by Amelia Autin
“Princess...” She hated the regretful way he said that word, knowing a refusal was forthcoming.
“If you cannot, you cannot,” she said lightly, and only she knew what effort that lightness cost her—rejection from Trace was still something she found difficult to deal with. “I will only be gone two weeks after all. I would have liked to show you the place where I grew up, introduce you to Andre. But I understand.”
Trace guided his horse over so they were facing each other, knee to knee. He held the reins in an iron grip with his left hand, while his right reached out to cup her cheek. His thumb brushed gently over her lips, and regret cast a shadow over his beautiful blue eyes. “No,” he said softly, his voice husky with emotion. “You don’t understand. You can’t possibly understand. I would if I could, but...” He looked as if he were going to add something to that statement, but he tightened his lips to hold the words back.
“Then...” Mara took her courage in her hands once more. “If you will not go with me to Zakhar, will you take me to your cabin tomorrow?”
He couldn’t disguise the sudden flare of desire that slashed across his face. His right arm slid around her waist, pulling her into an embrace so fierce, so ardent, Mara caught her breath as passion exploded between them. His lips demanded a response, and she yielded gladly, hungry for his kisses...and anything else he would give her. It wasn’t until her slack hand on the reins allowed Suleiman his head and the horses drifted nervously apart that Trace let her go.
Her lips were swollen; her heart skittered wildly in her chest. She brought Suleiman under control and turned his head so she could reach Trace again. “Please,” she said, pride taking a back seat to love. “You cannot know how I have longed for this.”
“I do know,” he said, as he bent to take her lips again, and his kiss was rough, urgent. “Whatever you’re feeling, it’s only a fraction of what I feel,” he muttered. His tongue dove inside, luring hers, and he tasted of love and danger. “I could take you here, now, and I wouldn’t give a damn about snow or anything else,” he said between kisses that melted her insides and made her tremble. Then his kiss gentled. “But you deserve better than that, Princess. You deserve the best I can give you.” He lifted his head and stared down at her, pain she didn’t understand darkening his eyes. Then he seemed to reach a decision. “Yes, I’ll take you to the cabin tomorrow.”
Trace let her go and turned his horse sharply away, putting a little distance between them before stopping dead in his tracks, his head bowed. And Mara knew something was wrong. Very wrong. She wanted to ask him, but she didn’t want to pressure him into telling her what it was. Maybe when we are alone at the cabin, she thought as she touched her heels to Suleiman’s sides and headed slowly back toward the house. Maybe he will tell me then.
Hoofbeats in the snow, the creak of leather and the snorts of the horses were the only sounds that accompanied their return ride, and Mara searched for an explanation for Trace’s sudden capitulation...and his withdrawal. She had hoped going to the cabin would give him the opportunity to tell her he loved her. But until they resolved whatever the problem was, she knew he wasn’t going to say what she wanted to hear.
* * *
Until yesterday Trace hadn’t touched Mara in almost seven weeks. Hadn’t kissed her the way he yearned to do. The way she yearned for him to do. He hadn’t drawn her against his body, letting her feel the desperate need that clawed through him, knowing in his heart of hearts she felt the same way. He’d refrained from touching her, knowing that was the only way to maintain a professional distance. He hadn’t laid her down and worshipped her body with his, taking both of them to a higher plane where the only thing that mattered was the two of them and the love they shared. Where the only thing that mattered was their two hearts beating as one.
No, he hadn’t done any of those things...except in his mind. And he knew—he knew—he wasn’t the only one dreaming those hopeless dreams. The princess wanted him, too, and she no longer even tried to hide it. The scene yesterday was burned into his mind as he remembered her complete surrender. She wouldn’t have cared about the snow either, he brooded, watching silently as she drove confidently along the highway toward Keystone, the speedometer holding steady a few miles above the speed limit.
The defensive driving lessons he’d given her these past weeks had paid off, and she was no longer a nervous driver. No longer hesitant. Not about driving, or anything else. There was a radiance about her now. She’d been lovely before in an understated way, but now she walked in an incandescent glow whenever he was around. Happiness and confidence in herself as a woman had wrought that change. Whenever he looked at her his mouth went dry with desire and his body hardened in a painful rush. But it wasn’t just lust. He could have dealt with that. It wasn’t lust that made his heart skip a beat when she took a dangerous jump on Suleiman. It wasn’t lust that filled him with helpless foreboding at the thought of walking away at the end of the school year. And it damned well wasn’t lust that squeezed his heart when she turned those loving green eyes on him and smiled.
He knew so much more about her now. She still said almost nothing about her father, but he understood her utter devotion to her brother, who’d been the only loving influence in her life.
“...Andre believed in me, even when I was too much of a coward to believe in myself. My father...there was a time when he tried to arrange a marriage for me, before I went to Oxford. I tried to tell him no, but he would not listen to me. I was so terribly afraid I would have no choice, but...Andre...he stopped it. I do not know how, just that he did. Everything I have achieved I owe to him because he freed me...
“...Winter was always my favorite time of year when I was a little girl, because Andre would descend upon the nursery and drag me out to play in the snow. He could be imperious even then, but never for himself, only for me. ‘Come, dernya,’—that means ‘little treasure’ in my language, Andre’s pet name for me. Overriding all objections—my nurse, at first, then my governess, then my tutors—he would hold out his hand to me and insist I accompany him, with a wicked smile that made me dare anything. He had a sled that flew like the wind upon a certain snowy hillside near the palace, and he would take me with him, laughing all the way...
“...Andre taught me to ride without fear. I think I was only three and he was eight when he first took me up in front of him atop his favorite mount. But even then he was protective of me. I knew nothing bad could happen to me with him there. It is the same feeling I have now...with you...
“...Suleiman the Magnificent, that is his full name, and he has lived up to it. He is the brother of Alexander the Great, out of Andre’s own stables. Alexander won the Grand National three years ago, before he was put out to stud. Suleiman had the potential to be another winner for Andre, just as great as his older brother, but...instead, he was Andre’s gift to me when I obtained my PhD. Never, never, will I forget the first moment I saw him. It was love at first sight, the same way I felt when I saw y—”
Mara never completed that sentence, but Trace knew what she had almost said. Her love shone like a beacon in the night. Luring him. Weaving spells around his heart. Fairy tales he’d never been young enough to believe in suddenly seemed possible when her green eyes smiled at him.
Something had to give—either his sanity or his self-control. And what he was afraid of most was losing his iron grip on his self-control.
* * *
Damon cursed under his breath, as did Lukas, when the SUV they were following from a safe distance turned onto an unmarked dirt road that appeared to lead nowhere, the SUV rocking and bouncing a little as it traversed the snow drifts. “I dare not turn,” Damon muttered as he drove steadily by the turn off, never slacking pace.
The SUV had already disappeared from sight, but Lukas aimed the long-lens camera in his hands at the dirt road as they passed it, snapping off a few shots. The digital camera
would record more than just photographs of an empty landscape. It would also embed the GPS location in the digital files for future evaluation. They would return another day and reconnoiter in private, when there was no chance their target might realize he was being followed and put two and two together.
A few minutes later the two soldiers in civilian clothing found themselves in Keystone. Damon turned the car around without discussion and headed back toward Boulder. They weren’t tasked to tail their target everywhere he went, to never let him out of their sight. That would have required at least two more teams, possibly three, and would have dramatically increased the risk of being spotted by their target. No, their job was merely to watch from a distance, record what they could, and report in detail. And be ready to kill him, of course...should the order come. Their target would return to Boulder eventually. And they would be waiting.
* * *
The cabin was cold when Trace and Mara walked in. Trace had the programmable thermostat set at fifty-five degrees so the pipes wouldn’t freeze, but the air inside was decidedly chilly. He quickly turned the heat up, then got a roaring fire going in the fireplace before turning to face the princess, who stood quietly by the door, still bundled up against the Colorado cold.
“What is it?” he asked Mara when she didn’t smile, didn’t walk into the middle of the room, didn’t remove her jacket. Just stood there watching him with a grave expression on her usually animated face.
“That is what I wanted to ask you,” she said with solemn dignity. “All the way here you barely said one word to me. If you did not wish to come here, why are we here?”
Trace closed his eyes momentarily and swore under his breath. His voice was a deep rasp when he admitted, “I’ve wanted to bring you back here every day for the past seven weeks.” A shudder rippled through his body, shaking him to the core. “And every night.”
“Then why did you not bring me before this?” she whispered.
“Because...” He turned away, not wanting her to see the desperate need he was afraid was reflected in his face. “Because I wanted it too much.”
“I do not understand.”
The bewilderment in her voice made him whirl around to face her, and he violently suppressed the urge to stalk across the short distance between them and drag her into his embrace. Anger shook him. Not anger at her, but at himself. “Because I’m responsible for you. For your safety. I’m supposed to be the professional here. Every time I let myself forget that, I put you at risk.”
“Is that the only reason?”
He shook his head slowly and drew a deep breath before continuing. “Because no matter what happens,” he said softly, holding her eyes with his, wondering if she could read him as easily as he read her, “no matter what we feel, I’ll never be the right man for you—you deserve better than what I have to offer.”
“Do you love me?” By the way her hand covered her mouth and the startled expression that crossed her face he knew she’d surprised herself with the question as much as she’d surprised him. When he didn’t respond, she removed her hand from her mouth and said quietly, “If you love me, then nothing else matters.” Her fingers twisted together, the only sign she wasn’t as confident as she seemed. “If you love me, please do not talk of what I deserve.” She took one step toward him. Then another. “Since I have known you all I have wanted to be was a woman. Your woman. Is that so wrong?” she implored. “Just a woman with the man she lo—”
He kissed her to stop her from making that declaration, to stop her from saying the words neither of them could retreat from. But once he touched her he was lost. When his lips took hers she made a soft, glad sound, and one arm circled his neck as she strained to get closer to him.
Heat scorched him from the inside out, and it was like the first time, only worse. Better. Trace couldn’t think of anything to compare it to. Couldn’t think, really. All he knew was that they both had too many clothes on. He stripped her jacket from her arms then fought to remove his own, all the while their lips clung together in a series of kisses that threatened to steal his sanity...to steal his soul. Fire raced through his veins. He wanted. Needed. But so did she. She was as wild to touch him as he was to touch her. Everywhere.
“I have to see you,” Trace whispered, drawing away from Mara only far enough to gaze at her with wonder and pain. “Just once I have to see you as God made you.” The air in the small room was warming up quickly, the heater and the fire in the fireplace doing their job. A faint tremor shook his hands as he reached for the buttons on her blouse. She stood there passively at first, as one button then another slid open. But then her hands were tugging at the pullover sweater he wore beneath his jacket, and when that was off she reached for his buttons, too. She whispered something in Zakharan he didn’t catch, and it was a race between them.
When he unbuttoned her last button his hands tugged the ends of her blouse from her jeans, then slipped inside and slid the blouse off her shoulders. He tried to be gentle, but his heart was slamming inside his chest, and all he could think of was hurry. Hurry. A wisp of a silk-and-lace bra cupped her full breasts the way his hands longed to do. He reached behind her; first unsnapping her bra, then removing the clip that held her hair so that it tumbled around her shoulders in a silken curtain.
Then his hands moved beneath, sure and strong, sliding the bra straps down, down, until she was naked from the waist up, with only her honey-brown hair partially concealing her from him.
A little panicked sound escaped her and she made as if to cover herself. “No, Princess,” he breathed reassuringly. “Don’t hide. Not from me. Please.”
His hands reached for the zipper of her jeans, but she stopped him. At first he thought she’d changed her mind, and disappointment exploded through him. But then she smiled up at him, her obvious desire to please him overcoming her shyness, and she undid the zipper herself. Holding his gaze she skimmed her jeans over her hips. But then she stopped.
His hands replaced hers. “Let me. I’ve dreamed of doing this.” His hands slid inside the waistband and slipped the denim down, kneeling before her. She rested her hands on his shoulders, balancing herself as he gently lifted one foot, then the other, so she could step out of her jeans.
She was trembling, but so was he. He hooked his fingers in the scrap of silk that shielded her womanhood from him and tugged it down and off. Then she was completely bare to his gaze, and he sat back on his heels to take in the sight of her. “Hallelujah,” he whispered finally, reverently.
She laughed, just a breath of a sound, and he realized from the delicate pink flags in her cheeks it was more from the release of the stress of standing naked before him while he was still completely clothed than from humor. He wanted to say something more, to express the complex emotions roiling through him at the sight of her. But he couldn’t think of words strong enough, sweet enough, meaningful enough to describe what this moment meant to him. What her trust meant to him.
He stood up slowly, his hands moving her silky tresses aside so he could caress the pink nipples that tightened even before he touched them. Then he was bending to take one nipple into his mouth, loving it with his tongue. “God, you are beautiful, Princess,” he whispered, as his lips moved to her other nipple and loved it the same way.
“That is not—” Her breath caught. “That is not true,” she said. “I am pretty, yes, but not... Oh!” He’d slipped his hand between her thighs, parting them until his fingers could slide into her velvet tenderness.
“Yes,” he told her, his voice husky with desire. “Beautiful. If Eve had looked like you, Adam would have gladly left Eden.” If Eve had felt like you, he told her in his mind as his fingers moved slowly in and out of her melting softness, Adam would have thought he was still in Eden.
A wave of heat swept through Trace so powerful his whole body tightened, and he knew he had to hold her against his bare
skin just once, or die. His hands made short work of the rest of his clothes, and then he was as naked as she was. His heart was pounding so savagely he was almost beyond caring about anything but having her when he drew her into his arms and felt her all along his body—soft and yielding everywhere he was hard and immovable. But he managed to hold on to his sanity—and his self-control—by his fingertips.
Then he was touching her again, fingers stealing into her body, stealing her breath, making her melt and run, making her clutch at his arms with desperation. His mouth trailed down to suckle the pink nipples that peeked at him through her glorious hair, tugging first one, then the other into his mouth until she moaned and her knees buckled. He held her up with one strong arm while he bent her backwards and continued his assault on her senses, until she shuddered uncontrollably and cried his name again and again, giving to him so sweetly, so completely, he knew he would remember this day forever.
His arms were iron bands around her body as he pressed her head against his shoulder, holding her close until the last tremor faded away. His body throbbed and he let her feel his desire, hot and hard against her stomach, begging for release. But he wouldn’t let it go further. He couldn’t. He knew there was a bed...soft...inviting...in the next room. But he didn’t dare trust himself anywhere near it. He yearned to lay her down and come into her welcoming body, sealing himself to her in the most elemental way. But once wouldn’t be enough, would never be enough. If he once made her his, he would kill to keep her his forever.
And he knew he couldn’t keep her. She could never be his. Even if she loved him anywhere approaching how much he loved her, she could never be his. The school year would end and she would have no choice—she would return to Zakhar, abandoning him. Leaving him in hell.