Prince of Forever

by Gena Showalter

  “Are you hungry?” she asked, giving him a quick glance from behind the wheel of her vehicle, completely oblivious to the turmoil raging inside him.

  “Aye.” He was hungry for her, for her naked body beneath his, writhing against him, seeking ultimate pleasure. “Aye, I am hungry.”

  “I hope you like hamburgers,” she said. “We can grab drive-thru, so we won’t have to cook.”

  He merely grunted. She eased into the parking lot of a small red-and-yellow building, then drove around to the side and spoke into a square mouthpiece. Three minutes later, they were speeding down the road again. Her house soon came into view, and she pulled into her driveway.

  A red car, tinier and sleeker than Julia’s, was parked at the curb. He scanned the property and found a woman sitting on the porch, looking as fresh and pretty as a bouquet of spring flowers. She possessed dark brown hair that hung down her back in silky waves. He couldn’t make out the color of her eyes, yet her facial features vaguely resembled Julia. Same cheekbones. Same elegantly sloped nose.

  The second her car ceased moving, Julia vaulted out and raced toward the porch with open arms. “Faith!”

  Tristan eased out of the vehicle, taking in the scene before him. Julia exuberantly embraced the tall, slim woman. The newcomer wore a button-down chemise and the same type of blue slacks that he himself now sported. The two women laughed, talked and hugged at once.

  “I’ve tried to reach you for days,” this Faith said to Julia. “I thought you’d been abducted by aliens or something.”

  “You have no idea how close to the truth you are.” Julia shot him a wry glance, but the girl didn’t notice him yet.

  “I also called your store, but couldn’t get through there, either.” Concern darkened Faith’s features as she gripped Julia’s hands. “What’s going on? Tell me. Please!”

  “Oh, nothing major, I promise.” She cut him another glance. “My landlines are out, and I loaned my cell to someone else, who ran down the battery playing games.”

  “Then get a new one, already. I never want to worry like that again. You’re a very consistent person. If you’re not at home, you’re at work. And when you’re not at work, you’re…” She tilted her chin, thinking. “Well, you’re always at work. When I couldn’t—” Her eyes connected with Tristan’s at last. “Oh, my,” she breathed. “Oh, my, my, my.”

  If he hadn’t been so aware of Julia, he would have missed the slight tensing of her body. What was this? A moment of anger?

  He grinned. No, a moment of jealousy. He studied her, watching intently, just to be sure. Delight uncoiled inside him. Oh, aye. The little temptress was indeed jealous. She fairly seethed with it. For the first time since she had announced her intention to practice her wiles on Puny Peter, he entertained a flicker of satisfaction. He even managed a smile.

  Faith batted her lashes at him. “Meow. I mean, hello.”

  “Stop that, Faithie,” Julia admonished.

  The woman’s gaze never strayed from him. “Stop what? Drooling?”

  “Yes! And stop picturing him naked. It’s rude.”

  “I wasn’t picturing him naked.” She smiled sheepishly. “Not anymore, at least.”

  Tristan choked back a laugh.

  Julia thinned her lips. “Faith, I’d like you to meet Tristan. Tristan, this is my sister, Faith Anderson.”

  The woman extended her hand, and he lifted her delicate palm to his lips, just as he’d seen a man do on Julia’s talking box. “A pleasure to meet you.”

  “I assure you, the pleasure is mine.” Faith’s large eyes, a mix of green and blue, softened around the edges, giving her face a pixie quality. “Jules didn’t mention you the last time we spoke.”

  “Tristan and I have only known each other a short time,” Julia answered for him.

  “Oh? Do tell.” Faith jumped up and clapped. “How did you meet?”

  “Long story, and it doesn’t matter. We’re just friends,” Julia said.

  At that, Tristan tensed. He was tired of Julia calling him her “friend” and her “brother” when they were so much more. Scowling, he threw a possessive arm around her shoulders and tugged her close. He didn’t speak, letting Faith draw her own conclusion instead.

  Faith did. She arched two thin brows and eyed Julia. “Just friends, huh?”

  Julia tried to wriggle away. He merely tightened his hold, liking the curve of her waist against him. But the tighter he held her, the more she squirmed, and a surge of heat shot straight to his groin. He hardened, every point of contact reminding him of how they’d ended things today. Unsatisfied. And he wanted satisfaction.

  “Where are you staying, Tristan?” Faith asked, casting Julia a sly glance.

  “I live here with Julia,” he answered.

  His lovely guan ren sucked in a great gulp of air. “We have separate rooms.”

  Just to irritate her, he added smugly, “But we sometimes share a bed.” He faced her, giving her a smile that clearly said, Deny that.

  Frowning, Faith anchored her hands to her hips. “Is he serious? You’re living with a man, and you don’t think to call me? To invite me over so I can meet him?”

  “Yes, we’re living together, but—” Julia shook her head and sliced a hand through the air. “Oh, never mind. There’s no way to explain.” Tossing him a backward glare, she stepped from his reach. With clipped, jerky motions, she unlocked the door and ushered her sister inside. “I’m inviting you over for supper right now. Tristan ordered eight double bacon cheeseburgers for himself. Since I don’t want him to spontaneously explode, I’m going to make him be a good boy and share with you.”

  By Elliea, he was beyond famished, almost near death. For lunch, Julia had fed him a tiny piece of fish. He, who had once consumed an entire Daerabar on his own. Now he was in desperate need of sustenance. For Julia, he grumbled, “Aye. I will share.”

  “Wonderful.” Faith smiled, revealing two sweetly shaped dimples. “I’d be happy to stay for supper, then. I’ve missed you, Jules, and it’s obvious we need to talk more.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.” Relaxing slightly, Julia removed the bag from his hands, emptied the contents on the table and dispersed the food until everyone held what they wanted. “So what have you been up to lately, Faithie? Last I heard you were traveling through a jungle.”

  Faith immediately launched into a tale about her latest expedition, a six-week journey through South Am-erica. Tristan only half listened. As he devoured the small slabs of meat and bread that did not settle well in his stomach, his attention focused on Julia.

  He watched her eat, watched her mouth work slowly, sensually. Watched her tongue slide over the lushness of her lips, lifting crumbs. The words she’d spoken earlier played in his mind over and over, taunting him.

  Sometimes, when I look at you, my hands ache to move up your chest, to feel your heart beating beneath my palms.

  Had she thought of him when she’d spoken, or had she thought of Puny Peter?

  Julia chose that moment to glance up, their gazes colliding. Blood coursed through his veins like a newly awakened river, his hunger for food forgotten. His jaw tightened right along with the rest of him. By the sudden flare of passion in the luscious depths of her eyes, he knew beyond a doubt that she’d meant the words for him. Not Peter. The knowledge sent more white-hot desire rocking through him. Desire and undiluted aggression; he felt more powerful than if he’d slain one thousand enemies.

  “Hell-oo,” Faith sang. “Someone else is in the room, you know.”

  With much regret, he tore his gaze from the source of his arousal.

  Julia blinked rapidly, then shook her head. Her cheeks bloomed bright with color as she once again faced her sister. “Uh, yeah, you were saying, sis?”

  A smile played at the corners of Faith’s lips. “I doubt you’re interested in a lost city. No, it’s okay,” she said when Julia protested. “I’d rather hear about you and Tristan, anyway. Where did you meet?”

  �
��At a flea market,” Julia supplied. “We started talking, discovered we had a lot in common and became friends.” The paper covering her food crackled as she folded back the corners. “That’s the whole story. There’s nothing more to share. You get it.”

  “I’m sure there is plenty more.” Amused, Faith regarded Tristan. “Do you collect antiques?”

  “Nay. Julia bought my box.”

  “Ah, so you’re a seller.”

  “Nay, I am a—”

  “French fry, anyone?” Julia asked, cutting him off.

  Her panicked expression pleaded with him to remain silent. Tristan’s stomach clenched. He did not like that she begged him, even silently. Did she fear her sister would steal his box if she knew the truth? Whatever her reasons, he pressed his lips tightly shut and said nothing more on the subject. He would trust her judgment.

  “Jules, you’re acting weird,” Faith said pointedly. “No offense, but I’ve never seen you this flustered. What’s going on? What am I missing?”

  “Nothing.” Eyes wide, Julia stuffed her mouth full of food.

  Faith glanced between Tristan and Julia once, twice. “You’re hiding something, Jules. I can tell. You can’t even look at me without trembling.”

  Julia swallowed and said, “I’m not in any kind of trouble, if that’s what you’re thinking. I promise.”

  “Oh, really.” Disbelief echoed in every syllable Faith uttered. “Well, something is going on here, and I want to know what it is.”

  “Tristan has been taking care of me, that’s all. I’ve just been…sick.”

  “Are you okay?” Faith demanded, instantly concerned.

  “Oh, yeah. I’m fine,” Julia rushed to assure her. “There’s no need for you to worry.”

  “I can’t help it. You’re my sister, and I—crap.” Faith clasped her hands over her mouth, practically radiating giddy excitement. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you? That’s why you’ve been sick.”

  Julia began to choke, a piece of burger lodged in her throat.

  Tristan pounded her on the back, dislodging the morsel. “Cease your questions, woman,” he ordered. “You are upsetting Julia.”

  “I can’t believe this.” Disregarding Tristan’s command, Faith continued on with a jubilant smile. “You’re having a baby. Why didn’t you tell me? Oh, this is wonderful. I’m going to be an aunt. When is the baby due? Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

  Tristan pounded his fist against the table. “Enough!” Both women jumped at the harshness of his tone, but he had no regrets. He’d stopped the woman’s blathering. “Such questions are ridiculous. There is no child.”

  “That’s right,” Julia said, flushed. “As I mentioned, Tristan and I are merely friends. I’m not pregnant, but I am dating my next-door neighbor, Peter. I mean, I think I’ll be going on a date with him soon. He’s come close to asking me out twice.”

  Faith blinked, confused. “But I thought you were living with Tristan. You guys are sleeping in the same bed.”

  “I am and we are.” Julia scrubbed a hand down her face. “As friends.”

  Tristan ran his tongue over his teeth.

  “I see,” Faith said, her eyes glazed with disappointment, and it was clear she didn’t “see” anything. “You two seem perfect for each other, that’s all.”

  Julia’s sibling was a woman of great wisdom, Tristan decided.

  A calculated gleam lit Faith’s eyes and she said, “Why don’t you ask Peter to dinner on Saturday? That way, Tristan and I can double with you. Since he’s just your friend and all, you won’t mind if I put the moves on him.”

  “Oh, aye.” Tristan nodded. “This is an event I care not to miss.”

  Julia shook her head emphatically. “No, I—”

  “I’m so glad everyone’s in agreement.” Effectively ending the conversation, Faith pushed to her feet. “Well, it’s time for me to head home. I need my beauty sleep, you know. See you Saturday, Jules. Will you walk me out, Tristan?”

  He didn’t hesitate. She might tell him more about Julia. “It would be my pleasure.”

  “It would be your pleasure?” Julia demanded, a hint of dismay in her tone. “But, Tristan. I’ll be here alone. Alone and unprotected.”

  The jealousy had returned, and he loved it. “If anyone attempts to hurt you, simply use your karate,” told her, tossing the words over his shoulder as he strode out the front door behind Faith. He grinned; he just couldn’t help it. What a sweet, sweet day this had become.

  “Fine,” she called right back. “I’ll just be in here calling Peter, asking him on that double date of ours.”

  “Are you sure you can get the words out?” he snapped, and this time, she offered no response.

  Just like that, his mood darkened.

  Faith stopped midway to her car and spun to face him, hands on hips. “I think I’ve figured out what’s going on. It’s obvious Jules likes you. My guess is she doesn’t think she’s good enough for you. You don’t think that, do you?”

  “Nay. I want her.” Despite everything. Or maybe because of it.

  “Good.” She relaxed her soldier-like stance. “She’s a beautiful, intelligent woman, but I’ve never been able to convince her of that fact. She’s stubborn, you know, and has always avoided romance. Well, not always.”

  “There is a story here. You will explain.”

  Faith raised a brow at his commanding tone. “It’s not my place to tell you. Ask Julia about her first date, and if she tells you…” She shrugged. “The sparks you two generate almost set me on fire. Whoever this Peter guy is, he’s not the man for my sister.”

  “You,” Tristan told her, giving her hand another kiss, “are brilliant.”

  She beamed at him. “On Saturday, I’ll handle Peter. You just make sure Julia has the best night of her life. She deserves it.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Always Wear Clothing That Is Pleasing

  To Your Mistress—Even If She Prefers

  No Clothes

  THE REST OF THE week passed without incident. Tristan and Julia did not flirt. They worked, and they ate together. They even slept in the same bed, but they didn’t touch…and she hated every moment.

  Saturday morning dawned cold but beautiful. An early spring wind danced through the air and birds chirped merrily in the trees. Eager blossoms valiantly attempted to bud.

  Inside Julia’s home, candles glowed with vanilla-scented flames. Freshly polished counters gleamed brightly in the kitchen. Warm, inviting air cloaked every room like an old, comforting blanket.

  Julia was ready to vomit. Coffee hadn’t helped. Nothing had.

  Yesterday she’d finally worked up the courage to invite Peter to their double date. At first, he said no. So she had offered to pay. Still he’d refused. Only the threat of her “brother’s” fury had swayed him to make an appearance.

  The hint of reluctance in his voice when he finally said yes—a strange squeak that clearly stated he did not wish to dine with her—had pounded against her pride, threatening to shatter it.

  Was she that undesirable that she had to threaten a man in order to get him to agree to eat with her?

  “What are you going to wear?” her sister asked, cheerful. Faith had arrived only minutes ago to help her prepare for the “big day.”

  “I don’t know,” she answered, “but I can’t wear anything until I find my black shoes.” Lips compressed into a thin line, she frantically searched through a sea of makeup on the counter, then a pile of clothes on the floor. Right now, she was wearing only her new matching bra and panties made of opalescent material that picked up different hues of light. The color reminded her of Tristan’s eyes. “Have you seen my black shoes? I’ve looked everywhere. They have to be here.”

  “Calm down, calm down.” Faith’s reassuring tone did nothing to pierce Julia’s shell of panic. “I’ll find them.”

  “He’s supposed to be here in one hour and two minutes, and I can’t find my shoes! I’m not dressed
, and my hair looks like crap. Calm down? I don’t think so!”

  Faith clasped her by the shoulders, forcing her to cease her frenzied search. “This is a date, Jules, not an execution. Take a deep breath. That’s it. Now, slowly release every molecule of air. Good girl.”

  “What am I doing?” Julia rubbed at her temples, trying to ward off the oncoming ache. “Dating is stupid. Men are stupid. I shouldn’t be doing this. Why am I doing this?”

  “Because you hope to have a family of your own.”

  The enormity of the situation hit her all at once. Eyes wide, Julia sprinted to the bathroom, both hands covering her mouth. At the toilet, she hunched over and emptied the contents of her stomach. Faith stood behind her in the next instant, holding her hair out of the way.

  Why was she putting herself through this? And what roused her nervousness more? The thought of making a fool of herself in front of Peter…or Tristan?

  Tristan. Definitely Tristan.

  Julia hated the fact that he and Faith were tagging along. The lucky couple would get to witness every faux pas she committed. So easily she pictured herself spilling vegetable soup down her dress, getting spinach stuck between her teeth and toilet paper attaching itself to her shoe. Not her black shoes, though, because she didn’t know where the heck they were.

  She rubbed her temple. Even though Tristan had practice-flirted with her, she still wasn’t sure she knew what to do or say to a guy. All morning her old insecurities had beat against her resolve, and now they fought for complete domination. She was going to make a fool of herself; she just knew it. But…to her immense surprise, the thought of being a fool didn’t bother her as much as the thought of Faith and Tristan becoming romantically involved. They were both so beautiful, so perfect together, and on this stupid, stupid, stupid double date, they might just realize that fact.

  Wasn’t that how every romantic comedy ever made had ended?

  Julia hated the jealousy she felt for her older, gorgeously put-together sister, a woman who’d helped raise her. Where Tristan was concerned, however, she had no control over her emotions.

  Drained of confidence and strength, she collapsed against the cool tile at her feet. She clutched her knees to her stomach and blinked up at Faith. “I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m not even sure I like Puny Peter,” she admitted.