His mouth went dry. Blood rushed in his ears.
"You're practically the same age as I am! And you're the one who said you wanted to kiss me in the first place. You're leaving and I'm leaving, and I've never been kissed before"—she took another step closer—"and, well, I want you to be my first kiss. But it's pretty simple. First, I want to know who you really are."
"You do know me."
"I mean, know who you really, truly are."
Her wonderful smile spread across her face, and by All's name, he had to kiss that mouth. He'd never been kissed either, but he wouldn't tell her that.
"I do wish to kiss you."
She gave a slight, encouraging bob of her head, the cascade of tight auburn curls bouncing as she did so.
Few touched him; few approached him—and certainly no one ever kissed the king. A droplet of rain fell on his cheek, but he ignored it, preparing for his bold move. He'd led troops into battle already; he could handle this simple thing. Yet the beating of his heart was worse than the night when Antousian brigade forces had cornered him in Trajsek.
Another few raindrops plopped against his face, but he brushed them away with the back of his hand. Now was the time. He bent low, seeking out her lips with his own mouth. Just a brush, a light feathering of touch. So warm, so soft as her mouth met his. He lifted his hands and gently tipped her face upward. He kept his eyes open, because he wanted to see her expression; she had her own eyes closed, giving herself up to him with perfect trust. On his planet, nobody trusted a near-stranger anymore. Only that was the confusing part: They weren't strangers. Not now, not from the very beginning.
Closing his eyes, he grew more intent, searching out her mouth with his tongue. He felt her hands reach upward, around his neck, her fingers running through his hair. The kiss deepened, became hotter and deeper, and he closed his hand around her back, pulling her flush against him. Everything seemed to be swirling in around them; his power began to escalate, right in the core of his belly, and he shuddered, afraid of revealing himself. But he couldn't break the kiss—he wouldn't—even as his whirlwind of power gained momentum. A shifting and burning began in the center of his being until he almost shook with the raw power of the sensation.
He would never be able to stop the drumming in his veins and body, not with her—not ever. Thank the gods that she pulled away from him with a soft cry.
"What is that?" She lifted her clear blue eyes to meet his searchingly. He shook his head, feeling fuzzy and swimmy and so aroused, all at once.
"I don't know what you mean."
She pointed upward, and as he followed with his eyes, more raindrops pelted him in the face. The transport had descended and was hovering directly overhead, silent and powerful. Purposed. He cursed in Refarian, then gazed back down at her. "It's my transport. The elders have come to take me from here."
She began to shake in his arms. "Elders? Transport. Oh, God." She pushed out of his grasp. "You're definitely a visitor, all right." Her voice shook; her hands shook; her eyes became tinged with panic.
"I didn't want to frighten you," he said softly, following her backward steps intently. "Never. I wished only to keep you safe."
"Oh, my God! Oh, my God, oh, God," she babbled frantically, staring up at the strange aircraft hovering directly over their heads. "I can't believe this. I just kissed you, and you're an alien."
Her hand flew to her mouth, and she stopped pushing him away. "You're going to go and never come back." He saw tears glint in her eyes.
He drew her into his arms, hard and fast. "I will come back. I promise," he insisted. Then the ship descended much closer in the blink of an eye, hovering just above them.
Her gaze traveled upward, and her shaking intensified. "You should have told me," she whispered, pointing to the sky. "Who are they?"
"My people. They only want me," he assured her. "They're not here to hurt you. You know there's no reason to be afraid of me, don't you, Kelsey?"
"You would never hurt me," she agreed, holding him even closer, as if wanting to root him to the very earth itself.
He paused long enough to bend down and kiss her full on the mouth again, this time much more boldly. With the elders bearing down on them, he knew what was coming next: separation. And he knew what they both wanted—more of each other. The transport moved in lower, locking in on them, and as he stared into her eyes one last time, he made a decision. He would have Kelsey Wells as his own. Here, now, someday, she would belong to him completely, and he would give all of himself to her.
With an upward glance he made a second decision.
"Let's go," he commanded her, just as he would any of his troops under direct threat. He grabbed her hand and began running into the woods, leading her away from his ship.
"Where are we heading?"
"Anywhere," he said, breathlessly drawing her into the dark, away from those who would separate them.
They ran for long moments, stumbling through the midnight woods. "My parents are going to freak." She laughed, and he tightened his grip around her hand.
"Please just run," he instructed, pulling her with him until there was only forest around them, and the only thing visible over their heads was the dark treetops.
He stopped, breathing heavily as he stared upward to confirm their safety. His people couldn't get a fix on his positioning now. "I was not yet ready to part from you."
"But it's time for you to go," she answered, her voice heavy with sadness. "Isn't it? Or they wouldn't be here now."
He would enter hyperspace later tonight, tunneling across the galaxies via an intricate network of wormholes and higher dimensions until he arrived home on Refaria in a matter of weeks. Thousands of light-years apart by her human comprehension, but not for his people, with their complex dimensional technology. "I will find you," he promised. "I vow it, Kelsey."
"I'll just be a microscopic speck in your universe." She stared toward the night sky even though above them were only the trees.
"Kelsey, there is a long-standing tie between our two worlds. I can't tell you more now, but I promise you that I will return one day. By then, you will probably have loved many human boys."
"That's not true. It can't be."
He wasn't king to her, just a male who she wanted…perhaps loved. Or could love. One day. "I want to show you something," he whispered, an idea growing inside of him. "Something I want you to remember, no matter what."
She nodded, and he noticed that she shivered, even as she stepped closer. If she was afraid, only that slight trembling in her body betrayed the fear. When she stood only slightly apart from him, he turned his right wrist over, allowing a silvery beam of light from his other hand to fall upon the bare skin. He felt the prickling of power, the spidery electricity of revelation—until, at last, his royal emblem appeared in the air, glowing and undulating in all its ancient mystery. It was the one sure proof of his lineage as king. He was the D'Aravni, the only living leader of his people, marked as sovereign from birth.
The bright, swirling mark moved in the air above his wrist, but Kelsey said nothing, only gaped at it. "That's so beautiful," she whispered. "You are so beautiful."
Something strange stirred inside of him, something that frightened him a little, a rush of desire that he'd never felt before, not even during these past two days. It made his hands tremble, but he resolved to keep his emblem open until she'd seen enough.
"Can I touch it?" she asked.
The heat in his body escalated again, causing the tremors to increase. He swallowed. "Yes."
She took a daring step closer, gingerly lifting her fingers to touch the shimmering, swirling mark of his power where it hovered in the air just above his wrist. First one finger, then another, until her whole hand skimmed over the surface of his energy, causing a thrill of desire to snake down his spine. Every time she touched his emblem, he felt it in his body. Everywhere. He gasped, allowing the mark to retract, pulling it back within his energy, and took hold of her. Without
apology or thought, he kissed her again. His sweet, blessed human—he had to kiss her.
And Kelsey kissed him back; with everything inside of her, she opened to him, her tongue exploring his mouth, twining with his, her hands in his hair. She had to feel him—more of him—before he left her behind.
"Stop now," came a commanding voice from the darkness, slightly accented, just like Jareshk's. They sprang apart from each other, startled.
"My lord, you have made this difficult," the man said from the shadows. He spoke English, as Jareshk did with her. As she stated at him, trying to make out his face, Kelsey's heart thundered. What if this man wasn't good like Jareshk? What if he was the scary kind of alien?
"Councilor Aldorsk, you interrupt without request."
"We are overdue for departure, as my lord well knows."
"Who is he?" she whispered under her breath, but Jareshk brushed past her, touching her arm lightly in reassurance.
"Elder, I will return to the ship when my time here is done."
"You will return with me now, my lord."
In the silvered shadows, Kelsey could see the older man bowing to Jareshk. She watched the discussion play out, terrified for her life, and just as terrified at the thought of never seeing Jareshk again.
"I obey and serve the throne, my lord. You are jeopardizing your safety and your life here with this . . . young theshta." The man waved in her direction dismissively.
"Speak of her with respect." Obviously theshta, whatever it meant, wasn't very complimentary.
Again the man bowed, lower this time, placing a fist over his heart. "She is lovely, my king, and clearly kind to you, but your destiny beckons."
King? Why did he just call Jareshk a king?
The man stepped out of the shadows, and although she flinched to realize he was walking toward her, his eyes, once revealed by the moonlight, were not unkind. In fact, they were filled with a surprising amount of sympathy, which was probably why she felt she should trust him. She had to trust him, in fact; it was very, very important that she do so. Just as it was critical for her to let him touch the crown of her head with his aged hands.
In the background, like some dim dream bobbing hazily on the horizon, she thought she heard Jareshk say something that sounded like, "Don't."
Why would he say that? she wondered sleepily. So heavy, so tired, so… ready to go home. What was she doing here? She glanced around, and was surprised to find that she was sitting on the shore of the lake. How had that happened? Last thing she remembered, she'd been falling asleep in the tent beside her mother, glad for those thick socks from Grandma Wells.
With a jerk of her head, she glanced in every direction: first across the water, then up at the Tetons. The early pinkish light of dawn had begun to color the horizon; their campfire was cold. How long have I been sitting here? she wondered with a shiver. It made no sense whatsoever.
She must have been sleepwalking, she told herself, standing up to brush off her hands. That had to be it. But as she glanced down at her palms, they seemed to shine; not much, just the faintest bit, as if she'd dipped them in Day-Glo paint, like she'd done while working on the homecoming float last year.
Hmm, she thought with only a sluggish amount of curiosity. Wonder how that happened? And then she stumbled back toward the tent, ready to sleep for a very long time.
"Councilor Aldorsk, I command you to desist."
His mentor stared back at him, sadness in his aging eyes. "I must protect you, my king."
Jared knew then that the chief elder would not obey.
"Please don't," Jareshk asked simply, beseeching Aldorsk with his eyes. In horror he'd watched as Kelsey's memories of their time together had been wiped from her mind. If Aldorsk wiped his memories as well, he would never find his way back to her. It would be as if nothing had ever happened between them. Jareshk felt tears burning his eyes, and he paced the transport hallway. Must he be required to sacrifice even this? When he'd already given everything to serve his people? When his own parents had been murdered for the same throne?
He knew what would come next, felt the tendrils of his mentor's power already reaching into his mind. "Don't take her from me. Please, Aldorsk, I beg of you."
The elder's kind eyes grew pained. "Son," he said, clasping his shoulder, "the memory jeopardizes your safety. It links you with her."
"It was only a kiss."
"A kiss that created a memory bond between you and this human."
"Her name is Kelsey."
"My lord," his beloved councilor said, bowing, "there will be many young women . . . many kisses and far more than that. You are entering your first season; that's all that you are feeling. We can make arrangements to help you through this cycle safely. To meet your needs—"
"Don't talk to me about my season!" Jareshk roared. "I've not had such a thing. I will never cycle, not with someone of the council's choosing."
"Mating cycles are natural for your line, my lord. You know this, even if we've never discussed it openly."
Jareshk's stomach tightened with shame. "I will not cycle, not without Kelsey. I will never mate, not with any female other than Kelsey Wells."
"She won't be the last to catch your fancy."
"She's special," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I need to remember her—I must! I won't be able to find her if I forget."
"Your safety, my king, must always come first," Aldorsk said, inclining his head even as he closed his power around Jareshk's mind. "Forgive me, but you must forget."
Jareshk wanted to argue, to protest that he knew it wasn't his own safety, but rather the safety of the succession that the elders were so worried about. Oh, he wanted to cry out a great many things, but he could not seem to find his voice.
What had she looked like? Oh, gods, he couldn't say. What color was her hair? No memory.
"Please," he implored, locking his power of intuition around one image, the only one he could seem to hold fast to, as all the others sifted away from him like sand through his fingertips. But what was it? He could not even say for sure. "I…beg you not to take her." He gasped, still seeking to lock on to something, anything that he could keep of her. There it was again! And this time he recognized the one image that Aldorsk couldn't seem to touch: her graceful human hand caressing his royal mark; then came another, of her in his arms, kissing him. Except there was a problem: The kiss was like quicksand, impossible to grasp, falling from him. If he could just recall her name, her eyes, anything! Then he could keep the memory of her; it would be his, untouchable. Permanent. Pure. Aldorsk's power tightened around his mind a second time, causing a flash of pain behind his eyes and a strange spasm of grief in his heart.
"There, my lord," Aldorsk soothed softly, gazing into his eyes. He dropped his hands back to his sides. "There, you are well."
"Am I?" Jareshk asked uncertainly, lifting a hand to his head. There was something precious he'd been trying so hard to remember. Wait—it was there, just below the surface, if only he could lay hold of it.
Aldorsk slipped one arm around his shoulder, walking him toward the transport elevator. "You will feel better once you rest, my king."
"Yes, undoubtedly."
"The trip to survey the mitres has been a heavy burden for you." As always, genuine concern filled Aldorsk's eyes. He'd been the closest thing to a father Jareshk had known since his own father's murder almost six years ago.
Jareshk stepped into the lift, nodding politely toward Aldorsk, but a spark of an image in his mind's eye made him stop the closing doors with his palm. A delicate hand, touching his mark. He never revealed his royal seal to anyone. That image was chased quickly by another, more startling one: He was kissing a woman with dark red hair. He had never kissed anyone.
Aldorsk stared at him expectantly. "My lord?"
Jareshk's head felt fuzzy, as if his memories and thoughts were suddenly expanding far too much to fit inside his brain. Had he been thinking of something? He wasn't even sure.
; "I'm to bed," he said with a laugh. "I've no idea what I was going to say."
Then, like a butterfly flickering aimlessly on to its next flower, the memory of that kiss—that tender, stolen, unforgettable kiss—floated into the burning sun.
Chapter One
In the northern portion of the Teton Range stood a mountain as proud and immovable as the man whose revolution hid within its depths. In the grand scheme of the area, it seemed an unspectacular thing. Too small to interest climbers, too low to stand above its siblings in the region, the mountain's jagged face rose, nevertheless, in simple defiance of its averageness. It had the countenance of a warrior, with craggy heights shaped by time and element. Concealing a network of tunnels and machinery, it was Jared Bennett's most important base, crucial to the rebellion he housed within its shadow.
Today, Jared was inspecting one minuscule piece of that vast military framework, staring across a large hangar filled with a fleet of fighters his engineers had spent the past nine months testing. Sleek and black, the planes had moved stealthily along Earth's surface in test flights that had taken his pilots from California to Japan and onward over to Europe, then back across the East Coast of this country they called their temporary home.
A hydraulic lift approached, sounding warning beeps as it backed up to one craft's side. Jared's engineers stood back, waiting, as always, for their commander's approval. He mounted the steps, climbing upward toward the craft's cockpit. For a moment, he appraised the plane's design, appreciating its powerful styling.
"Tight little things, aren't they?" Jared remarked to one of the engineers, running his fingertips over the dull black surface of the wing. His deep voice echoed off the hangar's ceiling, which stood a good forty feet overhead.
His chief engineer stepped forward and smiled, obviously pleased with the praise. "We've worked hard on the design," the man said, releasing the hatch with the flick of a switch on his handheld control. "Room for two, but still light enough to go long distances without refueling."
Parallel Attraction Page 2