisite thing she’d ever felt. Promising. Infinitely promising. She could believe anything with his mouth against hers. Feel everything. She opened her lips, feathered her tongue across his lips, savored his taste of wild forest herbs, of wind, of man, bringing it into her to keep.
His tongue followed suit, traced his taste over her lips, relished her, then plunged into her mouth, penetrating, exploring, as if all her essence could be learned from this kiss.
He broke the embrace and stepped back, his eyes dark, his face taut with passion, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. When he raised his hands they trembled, and he met her eyes and laughed. “What you do to me, Lady. Beauty—of heart, of mind, of body, of Song. I have never heard such a compelling Song.” Fisting his hands as if checking they still obeyed him, he crushed the fabric of her dress at her shoulders, then lifted the gown from her, tossing it aside to lie like an emerald shadow.
A raspy noise caught in his throat as he studied her. He shook his head. “Exotique. Who knew such splendor existed—pale skin, red, red hair, nipples the color of—” Again the groan and head shake. “Beyond any Lladranan delights.”
Frowning, he said, “What happened to that—that garment which molds your breasts?”
She felt herself blush, and since it started above her breasts he watched with interest. “My bra?” She nodded to the gown. “It’s in a pocket of my gown.”
“Yet you wear the lower piece that emphasizes your femininity.”
It was nothing more than a pair of high-cut panties.
Jaquar shuddered. “You’d best hurry and bathe. I have already done so. I can’t stand the wait for you much longer.”
She shucked her panties, scanned the tile for puddles and avoided his tracks as she hurried to the pool. She decided it was long and deep enough for a flat dive. The Marshalls did themselves proud.
The water—warm and gliding silkily against her skin—full of herbs, she guessed. Her fingers touched the bench jutting from the pool wall and she surfaced. She shook her head to fling her hair from her eyes and glanced around.
Jaquar slowly walked to the pool. She thought she could see the heat of desire emanating from him in the steam.
Marian ducked under, then bobbed back up. She wanted to soak her bruised body—later. She spied a dish of soaps, grabbed the first one and began a scrub. She’d just done her hair when Jaquar put his hands under her arms and drew her from the water.
She gasped, but before she could protest, he was washing her thoroughly. She moaned and hung on to him as his slick hands caressed her, massaging her breasts until all she could hear was her own panting. He was relentless, sliding his hands over the curve of her hips and belly, up and down her legs. His fingers delved between her thighs, exquisitely, knowledgeably. Her balance wavered.
Her vision dimmed, but her sense of smell heightened. The fragrance of the soap rose to her nostrils—aloe and something sharper that reminded her of deserts more than green Lladrana. It mixed with a luxurious scent that she realized with a touch of self-consciousness was her own arousal. Then there was Jaquar’s natural scent, and his own musky arousal. She whimpered as the combination blew through her like a scouring wind, hollowing so she could be filled with something else, something new.
And filled with man.
She swayed toward him.
His hands were strong around her waist. “Take a breath. I’ll rinse you, then…then…”
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.
“By the Song, your breasts…” he murmured. She was raised, then lowered gently into the water that lapped against the soles of her feet, causing her toes to curl. The water flowed up her calves to her knees, to her thighs. Then it warmed her sex, and she shuddered, she was so aroused. He slipped her farther into the pool until her breasts floated, nipples tight, and she began to moan.
“Breathe!” he warned.
She shut her mouth. The water caressed her neck, rose over her face, tingled her scalp as her hair spread out.
He smoothed his hands up her body under the water and she could do nothing but twist under his touch. His fingers untangled her hair, then he caught her under her arms and pulled her out of the water.
Releasing her breath in a puff, she finally opened her eyes to see his face taut, and a flush on his skin that affected her even more. She needed him.
The cool air evaporating the water on her contrasted with her heated blood, coiling her arousal tighter. She’d never been so aware of her entire body, and the throbbing of her sex.
Then he settled her on a soft, fluffy bathsheet, big enough to hold them both. One of his hands curved around the back of her neck, bringing her lips close for his kiss. He plunged his cool tongue into her mouth as he angled his body over hers, slipping his knees between her thighs. The roughened brush of his body hair against her sensitized skin had her arching to meet him, welcome him.
He thrust into her, long, deep, powerfully.
She sucked on his tongue, stared into his eyes. He withdrew slightly, lunged again, and she shattered into bliss.
He groaned and followed.
Their Songs merged, took from each other, gave to each other.
Changed them both.
>
Marian felt enveloped by him. His warmth surrounded her, and the exotic fragrance of bath and sex whirled around her. Time slowed.
Finally, he lifted his head and his gaze was as piercing as ever.
She outlined his cheekbone with the pad of her thumb, chuckled. “You are back to thinking, Jaquar?”
He opened his mouth, hesitated, cleared his throat. “You can talk.” He set his brow against hers. “I’m going to roll us over into the pool for a quick cleansing.”
“I don’t think—”
The water slid over them. They didn’t hit the bench as she’d feared. Nor did they separate. Jaquar kicked, found his feet, and his hands slid to cup her bottom, entering her.
He flexed his muscles, all of his muscles, and Marian began the spiraling climb to the center of the storm once more.
“What’s going on in there? Open up now!” a woman shouted from outside the door, banging on it.
Jaquar jerked, withdrew. He grasped her hand and pulled her to the corner stairs leading out of the pool.
“Don’t make us use our batons to get in,” threatened the woman. She sounded like an angry parent scolding unruly children.
Marian couldn’t help herself, she laughed.
There was silence, then a more subdued shout. “I don’t recognize you.”
“It’s Exotique Marian and Circlet Jaquar,” Jaquar said coolly, taking a large terry-clothlike robe in midnight blue from a hook on one of the pillars. He wrapped himself in it, then brought another to Marian. It was purple.
Surely this was Alexa’s robe.
It was too long for Alexa. It was Marian’s robe. She was so bemused by the startling color and its very presence that she allowed Jaquar to help her on with it. He stood behind her, overlapped the front and tied the belt in a loose knot, then brought her back against him.
He felt hard and solid and wonderful. His breath was sweet and warm next to her ear. Tenderness flowed from him.
“Ahem,” rumbled a male outside the door. “These are the Marshalls’ baths. And we are the Marshalls, yet the door is warded for privacy against us. Do you think you could finish up quickly in there? Training took place in mud fields today.”
“Quickly?” whispered Jaquar. “I think not—not this next time.”
Heat washed over Marian. “We’re coming out. Jaquar, can you dismiss the ward?”
He heaved a sigh. “If I must.” With a wicked grin, he continued, “Our loving will be better in bed, anyway.”
Heavens. An-ti-ci-pa-tion. Marian swallowed, fiddled with adjusting her robe. She hoped they didn’t look as if they had had hot and sweaty sex, since they hadn’t. It had been more like hot, wet, slippery sex. On the other hand, it was probably too late to impress the Marshalls. The damage of this little scene was already done.
On his way to the door, Jaquar picked up her panties and put them in his pocket.
“I want those!” Marian demanded.
He shrugged, rolled their clothes together and tucked them under his arm. He touched the door with one finger. “Open.”
“Thank you,” the man outside muttered.
Jaquar stood aside and people swept in. The first was a huge man, already shirtless and showing a massive chest covered with scars. Another was a stately woman with narrowed eyes.
Marian dipped in a little curtsy. “Salutations.”
“Salutations,” the woman said. “And to you, Jaquar.”
He inclined his head to the group, “Swordmarshall Thealia.”
Some moved to opposite sides of the room and behind openings Marian hadn’t noticed. Dressing rooms?
Jaquar caught Marian’s hand in his own. He smiled charmingly at Thealia. “Sorry to delay you. We rode the lightning tonight and got quite dirty.”
Those who were still in the main bathroom froze.
Thealia opened her mouth, hesitated, then shook her head and waved toward the door. “We have business to discuss. Depart.”
“Of course,” Jaquar said. Tugging slightly on Marian, he led her away.
After he shut the door, he waited for a moment, and Marian heard the rise of excited voices.
Jaquar smiled in satisfaction. “That will give them something to talk about.”
Tucking her hand in the crook of his arm, he led her to their suite under Alexa’s rooms. This door, too, he warded for privacy, and Marian watched him and knew she’d learned enough to do the little whistle spell herself.
He came back to her and put his hands on her shoulders, rested his brow on hers. “In the baths, I was too aroused to think. But I want our coming together to be sharing and mutual pleasure, Marian. An act of conscious decision. Sleep with me,” he said unsteadily. “More, take me into you and merge with me and hold me and rock me to infinite Song.” He removed her robe in a quick sweeping movement. “As I will do for you in return.”
She’d never believed a person could talk too much, but Jaquar certainly was doing so. What was that old movie line? “Shut up, you fool, and take me to bed.” Worked for her.
He grinned, and laughter rolled from him. He swung her up into his arms.
22
Jaquar didn’t sleep well. All he wanted to do was forget himself in Marian’s tight body. But he had to speak to Bastien. Once the Marshalls agreed to the new plan to assault the Dark, Marian would be completely safe. As it was, he was certain he had a couple of days before Chalmon and Venetria would act. Chalmon might have derided the Marshalls when it came to making speedy decisions, but most Circlets were even slower. And Chalmon and Venetria alone could not Send Marian; they would have to convince others to help. That, too, took time, and Jaquar had heard no rumblings.
So he dozed and finally heard Alexa return—alone. He dressed quickly in just a robe and walked to the volaran stables. The night was quiet, the sky blazing with stars. Except for a patrolling guard, he was the only one abroad. Even when he passed from Temple Ward to Lower Ward, he saw few people. If Chevaliers were partying, it was in the Nom de Nom or the tiny inn in the outer Castle wall.
He met Bastien as the man exited from the stable passage into the ward. Bastien stood and stretched, breathing deeply. He smelled of sweat—volaran and his own—and other odors that Jaquar didn’t want to identify.
Bastien grinned and joined him. “Beautiful night!”
“The volaran mare?”
“Very fine! With a fine filly.”
“Excellent.”
“That it is.” Bastien made to throw an arm around Jaquar’s shoulders and chuckled as he stepped aside. “So, Circlet, what do you want of me? Permission to raise a Tower in the middle of Horseshoe Close, here?”
“As if you could grant such.”
Bastien laughed, touched the baton at his hip. “I have more influence now.”
“I’ve come to speak of the Dark.” Feeling a little wary of the shadows, Jaquar walked to the middle of the ward and slowly began to return to Alexa’s tower. Bastien accompanied him. “Is this about plane-walking and finding a maw of evil?”
“You’ve heard?”
Bastien shrugged. “Rumors.”
Jaquar told him of his first trip to the nest and the master’s words, then laid out his new plan.
“No,” Bastien said flatly, muscles tense. He was all warrior now. He swept his fingers through his black-and-silver hair. “I can’t plane-walk. I don’t have the control due to the remnants of my wild Power. I am Alexa’s Shield, her protector, her Pairling. I will not allow her to fly into this battle without me.”
They’d neared the gate to Temple Ward, and didn’t speak until they’d passed through and were beyond the guards’ hearing.
Bastien frowned. “Besides, Alexa is an Exotique. She is tied to Amee by me, and the rest of the Marshalls, but her bond with the world is not as strong as that of someone who was born here. She could get lost among the planes.” He glanced at Jaquar. “If it were on this physical plane, we’d fight, but not otherwise.”
“It is Marian’s t
ask, then, to fight the Dark in its nest.” Bile rose in Jaquar’s throat. He’d make sure she didn’t go in alone, and that she was Circlet of the Fifth Degree before they attempted it.
“No,” Bastien said, and it took a moment for Jaquar to realize what he’d heard.
He stopped outside the Assayer’s Office and stared at Bastien. “No?”
Bastien shook his head. “I can’t think her task is to destroy the nest all by herself. Powerful as she is, I don’t think she could do it. She might harm it, but if she didn’t destroy the Dark, too, the nest would regenerate.”
“True.”
Walking to the entryway of the Keep, Bastien said, “All indications show that every community of Lladrana must be integrated and cooperating to destroy the Dark.”
“Also true.” They’d reached the landing below Marian’s suite.
“Don’t say anything about this to the Marshalls’ Council tomorrow morning. I want to tell Alexa myself, and I need awhile to figure out how to do that.”
“Very well,” Jaquar said, and watched Bastien take the stairs up.
His plan was ruined, but only he and Bastien knew. Jaquar had a couple of days to come up with a new one, but he wouldn’t do it alone; he must consult with Bossgond.
He entered the suite and watched Marian sleep. Her skin was so pale in the moonlight, her body so beautiful, her expression so pleased, it made him ache.
Jaquar went and showered, then returned to her. As he slowly woke her, caressed her into moaning passion and took her on another wild ride, he wondered how long he would have her.
He loved seeing the passion and affection in her eyes, the hint of hero-worship. That would die when he warned her, told her what he himself had set in motion.
He’d dealt with too many deaths lately.
It was dawn when Chalmon dismissed the Circlets and Scholars who had been practicing the Sending ritual and looked at Venetria. “Your contribution to the Sending Song was weak. I can’t do it without you.”
“Even though I don’t agree with you?”
Sorceress of Faith Page 25
