Heart Thief

by Robin D. Owens

  Ruis mumbled a curse.

  Samba trotted out of the brush with a dead mouse in her mouth that she dumped in a small pile. Ship’s right. You not as angry. You think clearer. You don’t make as many mistakes. I am good for you.

  Ruis considered this new information—more new information that was being crammed into his brain every day.

  He was changing.

  The man he’d become was being peeled back layer by layer so he could see how life had shaped him. He also admitted that, deep inside, despite everything, he held an inherent belief that everyone was essentially good. He groaned in disgust.

  The Ship acknowledging his worth, and his feelings for Ailim and Samba, had changed him.

  He glanced at his watch and his heart started thudding faster. Time to prepare for his night with Ailim. He ordered a maintenance ’bot to “recycle” the dead mice. “I’m going to shower and dress.”

  A few minutes later Ruis pulled his cloak and gloves on under Samba’s watchful stare. “I’m going to D’SilverFir’s, to help her. I’ll be back just before dawn.”

  I will come, too. D’SilverFir has puppy and Kitten.

  “It’s dangerous outside. My uncle’s guards know you’re my Fam, and you’re easily recognized.”

  Samba lifted her upper lip at the mention of Bucus, then her expression became smug and she slicked down a bit of hair on her shoulder. It is true. I am most Beautiful Cat.

  Ruis shut then opened his eyes. “Your collar’s unique, too.”

  She just lifted her nose.

  He cast his mind around for some way to deflect her. “How about playing with your folding-oracle toy? See what your future is?”

  Samba sniffed. My future with you and Ship is good. Toy made for fingers and thumbs.

  “I’ve seen you bat it around until it opens and shuts, peel back a corner, and have Ship read you your future.”

  “Your language has mutated,” Ship said. “And the proper name for the toy is a ‘cootie-catcher.’ ”

  Ruis stared, but when Samba trotted to the door, he grabbed the pointed-cornered piece of papyrus. “Here.”

  She swatted it halfheartedly, then indicated Ruis could peel back the folded corner and reveal the fortune.

  “ ‘You shall save the world and be a heroine in your own time,’ ” Ruis read, and frowned.

  That’s Me, agreed Samba. Time to go. Let’s go play!

  In desperation, Ruis addressed the Ship. “Ship, do you have a program that will amuse Samba for the evening?”

  “We always have proper entertainment for any crew,” Ship said.

  Suppressing a sigh, Ruis ordered, “Please provide, immediately.”

  A colorful holo the width of the room began to play. “The History of Cats on Earth,” Ship announced.

  Samba’s tail waved and her eyes widened. History of Cats! Samba trilled.

  The regal history of cats unrolled in colorful scenes. Samba looked riveted. Her purr rose to new levels. I will tell Ship of My History, the best. And of My Sire and Dam and T’Ash and D’Ash and Princess and My littermate Drena, and the new kittens coming.

  “We would appreciate the information for Our archives,” Ship responded.

  Awash with nervous anticipation, Ruis smoothed his clothes under the cape and adjusted the cloak. Impulsively he pressed the Prophecy program button.

  The bright blue light stream flickered on. The low, lilting female voice curled around his senses. “Program starting, please interrupt the ion stream for your reading.” Hating what he was doing, a stupid divination, but wanting to believe the night would go well, Ruis slashed his hand through the beam.

  Cards fluttered and fell in a colorful heap to disappear and leave only one holo image. The Captain who looked like Ruis and a small rounded lady with long dark hair and dancing gaze toasted each other with a gold and silver cup. After they drank, the Captain took the goblet from the Lady and placed both cups gently aside. Then he picked her up and whirled her around and around. They laughed together, a set as matched as the cups. Ruis tasted bitter envy at the couple in love. He could never be so free with his own lady.

  He narrowed his eyes. At first the setting looked like a Grove, but he could see shimmering, slightly curved silver walls through the leafy branches. It was the greensward on the Ship.

  “Follow your heart and you will triumph.” The breathy female voice said, still holding a hint of laughter.

  Ruis’s insides contracted. How he wished it were true. But he watched the image cycle again and again until he knew he had to get out. “Prophecy program dismissed.”

  “Blessed be, Captain Ruis Elder,” the Lady said.

  He sucked in a breath and left his quarters, striding to the door to Landing Park. He was the Captain of Nuada’s Sword, not merely the despised Ruis Elder.

  The Ship was helping him with the anger. He was growing in skill and confidence.

  Who was he becoming?

  He didn’t know.

  But he would learn.

  Maybe he could even save Shade.

  And Ruis vowed to follow his heart. The first thing it demanded was that he make love to his lady. Tonight.

  With a wave of her hand Ailim extinguished the glowlights in her bedroom. She didn’t know how she’d managed to survive the day. Because she was D’SilverFir, no doubt. She’d been trained to survive days like this, but sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be many more of them in her future.

  She shuddered. Always mindful of the strings to the D’SilverFir loan, she had agreed to the public show. Let the other nobles observe Ailim D’SilverFir and regard her as a GrandLady worthy of respect and consideration. The more nobles she could win to her side, the better.

  She undressed and put her casual dress into the cleanser, then took out the shift and robe she’d worn early that morning. Lifting the cloth to her nose, she inhaled deeply and imagined that she could smell a whiff of him—the outlaw she wanted.

  Her heart sped with giddy delight that he might come to her, touch her, help her, love her.

  Or perhaps it wasn’t delight that thundered through her veins, but apprehension.

  Sex was not something she’d often enjoyed. Not since she realized that if she lost herself in passion, her Flair spiraled wide. Then she knew exactly what the man she was being intimate with thought and felt.

  She shuddered as memory spun out her first sexual encounter. She’d believed her first man was making love with her.

  But in uncontrolled passion, she’d found out otherwise. He was just taking the edge off a physical hunger. With a jerk of her head she banished the past. No need to think of that man—who had considered her strange and not nearly as beautiful as the woman he really wanted. At least the old emotions of shock and shame were mostly gone.

  But Ruis would be different. Though she couldn’t read him, she sensed that he was an honorable man, obeyed his own rules. That those rules might not march with the standard laws of Celta bothered her, but she couldn’t fault him for acting outside them since they had never protected him.

  Now he was banished. When she shivered again she knew it was fear at his daring, at the thought he might be caught.

  Unable to stop her shudders, she donned her shift, then went to glance out the French doors that opened onto the terrace over the music room. The moons were high and would be full the next day. Nothing moved in the grounds.

  He shouldn’t come. He couldn’t come. He wouldn’t be able to avoid all her relatives or reach her rooms. With that gloomy conclusion she walked over to the platform of the huge four-poster bed draped with curtains and canopy—the empty, lonely bed—and climbed the small steps to get in.

  Primrose lingered downstairs in the GreatHall soaking up admiration and love. Ailim smiled. It was so long since she’d spoken with a member of the Family who approved of her that tears came to her eyes. She shook them away—merely tiredness and self-pity. Now she’d formally sworn to lead and protect her Family. It was her duty, and hopeful
ly her duty would transform into pleasure once she made this transition and the Family’s loan was completely approved in six months.

  The only part of the day that had been enjoyable was the evening Mabon ritual she’d conducted with her Family in the sacred Grove on the estate grounds. She’d chanted incantations and gathered the combined Family psi power to fashion spells for prosperity. During the ceremony soothing renewal had flowed into her, uplifting and inspiring her. The Grove had shimmered with magic and holiness, and she wondered how she could have considered selling the home that called to her heart.

  Ailim drifted to sleep and dreamt again of Ruis Elder. She became aware of his scent first and smiled, knowing she dreamed, for his scent wasn’t the one she recalled.

  His aroma had changed, the spices were still there, but subtly different, the obscure undertone was the same, but intensified. So she knew she dreamed, and she sighed as his fragrance enveloped her.

  She could feel his body heat as well. The air outside her covers held the cool of autumn and the first bite of winter, but next to her was warmth, and she imagined the steady thudding of his heart, strong and comforting.

  The warmth enclosed her and gradually transformed into heat, almost as though she felt a hard body a hair’s breadth away—muscled thighs, a wide chest. Sensuality uncurled inside her and built into taut desire.

  Soft touches brushed over her cheek, an airy wisp trailed across her collarbone, and she thought of Ruis’s elegant fingers. Her breathing sped.

  A firm, moist pressure came against her lips and stoked her twisting hunger. She knew this taste, Ruis, and his kiss.

  His dream kisses had never felt so real, but this one demanded she respond. She opened her mouth and whimpered when his tongue glided into her mouth and explored. She slid her own tongue against his, teasing herself and him, sucking, touching, then withdrawing, feeling coiled tension wind even tighter.

  Her body arched in passion, came up solidly to his, so she rubbed herself against him. Her fingers sought the silkiness of his hair and tangled in it, bringing his head closer, deepening the kiss.

  The slight nip of his teeth on her bottom lip brought her eyelids flying open.

  He was here!

  In the solid flesh. The heat of his desire transferred from his skin to hers. She felt the tautness of his muscles, the heaviness of his hands splayed on her back and the rigidity of his sex near the apex of her thighs.

  His scent became muskier; the raggedness of his rapid breath fanned her shoulder, bringing tingles. Candles brightened the room and flickered over the taut planes of his face.

  She tasted.

  All her senses, freed once more from the oppression of her Flair, exploded until her wits spun, and she could not bear to deny herself, or him. She sucked his lower lip inside her own mouth.

  He drew away and she could feel his piercing stare. He’d lit two pillar candles that provided a soft glow.

  Her lips throbbed from the passionate kisses. Her body throbbed with unfulfilled hunger.

  “I had to come,” he murmured. “to make love with you. Also . . .” He stopped, mumbled, “to ask—”

  His fingers pushed hair back from her face and trailed down her cheek. “You are beautiful, and so special.” His head angled to kiss her again, but his lips only brushed hers as if now he was hesitant. “Roll over and I shall massage you.”

  “Only a massage?” she murmured, trapped in a honey golden moment, unable to free herself from drugged desire.

  The flash of vulnerability in his eyes almost made her think, but instead, she tucked the expression away in her memory so she could savor its sweetness later.

  His hand curved around her cheek and his pupils dilated. “We’ll love?” he asked with a raw note in his voice.

  “Yes.” She brought his hand to her mouth and placed a dozen butterfly kisses on his fingers, then licked his palm. His whole body jerked and she laughed.

  Ruis couldn’t believe his eyes. Ailim’s face was totally open and expressive, with no hint of any shield or mask that she wore for the world.

  Her mouth was lush and tempting, her cheeks a deeper shade of rose than he’d ever seen, but it was her delighted smile and the sparkle in her blue eyes that transfixed him. He knew that no one, and especially no man, had ever seen her so spontaneous. A precious gift for him.

  Blood pounded hotly through his veins but he couldn’t move. He hardly dared to move, wanting nothing more than to give her the most beautiful night of loving she could ever imagine. And he didn’t know how.

  With a shake of his head he flung doubts from his mind. It didn’t matter that he’d never experienced loving sex. He could give her tender passion. The emotion welled through him; there was no way he could fail.

  He sucked in an unsteady breath, and rose to his knees. With a smooth pull, he slid the bedcovers from her, then slipped her shift open with one glide of his thumb. Just as he had that morning, he spread the shift open and laid her bare before him.

  “Ruis,” she said, and he shuddered. She lifted her hands and drew them down his arms. The silkeen of his shirt felt fine against his skin, but her fingers against his muscles sparked a pulsing hunger that he couldn’t deny.

  One hand went behind her head and he lifted her so he could take her mouth. For only an instant she held arched and still in a sensual curve of beauty he’d always remember. Then her arms went around him, and pulled him down, her tongue penetrating his mouth and claiming him as her legs twined around him until his throbbing shaft lay against a warm moistness.

  Passion sizzled all thought. Only the texture of her tongue against his, the ripeness of her soft curves mattered. He luxuriated in the heat between them, and then pulled away to slip her arms from her shift and wrestle his own clothes off.

  As he fumbled, her small hands glided over him, squeezing his biceps, smoothing over his hipbone, curling around his waist, as if she was free from all bounds to explore him and satisfy her curiosity.

  He returned his attention to her, groaning, and kissed her lips once more, memorizing the taste of her mouth, then went on to sample the taste of the angle of her jaw, the salty dip in her collarbone, the succulent side of one plump breast.

  She gasped and her pale body trembled. The rose-colored tip of her breast lured him. He circled around her nipple. At her urging he took it into his mouth. The best taste of all, exploding through him. Her softness pillowed his mouth, her small, wild cries incited him to suckle deeply, hardening his sex to the point of pain, sending him into pure wondrous exultation that he pleasured her so.

  His skin burned, barely able to contain his blazing arousal as if he were a creature of pure fire. His teeth clenched against the hard need to pound into her, to take her with all the strength and passion at his demand.

  “Ruis, Ruis, Ruis,” she chanted, twining her fingers into his hair. He lifted his head and found a sheen of sweat dewing her skin. More tastes. More. Forever more.

  “Ailim,” he rasped.

  Her eyes focused and fixed on his face. She gasped, her mouth opened wordlessly, moved, then she cried, “Ruis!”

  He shuddered with the effort to hold his craving in check, and his name on her lips gave him a tiny shred of control. No woman had ever called his name in her passion. Sucking in his breath, he lowered his head to her collarbone and traced it with his tongue.

  She tugged his hair and the sweet pain shot lightning through his blood. He didn’t know how long he could last. With every breath he fought for restraint, to taste her again in special spots, at her sweet delta where the scent of her drove him mad.

  He pressed a kiss on her dark blond curls and she rose against him, keening. Her fingernails bit into his shoulders. “Yesssss!” she cried.

  His mind spun with dizziness and pulsing arousal. He tore himself from her clutching hands and one last sight of her torrid beauty pierced him before he took her.

  Her satiny skin slid against his. With one plunge he was inside and surrounded by her,
clasped in her tight, heated moistness. So exquisite he thought he’d die. Mind, body, soul connected to this one woman.

  Ailim thrust against him, her inner muscles clamped and she tensed, and one last drawn-out moan came from her lips.

  He exploded into flames and emptied himself into her, fragmented, unknowing if he’d ever be whole again.

  Their breathing sounded loud in the room, though he thought his ears still rang with her last cry. He wondered if she’d released a burst of Flaired energy when she climaxed but understood he’d never know, though the room was much warmer.

  A moment later her delicate fingers touched his chest. She caught a few of his hairs between her fingers and rubbed them.

  He grunted.

  She chuckled. The tip of her tongue laved the base of his neck. He shuddered as another bolt of lust sizzled through him, but managed to roll so they rested on their sides. His eyes were closed, streaks of fireworks still blazing on the inside of his lids.

  “Uuhhn . . .” he stopped, tried again. “Ahhh.” He hitched a breath. “That was too fast. Next time, I’ll do better.”

  She choked.

  He smoothed her hair from her face, enjoying how the fine strands clung to his fingers, but still didn’t open his eyes.

  Ailim spoke first. “What are you doing here? I told you not to come.”

  He sighed. He would have liked to pretend a few seconds longer that they were normal lovers.

  When she tried to roll away, he pulled her close, opening his eyes to scan her face for any regret. She looked well-loved, delectable, but concerned.

  “How did you get in here?” She stroked his face and the pleasure that speared him held nothing of lust, only encompassing tenderness. “What am I going to do with you?”

  Ruis cleared his throat and achieved a steady whisper. “Anything you want to, Ailim. Talk to me, play with me, bed me. Or turn me in to the authorities.”

  Her eyes went wide and she snorted. “As if I could ever do that after what we’ve shared.” She averted her gaze. “What I want to happen again,” she ended on a murmur.