by Lisa Kumar
Though she didn’t look directly at Talion, she knew he stared at her. His gaze raised all the hairs on her arms.
“I’m not feeling very well, so I think I’ll go to my room.”
“Do you require assistance in retiring, my dear?”
While his voice was courteous, the subtle undertones in it hinted at something a little more intimate than what a typical lady’s maid would do. He better not suggest he go with her.
Heat scalded her face. “I’m fine.”
“I thought you were feeling poorly?”
She was so not in the mood for his damn word games. “I am, but I’m not so disabled I need help to make it back to my room.”
“I can call for Vana, or if you’d like, Calantha can go with you instead?”
Cal piped up, “I’d be happy to.”
Grr, she wanted to be by herself. Didn’t Talion see that? Didn’t the others? “No, really, I just want a nice, quiet place to rest.”
Talion inclined his head. “I will send someone by to look in on you later.”
How did she know he’d be the one to stop by? Arousal and dread mixed inside her already churning stomach. There went her nice, quiet night. She muttered, “Good night” to everyone at the table, then headed toward the doors.
Again, the skin on the back of her neck prickled as if someone watched, or even worse, followed her. A quick glance around revealed nothing beyond the ordinary. But the feeling someone trailed her still remained.
Once she was out of the great hall, the sensation of being followed intensified. She strained to hear any suspicious noise.
Most elves were light of feet, but they did make noise if one listened carefully. Was that the whisper of shoes against a rug? She cursed. First a horny king, now an elf stalker? For some reason, she wasn’t afraid. She was annoyed.
“Okay, come out. I know you’re there.”
An elvin man slipped around a darkened corner to stand a few feet from her. The set of his elegant features almost made his handsome face pretty, but there was a quality that saved him from this fate. Hmph, good looking like almost every other elf she’d come across.
Platinum hair hung down to his shoulders. In fact, it looked spookily like Blondie’s, minus the curls. At the reminder, ire lit in her chest.
“Who are you, and why are you following me?” Anger made her tone sharp.
He smiled and executed a small bow. “Excuse me, I’ve been remiss in introducing myself. I am Alanon.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “You’ve been remiss in stalking me.”
“Never stalking. I merely followed you in the hopes we could be friends.”
Oh God, not one of those. Whenever a stranger walked up to her and wanted to be friends, it meant he wanted to have sex with her. Why couldn’t a guy just say what he really wanted? Of course, she wouldn’t take him anymore seriously, but neither would she have to guess his intentions.
“That same tired, old line?”
“I have long admired you. You’re a remarkable human.”
What loony farm was he from? Just because she was human didn’t mean she was some exotic hothouse flower.
“Right.” The sarcasm in her voice drew out the word. “I’m probably one of the only humans you know.”
He ignored her brilliant observation. “You have such poise. And the way you go head to head against the king is truly a magnificent sight.”
Maybe the guy wasn’t so bad after all. But why would he care if she stood up to the king? Well, other than for the entertainment.
“Look, what do you want? I’ve a lot on my mind and don’t appreciate the distraction.”
He didn’t even blink at her bluntness. Grudging respect kindled in her. Nothing got this man down.
“I believe you’ve made the acquaintance of my sister.”
“Your sister could be one of any number of women I know.”
His grin grew mischievous. “But how many frou-frou creatures do you know?”
Surprise blind-sided her. “She’s your sister?”
“My twin, Alalise, to be exact.”
She scowled. It did explain the hair, but how did he already know of the meeting…unless dear sis told him?
What would she learn next? That Talion liked males, and he’d double-teamed the twins? She always figured she’d like adventurous men, but this was ridiculous.
“And how well do you know the king?”
He chuckled. “Not as well as my sister, never fear.”
“I’m sure a lot of ladies know him, then.”
“I see his reputation precedes him, but far more women know of him than anything else. When you’re king, you can choose the crème of the crop.” As he said this, his gaze swept over her. She would’ve felt woefully inadequate at his words, but the heat in his eyes left no doubt he found her attractive.
Damn, if she weren’t knee-deep into Talion, she’d return the favor. No matter how she’d gotten bound to him, though, she wasn’t a cheater. And one man was hard enough to juggle, let alone two.
She shrugged. “How fortunate I’m not the crème of the crop.” Best to play it off like there could never be any interest between her and Talion, at least until she figured her head out. And her heart, some treacherous part of her chimed in.
“Let me be the judge of that.” He stalked around her, checking her out from every angle.
She arched a brow. “Like what you see?”
“No sense in denying it. You and Princess Calantha have created quite a stir with your human beauty. Such looks are quite rare.”
“Yeah, considering we’re the only two humans here.”
He laughed. “You have me there.”
She let a smile cross her face, and her heart lightened a bit. It was hard to stay cold to such merriment. He was a charming mixture of Kenhel’s goofiness and Avrin’s sexy refinement. And was just as fabulous looking as them, too.
“You’re much more pleasant than your sister.”
He waved airily. “Alalise is never overly friendly to competition and is somewhat of a snob.”
“Competition? And I kind of guessed she’s a snob, especially when it comes to humans.”
All amusement left his face. “You grab attention wherever you go. This is my sister’s forte, and she doesn’t like to share—anything.”
“Is that a warning? If so, it’s lost on me, because it’s not needed.”
“Not exactly a warning. Alalise knows what she wants and doesn’t take kindly to outsiders interloping on her territory.”
“I want nothing of hers.” That’s a lie. But even if it was, Talion wasn’t Alalise’s anymore. He was hers, whether she wanted him or not.
He shook his head. “Be careful. My sister isn’t all she seems.”
“She appeared nice enough for a snobbish elf lady.” But she’s touched my man. At the rebellious thought, she glowered. She couldn’t be jealous, damn it. This feeling could lead to other ones, and she didn’t want that complication.
He leaned in closer. “This isn’t the proper p—”
“Alanon, are you here?” A female’s voice echoed in the hallway.
“Speak of the wicked, there’s my dear sister now.” His voice lowered. “Say we can talk again? I think you need a friend more than ever.” Before she could answer, he bowed his head then disappeared around the corner he’d come from.
What the heck did he mean by “you need a friend more than ever?” Could he and his sister know about her and Talion? Her hands shook at the possibility. The chances both would run into her today seemed slim. If they did know something, they clearly had an agenda.
She could always tell Talion, but what if it was nothing? And confiding in him wasn’t something she wanted to do right now. Holding herself aloof and nurturing her anger would be much better. But what would she do about the twin menace who now hounded her? That matter would take some thinking upon.
A grim laugh left her lips. One more thing to obsess over. Great.
And her head pounded. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter 8
Talion exited his library and rubbed a weary hand over his eyes. Many envied his position, but a ruler’s work was never done. Now, Maggie awaited him. He laughed ruefully. More like he had to go deal with her.
His feet guided him to her. The bond told him exactly where to go. Had this convenient yet obtrusive facet awakened within her, too? Since she was human, the bond’s qualities would probably take longer to reach their complete potential. He hoped so. At the moment Maggie wouldn’t appreciate the attributes of the bond. The longer he could put off explaining them to her, the better. He’d take all the time he could get. With her delightful stubbornness, he’d need it.
He didn’t bother to knock at her door. She was his wife, and this was his palace. Plus, it would rile her. He grinned. Let the entertainment begin.
But one look at the figure resting on the bed told him it wasn’t to be. Maggie was asleep, her hands curled under her head. A childlike innocence clung to her, so missing in her everyday demeanor. Her light-brown hair fanned over her pillow. His fingers itched to run through that riot of tresses. Never one to deny himself the simple pleasures, he dove his fingers into the silky pile and groaned. Just touching her almost undid him.
She stirred, and his fingers stilled. He waited until her breathing became even and deep before removing his hands.
The urge to wake her hit him with the force of a stampeding horse. His hands fisted until the worst of the sensation passed.
He desired to be buried in her. But the need to let her sleep trumped it. She was human. He could never forget that. Their health was more fragile than an elf’s, and Maggie required more sleep than him. Plus, if he woke her, she’d probably greet him like an attacking bear.
A glance at the clock across the room revealed it was after midnight. He sighed. Though he didn’t require as much rest as Maggie, he needed some to function effectively.
A step took him away from her bed. But her presence beckoned and pulled him back to her side. He stood by the edge of the bed, uncertainty choking him. Touching her would be a mistake, because he wouldn’t be able to stop. Waking her up wasn’t a possibility he’d entertain. He was chained to her side more securely than any metal shackle could devise.
Every time they parted, something inside him resisted being away from her. He grimaced. This reliance on someone other than himself unsettled him. It went against his very nature. But he wasn’t fool enough to believe he could break the bonds that caused this disquieting tie. Even if he could, would he want to?
His gaze caressed the curve of her cheek. Maggie engaged and angered him like no other female. To him, she was a vibrant, beautiful person, though some elvin women possessed a more classical beauty. But the fact remained she was human. And this came with special challenges for everyone concerned.
His mind catalogued all the foreseeable issues they’d face. For one, she’d have to accept a nearly immortal life, just as Cal had. And his people would have to accept another human into the royal family. It would be no small feat. Relian’s case had been trying enough, but didn’t have the same propensity for trouble as his own bonding did. Since he would rule for many more millennia, the fact Relian’s bond mate was human hadn’t seemed so dire.
But this? He’d have to proceed carefully if he wanted to maintain control of his subjects—and Maggie. He smiled ruefully. Control might be the wrong word in association with Maggie. Manage had a better sound to it. The day would come when he’d claim her publicly, and it had to be turned to his advantage so he could secure her place by his side and in his arms. To do that, he had to be prepared to fight a battle on both fronts—not only with Maggie but also with any dissenters among his subjects.
His head throbbed from all the plans he’d been putting into motion, and he ran a hand through his hair. Some days he feared he’d lived too long for all this. But Maggie rejuvenated him, made him feel younger. Which was a good thing, because with her, he needed all the energy he could get.
Until his plans fell into line, he’d bide his time and get to know Maggie better. They were bonded, but there was so much he didn’t know about her. Women loved such talk, so it should be an easy thing.
He bent down, smoothed the hair away from her forehead then placed a kiss on her soft skin. With one last glance, he pulled himself away and left the room.
***
Talion hadn’t come to her. This thought swirled around in Maggie’s sleep-fuzzed brain until it buzzed in an incessant litany. She sat up in bed as disappointment warred with relief. He hadn’t checked on her. She shook her head in incredulity. To think she’d been so sure he would.
Just when she believed she had him figured out, he pulled a new trick from his robe. She’d remember it next time. Her chest twinged as if in sympathy, and she rubbed the ache. Great, now he gave her heartburn. But the ache was too reminiscent of the one she’d felt before they “officially” consummated their bond for it to be coincidence. Her hands fisted in the sheets. To think she’d have to live with him for the rest of her— She groaned. No, she wouldn’t think about that right now.
She grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her. Why hadn’t he visited her? Had the fashion doll waylaid him? A growl worked its way up her throat. The floozy had better stay away from him.
Maybe since he’d gotten what he wanted—and the bond needed—from her, he was content to leave her alone? She frowned. That possibility wasn’t any better than the first. Damn him, where was he?
In an instant, something flared to life, and an image of his location flashed before her eyes. Alarm blazed within her, only to be replaced by anger a second later. What the hell? It appeared he left out some vital information about the effects of this godforsaken bond.
She stumbled out of bed, nearly tripping on the blankets that clung to her legs. A breeze blew across her bare shoulders when she neared the door, and she froze. Oh yeah, she was still in her nightgown. She spun around, looking around the room for something to cover up with. The matching robe lay where she’d left it last evening.
She stalked over to the chair and flung on the garment. Good enough. But as she started for the door again and left the nice comfy rug behind, her bare feet slapped against the marble floor. She cursed.
Her slippers lay under the chair. She closed the distance between her and the recalcitrant footwear, and slipped into them.
Now to track down His Highness. And thanks to him and their bond, finding him would be as easy as playing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” on the guitar. He was a sitting target in his office. She smiled humorlessly. At least he wasn’t in his library. That had seen enough action as it was.
She ignored the curious looks she received as she prowled the more public hallways. What? They weren’t used to seeing a human woman walking around the king’s palace in her nightgown? She smiled grimly. Maybe if she were one of Talion’s elvin chicks, it wouldn’t look so foreign to them.
Though the way was largely unfamiliar, her feet guided her without a problem and soon his door loomed before her. As always, guards stood nearby guarding the portal, but made no attempt to stop her. Interesting. He must’ve given her clearance. She considered the door for a moment. Should she knock or just shove her way in? Forcing her way in had a nice ring to it.
Wonder if anyone is with him. She shrugged. Only one way to find out. Her hand pushed the door open.
She froze, her gaze plastered to the scene before her.
Talion. And the living fashion doll. His hands were rubbing her arms. It looked like a comforting gesture. A comforting, intimate gesture. Hurt and anger bubbled in her veins. She shook with it, barely realizing when she stepped a few feet into the room.
Both elves stared at her, their blank faces telling her nothing. They were as cool as the blue office walls. Her gaze zeroed in on the hands stilled on Alalise’s arms. Those hands were supposed to caress only her. The image was seared into her brain. Even when she c
losed her eyes, she still saw them.
When she glanced back up, Talion’s toy had the guts to smile smugly at her. Maggie glared at the duo. Talion let Alalise’s arms go. Smart elf. It appeared he wanted to live.
Talion gazed at her dispassionately. “Yes, Maggie, what can I do for you?”
The courteousness in his voice set her nerves further aflame. What, now she was merely an acquaintance in front of his toy?
She spoke between gritted teeth. “I need to talk to you.” She sent a dark glance to Alalise. “Alone.”
He touched Alalise’s shoulder. “Go. We’ll finish our conversation later.”
Maggie swore she heard her own blood scream. He’d touched her again? Was he stupid or just suicidal?
Either he decided to humor her or he realized how pissed she was, because he turned his back on Alalise. Maggie smirked at the pout forming on Ms. Fashion Doll’s lips. Served the witch right. Messing with her man would get Alalise nowhere.
Her brain finally registered what it was saying. Her man? Since when had Talion been that? He was merely a problem she had to work out. So what if he was a handsome one to boot? It didn’t change anything. There had to be a loophole to this whole bond fiasco.
With a slight shake of her head, Maggie ripped herself out of her introspection. She needed to be in the present moment, not stuck in lala land.
Alalise sashayed toward the exit—and her. Maggie moved out of her path at the last moment possible. With any luck, the door would hit the Fashion Doll’s ass. Maybe if she stared hard enough…. But the traitorous door closed softly without getting one smack in.
Talion’s voice broke into her thoughts. “What brought you here in such a state?”
He had the balls to ask that?
She could be as cool as ice, too. A pivot of the heel brought her to face him. “Who says I’m angry?” Syrupy sweetness filled her voice.
“I never said you were, but you are. However, I was talking about you coming to my office in your nightgown and robe.” He sent a glance over her body that seemed to burn away her clothes. She shivered under its intensity.
