Prince of Forever

by Gena Showalter

  “These pants are new and flattering. And I don’t have to worry about my legs getting cold.”

  “But I did not choose them.”

  “But,” she echoed with emphasis, “sexy clothing is not appropriate in the workplace. As a non-earthling, you’re just gonna have to trust me.”

  The bell above the door chimed, preventing him from commenting. Tristan and his adorable man-pout were forgotten as Julia focused her attention on Mrs. Danberry and the little dark-headed child she held.

  “Do you need protecting?” Tristan asked Julia.

  “No. For goodness sake, stay where you are.” Pasting on a bright smile, she focused on her customer. “May I help you?”

  * * *

  WITH JULIA distracted, Tristan swept the hacked-up phone into the trash, then settled back on his stool, his hands locked behind his head. What was he going to do with this woman? He still did not know.

  Early this dawning, she had bounced out of bed with ease, because she’d had a peaceful, undisturbed rest. He knew exactly how well she’d slept since he’d lain awake on the floor, listening to her breathy sounds of slumber, so aroused he’d ached all over.

  Several times, while they had readied themselves for another day at this shop, she’d tried to draw him into conversation about the weather, then about his home, yet he had not responded. Uncertainty still ate at him.

  He felt as if he were standing on a precipice, ready to forget his control and discipline and simply enjoy Julia one moment, wanting to prove he was impenetrable to softer emotions the next. The two needs warred within him, slashing against the other. Whichever direction he jumped, he suspected he’d only wish he’d taken the other.

  How Zirra would rejoice. Her fondest desire had finally come true. He wanted someone he couldn’t have, and it hurt. His frustration knew no bounds.

  He’d never been so torn…and he’d never known a woman could resist him quite so determinedly. Where were his legendary skills of seduction that no one could resist? He’d once thought he understood the opposite sex, and himself, yet he found himself thinking again that he was unprepared to deal with Julia and her hope to win Puny Peter.

  A tide of possessiveness crashed into him, whipping him asunder. She is mine. Mine! I will not share.

  He would be the man who unleashed Julia’s full passion, who showed her just how delightful all pleasures of the flesh could be. He would be the one to savor her reactions.

  Not Puny Peter.

  He wanted her, enjoyed her every nuance, and liked that he didn’t have to hold back with her. He appreciated her and knew the treasure he held. Would Peter?

  No! Because Peter wasn’t good enough for her. Otherwise, he would have come after Julia long before now.

  Just how was Tristan going to win this stubborn, completely illogical woman?

  However necessary.

  He relaxed into the hardwood seat, a smile curving his lips. He’d learned through experience that Julia responded more favorably to demonstrative measures. So. He needed to demonstrate sensual indulgence.

  Anticipation made his fingers itch, a thousand possibilities racing through his mind. By Elliea, he would try them all.

  * * *

  JULIA TRIED TO CONCENTRATE on her customer. She really did. But her attention continually strayed toward Tristan, all sleek muscle and masculine strength. With his features relaxed, his mouth curved in a half smile, he looked so serene, almost boyish, and beguilingly innocent. Nothing like the sensual master she knew him to be.

  He sat at the register, playing games on her cell phone, just as she’d taught him.

  A woman could become addicted to his intensity. His skill. He knew just where to kiss, suck and lick; knew just where to touch, both lightly and more forcefully, to bring optimum pleasure. She tried to hide her now-pebbled nipples behind a shelf of dog figurines. Resisting him was proving more and more difficult.

  Going on a date with Peter was still her first priority. But…her wanton side—a side she was only now discovering—demanded she give in just once and experience the passion Tristan stirred inside her.

  That side of her must be ignored, right? Right. What could she have with him besides momentary passion? Nothing but a lifetime of insecurity.

  “Oh, that is marvelous.” A female voice broke into her thoughts.

  Julia blinked into focus. Mrs. Danberry stood a few feet away, holding the little girl with one hand, and the corncob pipe in the other.

  “I’m so glad you like it,” Julia said. “I thought of you the moment I saw it.”

  “Oh, no, dear. Not the pipe. The man.” Mrs. Danberry motioned to Tristan with a tilt of her chin. “Marvelous specimen, really. He’s grade-A sirloin. Not at all like my Weston. No, Weston is more like tofu. A cheap imitation. I like the corncob pipe, too, of course. It’s lovely.” The toddler tugged on her hand. “Stand by me, Shonna, and don’t touch a single thing. Shonna’s my granddaughter, you know,” she told Julia. “The dear angel is the light of my life.”

  “I can see why,” Julia replied. “She’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” Mrs. Danberry turned her attention to the pipe. “Now. I must have this for my collection.”

  Julia smiled and gazed down at the little girl who shyly shuffled her feet. “May Shonna have a lollipop?”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” came the distracted reply.

  Kneeling down, Julia said in her gentlest voice, “Hello, there. I love your dress. It’s very pretty.”

  Shonna’s big blue eyes widened, and she shifted from one flowery shoe to the other.

  “Would you like a lollipop? I have chocolate and strawberry, cotton candy and tropical punch.”

  The little girl stuck two fingers in her mouth and nodded.

  “You can pick any flavor you want.” Julia clasped her small, delicate hand and led her to the register, where she kept a glass canister full of sweets.

  Shonna scrutinized every piece, and soon strands of midnight hair fell across her cheeks. With her coloring, she could’ve easily passed for Tristan’s child.

  For the space of time unmeasured, Julia forgot to draw in a breath. What would it be like to have Tristan’s baby? To create a family with him? Her mind readily supplied the answer to both questions: heavenly. A slight moan grew in her throat as her mind threw out other questions: What kind of woman could win his heart? Would falling for Tristan be so bad?

  Her stomach performed a slow flip as she pitted the joys of it against the ramifications. Bad? Oh, no. That word didn’t come close to describing such an occurrence. Wonderful and terrible? Close. Disastrous? Without a doubt. A relationship with him was doomed to fail and leave a trail of heartache—her heartache—in its wake.

  “I have to tinkle, Grandma,” Shonna suddenly shouted, the sheer power of her lungs resounding from floor to ceiling.

  Mrs. Danberry sent a beseeching look to Julia. “May she use your restroom, dear?”

  “I’m so, so sorry, but it’s still broken.” She was going to pulverize her landlord, the miserly jerk. There wasn’t time for Tristan to play handyman—if he even knew what tools to use. He probably didn’t, Arcadian knowledge being so “advanced” and all. “There’s one next door.”

  “Oh, gracious. Well, we’d best hurry. Shonna’s just out of diapers, you know.” Mrs. Danberry paid for the pipe and hustled her granddaughter toward the door. “I’ll see you soon, dear,” she said, waving. “Give that sexy man of yours a naughty kiss for me.” With a wink, she disappeared past the door, and Julia once again found herself alone with Tristan.

  Just like that, her body perked up with a new surge of arousal. Time to finish her lessons. Before her resolve raced past the borders of no return, she squared her shoulders and marched to Tristan’s chair.

  He sat upright, his back straight, but his eyes were closed.

  “Tristan,” she said.

  Slowly his eyelids opened. “Aye,” he said, his voice scratchy. Sexy.

  Do not sink in
to the violet depths of his gaze. “I’m ready to learn how to flirt. Right here, right now.” The words tumbled from her mouth. “Will you please teach me?”

  “Aye, I will teach you to play the wanton,” he said before muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “You are almost making this too easy, my sweet.”

  Too easy for what? “Are you ready to begin?” Best to get this over with as soon as possible. Oh, please. Who are you trying to fool? Anticipation hummed just below the surface of her skin. Anticipation for his attention, his kiss, his touch…and no other.

  He regarded her intently, as if seeing her on a whole new level. As if seeing more of her than any other person had in…ever. “You wish to begin here? Now?”

  “Now,” she confirmed and nodded.

  He rose, his face blanking of all emotion, lending him an aura of mystery and resolution. He leaned one hip against the counter. The white T-shirt he wore hugged his biceps, outlining every ridge of muscle, and his bleached jeans rode low on his waist, the top button unsnapped. His gaze traveled the length of her.

  “For what I have in mind, you’ll need a gown,” he said.

  A wind of unease blew through her thoughts. “Why? What’s so important about a gown?”

  “I will not tell you. I’ll only show you.”

  Fine! “I have a skirt in back.” She always kept a spare set of clothing here in case of an emergency. “How about I change after our lesson, but before we go home?”

  His brows winged in challenge. “As I am in charge during a lesson, you will do as I say, and I say you will change.”

  Considering she’d issued a few orders of her own, she kind of owed him. “Fine.” She threw her hands in the air. “I’ll meet you in my office once I’m properly dressed.” She air quoted the word “properly.”

  “Do you desire my aid at any point, simply call out, and I’ll come running.”

  “Yeah, sure,” she said, her tone dry. She strode into the storage room, Tristan on her heels, and shut the door in his face, the last thing she saw his wicked grin. Her heart drummed erratically as she removed her pants. Even though she suspected foul play on Tristan’s part, she wiggled into a plain brown ankle-length skirt.

  He was not in her office when she emerged. He was right where she’d left him.

  “You better not try anything funny,” she told him as she led him to the office and dimmed the lights. “This isn’t a game, after all. Flirting is serious business.”

  Looking completely at ease, he reclined in the swivel chair behind the desk. “Trust me, draga. I take my role as educator seriously.”

  “Then you should know I learn best through oral instruction, not demonstration.”

  “Good to know. I very much like your idea of oral training.” Two fingers stroked the smooth skin of his jaw, his expression pensive. “How shall we go about this?”

  She marched closer, saying, “We—”

  “Uh-uh-uh, Julia.” He leaned forward, clasped her by the hips and lifted her onto the desk directly in front of him. Shadows veiled his features but for a single bar of lamplight that illuminated his eyes. “As I am the teacher, the answer is mine to decide.”

  She gave him a sarcastic military-style salute in an effort to hide her sudden bout of tremors. “Yes, sir.”

  That earned her a frown. “I will see you walk now.”

  “That’s it?” Disappointment and frustration laced her tone. “That’s how you’re going to teach me to flirt? By watching me walk…something you’ve seen me do many times already?”

  “Aye. There are many ways to flirt and entice a man, and some of those ways require no words.”

  “Oh.” In a strange sort of way, that made sense. “But I just sat down.”

  He clasped her hand and tugged, urging her to her feet. “Now you are standing.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Very well, then.” Concentrating on every step, she moved in front of the desk and walked in a straight line. Back and forth. Once. Twice. A third time. By the time she finished, he’d moved closer, sitting on the edge of the desk, shaking his head.

  “I am not exactly sure if you were walking or marching to the beat of a war drum. Try again. Slower this time, swaying your hips with every forward motion.”

  Okay. That was nice, constructive feedback. He was taking this seriously. “All right.” Heeding his instructions, she glided by him, exaggerating and swaying for effect. Only, the heel of one shoe bumped the toe of the other, and Julia pitched forward, face first, landing in a heap on the floor.

  Her ankles didn’t survive. Neither did her pride.

  Tristan uttered a long-suffering sigh, yet his eyes sparkled with mirth. “Mayhap we will work on your walk later.”

  Mortified, she lumbered to her feet and cursed her throbbing ankles. “I may never walk again.”

  “Do not be embarrassed. With some more training, we can turn your walk into a seductive mating call no man can resist.”

  Excitement bloomed. “Really?”

  * * *

  “REALLY.” TRISTAN did his best to hide his amusement. Except for the tumble, Julia had strolled like a born seductress. However, he planned to make this lesson last for days, weeks, months if necessary, so he could not, would not tell her of her feminine allure. “For now, we will allow your ankles and knees time to heal.”

  “Smart.”

  He stood and sauntered to her. Once again he clasped her by the waist and lifted, carrying her to the desk.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped, her feet dangling a good three feet from the floor.

  He didn’t offer her an explanation. He simply eased her buttocks atop the edge of the desk, exactly where he’d previously leaned. Stacks of papers rained onto the carpet.

  “Ready for your demonstration?” He slipped her skirt over her knees, past her thighs, revealing the creamy length of her legs, then gave her a once-over. Stopping his smile proved impossible. “Much better.”

  “For you, maybe. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so helpless or vulnerable,” she muttered.

  Or aroused?

  “Shouldn’t I take notes or something?” she asked.

  “Nay. You will remember everything I teach you.” I will make sure of it.

  “Ok—”

  Lightning quick, he covered her mouth with his hand. “No speaking unless you have first gained my permission. Understand?” He loved giving this strong, capable woman orders.

  “Fine,” came her muffled reply, but she could not mask the tinge of excitement.

  He thought she might like receiving his orders. “We will begin anew.” With a satisfied nod, he removed his palm. “Flutter your lashes for me.”

  “Flutter my lashes? Women don’t actually do that anymore, do they?”

  He exaggerated an exasperated sigh. “As I told you before, there is more to enticement than mere words. You must use every part of your body. Now flutter.”

  She did as instructed.

  He shook his head and tried not to chuckle. “Enough games, draga. How can I teach you if you refuse to cooperate?”

  She sputtered, “I’m not playing. That’s the best danged fluttering I can do.”

  “Hmm.” He stroked his jaw, as if racking his brain for a solution to her problem. “We have much to do, then.”

  She groaned and nibbled her bottom lip. “How long will this take exactly?”

  “Many cycles, mayhap,” he said. “Or even an entire season.”

  “Many months, perhaps even an entire year, of intense flirting practice with you?” she squeaked.

  * * *

  CAN MY BODY systems handle so much masculine goodness? Julia wondered. No!

  “You really think it’ll take that long?” she asked, breathless.

  “Oh, aye. Mayhap even longer.”

  Aye? He’d said aye? Crap! She’d just had to work harder to get everything right.

  So, Julia spent the next hour—hour!—diligently practicing her eyelash flutter. It would hav
e been an innocent enough lesson if Tristan had kept his fingers off her thighs. But nooo. He continued to trace his fingertips up and down, up and down, driving her mad.

  And yet, every time a customer entered, she had to hop to the floor, don a respectable business persona—which meant smoothing her skirt from her waist and dousing the lust in her eyes, both of which only managed to increase her anticipation for the lesson’s continuance—and she missed the madness. She missed Tristan.

  The instant they were alone again, she jumped right back on the table, eager to pick up where they’d left off. Roaming hands and all.

  Finally he deemed her flutter “acceptable” and moved on to phase two. Or three? Four? Whatever! “Next, we’ll work on your come-hither smile.”

  “Excellent.” A seductive smile was something every woman needed in her man-hunting arsenal. How could she attract someone—anyone, even Peter—if she couldn’t grin properly? “What should I do?”

  “You must smile, of course.”

  Oookay. How helpful. “How’s this?” The corners of her mouth lifted wide.

  “No, no, no. Lips closed.” With gentle fingers, he manually fit her lips into a half grin. The heat of his fingertips sent currents of need pulsing along her nerve endings. “Much better. Now, using only your facial expression, make me believe you wish to lick my entire body.”

  Uh, that shouldn’t be a problem since she wanted to lick his entire body.

  Instead of boosting Tristan’s ego, she muttered, “Give me a minute prepare myself.” She closed her eyes and pictured Tristan naked covering silk sheets. Mmm. He had hot, moist skin bathed by hazy candlelight. Soft, lyrical music played in the background. In her mind, she inched her body over his, her tongue and teeth raking his skin.

  * * *

  TRISTAN WATCHED Julia’s eyes darken with dreams, the edge of her mouth softening with desire. A hard lump formed in the back of his throat, and he gulped. “That is enough preparation.” His voice emerged hoarse, cracked. When she didn’t alter her expression, he commanded, “Blink, curse you. Blink.”

  At last Julia blinked and the cloud of desire surrounding her cleared, and he breathed a sigh of relief. And maybe a bit of disappointment.