by Day Leclaire
“Try.”
He pretended to consider. “Sorry, doesn’t come to me.”
“Perhaps time in a jail cell will assist your memory.”
Merrick planted his feet as though in preparation for a blow. “Don’t count on it.”
Brandt stopped in front of him. “I married this woman you ‘picked up’ believing her to be Alyssa. I took her to my bed and made love to her.” He lifted an eyebrow. “You react to that. Interesting. So, you do know her. And for some reason you don’t care for the fact that we were intimate. I’d suspect she were a former lover of yours, except for one small detail.”
“What’s that?” Merrick asked through gritted teeth.
“My mysterious bride was a virgin.”
Merrick’s fury burst through his self-control. “How dare you put your hands on her. You had no right!”
“I had every right. She’s my wife.” He leaned forward, speaking in a low, intense voice. “Do you think I took her by force? If so, think again. Now tell me who she is and why you’re protecting her.”
Merrick gathered himself. “It’s my job. I got her into this situation. It’s my responsibility to ensure that no harm comes to her.”
“Then you shouldn’t have put her in harm’s way.” Brandt stepped back and signaled Tolken. “Take Prince Merrick and his wife to the Amethyst Suite. And Tolken?” His black eyes held a warning. “Make sure it’s secured. No more surprises.”
Merrick paused by the door, determined to have the last word. “She left you, Brandt.” He tossed the comment over his shoulder. “Your wife could have stayed. But she didn’t. You might want to think about that.”
Apparently, he wasn’t to have the last word, after all. “And you might want to wish your own bride a fond farewell,” Brandt shot back. “Because I intend to make certain that this is the last night you spend with her for a very long time to come.”
Alyssa and Merrick were escorted to their room. As soon as the door locked behind them, she walked into her husband’s arms. “This is all my fault.”
“No,” he corrected. “It’s von Folke’s.”
“You warned me it was a trap. I should have listened to you.”
“Okay, that’s true.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Amazing. Here we are, captured, locked in a room, the threat of jail hanging over your head. How can you make light of it?”
“What would you rather I do?”
“Hold me.” He tightened his arms around her, willing to do whatever necessary to ease her mind. “You were right about one thing.”
“I’m right about most things,” he informed her with impressive modesty. “Which one did you have in mind?”
“Did you see how Prince Brandt treated my mother? He was so…gentle with her. So careful. She usually has that affect on people, but even so I suspect he’d never have hurt her. You told me he wouldn’t, but I didn’t believe you.”
“You couldn’t take the risk. I understand that.”
“I’m so sorry, Merrick.” Her arms encircled his neck. “I can’t bear the thought that you’ll be condemned to prison because of me. What are we going to do?”
“Give von Folke time to come to terms with what’s happened.” He released his breath in a long sigh. “Which will give me time to come to terms with it, as well.”
“That won’t be easy.” She hesitated, lowering her voice to a soft murmur. “What about Miri?”
“We keep silent about her. Do you hear me, Alyssa? Not a single word to von Folke.”
She frowned. “You’re not going to tell him who he married?”
Was she kidding? “Not a chance. I don’t want him anywhere near my sister any more than I want him near my wife.”
Alyssa hesitated, and he could tell she was picking her way through their conversation. “She stayed with him, Merrick. If Prince Brandt is telling the truth, she chose to sleep with him. Did you tell her to do that?”
He jerked back as though she’d struck him. “Hell, no! How could you even suggest such a thing?”
“I didn’t think you had,” she hastened to placate. “But the point is, it happened. She wouldn’t have slept with him just to give us more of a head start, would she?”
“No.”
Her hands dropped to his shoulders, massaging the clenched muscles. “Is that a ‘No, I hope not because I can’t handle the guilt if she did’ or ‘No, it’s not in her nature to ever do such a thing’? I hate to ask the question, but does Miri have as strong a sense of duty as you? Would she have slept with Prince Brandt for king and country?”
He swore, long and virulently. “Yes, she has a strong sense of duty. No, I hope to God she wouldn’t do anything as foolish as to sleep with von Folke in order to give us extra time to get away, or even worse, out of obligation.”
He didn’t dare consider the possibility that there might be another reason, not when he was holding on to his temper by a thread. Still, he couldn’t help remembering the conversation he and Alyssa had the night he’d abducted her—the one where they’d discussed the possibility that there’d been a personal aspect to Miri’s insistence on participating in the abduction.
“So, what now?” Alyssa asked.
“Now we do as von Folke suggested. We make the most of the time we have left together.”
“Don’t say that,” she protested in alarm. “You’re not going to prison, not if I have anything to say about it. I’ll deny I was abducted. They can’t prove I didn’t go with you willingly.”
“This isn’t the United States.” He tried to break it to her gently. “Despite the fact that you’re Princess Alyssa, duchess of Celestia, von Folke governs this part of Verdonia. His word is law. He can throw me in prison, if that’s what he chooses and there’s little anyone can do about it. My best guess is he’ll leave me to rot in jail for a while before banishing me.”
“But just from Avernos, right? Surely, he can’t banish you from the entire country?”
“He can—and will—if he takes the throne.”
“No! I won’t allow that to happen.”
He regarded her with regret. “You won’t be able to stop it.” He brushed a kiss across her brow. “Since we can’t predict what tomorrow will bring, there’s no point in worrying about it now. We still have tonight. Let’s not waste our few remaining hours.”
Tears filled her eyes. “What if I want more than just one night?”
“Our relationship was never meant to be permanent. That was our agreement, remember?” He tilted his head to one side, hoping against hope. “Or has that changed?”
“And…and if it has?” Her chin shot up and a hint of defiance gleamed in her eyes. “What if I said I wanted more than a temporary relationship?”
He had to hear the words. “How much more?”
She took a deep breath and he could feel her square her shoulders. “What if I said I wanted our marriage to be a real one? What would you say then?”
He hardened himself against her pleading gaze. “I’d say that wasn’t enough. I want more from my wife, from the woman I commit to spend the rest of my life with.”
A tremor rippled through her. “Then…what if I said I loved you? What if I told you that I love you more than I thought it possible to love another person?”
He closed his eyes, wanting to shout in triumph. “Are you asking? Or are you saying the words?”
“I love you, Merrick.” No hesitation this time. No doubt. No ambiguity. Just a hint of wonder and a infinite quantity of joy.
“That’s all I need to hear.” He cupped her face. “I love you, too, Princess. You are my beginning, my middle and my end. More than anything, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Dragging his head down to hers, she took his mouth in an urgent, hungry kiss, one that devastated the senses. Her hands caught at his T-shirt, shoving it up and out of her way until she hit hot, bare skin.
Her desperation poured over him in waves, her need ripe and edgy.
Demanding a response. Teetering out of control. She so clearly wanted to lose herself in him. He followed her lead, taking his mouth off hers only long enough to yank her thin cotton shirt over her head and toss it aside.
She was beautifully naked underneath, her breasts milky white and topped with sweet raspberry buds that begged to be tasted. He took a quick biting sample and she went rigid in his arms. A thin, keening wail caught in her throat and she vibrated with a frenzied yearning that nearly proved his undoing. He slid his hands along endlessly bared skin to the snap of her jeans, ripping it open.
“I’ve never wanted a man the way I want you.” She swept a hand down his chest until her hand hovered at the heavy bulge beneath his belt buckle. “I can’t seem to help myself. I can’t seem to get enough. I want more.”
“No problem.” It took every ounce of self-possession not to grind himself against her hand. He settled for leaning more fully into her, mating them as completely as possible without immediate access to a bed, far fewer clothes and the time and energy to indulge in every hot and sweaty fantasy the two of them could invent. “For you, I have a limitless supply.”
“No.” Her head moved restlessly back and forth. “This isn’t just about sex. That wouldn’t be enough for me.”
“Really? I thought it was pretty good, myself.”
She fixed her gaze on him, her eyes huge and dilated. “Sex…that’s for anyone, anywhere. That’s easy. I’ve never been willing to accept easy. I’ve always wanted more.”
He stilled, understanding what she was trying to say. “But you’ve been too afraid to grab more, haven’t you, Princess?”
She trembled with the effort to speak, to trust him enough to open her heart. “I’ve spent a lifetime running. My mother taught me that lesson well.” Her throat worked for an endless moment, and when the words came they were heavy with pain. “I’m afraid to stop.”
“Then pause. Just for one night.” He soothed her with a kiss, eased her heartache the only way he knew how. “Savor the moment. You can always run tomorrow.”
“You don’t understand, because you’ve always had it. A home. Roots. Security.” She leaned into him and closed her eyes, almost chanting the words. “I don’t belong. I’ve never belonged.”
“Is it that you don’t belong, or have you turned away from the one thing you want most of all because you were too afraid to take a risk?” He pushed ever so gently. “Tell me which it is.”
Tears squeezed from beneath her tightly closed lids. “I’m afraid,” she whispered. “I want to belong. But I can’t risk it. So, I tell myself I can’t have it. That I don’t even want it.”
The answer was so simple. Didn’t she see? “It’s already yours, my love. You do belong. You belong with me. Now and forever.”
He speared his fingers into her hair and lifted her face to his. Her beautiful, tragic face. He kissed away the pain etched alongside her mouth, across her eyebrows, nuzzling the muscle-tense juncture of neck and shoulder, before briefly sampling the raspberries and cream. He trailed his hands up her exposed arms to her shoulders, watching her shiver. Watching her nipples peak with desire while her gold-tipped lashes fluttered open once again. Her skin felt like silk, the sheen from her desire tinting it with the barest hint of sultry rose.
His touch sparked an immediate response. With a sigh of relief she opened to him, gave herself without question or hesitation. And he took what she so unstintingly offered. He lowered his head and captured her mouth once again. Her lips parted beneath his in helpless invitation and she softened against him. It was such a gentle taking, the way he slipped between her lips, the sweep and swirl of his tongue a blatant imitation of a more physical joining. It told her how it could be, if she would just let down her guard and open to him. She responded, tentatively at first, and then with growing ardor.
Instantly, the gentleness shifted and became more passionate. Fierce. Raw. Their desire spinning out of control. Without breaking contact with her mouth, he cupped her bottom and lifted. Her legs parted of their own accord, wrapping around him, allowing him to settle in the warm juncture of her jean-clad thighs. His clothes were a delicious abrasion, the friction of his slow undulations driving her toward the brink. She rocked in tempo with him for an endless minute of pure delicious lust before freezing.
“Please.” She tightened her hold, preventing him from moving, while she dragged air into her lungs. “I’m going to lose it.”
He brushed his fingertips across her beaded nipples, edging her closer still. “I hope to heaven this suite has a bedroom.”
She swallowed, fighting for control, teetering so close to oblivion that he knew the least little movement would send her over. “Find it. Fast. Or it’ll be too late.”
“It’s already too late. We’ll do it here and now.”
His mouth crushed hers, practically swallowing her whole, as he tipped her onto the floor. Hands got in the way, his as he tackled her jeans, hers as she tackled his. Clothes ripped loose, discarded with blistering haste. The urgency built, pounding at them, firing their blood, reducing them to the most basic, primal essence. Through the roar in his ears he heard her whimper, the breathless plea, the blatant demand. Or maybe they came from him.
The scent of her filled his lungs, the sweet, hot musky odor that was so uniquely hers. It roused him to a fever pitch, proving to him yet again that in this regard, nature forever dominated intellect. He found her ready for him, burning wet, and he filled her, driving into her, sending her up and over. She crashed down, brutally hard, only to scream upward once again as he rode the pain and pleasure.
It had never been like this. Never. “More. More. More!” The words were ripped from him. A desperate mantra that beat out the pace. The music sang through them both, soaring to a final endless note before dying to silence.
The breath shuddered from her lungs and she stared at him, dazed. “That was…that was—” She trembled. “I haven’t a clue what that was. But you better be able to play it again.”
“Oh, yeah.” Maybe. If he lived that long.
Eventually they found the bed and fell into it, exhausted. She clung to him and he read the silent message. She was terrified that any minute now Tolken and his men would come to the door and drag him away. He could only reassure her with his touch. He held her, stroked her, soothed her. The light fragmented off his wedding band, catching her eye and her arms tightened around him in response.
“You’re my husband.” She said the words, fiercely, laying claim.
“For as long as you choose.”
Her fingers traced his features, a delicate exploration before feathering into his hair. “He’ll come for you soon.”
His shoulders lifted. “We have a little longer.”
“I don’t think I can handle it when they take you.” The admission came hard. “I want you in my life. More than that, I need you.”
“I can give you what you need. No question.” He said it with absolute assurance.
She smiled, her mouth trembling from laughter to tears. “You don’t know what I need or want. You might think you do. But you don’t.”
The tenor had grown serious and he rolled onto his side to face her. “Then tell me,” he urged. “Tell me so I’ll know.”
She met his gaze and he read the temptation hovering there along with the reluctance. “If you were smart,” she whispered, “you’d let me go. I’m not the type to stick around.”
“I can’t. I won’t.” He felt the brief yielding of her body and pressed home his advantage. “You say you love me, that you want to be with me. You have a home in Celestia. You have people who love you and need you there. So, stay.” To his frustration, he instantly realized he’d miscalculated, a rare misstep.
She stiffened within his arms, wariness creeping into her gaze. “Is this how you negotiate? Use whatever advantage will get you what you want?”
“Yes.” He couldn’t help smiling. “Though if it makes you feel any better, I only use my sexual adva
ntage on you.”
Exhaling roughly, she flopped onto her back. “Of course. After all, it’s worked like a charm up until now, hasn’t it?” She scrubbed the heels of her hands across her face as though waking from a deep sleep. “What am I thinking? I’m not the type who stays. I can’t believe I’m even considering the possibility.”
He couldn’t resist a final caress, one that left her shivering in reaction. “What did she do to you, Alyssa?”
She didn’t pretend confusion, he gave her credit for that much. “It’s not my mother’s fault. Not totally. I could have chosen a different path instead of following in her footsteps.”
“Explain it to me.”
“You haven’t noticed her hands, have you?” She shook her head before he could answer. “No, you wouldn’t have. There hasn’t really been an opportunity for you to.”
Merrick frowned, picturing Angela during that brief time they’d been in the room together. He’d observed her, of course, and had automatically filed away a quick, detailed image in his mind. An occupational hazard. She’d been slight of build and fair like Alyssa. Paler. Fragile. Eyes the same slice-of-heaven blue. But her features were sharper. Drawn. She’d stood perfectly still, arms at her sides, as though reluctant to draw attention to herself. But he couldn’t recall anything specific about her hands.
“No, I didn’t notice,” he admitted. “What about them?”
“They were broken as a child. Deliberately. Finger by finger.”
“Oh God.”
“The details aren’t important. Let’s just say that whatever type of abuse you can imagine happening to her probably did.”
Anger filled him, an impotent rage over the helplessness of children trapped in the keeping of deviant, amoral adults. “Was she removed from her parents’ custody?”
“Yes. Foster homes followed. A series of them. I don’t think she was abused there. At least, she’s never hinted at it. She just wasn’t helped. When she turned sixteen, she took off.”
He closed his eyes. “And so the running began.”
“Exactly. She’s spent most of her life looking for love and never finding it, always hoping she’d discover salvation around the next corner.” Alyssa’s mouth twisted. “Or with the next man. Most of her husbands have been older. Substitute father figures, if I had to guess.”