For the rest of the day, she avoided all the places Vadyn might be: the clans’ meeting hall, the training grounds, the Elders’ office, the baths, his war room, and the mess hall. Then, later that night, she sought him in all of those same places. But he was nowhere to be found. Finally, she whirled about and snagged one of the fierce lieutenants that she could have sworn was shadowing her footsteps throughout the whole day. “Where is the damned el’kota?”
The guard’s brows rose. “Ly’teal?” He blinked with his broad forehead crinkled, and she realized that if, in truth, this was the same lieutenant that had been following her all day, then he wouldn’t know where Vadyn was either. She took a deep breath, swallowed her anger, and spoke as sweetly as she could through her tightened throat.
“Go find where the warlord has gone. He may have need of you.” She didn’t wait for his reply. She just slammed the door to their quarters and began pacing again. Moments later, a timid knock sounded on the door. She jerked it open, but it was only Arrowin.
“Do you wish a bath brought here, my lady?” She already held fluffy towels in her brown arms. Again, Cayla hated to disappoint the hopeful look in the handmaiden’s eyes.
“Yes,” she sighed. “That will be fine, Arrowin. But you won’t need to stay with me.” She was glad she didn’t need to visit the public baths, and she surely didn’t want company. Besides, she had never had a handmaiden to wait upon her before.
The brown dipped her head and lost her slight smile. Cayla realized that the little female really did want to do her handmaidenly duties. But Cayla didn’t know how to treat servants, especially ones she had played with as a child. What were the division lines now? Her mother had never allowed herself the luxury of servants for herself or her children, whether out of the need for privacy or because she had never had them when she’d lived on Earth. But Cayla was Kasara’s ly’teal; she owed Arrowin the courtesy of letting her do her duties, and, maybe, just maybe, she could learn what some of those duties were, too. “Oh, fine, stay. I may need you, Arrowin.” The female looked up at Cayla, hope brightening her face.
“Yes, mistress?”
“Perhaps you will stay long enough to wash my hair?”
“Oh, yes, my lady! Of course.” Her handmaiden clapped her hands like she had been granted a great gift. She fairly danced to the door, opened it, and motioned. “Quickly, come!” Several strong male browns carried a heavy tub inside while others labored to lift steaming buckets, emptying them efficiently.
Cayla gave a wry grin. “I see you came prepared, Arrowin.”
The female dipped her head in a graceful, shy nod. “I had hopes, my lady.”
“Then I will not disappoint you.” Scant moments later, she sank in soapy luxury and rested her head back under Arrowin’s massaging fingers. Tension eased, and a languid feeling of peace crept over her. She never liked the keep’s public bathing area so oft frequented by the warriors. She vaguely heard the door open, but before she could speak, Arrowin asked, “More hot water for a rinse, my lady?” Ah, the thought did appeal.
“Surely.” She nodded, keeping her eyes closed as Arrowin poured warm, rose-scented water in a cleansing rinse over her head. She heard the door close again and settled back. Arrowin kept massaging and patting her hair. “Ummm,” she sighed. Contentment had never been so soothing. “You are certainly a very good handmaiden.”
A deep voice answered, “Don’t tell my warriors that.”
She squealed in outrage, but Vadyn’s big hands kept her shoulders pinned to the back of the tub. Her kicking did nothing but splash water everywhere while he just laughed. How dare he show up and take such liberties! The sneaky bastard! She should have felt his thoughts. She probably would have if she hadn’t been so relaxed. She jerked and shrugged his hands away. “Let me go.”
“Never,” he muttered before giving an exasperated sigh. “Oh, for the gods’ sake, stop that, Cayla.” He forced her to stay in place with his tight grip on her shoulders. “I’m just helping you with your bath, not stealing your precious virtue.” As if she had any left, she snorted but couldn’t bring herself to speak. When she stopped struggling, he let go of her and toweled her hair with a light impersonal touch. His voice was just as light and impersonal. “I understand you were looking for me?”
“Do you have guards following me?” She turned her head to scowl at him over her shoulder. The area around his eyes crinkled, and he grinned at her. Then suddenly, his gaze narrowed. His proud face lost what little humor it had fleetingly contained. Lines bracketed his mouth. And for a moment, she mourned the loss of teasing gaiety. He never smiled much anymore. And he used to, frequently, when her parents lived. Now, she swore he had more worry lines than laugh lines around his mouth. But his voice remained neutral, his thoughts hidden from her.
“After what happened at Omajar—at the oasis—our lieutenants have taken it upon themselves to provide guards for both of us day and night. But, do not fret—they dog my steps as well as yours.” He stood and stretched out a bathing blanket toward her. “Here.” He jiggled it when she didn’t move. She just stared up at him. What did he have on his devious mind? She couldn’t read him. Surely he didn’t think she’d just rise naked from the tub? He frowned then rolled his eyes. “Get out of there before you catch a chill, Cayla.” One brow rose. “Or are you afraid?” The way his voice dropped made her recall when he had said those same words in her ear. She shivered but not from cold. The arrogance of him!
She surged up, water again splashing against and over the tub’s sides. The air cooled the trickles that cascaded down her limbs. Her nipples puckered from the chill and more. She straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and met Vadyn’s gaze—except he wasn’t looking. With his eyes properly lowered, he calmly wrapped her in the big towel then graciously offered his hand to help her over the side. She ignored him and hopped out, clutching the towel. He didn’t even comment. He just began stripping off his arm and wrist bands. When finished, he placed first one foot up on the tub’s side and stripped off his boot then did the same to the other. When he reached for the silk that wrapped his waist, she whirled and turned her back. Arrogant ass. Her cheeks blazed hot, but she stalked over to his big bed without looking back. Still turned from him, she deliberately dropped the towel and jerked her nightshift over her head. When she peeked, Vadyn was calmly sitting in the tub inspecting a scab on his elbow. “Aaargh!”
His gaze jerked to her, and he dropped his arm back into the water. “Did you call?”
Without a word, she threw herself into bed and jerked up the covers to her chin. The damned fool could shrivel up and melt before she would speak to him. He had kept her worrying all day. She wasn’t even aware of falling asleep.
A warm mouth nuzzling her breast aroused her from a disturbing sexual dream. Still not wholly awake, she cradled his head and hugged his wide shoulders. She moved closer to his heat. Clever fingers delved in the wet lips of her sex. She heard the slickness of their sliding in and out, felt the sweet ache building just as it had done in her dream. Internal muscles worked and released. A moan escape her lips as she arched up against a hard palm that pushed her pelvis back down, cupping her sex. Taut thigh muscles slid over her, and a heavy leg rested between her thighs, replacing his fingers and leaving her breathless. Gods, she ached so badly! She wrapped her legs around his and crossed her ankles. His thigh slid up against where she throbbed, and she rubbed against it. As if ignorant of her desire, he moved his mouth to her other breast, taking his time. His tongue circled and his teeth nipped. And, all the while those clever fingers kept tweaking her other nipple. She squeezed her knees around his thigh, and a bubble of moisture escaped between her legs. Another moan slipped from her control. She moved restlessly, yearning for him to touch her there, to slip inside and rub the ache that was now a throbbing demand. Nearly on top of her thought, his hand moved from her breast, trailed down her waist and
slipped back between the swollen lips of her sex. “Ahhh . . .” A sigh escaped her mouth, and she arched up to meet his thick fingers. Not thick enough! His mouth moved from her breast, and he sucked her neck softly before claiming her mouth. He tasted raw, wild, and yet sweet at the same time. She refused to open her eyes even though she knew she was no longer asleep. She fisted a hand in his silken hair and kissed him back, desperate to hold the mind-stealing passion.
“Look at me,” he growled. He cupped the back of her head and gently shook her. “You are awake, Cayla. Either you admit that you want me—” His fingers tweaked inside her, and she could not hold the moan that escaped against his lips. His breath blew hotly on her mouth. “—admit your desire for me, or I stop right now.” His thoughts remained shuttered as he waited.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she breathed.
He moved back and a chill brought gooseflesh over her. She shivered and jerked her eyes open. She pulled him closer with her wrists locked behind his back. She dared him to break loose. He waited patiently. “Say it.”
“Fine. Fine. I want the great warlord of Kasara to fuck me.” She glared at him. “Happy now?” For a moment, his molten gaze blazed at her through narrowed eyes then he threw his head back and unexpectedly roared laughter to the ceiling. He shook his head and purred softly.
“Cayla, whatever am I going to do with you?”
Relieved that he didn’t toss her away, she showed him what he could do, moving against him, grinding her pelvis against his massive leg. Wetness coated his skin; even she could smell her desire. She pushed all other thoughts aside. In case he didn’t understand her unspoken message, she said, “Well, one thing you could do for me, warlord, is to finish what you started.”
But, before the sheets had even time to cool, she sprang from their bed and began pacing again. He didn’t push her; he just stifled his groan and turned his back. Every time he thought he gained a little affection from her, she snatched it away. But, flashbacks of their passion made him hard again. And, truth be told, he was beginning to get used to being rock hard all the time in this game of cat and mouse. A smile curved his lips. In fact, he was beginning to enjoy the chase—and he definitely enjoyed the play. Cayla slammed his head from behind with a pillow. He chuckled, tucked it under his arm, and for the first time in what seemed like weeks, he slept contented.
Cayla slept hardly at all. She feared closing her eyes and facing the truth. She wanted the warlord in spite of his bloodthirsty nature and his violent past. But she admitted that she was still afraid of him. Those violent thoughts of his that she had glimpsed haunted her. She’d just have to keep him at arm’s length or risk getting with child. If she did, she would never break away. But did she even want to? Tomorrow, she’d move a separate bed into these quarters. It was obviously too dangerous to sleep next to him. She thought she might have heard a snort, but when she looked, he was slightly puffing in sleep.
HER SECOND BED idea didn’t work. If she tried sleeping there, Vadyn would just sigh and pick her up and toss her into their bed. It didn’t matter what she said, how she reasoned, he just did what he wanted. During the day, she could avoid him, but the nights were different. He even ignored her fits of anger and often just chuckled at her. To him, their estrangement didn’t mean that they refrained from lovemaking. In fact, far from it. Vadyn initiated their intimacy as often as he could catch her off-stride. And he caught her in every corner he could find where he pressed his amorous suit with serious intent. To say that he took advantage of her passion-blinded confusion was a vast understatement. Damn him, he’d do whatever it took to ensure his heir and continued rule. Wouldn’t he? She cursed herself as well. Why did she succumb so easily? Was she so weak-willed? He seemed to be always watching her. She hated to admit that his heated looks only made her body betray her by aching for his touch. He languidly stalked her and breathed sex through his very pores. She felt him in every shadow she passed, behind every door she approached. And she damned herself for submitting like she was a sex-starved kitten, hot-blooded and willing. Her mind echoed with his mocking laughter. Damn him!
In truth, Vadyn was stalking Cayla. Only when they were in the throes of sexual contact was she free from doubts about their joining. He took full advantage of every opportunity to keep her off balance with his physical demands. But he didn’t do it to ensure an heir. Above all others, past or present, human or Kasar, he cherished Cayla. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined love could be like this. All the years spent on the outside, experiencing only a small part of Elizabeth’s feelings for Logan—the half-life never prepared him for this overwhelming joy, this tenderness. She was definitely maturing in their love. By all the gods, he would certainly kill to protect this feeling.
Finally free for a few hours from advisors and planning, he drew Cayla back to their bed with just a long look and a gentle touch. Whether she admitted it or not, she was becoming more responsive, but like a half-broke lyr-syn, he had to be careful not to spook her. Slowly, he ran a finger down from her naked shoulder to her wrist. She trembled under his touch. “Don’t,” she said half-heartedly and pulled closer toward her side of the bed, further away from him. He knew she pretended to feel nothing. His groin tightened with what she was actually feeling.
“Don’t what?”
Cayla looked at him over her shoulder. No one should look so innocent and so devilish at the same time. Damn him! She fumed. She longed to smack that masculine smirk off his face. How could just his soft touch make her melt inside? As if he knew her thought, and he did, he smiled a little wider and circled her breast with the edge of an extended talon. It scraped with sharpness. Tingles almost made her taut nipples hurt. She drew in a hissed breath. Such danger lay within that curved claw. She knew from shared memories the damage it could do. He hushed her, and she shuddered again but for a different reason. Her nipples puckered more, and moisture pooled in the apex of her legs. She squeezed her knees together. Damn it! Every time she lay with the warlord, she risked just what she refused—an offspring. She ground her teeth. The damned Elders wouldn’t force her. Hell, even Vadyn didn’t force her. Oh, no, he just seduced her with his gentle touches that held such thrilling danger—darkest danger that compelled her as well as any siren’s song. She was sure he was reading her through their shared mind-link no matter how hard she tried to shield herself. Oh, by the gods, he felt so good! She moved restlessly, and he drew her closer to his warmth. His body was so attuned to her every move. She thrust back against the length of him, and he responded by closing his teeth against her neck. Without breaking the skin, he nipped. Those sharp-edged fangs tingled but never hurt her. She trembled harder. He sucked her shoulder, drawing her skin into his mouth in a way that made her wish he was between her legs. She turned to him with a moan and arched up into his probing fingers. He pressed them inside her, but not nearly deep enough to touch her ache. She rose higher against them, squeezing her legs.
Vadyn lost himself in sweet sensation. How good she smelled. She carried a mixture of himself and that special, warm femaleness that was all her own. She smelled like sex. Could he hope that she wanted him fully? All of him—body, mind, and soul? Tentatively, he let down his mind barriers. Desire struck him a full body blow, and he reeled back from the intensity. Her compelling need hit him with a force like a fist to his guts. She might say “don’t” but she did want him. He fanned over her nipple with his palm and watched her pupils enlarge until black overtook the blue edge of her eyes. She swam in fragrant sexual heat. Her eyes held his gaze, and her fingers played over his chest. She scraped a fingernail over one of his flat nipples and sucked in her breath at the same moment he did. With knowledge of each other’s thoughts and feelings, their hands roamed, their lips claiming hidden tender spots until not one inch of their bodies held any secrets. It wasn’t long before an all-out body assault drove them to complete their desire.
After long moments lying still nex
t to each other, spent in blissful recovery, Cayla spoke aloud. “I used to dream about this, but I never imagined it could be like this.” She stretched her slim, white arms above her in lazy, feline grace. This was the longest they had remained close after loving. Perhaps she was beginning to accept him. He was afraid to breathe let alone to speak. They had actually loved long and deep into the next day, so unlike the usual Kasar single coupling when the female came into season and so unlike Cayla’s former quick skittishness. Sated and secure for the moment, she snuggled back into his loose embrace. Her warm breath fanned his chest. He feared to move and spoil the moment. She snuggled against him like a Belerian kitten, he mused, a small tigress filled with hidden fire. In the afterglow, he didn’t bother hiding his thoughts. He didn’t know she remained so close in his mind.
“Oh, you think I’m a tiger now, do you?” She pressed against his side, chuckled, then stiffened. “But do you love me for just me? Not—no one else?” Again her thoughts grew shadowed as she gathered them closer around her. Unbridled desire was subsiding. He mourned its passing. He tightened his hug, afraid she’d leave. He even fought an unusual shakiness in his voice.
“You know I do. You need not ask about my love for you.” He took her hand, “You can feel it here.” He placed her palm over his heart, and then he moved it to his forehead. And here, he spoke through their connection, then he pressed her fingers against his groin and growled deep in his throat, “And definitely, here.”
Thankfully, she laughed in real mirth, and they struggled, tickling each other and shrieking playfully. An abrupt knock to their door jerked them apart. Their joyful moment vanished at the sound. Cayla drew her shell closer around her and pulled away from him. He hid the sharp bite of his temper. Why must they always be on the verge of a breakthrough only to be interrupted?
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