by Autumn Dawn
Flustered, Andrea grasped the forgotten ring. “Mathin tricked me into letting him buy it for me,” she muttered, feeling an explanation was needed. The event seemed so long ago, and the explanation lame. Why was she still wearing it?
It was not a question she wanted answered.
"Hm. He has good taste,” was all Jasmine said, but her expression was speculative.
She left Andrea alone in the bathing chamber to freshen up while she went to check on dinner.
Andrea washed her face and hands at the marble sink, welcoming the soothing warmth of the water. She didn't know how much time she had, but surely she could wash her hair? It smelled like horse, and since she had to change her hair-dusted pants it only made sense. Later, she would see about a long soak if she was able. Her backside wasn't used to bouncing behind a saddle and it felt a little raw.
The ordinary actions soothed her troubled mind a little, bringing some peace. She still wasn't sure what to do about her grandma. Had it not been for her she'd have been planning to escape at the first opportunity. As it was she was confused. What was she supposed to do with the woman when she wanted to stay, had arranged the whole thing?
Now that she was calmer, the whole brainwashing thing sounded ridiculous, especially as she recalled her grandmother's rabid desire to see her settled. She rolled her eyes. Who would have thought she'd have gone this far to do it? The amazing thing was that she'd found someone to help carry out her crazy plan.
Yeah, well, I don't have to cooperate, she promised herself as she washed and rinsed her hair. Jasmine's relaxed attitude and confidences had gone a long way to firming her resolve. Mathin didn't have a chance with her. As for her grandmother....
One thing at a time.
The first thing she saw when she emerged from the bathing chamber was a miniature giraffe the size of a large dog. Curled up on the woven rug on the side of the bed that had been hidden when she'd walked in, the small creature raised its head to study her with lazy interest. Its black-and white fur looked so soft!
Enchanted, Andrea sank to her knees, holding out her hand. “Here, little fella,” she said softly, holding out her hand. The giraffe stared at her a moment from across the room, then closed its eyes and went back to sleep.
Disappointed, but wary of disturbing the alien creature, she let her hand fall.
"You give up too quickly,” chided a familiar, deep voice.
Startled, she jumped up and scowled at Mathin. “What do you want?” No longer did she feel perfectly at ease around him. Even so, her heart felt a dangerous yearning. It was so easy to vilify him when he wasn't around, but now ... Why did he have to be so good-looking?
It didn't help that he'd changed into what seemed to be the standard military uniform. Unfortunately for her peace of mind the black leather vest and silky dark pants looked entirely different when not on a Haunt. It was very hard not to let her eyes linger on his hair dusted chest or the corded muscles of his arms. The only color about him was the scarlet sash at his waist and the red Celtic knot on the vest over his heart. Belted at his waist were the weapons he rarely seemed to be without. They looked much more natural with his native garb.
His brow went up at her display of temper. Apparently it had been too much to hope that time would mellow her. “I thought you might need these.” He extended a small pouch to her, thinking how odd it was that, even while wearing the nose-filter, every time he looked at her his stomach did a little flip.
She took it warily. Inside were a number of toiletries. A round container full of shaker holes and equipped with a powder puff was the first thing on top. The clear powder inside sparkled on the surface of the puff.
"Deodorant powder,” he explained in response to her puzzled expression. “The toothpaste and brush you know. The tube full of amber beads is soap for your body and hair. In the silver pot is lotion, in the bronze, repellent."
"Repellent?” She studied the small pot askance. Only a man would consider bug repellent an essential toiletry. However, it was the final item in the bag that defied her imagination. It looked something like an elongated, miniature plunger with a short rubber handle.
He looked aside, a trace of color bronzing his cheeks. The last he'd purchased at great personal discomfort, remembering Jasmine's bitter complaints about the lack of feminine necessities during their trek through the swamp. “Jasmine can explain its use to you."
She stared at him a moment, unsure what to think, then replaced the plunger in its drawstring pouch. There was an awkward moment of silence. “Thank you,” she finally told him, though it was the last thing she wished to say. Unfortunately, attacking him as she wished to do would accomplish nothing, as he'd proven in the forest. Somehow she doubted that verbal attacks would prove more satisfying.
Nor could she ask him the questions that burned in her mind. They were far too personal, too daring for her present mood. Would he even admit to her why he wanted her? Or was that just an assumption on Jasmine's part? The silence stretched, grew awkward.
Mathin felt just as uneasy. It was his habit to speak his mind, to pursue his interests until he'd achieved them. How was he supposed to balance that facet of his personality while remaining sensitive to her present needs? He couldn't simply trample her as he would an enemy and expect her to still welcome him to her bed.
"Dinner is ready,” he finally said. He gestured for her to precede him. Jasmine had told him she'd already given Andrea some clothes to get her by for now, sparing him the need to discuss it yet. Tomorrow would be soon enough to speak with her about such things.
He did not think she would relish the discussion.
* * * *
Dinner was extremely difficult for her. Not only was her grandmother there, but she was determined to mask Andrea's moodiness with chatter. The only bright spot was when Mathin displayed a rare sensitivity and claimed the elder woman for his blessing partner. Or it should have been a bright spot. For some reason she couldn't name Andrea wasn't happy at being passed over, even though she didn't think she could stand his touch just then. It was hard enough when he took the seat next to her.
It was a shame the exhausted children had been put down for a nap. They would have made a welcome distraction, she thought regretfully, glancing at the empty highchairs and then at the living area across the room. Only a natural screen of potted plants separated the two areas, giving the suite a refreshing openness.
"Isn't this a lovely place setting?” her grandmother asked, smiling as she handed her wineglass to Mathin for a refill. She sighed happily as she looked around at the shining crystal and elegant porcelain. “I'll have to buy you some for a wedding gift."
Andrea tensed, her hands tightening on her silver chopsticks. It was not the first “hint” her grandmother had dropped that evening. Couldn't she see what her pushing was doing to Andrea's nerves?
"Thank you,” Jasmine said with a quick glance at Andrea's stiff posture. “I've always loved this pattern, but I'm so afraid the boys will destroy it. Already they've managed to...."
No longer listening, Andrea sullenly pushed the food around on her plate. Although the dinner was excellent she simply couldn't eat more than a few bites. Later she would thank Jasmine for distracting her grandmother. This evening all she wanted to do was flee.
"I have a better room for your use this evening,” Mathin said quietly, taking advantage of her grandmother's distraction. The elder woman's comments had him on edge, and he was the willing party! One glance at Andrea's face was enough to see she was close to losing control. Seeking to distract her, he continued, “It's less ... white. It also has a kitchen for you to work in. You'll recognize many of the staples, and I'll be happy to tell you about the unfamiliar ones.” When she did nothing more than glance at him out of the corner of her eye, he added quietly, “There's a lock on the door. No one will disturb you."
Still she said nothing, but the set of her shoulders relaxed.
It was an exquisite relief to withdraw for the ev
ening. She couldn't help slumping just a little as Mathin closed the door behind them and led her out into the quiet hall. She brushed the bangs wearily out of her eyes, not surprised to find her hand shook. This had to have been one of the most difficult days of her life.
Mathin paused outside a door a little way down the hall and studied her. The Haunt guards hung back a discreet distance. “You don't feel well."
She stared at him. How did always know how she felt? Averting her eyes from the concern in his expression, she mumbled, “I'm just tired.” Now was not the time to soften toward him.
A large hand gently cupped her face, making her look at him. “I'm concerned about you,” he said softly, his fathomless black eyes mirroring his voice. “Let me send a medic to you.” When she shook her head he insisted, “At least a woman to stay with you. I know you'd like to be alone right now, but—"
"Please!” She sighed tiredly, refusing his concern. “I just need to sleep it off, ok? I'll be fine,” she added when he seemed unconvinced.
Reluctantly, he backed off. After all, she knew more about her condition than he did. “Then here.” He handed her a small black communicator. “It's keyed to my frequency. If you need anything at all, I want you to call me.” His hand closed over hers as she reluctantly took it, willing her to feel his sincerity.
It was very difficult to leave.
Night had fallen during dinner and moonlight flooded through the clear glass wall in her room. Andrea shut the door behind her, awed by the sight of not one but three moons in the sky. With such light in the room it only took a moment to make her way through the shadowy furniture and past the kitchen island to take in the view.
An ocean swelled and crashed far below, bordered by the redwood forest. Even though she couldn't hear the water it was easy enough to imagine the sound of shattering waves. She pressed her palm against the cool glass, thinking it would be easy to spend hours just watching the ocean's dance. What kind of creatures lived in that alien sea?
"Lights,” she called, mimicking what she'd heard Jasmine do earlier. Instantly the room was illuminated, revealing furniture in a restful shade of forest green. Matching tapestry pillows of gold and green invited one to sit and relax before the granite fireplace, but she was not in the mood. Instead, she sought out the bedroom, thinking to take a quick bath before going to sleep.
Her first sight of the king-sized bed brought her up short, leaving her breathless with wonder. Unless she was gravely mistaken, she'd swear that headboard was carved of one giant piece of mother-of-pearl. She ran her hand over the gold and amber paneled coverlet, delighted to discover its velvet texture. Sleeping in this bed would be a delight.
A thought struck her and she glanced at the ceiling, relieved to see a carving of a giant flower instead of a mirror. At least she wouldn't have to stare at herself in the dark. Or worse, scare herself silly at something moving on the ceiling above. Someone had even laid out the nightgown and wrapper Jasmine had sent to her room, as if anticipating her arrival. She fingered the silk, surprised when a scent she didn't remember smelling before arose from the cloth. Musky, with a delicious, heady after note, it immediately brought Mathin's image to mind. Had he perfumed the gown?
Flushed at the thought of such an intimate gesture, she left the bed to seek out the bathing chamber. A drawn-back tapestry to the side of a mother-of pearl handled armoire seemed the most likely place to search. Sure enough, behind it she discovered a romantically lit, stone lined pool. Wondering at the opulence of the room she'd been given, she did as she'd been told to do in Jasmine's bathroom, calling tentatively, “Water?” Instantly it began to flow from the series of miniature waterfalls installed along the wall, quickly filling the pool. Steam curled invitingly off the rising surface.
It didn't take long to locate the stock of towels in the chest in one corner or to choose from the scented vials of oil and soaps available. Shedding her clothes, she took her find to the pool and gingerly stepped in, surprised to find the bottom full of soft sand. How did they clean this thing? Resolved not to worry about it, she settled back against the rim, relaxing fully for the first time that day. Tomorrow was soon enough to deal with her grandmother and Mathin. Perhaps it wouldn't be as difficult as she imagined....
* * * *
She woke to the feel of someone stroking her arm and a far too familiar chill. Through slitted eyes she discovered Mathin, who sat on the mattress and watched her with dark, concerned eyes.
"I grew worried when you wouldn't answer the door.” He gestured to a tall glass on the mother of pearl-topped dresser beside the bed. It was full of a pale, creamy looking liquid and smelled aromatic even from where she lay. “It's not milk, but I think you'll like it."
Reluctant to leave the warmth of the covers, she nevertheless scooted up and accepted the glass from him. The cool beverage inside was every bit as promising as it had smelled. “Thank you,” she said, rather self-conscious at being in such an intimate position with him.
"My pleasure.” Satisfied that she was eating, he half-reclined on the bed, content to wait until she'd finished more than half the contents before speaking. “There are some safety rules we must discuss.” Certain that he had her full attention, he went on, “It's not safe for you to wander around alone, though it will be easier once we've ... later.” He took a breath, unwilling to launch that discussion. It would happen when it happened, and he wouldn't make her grandmother's mistake. “This is normal for women of rank, and though we are protective of our women in general, your security will be tighter than most because of who you are. Because of this you, will have bodyguards at all times. Endeavor to ignore them. They will try to give you all the privacy they can."
He looked down for a moment, his eyes darkening with remembrance. “Jasmine was kidnapped once by someone who wished to exploit her sylph pheromone—"
"Jasmine's a sylph?” Andrea demanded. “No way!” Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I didn't notice anyone drooling over her."
Mathin sighed and reached for patience. “The production of pheromone decreases in proportion to the level of sexual activity a sylph engages in.” His look was bold and heated. “Keilor keeps her well satisfied, I promise you."
A dimple popped into his cheek as she squirmed and looked away. It wasn't difficult to figure out she was every bit as aroused at the suggestion of intimacy as he was. “At the moment your production is so high it's intoxicating.” Fire leapt in his eyes and his tone lowered to a rumbling growl. “The only reason I haven't taken you already is because I've been wearing a nose-filter since shortly after I met you. It almost totally blocks the senses of taste and scent."
Uncomfortable with this line of conversation and the intensity between them, she asked warily, “Are you saying you can't control yourself without it?” The very thought made her break out in a sweat. If he became as hot for her as he'd seemed in the beginning she'd never be able to resist him!
"No, but it is more difficult than you can imagine.” His dark lashes swept down, veiling his eyes. “Though being here like this is almost as powerful.” He caressed her bare arm, sending a shiver of desire through them both.
An involuntary picture of him naked, his long hair flowing over her body, flashed in her mind with startling force. The desire to let him continue was strong. “I hardly know you,” she whispered, voicing her fear.
Slowly he withdrew his hand and rested it on his thigh, his fingers curled into a loose fist. “I know,” he said quietly. For a long moment there was silence. Finally, he stirred. “I'll wait for you in the front room. Jasmine wanted to show you around, and she somehow managed to draft Raziel and me into bringing the children.” It was not the way he would have liked to spend the morning with Andrea, but perhaps it was best this way. Had they been alone he might have reached too far too fast and lost ground in the process. This way might be slower, but possibly better in the end.
After he left, Andrea rose and dressed, looking forward to putting the barrier of others
between them. Her feelings for Mathin disturbed her, and she considered them foolishly unintellectual. The man was a werewolf, for pity's sake! He'd stranded her on an alien planet. What business did she think she had, reacting to him this way? Whatever had happened to her original plan to find a nice, safe, human male?
Half an hour later, as she walked in the flower-scented gardens with Jasmine, she felt just as confused. Watching Mathin and his friend Raziel with the twins wasn't helping
Birds sang in the mixture of exotic and earthly trees, like living jewels of bright color adorning the foliage. Domestic grazing animals—hairy beasts resembling sheep-sized yaks—wandered about, keeping the grass underneath well-groomed. The splendor of it all should have set her at ease, but the prickling of her neck and the occasional sight of one of their four Haunt guards kept her on edge. The only helpful factor was that her grandmother had elected to stay behind; claiming too much sun was bad for her complexion.
"The boys adore them,” Jasmine said with a maternal smile as she watched the four playmates fondly. The men had set the toddlers down and were playing hunt—dashing behind the trees of the orchard and popping out again with scary growls, winning squeals of childish laughter from the little ones. “I can't tell who's having more fun."
She'd exchanged her dress for a black-green, short sleeved shirt and the black trousers and boots of the Haunt. Curiously enough, she was also armed with a gun and a knife, wearing them with the casual air of someone who knew how to use them. Neither of these items were half as interesting as the filigree gauntlets she wore about her forearms, however. Was it only the sunlight that caused the silver to alternately glint in the sun with almost life-like brilliance, then dull? A happy shout from the children distracted Andrea from asking.
Raziel called a halt to his play, hoisting DJ, the eldest, to his shoulders to allow the little one a chance to calm down a bit. Immediately the baby twined his fingers in Raziel's shoulder length dark hair, yanking in glee. With a grimace of pain, Raziel gently pried the little hands loose and settled them in a more comfortable spot. DJ promptly latched on to the gold loop in his playmate's ear and tugged for all he was worth, yelling in hysterical laughter which set the ladies giggling as well, earning them both an ironic look.