Her eyes widened in shock.
“You’re surprised?” His smile was bittersweet. “Oh yes, I knew from that first moment you walked out of the castle into the courtyard and started ordering me about.”
“You could not.” Her voice was barely audible even to herself. “I’m no Helen of Troy to so bedazzle men.”
“You bedazzled me. You shone like purest gold in the sunlight, all strength, courage, and loving heart. You still shine with it. At times, when you’re weary or discouraged, it’s only a dull glow, but at other times you sparkle and shimmer as if—”
“Fine words,” she said shakily.
“Words you don’t want to hear. Do you think I don’t know that?” His big hand clenched slowly into a fist on the table. “I’m allowed lust, but not love. I regret you cannot have one without the other. That’s what I tried to tell you yesterday. We’ve come too close.” He met her gaze. “Have the honesty to admit it.”
His words were probing through the barriers she had raised, battering her. “I … do not deny I lust after you.”
“No, lust is safe. Not good, but safe. I knew when you walked in here this morning you’d come to terms with it. But love is a betrayal of Ian. You won’t face that, will you?”
“What are you saying? I love Ian.” The pain was growing too great. She closed her eyes to shut it out, shut him out. “I do love him.”
“Yes, I know you do.” He paused. “But you love me too.”
Her lids flew open. “No!”
A flicker of anger crossed his face. “Dammit, admit it. Give me that much at least.”
“A woman cannot love two men.”
“Because all the poets and troubadours babble that there is only one great love in every life? Bah, there are many kinds of love, and we could have the very best kind.” His brown eyes glittered in his taut face. “We could have lust and humor and understanding. We’re the same kind of people, two halves of a whole.”
She shook her head. “We’re nothing alike.”
“The only difference between us is the conscience that chains you to—”
“I don’t want to hear this.”
“Because you don’t want to believe it. I told you there would be no mercy.” He smiled bitterly. “But I’ve extended you more mercy than I thought possible. I’ve given you three long years of keeping the flame turned low so it would not burn you. I could have taken you a moment ago, and I promise I would have made sure you knew what you felt was more than lust.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I didn’t want to see the look in your eyes when you realized you had just committed adultery with the man you love. You’re a strong woman, but I don’t think you could have survived that blow.”
“I don’t love you. I won’t love you,” she said desperately.
“You do, but we will talk no more about it at present.” He shifted his massive shoulders as if shrugging off a burden. “You say Ian wants a seal of his own? Then let’s set about it. We’ll have to do—”
“What are you talking about?” she asked blankly. “A seal?”
He nodded brusquely. “I’ve decided we’ll continue as we have been. You’ve proved surprisingly valuable as an apprentice, a little too talkative, but I can tolerate that fault.”
He was pretending what had gone before had not happened. “I can’t just ignore—”
“Of course you can. Ian wants you to be amused. I believe I can guarantee to distract you. As for the other” —he met her gaze—“I’ll wait until you make the first move.”
“I’ll never make it.”
“But how can you not when you need a child for Ian?” He smiled sadly. “Poor Margaret, what a quandary.”
“It’s different now. I could not …” She lifted a trembling hand to her temple. “I cannot think.”
“I do not ask you to think. I would far prefer you to only feel. Someday, if I’m fortunate, you’ll oblige me by shutting down that pesky conscience and letting yourself take what we both need.”
She shook her head.
He shrugged. “Then I’m no worse off than before, am I? Nothing has really changed.”
How could he say that? Everything had changed. Each nerve and muscle in her body seemed tuned to his every response, every gesture. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have come here,” she said shakily.
“Have I, at last, convinced you of that?” He smiled. “Too late, Margaret. My grand period of self-sacrifice is over. Now I’ll take what I can get. If you don’t come to me, I’ll go to Ian every evening and spend a charming few hours with the two of you.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“Why not? I’m very fond of Ian, and he’s been complaining I haven’t visited him enough of late. You can come here in the mornings or you can sit there beside Ian and have me watch you and know every moment what I’m thinking, what I’m wanting to do with you.”
She wouldn’t be able to bear it, and Kartauk was aware of that as he was aware of everything else about her. “I was thinking just yesterday that you were kind, but that’s not true. You’re very cruel.”
“I’m neither kind nor cruel. I’m only a hungry man who will be fed. Even if it must be hard crusts instead of hearty fare.” He turned and walked toward the door leading to the veranda. “You look a bit distraught, and it takes a steady hand for the carving of a seal. I think we’ll wait until tomorrow to start to fashion it. And after we finish the seal, I think it’s time I did a statue of you…”
uel gazed blindly at the sun starting its descent behind the mountain.
Jane should be here within the hour.
He should be satisfied. He was satisfied, dammit. The forfeiting of the penalty money had hurt her, not only because of the loss itself but because the defeat had been to him. She had been made to feel helpless and defeated.
she needs to win.
Dilam’s words in the belim tent came back to him. Well, she hadn’t won this time. He would never forget her expression of numb horror as she had looked at the damage wrought by the elephant. He had felt something twist inside him and he wanted to reach out and—
Comfort? The instinct meant nothing, he assured himself. It was entirely natural to admire a foe who had fought a valiant fight, but that did not mean he was softening toward her. He could not soften.
He turned heavily away from the window and moved across the room to the chair by the fireplace. Soon it would be over. The loss at Elephant Crossing had been only the beginning. By the time she left this summer-house, he would have the satisfaction of knowing she had been punished as she deserved. That’s what he wanted, wasn’t it?
Christ, of course it was what he wanted. This rawness fraying his nerves was only impatience now that he was so close to his aim.
Impatience … and lust.
The dark blue curled tile roof of the summerhouse shimmered gray in the moonlight. Light streamed from the arched windows, casting fan-shaped shadows on the grass.
He was waiting for her.
Naturally, he was waiting for her, Jane thought impatiently. He had been waiting for her for over three years.
She braced herself and then walked quickly down the terrace steps and the path leading to the summerhouse.
She could get through this. He was only Ruel, not the mandarin she had let her fears exaggerate to giant proportions. He could not harm her if she did not allow it. She drew a deep breath as she reached the door and then flung it open. She said flatly, “I’m here.”
“I see you are.” Ruel was sitting in a superbly crafted Louis XV chair before a marble-tiled fireplace. He wore all white, as he had the day they had arrived at the palace, and his golden tan and sun-streaked hair shimmered in the firelight in sharp contrast to the elegant garb. He appeared perfectly at ease in this tastefully furnished room with its air of restrained European luxury. But then, Ruel always appeared confident and at ease wherever he was, she thought bitterly, be it pounding spikes in a torrent of rain, presiding at
the dinner table at the palace, or cooking bacon over a campfire in the middle of the jungle.
He rose to his feet and wrinkled his nose. “And, unfortunately, I not only see you, I also smell you.”
“I could hardly ride twenty-five miles in heat and dust and not smell of horse.” She closed the door. “If you don’t like it, I can leave.”
“Oh no, I was never one to forgo a meal because I had to prepare it myself. It makes the feast only more satisfying to know it’s been created to one’s exact specifications.” He stood up and moved across the room to-ward the lavender-and cream-colored brocade curtain that divided the room. “In fact, I anticipated this little problem. I had boiling hot water brought from the palace ten minutes ago.” He pulled aside the curtain to reveal a small area that appeared much larger due to the mirrors that graced all three walls. A royal-blue and white Chinese carpet gave only occasional glimpses of the polished oak floor and, across the room, a white satin spread covered a wide bed draped in diaphanous mosquito netting. He smiled faintly as he followed her gaze and then gestured to a hip bath filled with steaming water occupying the corner immediately to the left of the brocade curtain. “It’s fortunate you were on time, or the water would have turned cold.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered,” she said quietly. “I assume you’re going to watch me?”
Some indefinable emotion flickered across his face. “Most certainly.”
She sat down on a wide white satin-tufted chaise longue a few feet from the tub and took off her boots and wool socks. “I thought you would.”
“Why?”
“You want me to feel … exposed, humiliated.” She stood up and started unbuttoning her shirt. “It’s all a part of it.”
“How perceptive of you to realize that. Actually, I had in mind something else as well.” He paused. “A mistress is handled with a little too much delicacy. I thought I’d let you sample the joys of being treated as your mother was treated.”
She felt as if she had been kicked in the stomach. Her fingers clenched on the second button. “You did?”
“Can you think of a more fitting revenge? You surely didn’t think I’d beat you with a whip or strap you in an iron maiden? Remember when we discussed my aversion to snakes and I said everyone was afraid of something?” His gaze narrowed on her face. “Isn’t this what you fear most? To be a whore like your mother?”
“Yes,” she whispered. Slavery, submission, captivity. God, she should have known Ruel would have the instinct to strike her the cruelest blow possible.
“Well, aren’t you going to run away?”
For a moment she was wildly tempted, but that would be another defeat. “No.”
For an instant she thought she saw a flicker of disappointment in his expression, but she must have been mistaken, for he was now smiling mockingly. “Then, by all means, proceed. Your water is cooling.”
“Not yet.” She met his gaze. “I want your promise.”
“My promise?”
“When I leave here, we’re quits. I want your promise you’ll avoid coming to the site except when absolutely necessary.”
“I thought we’d already agreed on that.”
“I want your promise.”
He was silent a moment before he said curtly, “You have it.”
“Good.” She was acutely conscious of his eyes on her as she quickly stripped off the rest of her clothes and turned toward the tub.
“Wait. Turn around.”
She went rigid and then slowly turned to face him.
He was leaning against the wall, his gaze moving slowly over her. “You’re thinner than you were at Glenclaren. I couldn’t tell in those clothes.”
“I always lose weight when I work hard.”
His lips tightened. “I suppose that comment was made to make me feel guilty for forcing you to—”
“You didn’t force me. It was my choice.” She stared challengingly into his eyes. “And I almost beat you.”
He smiled faintly. “Yes, you did. But almost isn’t good enough.” His gaze moved down to the curls surrounding her womanhood. “Turn in a circle. Slowly.”
She felt heat suffuse her body but somehow managed to keep her expression blank as she obeyed him.
“Even though you’re thinner, your breasts are fuller than they were three years ago.”
“May I get in the tub now?” she asked jerkily.
“Not yet. Turn your back to me.”
Her teeth sank into her lower lip as she turned around and stood still, spine rigid.
“Marvelous buttocks.” His voice thickened. “Tight and firm … Do you remember the painting in the maharajah’s car?”
She felt like a slave on an auction block, like one of the whores in Frenchie’s tent. Slavery. Block it out, she told herself. She was giving him what he wanted; he was making her feel what he wished her to feel. “No, I don’t remember. Are you finished?”
“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Get into the tub.”
She quickly covered the few steps to the hip bath and the next moment thankfully sank into the soapy water. Don’t look at him. Just get it over with. The heady scent of jasmine and lemon drifted up to her from the water as she grabbed the sponge floating on the surface and began briskly rubbing her shoulders.
“Not so rough,” he said mockingly. “I don’t want you damaged.”
She stared blindly down at the water in the tub. “It’s not going to work. You’re going to be disappointed.”
“Am I?” His voice came from behind her. “Why do you think so?”
“I’m not going—” she paused as she felt his hands on her hair, quickly unloosening her braid—“to let you hurt me.”
“No?” His fingers moved through her braid from scalp to the ends of her hair, gently tugging and separating until it was in wild disarray around her shoulders.
Clever Ruel. The soft, silky hair brushing her flesh increased tenfold her feeling of vulnerability and womanliness. She moistened her lips. “I had time to think while I was riding here. I can stand anything for a few days.”
“Can you?” She could hear him moving behind her. “How do you know it will be for only a few days?”
“A few days,” she repeated firmly. “You’ll grow tired of it and go back to doing what’s important to you.”
“This is important to me.”
“Not like Cinnidar.”
“At times I’m not sure of that.”
“You’ll be certain when boredom sets in.” She rushed on. “And then I’ll go back and I’ll finish that railroad on schedule.”
“And what if your disobliging elephant pays you another visit?”
She had been trying not to think of that possibility. “Li Sung will see that Dilam guards against that happening. It was all I could do to keep him from rushing into the jungle after Danor.”
“I’ve noticed he appears a bit obsessed with getting rid of him.” He moved from behind her and seated himself on the chaise longue a few feet from the tub. “I sympathize. I understand obsession.”
He was naked, his thighs slightly parted to reveal bold arousal.
Her lungs constricted and she found herself unable to look away from his lower body. Soon that part of him would be joined to her, he would be moving in and out, and she would feel that helpless bonding she had first known in the maharajah’s railway car. This time he would not be careful of her and she should be frightened. She was frightened, but there also existed that dark fascination he always held for her.
“I assume Li Sung will send a message if there’s any further trouble?”
“What?” She managed to pull her gaze away from him and looked down at the water again. “I don’t expect any more problems.”
“Danor seems to do the unexpected. Lift your breasts. I want to see the water glisten on them.”
Her hand tightened on the sponge.
“Anything I want, I believe you said,” he reminded her softly. “I’m perfectly willing to guide
you in this, but you do have a promise to keep.”
She closed her eyes tightly and dropped the sponge. Her hands reached up to cup the undersides of her breasts.
“That’s right.” His voice was closer, beside her now. “Higher. Now offer them to me. Good …”
His lips closed on her nipple.
She gasped and her eyes flew open. His mouth was enveloping her breast, but his light eyes were fastened on hers, watching her expression as he slowly sucked and bit at the sensitive tip. The muscles of her stomach clenched in instinctive response as sensation after sensation rippled through her. “Now keep quite still and I’ll give you a reward for obedience.” His hands were beneath the water, probing, finding. She gasped as his thumb began to press and rotate on the tiny nub. Hot, explosive splinters of sensation rippled through her with every motion. His other hand moved still farther down as he murmured, “Don’t tighten up.”
She couldn’t help it. One finger. Two. Three. She arched back against the tub, her hands gripping the porcelain sides as his fingers plunged deep, out, in, fast, slow, in a rhythm that caused her to bite her lips to keep from crying out. He finally sat back on his heels. “Very good.” His chest was lifting and falling with the harshness of his breathing. “Perhaps a little too good. I’m growing impatient. I believe we’ll put an end to this first lesson. We’ll have plenty of time for others.” He stood up and reached for the large towel on the chaise longue. “Stand up.”
She didn’t know if she could stand. Her knees were shaking, her entire body was shaking with the effort not to reveal her response to him.
“Up.” Ruel didn’t wait for her to obey but jerked her out of the tub and into the folds of the towel. He cast a quick glance at the bed. “Too far.” He dropped back down on the chaise longue. “I can’t—wait.”
His fingers were searching, adjusting, drawing her limbs on either side of his hips. His hands cupped her buttocks and jerked her forward, impaling her to the quick.
She cried out as she felt the warm, hard length in the depths of her. Heat. Tightness. Hunger. No, not hunger, let it not be hunger.
He was moving, bucking, keeping her sealed tight but making her feel every inch, every sensation. Her nipples were hardening against his chest, she realized in despair. “Hold me tighter,” he muttered, punctuating every word with a thrust. “Give—me—more.”
The Tiger Prince Page 36