Lone Star Magic

by Karen Whiddon

  Carly stuck in her foot, grinning up at him. “This really is warm. Unbelievable. There must be a hot spring nearby.”

  Momentarily struck dumb by her smile, Alrick looked down, concentrating on his own discomfort. “Warm, cold, I don’t care. It’s water.” He waded in and sat down, rubbing vigorously to help dislodge the mud.

  To his surprise, Carly splashed over and plopped down beside him to help.

  “You don’t have to do this,” he said, feeling foolish and surprisingly awkward.

  She looked up at him, her long lashes coated with dust, using her small hands to scrub his shoulders. “I know.”

  Goddess help him – she looked beautiful. Even with her long red hair dusty in its artless braid, even with her pale skin glowing red from the wind and the sun, even with her freckles standing out all over her body, he found her breathtakingly lovely. And sexy as hell.

  “Wash yourself first.” His voice sounded like he’d swallowed gravel. With a look of surprise, she nodded, then dunked her head under the water. She emerged a moment later, shaking her head like a dog, sending drops of water flying.

  “Feels great.” Her grin was back. “Try it.”

  Staring at her, her words barely registered. Her soaked shirt clung to her breasts, her faded jean shorts ended high on her athletic thighs, and he could imagine how the warm water caressed her.

  Shades of Lothar! How could he want her now, after all they’d just gone through? Yet, without her even trying and despite his discomfort from the mud, he felt his body stir with desire.

  Resolutely, he told himself he could ignore this. They had an agreement, an understanding. She was merely trying to help him, not arouse him.

  Yet oddly enough, he found this more difficult to resist.

  “Alrick?”

  He blinked, focusing on her face.

  “Try it.”

  Maybe a good dunking would help. He pushed his face under the water, rubbing his skin, came up for air, then went back again. Several times he did this, scrubbing the mud from his face and neck, dislodging dirt from his hair.

  When finally he felt clean enough, he sat up and shook himself all over, exactly as she had, finding himself grinning too. “This feels good.”

  “I know. Now sit up so I can get your back.”

  He obeyed blindly, busy cleaning his legs and feet. His clothing was filthy and he’d have to remove it eventually. So would she, come to think of it.

  At the thought of getting naked in the water with Carly, he hardened. Rock hard. Damn it.

  “Your back looks pretty clean,” Carly said. “I guess the wind got it. Turn around and I’ll help with your front.”

  Turn around? Suddenly, he knew if she put her hands on him again, he’d lose control. The thought was unbearable. And delightful. No. Impossible. Couldn’t happen.

  “No.”

  “What?” She resumed scrubbing his shoulder, moving down his arm. “Don’t be silly. You’ve got to get clean.”

  “Carly?” He cleared his throat. “Stop.”

  She stared at him before flicking a huge chunk of mud off his shoulder. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Twisting his body in the shallow water, he turned to face her. Over his shoulder, so she wouldn’t see the proof of his desire. He kept his gaze trained on her face, telling himself he wouldn’t look at the way her soaked t-shirt outlined her breasts, nor the way they rose with each breath she took. “I er, need you to leave.”

  “Leave?” She wrinkled her nose and leaned close to him. Close enough for him to count the freckles that marched across her face. Too close. His breath caught in his throat as she placed her hand on his forehead, his pulse jumping as though her touch electrified him.

  “Alrick, are you all right?”

  “No,” he managed, wishing he could lie. She leaned away from him and he found he could breathe again. He opened his eyes. “I have to get out of these leggings and this tunic. I don’t want you here when I’m naked.”

  She reared back, her puzzlement giving way to amusement. “I’m not gonna attack you. Remember? We have an agreement. Seriously, Alrick. What’s up?”

  If his arousal kept growing, she’d find out for herself in a moment. He resisted the urge to cover his manhood with his hand. Right now his upper body and still mud-encrusted leggings safely hid him from her gaze.

  He hoped.

  Carly shook her head. “Quit being ridiculous. Now let’s get this off you.” Noisily splashing in the shallow current, she pushed water against him with her hands. “Take off your shirt.”

  He froze. Then, realizing the absurdity of the situation, he undid the lacings and peeled the filthy tunic from his body, still keeping his back to her and looking at her over his shoulder. If she found this odd, she didn’t say.

  “Let me have it.” She held out her hand, so he tossed it to her. Dipping it into the water, she scrubbed it with her hands, using the rocks to help her. Then, when she was satisfied the thing was clean, she waded towards the bank to stretch the material over a nearby bush.

  Unfortunately, this presented him with the fetching sight of her perfect, rounded bottom, barely covered by her soaked shorts.

  The insistent throbbing in his blood became a roar.

  “Take off your pants.”

  He blinked. “What? What did you say?”

  She dropped back on her haunches and peered at him. “Earth to Alrick!” Snapping her fingers in front of his face, she grinned. “Are you in there?”

  He nearly groaned. She really had no idea how she affected him. Part of him was grateful. The other part – the hard, insistent part – demanded attention.

  “I’m here. What did you say?” he repeated.

  “Take off your pants. I want to clean them.” She plucked at his arm. “I’ll even turn away, if you want to be modest.”

  “Carly…”

  “I promise not to look.” Her smile faded as she read his expression.

  Finally. She looked at him. Really looked at him. Saw the naked longing in his face. Her expression changed, matched his. He waited for her gaze to drop lower.

  What the hell was he doing? Furious, heart pounding, he forced himself to turned away, splashing in the water like an angry bear. “Leave.”

  “Alrick—.” He heard he expel her breath. Breath she’d evidently been holding. She sent a spray of water at his back. “Quit acting weird.”

  “Just go.” Inhaling, he counted to ten.

  She made no move to leave. Instead she splashed water at him, harder and harder, as though she wanted to provoke a confrontation.

  Fine. Anger built inside him. Anger mingled with long denied desire, fueling both until he pushed himself to his feet in one unsteady motion. He undid the drawstring of his leggings and, turning to face her, yanked down his braes.

  “Holy sh…” Carly stared at his raging erection. Her mouth fell open. “So that’s why you…”

  He shook his head, unable to speak. He wanted her so bad he was shaking. Literally quivering with need. That hadn’t happened to him since he’d been … he tried to think, to remember. That hadn’t happened to him ever.

  He’d always been the one in charge, the one in control.

  Now this one human woman had him trembling with the desire to bury himself inside her.

  “Alrick, I…”

  “I’m sorry.” Fumbling with the material, he began to tug his leggings back up. “But I wanted you to see what you do to me.” He forced the words out past his clenched teeth. “This is why I asked you to leave. I want you, Carly. Again. Always. No matter what I tell myself, there’s no logic to my desire, no rhyme, no reason. I want you so badly I—,” he choked and clenched his jaw.

  She splashed over to him, kneeling in front of him. He gasped when she closed her small hand around the long, hard length of him.

  “I want you too,” she whispered. And then she lowered her mouth and took him inside.

  “Shades of Lothar.” He felt his eyes roll
back in his head. He felt himself swell even harder as she tasted him, caressed him, and stroked him with her tongue. And then, just when he thought he couldn’t last another second, she withdrew. He ducked his swollen manhood under the water, desperately seeking to regain control. But the tepid stream wasn’t cool enough and his flesh was so sensitive that he could scarcely bear his own touch.

  “Carly, please.” Though what he asked for, he could no longer say. He wanted her to leave, to run fast and far away from him, and he wanted her to stay. Oh, Goddess how he wanted her to stay.

  She backed away, never taking her eyes off him.

  “I need…” Shaking her head and sending water droplets flying, Carly yanked off her t-shirt and shimmied out of her shorts.

  Alrick couldn’t look away. He held himself, the warm water running through his fingers, and thought he might shame himself like some green boy.

  Ahhh, sweet green hills of Rigat! Think of something else. Think of something else.

  Still on her knees, Carly crawled towards him. Unconsciously seductive, she kept her gaze fixed on his face. He was grateful for that, for if she’d touched him there with even her eyes, he’d have no hope of regaining control.

  She grabbed his shoulders. Smiled sweetly. Then, her movement so smooth he didn’t see it coming, lifted herself up and settled back down on top of him, sheathing him deep inside her.

  He moaned.

  Water all around them, her liquid heat, his turgid flesh, nothing but sensation.

  She began to move. For one startled instant he forgot to breathe, his heart forgot to beat. Then, all at once, his blood came rushing back.

  “Ah, Carly. Sweet, sweet Carly.”

  “Shhhh.” Covering his mouth with hers, she kissed him.

  He opened his mouth for her and then, with her tongue inside him and with him deep inside of her, he lost the last shred of his control.

  As his seed filled her, she cried out and he felt her body shudder and clench around him. For one awful instant, he wondered what they had done. Then, as he held her close to his heart, Alrick decided he didn’t really care.

  They’d have to let the chips fall where they may.

  She tried to pull away. He wouldn’t let her. Instead, he tightened his arms around her, all the while wondered what the hell they were going to do now. The Mage would be furious. His father too. And Cenrick… Cenrick would probably say he’d found true love.

  He tightened his arms around her. Sniffling, her shoulders shook. She was crying. With shaking fingers he lifted her chin and made her look at him.

  “Don’t weep. Please.” Were he more like his brother, he’d find the right words to tell her how he felt. But he had always been more warrior than poet. All he could do was silently hold her, hoping she’d come to realize what they’d shared was more than ordinary.

  Now, finally, he understood what all the ballads and songs were about.

  “We’re different now.” She raised her ravaged face to his. In her eyes he saw a dark sorrow that pierced his heart.

  “Nothing’s changed.” Low-voiced, he uttered words that were the closest thing to a lie he’d ever spoken. “Nothing.”

  Shaking her head, she wiped at her eyes and gave him a tremulous smile. Despite the tears, despite her swollen eyes and reddened nose he still thought her the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Bar none.

  His chest tightened.

  “You’re wrong, Alrick of Rune,” she said softly. “Everything’s changed. We can’t go back to what we were before.”

  Though in his heart he knew she was right, he made himself lean forward and kiss the tip of her nose. “If there’s been a change, we can only hope it’s for the better.”

  Later that day, when they’d found a place to stop for the night, Carly approached Alrick. She hated the wary look that came over him whenever she looked at him. Yet she couldn’t really blame him. What had happened between them had been… explosive. The lovemaking they’d shared made her want things she hadn’t wanted from a man since Liam. She wanted to sit by Alrick’s side and rest her head on his shoulder. To stroke his hair, kiss the side of his neck, trail her fingers down his chest. She wanted the right to touch him whenever she wanted, wherever she wanted. God help her, if Alrick were to give her that right, she didn’t think she’d ever stop touching him.

  Destiny. For the first time she allowed herself to wonder if Alrick were her destiny. Her hand strayed to her abdomen, forming a protective cradle. As if… This very day, they might have created a baby.

  Alrick could very well be the father of the child who’d save Rune’s future.

  Looking at him, she forced herself to see beyond the handsome man she’d come to know and care for. He was Fae; more than that, royalty. His own destiny lay shining before him and she could not, would not, take that from him.

  She had to prepare herself for a life without him.

  “May I see your sword?”

  Back to her, Alrick froze. A second later, the double meaning of her question struck her as funny. She choked back a chuckle.

  “Beg pardon?” Turning slowly, his polite expression made her want to shake him.

  Instead, she made herself smile politely. “I would like to learn to use your sword. That one.” She pointed to his scabbard, leaning against a knotty mesquite tree.

  He took a step back. “No. My sword is a powerful, Fae weapon. It would be dangerous in human hands.”

  Lifting her chin, she stared him down. “Not if you teach me. I want to defend myself.” Again her hand strayed protectively to her middle.

  Alrick followed the movement and his gaze darkened. “I see.”

  “No. You don’t see. If it’s going to be me and Lance against the world, I need to become a better fighter.”

  He crossed his arms. “For self-defense?”

  “That too. But I’m tired of running. The next time the Warlord shows his face, I want to take him down.”

  “How can you, when he never stays long enough? For Myrddin’s sake, don’t you think I would kill him if I could?”

  “Still, I want to be prepared. What I’m saying is that I don’t want to be a passive victim. If I had my old Winchester rifle, I’d feel better. But I don’t have it. So give me a weapon. Teach me to us it. If something happens to you, don’t leave me unarmed.”

  “You don’t like blood.”

  “True. I still don’t. But if it’s to be me or him…” She moved closer. This time, he didn’t retreat. Another step brought her near enough to touch him, as she’d been longing to do all day. But she didn’t want to be distracted by his body, not now. She wanted answers. Instead of caressing him, she poked him in the chest. “Well? What do you say?”

  “The only weapons I have are my crystal sword and my crossbow.”

  Not an outright dismissal. She took heart from that. “Then those are what I need to learn to use.”

  His nostrils flared. “I doubt you could even lift the crossbow.”

  “You’re probably right.” She conceded the point with a slight smile. “But I can hold your sword.”

  “Barely. The crystal is heavier than it looks.”

  “If I use two hands, I can do it.” Back to square one.

  “The sword never leaves my side.”

  “Then get me one of my own.”

  “Get you a…? How do you suggest I do that?”

  “You have magic. Send to Rune for a woman’s sword. Surely your women have weapons of their own.”

  “Of course they do.” Running a hand through his shaggy hair, he looked bemused. “But if I use magic, we’ll have to deal with the weather.”

  “So? We’ve dealt with the weather before.”

  He tried again. “Magic will let the Warlord know exactly where we are.”

  “He seems to find out irregardless.” Carly shrugged.

  “Have you ever killed anything? Hunted, fished?”

  Slowly, she shook her head. “Well, no. But there’s always a first
time. At least think about it.”

  “Tomorrow,” he said finally, turning back to TM and the stone he’d honed to use to clean the horse’s hooves. “We’ll see about arming you tomorrow.”

  When Carly awoke the next morning, shivering, the temperature had dropped at least sixty degrees. Snow swirled from the summer sky, a freak phenomenon sure to make the history books – snow in Texas in June. Brushing herself off, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. Partially covered in snow, a shining crystal sword lay on the ground next to her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ALRICK WAS furious. Illogical, yes. Irrational and unrealistic, he knew. But how dare the mage send Carly a sword without first consulting Alrick? He scanned the sky, looking for Tinth. If he saw that blasted bird now, he’d pick it out of the sky with one of his arrows.

  “Don’t sulk.” Still beaming, Carly hefted her sword above her for the tenth time. The crystal glittered in the sunlight, like the blade was made of diamonds. “I love this. It’s perfect.”

  “You’re holding it wrong,” he growled.

  “Am I?” She adjusted her grip, still wrong. “Teach me. Better?”

  “No.” Before he thought about what he was doing, he’d already closed the distance between them and adjusted her grip. “Hold the hilt, here. Like that. Now swing.”

  She stepped back and swung gracefully. The sword whistled melodically as she sliced through the air.

  “You have about as much chance of hurting the Warlord with that as a mouse has against a hawk.”

  Laughing at him, she hefted the weapon again. “Better this than nothing.”

  Despite the sudden chill and the snow, he’d woken with a raging hard-on. Watching her lithe beauty now, holding a weapon forged by one of his kind, filled him with a savage, desperate lust. A desire so familiar to him now, that even the rapid arrival of the sun and her glee over the Mage’s unexpected gift hadn’t been able to douse it. With the quick climb of the temperature back to the normal sultry heat, he performed his morning exercises at twice their pace, punishing himself with exertion and sweat.