by Diana Bold
There was one way to know for certain, but she hesitated to attempt such drastic measures. She’d never used her gift of mind-delving on someone from the Surface. If he slept, she might be able to enter his mind without his knowledge, but if he was still awake, he’d immediately sense the intrusion, and then he’d look upon her as a witch or worse.
Dare she try it?
Time slipped slowly by and still he did not move. Tension coursed through her as she considered her dwindling options. It would be dawn in a matter of hours. If she didn’t delve his mind now, she might never get another chance.
Deciding she had nothing to lose, but much to gain, she reached out with her thoughts, tentatively brushing the foreign territory that was Sebastian. A plethora of images and emotions buffeted her, and she reeled back, stunned and dismayed.
She’d never encountered such a maelstrom. On the rare occasions when she’d delved the mind of one of her people, she’d found the same sort of order and control that ruled their days. Every thought and feeling compartmentalized in its proper spot, the whole as easy to read and interpret as Atlantis’ massive libraries.
Sebastian was anything but compartmentalized. She hugged her knees to her chest, wondering if she should try again.
Was it even possible to read such a primitive mind?
Perhaps, if she could bear the storm for a few moments longer, she could at least manage to discern whether he had lied about his motives for helping her.
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she reached out again.
This time, she was better prepared, and the assault of memory and emotion did not surprise her. She let it wash over her, trying to isolate the things she needed to know. But his mind did not work as hers did; the constant barrage of information confused and frightened her. Glimpses of past pain and horror flashed before her, but it was like staring into the sun; she couldn’t bear to look long enough to get a clear view.
Frustrated, she prepared to sever the link between them, but before she could, she found herself standing beside him in the middle of a battlefield, surrounded by blood and death, feeling his agony as though it was her own.
The images were so real, so different from her usual experience — she knew she had somehow slipped from his memories into his dreams. He was having a nightmare about the terrible slaughter, and she’d managed to join him there.
Unable to resist the urge to offer him comfort, she went to his side, taking his arm and trying to lead him away from the battle.
He resisted, holding out his bloodstained hands. “I cannot wash the blood away. I will never be able to wash it away.”
“Come with me. I’ll help you.”
He lifted his anguished green gaze. “What are you doing here? You are not supposed to be here. Is it not enough that you fill my waking mind? Must you invade my dreams as well?”
She blinked away a sudden rush of tears, both saddened and thrilled by his words. This thing between them was more powerful than she’d ever imagined, yet she could see no happy ending for them, only sorrow and regret.
“I’ve come to ease your pain. I want to help you. I only want to help you the way you helped me.”
“I do not even know your name,” he answered, though he allowed her to turn him away from the battle.
“My name is Rhoswen.” The reality of the dream made her heedless of the need for caution. Her name seemed important to him, and deep down she had to admit she’d been dying to hear the sound of it on his lips.
“Rhoswen,” he breathed, reverence filling his tone. “’Tis a beautiful name.”
With the smooth switch of time and place that characterized dreams, she suddenly found herself in the shower of her living quarters back in Atlantis. Sebastian stood beside her, gloriously naked, the steaming water pouring over his broad chest and shoulders.
Magnificent.
She gently reached out and took his hands, washing his bloody knuckles with a bar of lavender-scented soap. “It wasn’t your fault. You tried to save your friends. You fought fiercely.”
“They haunt me. I should have been lost, rather than my kinsmen.” The crimson stain flowed off his fingertips and down the drain, disappearing in a thin red stream. He glanced down at her, his dark lashes sparkling with water, his emerald eyes filled with the yearning need he usually kept buried so deep.
“Poor man. You’ve been so alone, haven’t you?”
As she admired his superb physique, she realized once again that this was just a dream. It wasn’t real. Perhaps she could ease him just a little bit. What could it hurt? In his dream, she could touch him the way she’d not yet had the courage to do in real life.
Before her thoughts could go any further, he muttered her name and enveloped her in his arms, crushing her against his chest. Their bare skin connected with wet heat as his lips found hers. She gasped as he kissed her hungrily, his tongue a sweet, plundering flame.
Trevelan’s kisses had never felt this way; she’d never even imagined such seething heat and desire.
Swept up, she gasped into his mouth as his broad palm covered her breast, teasing and kneading her aching nipple. Magical hands. A true sorcerer in the art of love.
The hot water poured over them, creating a cloud of steam. His large, throbbing erection leapt against her belly, and her womb twinged emptily, as though to protest the fact that he wasn’t buried deep inside her. She clung to his broad shoulders, afraid her legs wouldn’t hold her.
With a moan, he broke the kiss and leaned back against the glass wall, watching her through hot, hooded eyes. “Touch me, Rhoswen. Please, touch me.”
Unable to resist, she finally gave in to the urge to caress his beautiful body. Biting her lip, she reached out and trailed her fingertips across his broad shoulders and then down his muscled, quivering abdomen. At last, she brushed her thumb across the tip of his heavy shaft, biting her lip in sheer pleasure when she realized how much control she had over him. He was at her mercy, in her thrall.
Desire overwhelmed her, shattering the tenuous thread of connection between them.
Back in her own mind once again, she hugged her knees to her chest, trembling all over, unsure which parts of the dream had been her doing and which had been his. She risked a glance in his direction, expecting him to still be sound asleep, only to find him staring back at her.
Their gazes locked, and he flinched, obviously seeing the truth in her eyes. “You were in my dream…. Bloody hell! How did you get in my dream?”
She shook her head, trying to deny it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Do not lie to me, Rhoswen!” He rose from his pallet with predatory grace and crossed the room to her side, staring down at her in mingled fear and dismay. “Tell me you did not touch me. Tell me you did not pleasure me some fanciful rain box.”
“You were in so much pain. I only wanted to help.”
He gave a harsh laugh and scrubbed his hand over his face, his big body trembling. “Do not mistake me — I enjoyed every moment of it. It is merely that… if you were in my mind, what did you see? Bloody hell, what did you see!”
She reached for his free hand, wanting to reconnect with him in some way. “I saw nothing but good, Sebastian.”
He shook his head, but closed his fingers around hers, holding on so tight her hand ached. “How did you do it? How did you enter my mind?”
“I have a gift. Even among my people, it’s rare. And I don’t use it often. I just needed to know if I could trust you. I meant to slip in quickly, unnoticed.”
He stared at her, obviously wondering what to believe. His reaction surprised her. He didn’t seem horrified by her ability, just embarrassed and ashamed that she’d picked through his memories.
“Who are you?” he whispered. “And from what fey kingdom did you come?”
* * * * *
Sebastian stared down at the lovely witch in his bed, wondering if he were still dreaming. Her pale, moon-spun hair flowed around her shoulders in wild
disarray, and her deep blue eyes held fathomless secrets.
He could not shake the image of her nude, lithe body, or the way it had felt, dream or nay, when she had smoothed those small hands over his bare skin. No woman had ever stroked him with such blatant sensuality.
“I can’t tell you where I come from,” she whispered. “But I did not come here to harm you or your people. I wish only to observe.”
“For what purpose?” Agitation laced his voice. If he were wise, he would give her back to his brother and wipe his hands of the entire matter. He had kept himself apart from humanity for far too long to let this lovely siren lure him under her spell.
She sighed and pushed a strand of her moon-spun hair behind her ear with a delicate motion of her slim wrist. “Sit down beside me,” she coaxed. “We have much to discuss.”
He hesitated, unwilling to do as she asked when arousal still pulsed so heavily within him. For so long, he had kept his passions under tight rein, but she made him far too aware of everything missing in his life. His books and experiments could never replace simple companionship.
“Please. Sit with me.”
With an inward groan, he allowed her to draw him down on the bed beside her. He sank down on the furs, facing her, one knee drawn up in an effort to hide the fact that he still ached with need.
She gave him a weak smile. “Don’t worry. You were dreaming. You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about. We both created those moments in the shower. I wanted you every bit as much as you wanted me.”
That was supposed to soothe him? He burned to press her down in the soft furs and continue what they had started in their minds. Hearing that she wanted it as well nearly snapped the last thread of his tenuous control.
He cleared his dry throat. “Dream or nay, I cannot get the feel of you out of my thoughts.”
“I’ve never felt that way before.” She bowed her head with apparent shyness. “I never knew such passion existed.”
Unable to resist, he put a fingertip beneath her chin and tilted her lovely face toward his. Her eyes flared with heat, and her tongue traced her bottom lip, leaving it wet and succulent. With a tortured groan he gave in, lowering his mouth to hers, kissing her with a hunger borne of years of loneliness and despair.
She responded in kind, moaning deep in her throat as she pressed against him. The soft swells of her breasts crushed against his chest, and her slim thighs straddled his own.
The moment she settled upon him, the pleasure disappeared, replaced by the nightmare of his past. Panic surged within him, and he wrenched his lips from hers, setting her roughly aside.
Damaged. Dirty. Broken.
The words tumbled through his mind as he struggled to regain control. He had fantasized endlessly about having her in his arms, but he found he could not do it. Even after all these years, he could not stand to be touched or restrained in any way.
“Rhoswen,” he breathed, the word wrenched from deep inside him. “If you were in my mind, you must have seen things… things that must have horrified you. And you have to know… I am unclean. I do not deserve your kiss… your touch.”
She blinked up at him in confusion, her lips swollen from his kiss, her nipples hard against the soft fabric of her strange clothes. “I saw nothing but good in you, Sebastian. I don’t know what you mean.”
Her words shattered him. He did not know if she told the truth or lied to spare his feelings. He could not bear the thought of her having seen the degradations he had suffered at Sa’id’s hands. Or worse yet, how his body had often acted independently of his mind, how he had found pleasure in things that should have disgusted him, how he had sometimes begged to be touched.
Sa’id had always liked to hear him beg.
A tremor traveled the length of his body as he tried to force the hateful memories back where they belonged. His arousal faded in an icy rush. Christ, he had managed to keep thoughts of Sa’id buried for so long. And for a moment he hated her for making him relive them.
She scrambled to her knees, kneading his shoulder, obviously distressed. “Don’t be angry. I won’t force myself on you again. I promise.”
He gave a bitter laugh, feeling unmanned. What sort of man turned a woman like her away?
Unfortunately, the answer was clear. He wasn’t a man. He had lost the right to call himself one in the desert.
The wisest course would be to leave the tower until he had gained some control, but he couldn’t bring himself to move away. Despite everything, the last half hour had been one of the best of his life. He had never felt this close to anyone.
“Talk to me,” he implored, desperate for some answers. She had him twisted in knots, and he still did not even know who she was. “Tell me where you came from.”
“I can’t do that,” she reiterated. “I would like to. Really, I would. But even if I did, you’d never believe me.”
“I would believe you.” He could not begin to imagine a place where gadgets like the ones on his desk were commonplace, but he feared the answer would shake his entire world.
“My offer still stands. I will tell you everything you want to know about our instruments. How they’re made and what they’re used for. I can answer any of your questions, except for where I’m from. All you have to do in return is help me leave this place.”
With a harsh sigh, he stared up at the vaulted stone ceiling. He wanted what she offered, more than he could possibly explain, even more than he wanted to sink deep within her sweet, soft body and banish the ghosts of his past. But he could not see any way to match her bargain without earning his brother’s eternal enmity.
“Sebastian! Open the door.” Angry and frustrated, the distinctive bellow sounded from the courtyard below the tower, slicing through Sebastian’s troubled thoughts.
Simon.
Sebastian could not imagine what had brought his brother to his doorstep at this time of night, but it did not bode well.
* * * * *
Simon’s angry roar sent trepidation chasing down Rhoswen’s spine. She cast Sebastian a nervous glance, hoping he’d set her mind at ease, but he looked nearly as anxious as she. She’d foolishly allowed herself to relax her guard around Sebastian, but she hadn’t forgotten the dangers beyond the tower.
“Simon.” Sebastian’s husky voice held a hint of worry. “I must see what he wants.” Sliding from the bed, he crossed the room and disappeared down the stairs.
Rhoswen waited only moments before pulling on the heavy robe, and then hurrying after him. She was determined to hear firsthand what had prompted the lord of the castle to bellow for his brother like a commoner. Lord Simon’s late-night appearance undoubtedly had something to do with her.
She reached the herbarium on the ground floor just as Sebastian’s bristling older brother entered the tower. If she’d been a little quicker, perhaps she’d have seen how Sebastian opened the door.
Hawkesmere’s lord gave her an angry, speculative glance, then turned his attention upon Sebastian. “This is the second time in less than two days I have been forced to traipse all the way over here to talk to you.”
Sebastian frowned. “I am not used to being summoned like one of your lackeys.”
“Has the wench bewitched you? I have never seen you take such an interest in anything that was not in the bottom of one of your glass tubes.” Simon cast another brooding glance in Rhoswen’s direction. “She is lovely. I understand your fascination, but use a little sense. You have obviously gotten what you wanted, why not let me question her now?”
Sebastian’s face darkened with unmistakable anger. “She stays with me.”
“Why do you care?” Simon’s voice revealed his own barely controlled fury. “I do not understand why she means so much to you.”
“I already told you,” Sebastian thundered, his own voice rising with obvious frustration. “I have seen far too many innocents suffer to be a party to any more senseless brutality.”
“Swear to me you are telling the truth,” Simon de
manded. “Swear you would never betray me for a woman.”
Rhoswen bit her lip, clenching her hands in frustrated fists at her sides. She hated to put Sebastian in such a difficult position, yet at the same time had no doubt he’d do whatever it took to save her.
Her heart swelled with nameless emotion, and tears pricked her eyes. She’d done nothing to deserve his loyalty, but somehow, she’d earned it. She prayed she didn’t have to do anything to hurt him.
“I take full responsibility,” Sebastian said evasively. “No harm will come to Hawkesmere because of her, Simon. I swear it.”
Simon shook his head, looking unconvinced. “I do not believe you. Especially given the fact that a stranger tried to steal a horse in the village a few hours ago. A stranger who looks exactly like her.”
Trevelan!
Guilt suffused her when she realized she’d hardly given her companion a thought since she’d first laid eyes upon Sebastian. During those first few days on the trail, she’d prayed Trevelan would catch up and somehow mount a rescue, but when she’d arrived at Hawkesmere without so much as a glimpse of her friend, she’d assumed he’d abandoned her.
Sebastian turned and gave her a piercing glance, betrayal shimmering in the emerald depths of his eyes. “What do you know of this?”
She shook her head wordlessly, unsure what to say. Was there any explanation he would believe?
With a frown, he turned his attention back to his brother. “Can you give us a moment? I will meet you in the dungeon as soon as I have some answers.”
Simon hesitated and shot her a fulminating glare, but then he nodded and stormed out.
As soon as Sebastian shut the door behind his brother, she stepped forward and gave him an imploring look. “I didn’t mean to keep this from you. I just didn’t think it would become an issue. Your men captured me before Trevelan could join me on the beach. When I never saw him on the journey here, I assumed he either hadn’t seen what happened or had chosen to abandon me to my fate.”