Gabby trumpeted, loud and demanding, and Luke’s head jerked up. He yapped back and cantered over to her and Camryn, a child still clinging to his back.
Ry shifted and stalked over to them. “You could have told me you’d done that before.”
“Where is your shirt?” Camryn’s voice was faint, her gaze traveling over his chest and the tight trews that left nothing to imagination.
“I was…hot,” Ry said, enjoying the play of color across her cheeks.
“There are children present,” she said.
“They don’t seem worried about my absent shirt.” And it was true since they wore fewer clothes than he did.
“Um, we’ve found Luke.”
“I can see that. I think we’ve also found a solution to getting Gabby to run fast in the heats. We’ll take Luke to the finishing post, and she’ll go crazy trying to get to her foal.”
“Good idea.” Camryn didn’t take her attention off his face, and he noticed the clench of her fingers in Gabby’s mane while the mare nuzzled her foal.
Ry smothered a satisfied chuckle. “I’ll bring Luke.” He strode over to the foal and scratched him behind the ears. “Off you get,” he said to a grinning child. He noticed several adults had appeared and waved at them before lifting the child from Luke’s back. With a tap on the foal’s rump, he sent Luke scuttling to Gabby and Camryn. Gabby yapped and, at Camryn’s urging, trotted toward their camp with Luke following. Ry strode after them, keeping his gaze on Camryn’s straight back. He looked forward to arriving back at camp.
“Dancing practice,” Mogens said when they had Gabby and Luke safely back in the pen. “We have to practice before dinner or we’ll run out of time before the ball for the Dowry Derby. Ry said you should all learn to dance so you can interact with the other entrants. Maybe pick up some insider knowledge.”
“No way. Not me,” Jannike said.
An alarmed expression hit Kaya. “Don’t look at me. I’m a fighter not a dancer.”
“You’re all learning,” Ry said. “I need you to charm the opposition, worm info from them. That won’t happen if you can’t dance. Information is knowledge, and it might help us win the Derby. We need every advantage we can find against my brother.”
“Ry, music please,” Mogens said. “Where’s Nanu. He can help.” His robes rustled when he hurried into the tender.
“Do we have to?” Camryn asked.
“Yes.” Ry hummed while stepping a square with Camryn.
Soon laughter rippled through the campsite, accompanied by giggles from the village children who turned up to watch them stumble around a pretend dance floor. At last Mogens pronounced himself satisfied with their progress.
“My feet are sore,” Kaya said.
“You put them in the wrong place,” Nanu said. “Ry is the mindreader. Not me.”
“I didn’t stand on anyone and my feet are sore,” Jannike muttered. “I’m only doing this because we have to.”
“Me too,” Camryn said.
Ry smirked at the three females but was wise enough not to comment. “Whose turn is it to cook dinner?”
Mogens frowned at the clouds. Ry noticed they had turned to a delicate gray to match the seer’s current skin tone. “The course of action you have chosen is doomed. Someone will die. I will cook,” he said in an abrupt change of subject. “Kaya will burn dinner.”
They dined on a rabbitlike creature cooked over a spit and fish grilled on the embers of an open fire along with a selection of green leaves and herbs, reminding Camryn of lettuce. Kaya made flat bread to bake on the fire. A meal fit for kings after the endless ration pouches they’d consumed since leaving the Indy. Camryn licked the grease from her fingers and gave a happy sigh until she realized Ry watched her again. Ever since this afternoon when they’d arrived back from the races to find Luke missing, he’d eyed her with the same look. Sort of hungry and determined. It brought nerves to the surface and the cat tattoo that had appeared on her shoulder had started to ache something fierce. Every time she moved, the fabric of her tunic brushed across the leaping cat, igniting nerves and bringing sexual awareness. Jittery, she cursed under her breath, saying a word her brother would’ve objected to if he’d overheard.
Gabriel wouldn’t have liked it much better but the curse summed up her simmering frustration. The more Ry stared, the edgier she became. Her body tingled in an outrageous manner, her nipples swelled and pulled to achy nubs. Her skin prickled each time she moved and she suffered for it. She squirmed and glowered at Ry, trying to ignore the heat emanating from her weird tattoo. It didn’t make a jot of difference. His wolfish grin brought a rush of arousal. Oops, wrong predator. His big, bad feline grin told her if she didn’t run he’d pounce.
Camryn shot to her feet. “I’m tired,” she blurted. “I’m going to bed.” She bolted, heading to the area where she’d set up her bedding. It wasn’t there.
“Looking for something?” Ry prowled from the darkness and damn if he didn’t look like he wanted dinner.
“My bedding. I think Luke has dragged it away again.”
“For once the foal is innocent.” The glint in Ry’s eyes didn’t diminish. Camryn took a step back, a frisson of alarm trickling down her spine. Mind and instincts warred. She would not touch and give in to her base needs. She would not.
“I don’t understand.” A lie. She understood all too well.
“I’ve arranged some privacy for us. I wanted to…talk.”
Another quick glance at his face told Camryn he didn’t have talking on his mind. “The others will think it’s strange. And it’s very high-handed of you!”
“No, they won’t. Come.” He held out his hand and waited patiently for her to decide on a course of action.
Desire tingled through her limbs, despite the lecture she gave herself every morning about Gabriel, about returning home. Camryn pulled memories of Gabriel to mind with difficulty—his twinkling blue eyes, gentle smile and full head of springy gray curls. His dimple that appeared whenever he smiled and the scent of his fragrant citrus aftershave. She tried to hold the image, almost crying when it flickered and faded, overlaid with Ry’s dominant face and personality.
And during the entire internal struggle the tattoo throbbed, subtly nudging her to go to him, to beg him to rub his fingers across the achy flesh. She trembled with the need, hating herself for the weakness.
Ry grasped her shoulders with his big hands. “Why the frown? You like being with me.” His fingers caressed and upped the temptation, increasing her inner battle.
Camryn yanked from his seductive touch and edged away, her pulse galloping. To her shame he spoke the truth. Somehow he’d turned into her drug of choice, her crutch to use instead of alcohol. His presence and his touch…
The damn tattoo! She’d never felt this intense hunger until the cat had appeared on her shoulder. There was something dreadfully wrong with her, to let the kitty overwrite the special memories she held of Gabriel, the special ones she held close to her heart.
“I shouldn’t. You’re not good for me.” Well! Her weak tone certainly told him, put him in his place. Not.
“Ah, but together we’re perfect.” His husky voice brought another surge of sensual awareness. Her heart did a little change up in gear, and although her head told her to run, she remained rooted to the spot. He reached her side, before her mind overruled her needy body, and cupped her face with one hand. Ry traced her lips with his thumb, eliciting a shudder of desire. She gasped and his thumb slipped inside her mouth. “Separately we’re misfits, you and I. Together we’re right. Just perfect.”
Camryn attempted to deny, her tongue flicking across his thumb. Ry froze. His eyes glowed in a supernatural way, and her resolve weakened even further. He removed his thumb from her mouth, started on her clothes, one item at a time.
She stood passive, shivering at the lazy trail of kisses across her collarbone, the stroke of fingers across the curve of one cheek. He nibbled at the cords of her neck and peeled away her tunic. His
large hands cupped her breasts, lifted them to his mouth. Suckled. Camryn sighed at the warm tug of his lips. She’d stop him soon.
In a minute.
But it didn’t happen. Her need rose to urgency. She shuddered, swallowing while heat suffused her body. It emanated from the cat tattoo on her back, drawing her to him.
“I’m going to take you, taste your sweet juices then fill you with my cock.”
She found herself naked, stretched out on her bedding and on the verge of begging him to hurry, to fuck her. She didn’t need any preliminaries. Ry stripped off his shirt, leaving his chest bare and loomed over her. Her pulse raced and she reached up to stroke his back, savoring his hiss of pleasure when she ran her fingers across the swirling black marks covering his back and chest.
“Please,” she murmured, the begging in her voice stark and clear.
“I intend to please you, sweet,” he purred.
And he set about proving it. Each touch, each brush of his fingers teased her higher, made her want him more. A small voice at the back of her mind reminded her this was wrong. Gabriel. But her husband drifted away when Ry smoothed his hand over her tattoo. She sought his mouth, luxuriating in his lips against hers, hard and demanding a response.
“Please touch me.” Camryn stirred restlessly, wanting more. Needing it. An addict for his touch.
“I want to take my time and savor you.”
“Ry.” She packed every bit of desire she felt into his name, thrumming with urgency, the need to possess and be possessed. “Please touch me now.”
“Part your legs for me, Camryn.” He slid one leg between hers and pushed, thankfully understanding her urgent need.
“Yes,” she whispered, obeying immediately.
He lifted her bottom with his hands and kissed a trail of kisses over her inner thigh, drawing closer to her wet core. She tensed at the stroke of his tongue, sucked in a breath and released it on a moan. Chills raced across her flesh, a direct contrast to the fire whipping from every spot he caressed with his fingers and mouth. And her tattoo. That strange spot on her back felt as if it were on fire.
“Do that again,” she begged, feeling the liquid arousal of her body.
He repeated the move, a loud purr erupting. The feline sound jerked her to reality. Heck, what was she doing?
“When did Jannike join the crew?” she blurted. Yeah, that was it. Fight the feelings coursing through her body with small talk.
“We met during a bar fight. Ended up fighting on the same side.” His green eyes glowed when he glanced up at her. “You can ask me anything you want, but don’t you prefer me to pleasure you instead?”
His smile tugged deep in her belly, and breathless, she blinked at him. She didn’t know how he managed it. When they were together, all she could think of was making love—sex. Yeah, sex. That’s all it could be between them.
Ry dipped his head and made a slow pass with his tongue across her swollen flesh. He ran a finger down her slit and pushed it into her channel. “I know you want me as bad as I want you. It’s as sexy as hell.”
His dark voice unfurled a lick of heat despite his smug tone. She wriggled and the abrasion of her tattoo against the bedding brought a startled gasp.
“Ry.” She relaxed in silent permission for him to continue. Camryn couldn’t fight the escalating desire any longer. “Now. I need you inside me right now.”
He licked and sucked swollen folds and nerve endings, drove her high and hard. Quick flicks of his tongue. Seductive and lingering strokes. Either way it added up to pleasure.
“Ry,” she gasped, her climax crashing over her.
“You look so beautiful when you come, I just want to do it over again.” Ry shucked his remaining attire and moved up her body, thrusting inside her entrance even as the ripples contracted her vagina. He pistoned his hips, going deep while his lips and tongue invaded her mouth. He pushed her with each plunging stroke, their sweat-sheened chests sticking together until they both exploded, their cries of pleasure loud enough for the crew to hear.
Languid and relaxed they held each other, hands idly stroking. He purred, and damn if she didn’t want to purr as well. Great sex. Stupendous sex. But with the thought came a return to reality.
“Gabriel,” she whispered. She felt Ry tense and closed her eyes, realizing what she’d done. Guilt hit her hard, for leading Ry on and for sullying Gabriel’s memory.
“I’m not Gabriel. Look at me.”
She opened her eyes to stare at him in defiance.
“This is just sex,” she snapped, the anguish leaving only raw pride. “Nothing more. And when the racing is over, I’m going home. You promised.”
Ry glared, pulling away from her. He stood and moved his bedding.
“I love Gabriel.” Even though she said it in clear defiance, something made her want to take it back. Stubbornly, she kept her mouth shut. It was for the best. They had no future. Camryn tugged her bedding up to her chin, turned over and pretended to sleep. It was just sex. That’s all.
Chapter Ten
After the previous night’s argument, Camryn didn’t want to attend the ball. Ry insisted, despite the icy atmosphere between them. He’d also insisted that Kaya and Jannike attend, purchasing gowns for each of them. Exquisite gowns of the sort Camryn had read about in books set during the Regency period on Earth. The gowns were the same style although different colors to suit their complexions. They required a base garment beneath to yank in their waists and force their breasts upward.
“What was Ry thinking?” Jannike wheezed. “I can’t breathe. How the devil do I fight in this?”
“I don’t believe you’re meant to fight,” Mogens said in his dry way. “It’s a ball. You’re meant to dance.”
“We can always poke out eyes with our fingernails,” Kaya said cheerfully.
“Or stomp on people’s feet,” Camryn added. “Although maybe one look at our hands will do the trick.” She held them up for inspection. “I scrubbed for half an hour and couldn’t remove the dirt.”
“True. My fingernails might work.” Jannike lifted the skirts of her long hunter green gown to inspect one shoe. “The shoes don’t look robust enough for kicking. I’ll need to stick to stomping.” She scratched the back of her neck, unused to the ornate hairstyle as much as the unaccustomed finery.
“This is a dance,” Ry said sternly from the doorway of the hotel room they’d rented. “There won’t be any need to fight.”
Camryn scowled on hearing his voice, her mouth dropping into a distinct gape on seeing him. Dressed in black, he wore a fitted jacket with breeches and stockings. The only relief was the sparkling silver design on his waistcoat. When Camryn scrutinized the pattern, she recognized the spirals and whorls as those of his tattoo. On his feet, he wore highly polished shoes with shiny buckles. He grasped an ornate walking stick with a silver cat head in his right hand while a black ribbon tied back his dark hair in a queue.
“Huh! Tell that to my gut,” Jannike said. “It’s bouncing fast enough to spin thread.”
“Because you haven’t attended a dance before,” Mogens said. “You’ll enjoy it. I’ve shown you how to dance and know you will acquit yourselves with decorum.”
Kaya shrieked with laughter. “Mogens, you sound like my stepfather.”
“Fine,” Jannike said, reaching behind her back to unfasten her gown. She scowled at Mogens. “You go in my place if you think it will be so much fun. I’d like to see you decked out in this cage thing. I can’t breathe!”
Mogens drew himself up tall. “I do not wish to attend the ball. It is your destiny, not mine.”
“What! Don’t tell me,” Jannike said, holding her right hand to her forehead. “You read the clouds and they said my attendance is necessary.”
“Quite so,” Mogens replied, unruffled by Jannike’s sarcasm.
“Think of it as an assignment,” Ry suggested. “I need you to circulate. Dance with as many of the other contestants as possible. Smile. Bat your eyes
and ask questions. Do not leave the ballroom, and don’t eat or drink anything unless it comes from a plate or bottle everyone else eats or drinks from.”
He handed them gloves to match their dresses and waited for them to draw them on before nodding with satisfaction. “Perfect. We need to collect information tonight. Information is knowledge.”
“This ball is a wicked waste of currency,” Jannike grumbled, tugging at the bodice of her green dress.
“Perhaps,” Ry said, “but necessary. I want to know what my brother is up to.”
The time marker tolled eight.
“It is time,” Mogens said.
“Are you all set for your mission?” Ry asked.
“I am,” Mogens said. “I have arranged a job in the cloak room.”
“Camryn, a word? We’ll be with you in a few mins,” he added to Mogens.
The seer’s color flickered, edging toward black as he ushered Jannike and Kaya from the hotel room.
“My brother will be in attendance tonight. Don’t let him get you alone.” Ry brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. Her mind told her to step away. Her body disobeyed. She shivered under his delicate touch. “Talor hates me.” His expression hinted at pain, but all he said was, “You know what he’s capable of.”
“Your brother gives me the creeps. I hated the way he made me feel at the races, the urge to do what he wanted even though I didn’t want to obey. Believe me—I intend to stay away.”
Ry nodded with satisfaction. “Good.” He dipped his head to steal a kiss, caressing hers lips and demanding her response. Camryn fought the desire that burst to life inside, fought to hold on to her anger, fought to remain impassive. She called up Gabriel’s image, and again the memory blurred, overlaid with Ry’s vitality. He refused to let her hold back or hide. His lips dominated while he gently cradled her head. With his tongue, he traced her bottom lip. Her heart thundered and a mew of need escaped, her nipples tender against the stiff bodice of her gown. She inhaled through her nose as much as her corset would allow and quickly wished she hadn’t attempted to breathe. His scent, so seductive and full of memories, hurled temptation her way.
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