The Fae Lord's Lady

by Lisa Kumar

  With gentle hands, he guided her to a chair that rested before an unlit fireplace in her chamber. Too surprised to do anything else, she let him push her into the seat. Before long, his sure stokes were releasing any tangles that had the misguided notion of knotting her hair.

  It should’ve felt heavenly, and it did — too much so for her peace of mind. The motions of his hands glided all the way down to her toes, which curled against the bare stone of the floor. Speaking of toes, she’d need some slippers.

  She swallowed the football-sized lump in her throat. "Do you happen to have anything I can wear on my feet?"

  At those words, Lorh stopped brushing and strode over to the massive wood armoire that apparently held everything that she’d ever need. After flinging the doors open and withdrawing a pair of slippers from the bottom, he returned and set them down beside her.

  Natalie slipped her feet into the soft leather and was pleasantly surprised by the snug fit. They couldn’t have fit better than if they’d been made for her. Smiling, she craned her head around to look at him. "They fit perfectly!"

  He merely smiled, commencing his brushing again. She leaned back in her chair, deciding she might as well enjoy having a handsome male seeing to her every need —well, her hair’s need, that is.

  She had Devin, so she certainly didn’t need another man interested in her, especially one she’d soon be seeing the back of.

  3

  At one time, the flowering shrubs in the courtyard wouldn’t have snagged Natalie’s attention. But that was back home, where there weren’t any moving trees. They had the honor of her focus now. She didn’t know if they were ghastly or beautiful, with their limbs twining and then separating in a snakelike dance. The comparison made her shiver. She didn’t much like snakes.

  Still, the scenery gave her something to contemplate other than the person by her side. She could almost ignore the hand at her elbow, urging her forward. Almost ignore how her body became hypersensitive when close to him.

  But not quite. What was he doing to her? She didn’t even know him. Devin had never had this effect on her, so why now? Why this man who wasn’t a man? At least not a human one.

  Praying that their destination was near, she glanced up at the branches overhanging the flagstone path on which they walked. Another quiver worked its way through her.

  "You don’t like the trees and the other growing plants."

  She shook her head, her voice silenced by the conflicting emotions of fear and fascination. Whether those emotions were saved solely for the scenery, she couldn’t decide.

  "What you see in this garden can’t hurt you."

  Meaning what was outside this garden could? The alarm she felt at his choice of words must’ve flashed across her face, for he stopped walking. His hand slid up her arm, over her shoulder, and along her neck.

  Instinctively, Natalie closed her eyes, and oddly enough, no fear struck her. His palm came to rest upon her cheek. The sensation… She didn’t how to describe the bundle of emotions kindling in her chest. His touch was comforting, romantic, familiar.

  Familiar? How could that be?

  Her eyes sprang open so she could search his for something — anything — but he avoided her gaze.

  Taking her hand in his, he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Come, I want to show you something."

  She tried to ignore the tingle his touch gave her, so she settled for staring back and forth between him and the bush that he led her to. As he drew their clasped hands nearer to the plant, she wanted to squeal and close her eyes. She forced herself into calmness, at least outwardly. When they were nearly within touching distance of the shrub, a gentle caress against the backs of her fingers caused her to start.

  "Oh!" She looked at him. Had he done that? He shook his head and smiled, nodding toward the bush. The leaves moved of their own volition and tickled across her skin. She gasped and laughed nervously. "It’s like being petted by a bush."

  "That is exactly what it’s doing."

  A nervous giggle broke from her lips again. When she caught him staring at her, the laughter died in her throat. The emotion in his eyes... She couldn’t describe it as anything other than longing. Longing for what? Surely not her. They didn’t even know each other. Maybe he was missing a girlfriend or a wife?

  She almost frowned, not liking the idea one bit. She ripped herself away from such a dangerous train of thought. No good could come of it. She was just being fanciful. Her surroundings must be rubbing off on her.

  Wanting a distraction from her own mind, she self-consciously tugged at a strand of her hair. "Why are you staring?"

  "Your laugh. It’s good to hear."

  She didn’t know how to reply to that. He was throwing her off-balance, not that it took much, especially since she was in a strange place. Some emotional distance would be needed for her to gain back her lost equilibrium.

  Even as she stiffened her resolve, something coiled itself around her hand, causing her to shriek and pull back. The offender was a young, green shoot from the bush.

  He stilled her movement. "No, no. You’ll damage the delicate shoot if you pull away before it has time to let go."

  She bit her lip, stifling the urge to still rip her arm away. "It’ll let go?"

  "Did I not say you were safe in my garden? Yes, truly, it will let go."

  "Oh," was all she could mutter. Once she got used to the feeling of a plant exploring her, the sensation wasn’t so frightening.

  "It’s examining you, seeking to know you better through the only means it has."

  "Like a toddler being orally fixated?"

  His laugher rang throughout the courtyard. "Yes, I guess you could say that. My brother and sisters exhibited that behavior when they were very young."

  "You’re that much older than they are?" She’d guess him to be considerably older, though his appearance did not add to this impression. In human years, he looked to be anywhere from his early twenties to his early thirties, as he had that kind of ageless face that made time irrelevant.

  "Yes, I am by far the oldest." His tone brooked no further questions.

  Consternation filled her, but she didn’t press him. He blew hot and cold, his moods changing with an irregularity she couldn’t predict. She glanced down at her hand, wondering what to do next.

  "Flick your fingers gently. It’ll loosen. Then you can pull away."

  She did as he told, and the shoot loosened, allowing her hand to slip away easily and fall back to her side. Not resisting the impulse, she flexed her hand. It moved like it should, the encounter with the shrub not leaving any discernable effects except for a slight tingling where it had touched.

  "Your hand, it’s in one piece?"

  His teasing voice came from above her head. She turned toward him so quickly she almost got whiplash, but she abruptly halted when her nose almost hit his chest. Yikes, when had he gotten so close — and so tall?

  He picked up her hand, which was lying limply by her side, and made a show of inspecting it. "Your hand, my lady, is fine?"

  She nodded wordlessly, watching as his hair slid over his shoulders and a few strands came to rest upon her hand. The breath stilled in her lungs. Like before, a sense of familiarity swept over her. It was as if she’d already lived this moment before. But that was just pure craziness. It had to be — nothing else made sense.

  "Well, since you are unscathed," he said, placing her hand on his arm, "let us continue on."

  Natalie followed him without a word, her mind too awash with conflicting emotions and thoughts to offer up any pleasantries. They walked for another minute or so, and she saw how rambling Lorh’s home was. He’d called it a manor, but it resembled no manor house she’d seen in pictures. Low-lying buildings no more than a few stories high flanked the courtyard, which seemed to be at the heart of the layout. Most of the buildings probably served as housing. The one she’d come from certainly had. Each structure was connected to the next with covered walkways that would offer
some protection from the elements.

  She wanted to peek past those buildings to see what lay beyond. During their initial meeting, he’d made mention of a city — his city, if she remembered correctly. Did that mean he was a lord of some type in this — wherever this was?

  If he were, where were the people? Though she’d been awake for no more than an hour or so, she hadn’t seen anybody other than Lorh and his sisters. Nara had mentioned servants, whom she hadn’t wanted to take care of Natalie. Figuring that they might all be busy with their duties, she put the matter away for now. Time and patience would show her the answer.

  She frowned. While not exactly impatient, she wasn’t blessed with an overabundance of patience, either. Especially not in a situation like this. Her frown grew. This bizarre situation defied all explanation, so maybe it wasn’t a good measuring stick of that virtue.

  As she shook herself back to the present, they neared a terrace surrounded by creeping vines and latticework. A ball of anxiety knotted itself tighter in her stomach. They had reached their destination.

  The polished wood of the table and chairs gleamed in the sunlight. Various plates and dishes, emitting tantalizing aromas, graced the gleaming surface of the table.

  One of her questions had been answered — a male servant stood by the table, apparently waiting for them. His heavy stare rested on her, so she stared back until his gaze snapped elsewhere. Were humans such a rarity here, or was it something else?

  The soft scrape of wood against stone sounded as Lorh pulled out a chair and seated her. Chivalry lived on, at least in his house. That thought caused a smile to flit over her lips until he spoke.

  "Malin, we will not need your services."

  The manservant gave a shallow bow. "As you wish."

  Uh-oh, left alone.

  Natalie’s smile slipped as she contemplated the looming conversation that awaited them. She should be happy to have the chance to find out why she was here, but the sick feeling coiling in her gut told her that the truth would be anything but simple. Sometimes ignorance bred peace of mind.

  Such a luxury didn’t exist in this case. Natalie could see it on Lorh’s face as he seated himself across from her. Tension bled between them, leeching away at what was left of her already raw nerves.

  Biting her lip, she studied him. While she wasn’t an expert on his facial expressions, she would bet her last drop of sanity that he was twisted up inside — just like her. It wasn’t that she was projecting her own emotions on him. She could just read the signs, his body language. In some ways, it was like she’d known him for years, yet not at all in others.

  "Would you like something to eat?"

  His words startled her out of her reflections, and her stomach protested. While the food smelled delicious, she couldn’t imagine eating until after they’d talked.

  Watching her face closely, he sighed. "I guessed not, but I had to try. I suppose you want to know why you’re here."

  "I’ll first settle for knowing where I am." That should be an easy enough question to answer.

  "Fair enough. TirAnn."

  "Tír na nÓg and Annwn combined together?" She furrowed her brow. Where did she know those names from? From Celtic and Welsh mythology. That knowledge wasn’t reassuring, for she couldn’t remember a time when she’d actually learned those facts. She did watch trivia shows, and she loved to read, so these were probably all things she’d come across at some point.

  He shook his head, and his face relaxed while discussing this apparently familiar subject. "Mortals have never gotten the name right. But that is to be expected, for we have our own devices to ensure they do not."

  "I’m mortal." So what would that make him?

  "Yes," he agreed quietly.

  "You just told me the name."

  "That doesn’t mean you will remember it if we do not desire you to."

  She scowled. The mind was a delicate thing, and yet he spoke of altering it in ways no one should. "No one has the right to mess with my head."

  He shrugged. "We use mind control out of necessity but take care with its application."

  "But not with its frequency?"

  "The mortals in question often influence that number. If they comply with the stipulations, there is no need for memory charms and spells."

  "Stipulations?" There was a price for everything, it seemed.

  "Of a varying nature, in accordance to each individual. One rule is uniform, no matter the person or situation — the secrecy of our world."

  "But how could you trust that people keep their word?"

  "We can’t, but our charms and spells can."

  "Ah." Such magic would come in handy if someone tried to spill the existence of this world.

  Though her memory was fuzzy, hadn’t he said something about her forgetting in three weeks? If she didn’t remain with him? An irascible part of her mind added that last part, though she would rather have ignored it. Why would he want her to stay with him? She’d surely misunderstood that part. "So will I forget?"

  "That is up to you."

  His vague response whetted her frustration. "How so?"

  "By your choices."

  "And what do my choices consist of?"

  "Staying in TirAnn with me, or returning back to your world."

  "But wh…why would I stay with you or here at all?"

  He focused his gaze over her head, not meeting her eyes for untold seconds. "I believe you know the answer to that, if you search within yourself."

  What kind of cockamamie talk is this? But she found without much search that she knew the answer. He wanted her, for some strange and unfathomable reason.

  Tamping down the rising hysteria clawing its way through her, she tried to reason with herself. Lorh couldn’t want her romantically. He’d just met her. Besides, she was human, and he was something else.

  Clearing her suddenly dry throat, she stared at him in mystification. None of this made sense.

  "I know you don’t understand any of this, but I do want you here. You only have three weeks to decide whether to remain here or return to your...world. If you return, you will remember nothing of your stay here, for your own good."

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand. "I cannot tell you more than that for now." His voice grew strained. "I know you suspect that I’m leaving out many details, and you would be correct. But again, I cannot offer you more than I already have."

  Why not? was on the end of her tongue, but she knew he wouldn’t answer her. She could only hope he would reply to her next question. "When? When will I find out the truth?"

  "When the time is right. When you’re ready."

  "And when will that be? Three weeks, three months, or three years?"

  He gave a despairing shake of his head. "I don’t know. But you only have three weeks to make a choice."

  For some reason his hopelessness struck her with all the force of a moving car. Her resolve to stay strong crumpled, along with her heart. Tears welled. She felt so alone, adrift in some foreign land without a clue as to why she was there — other than Lorh wanted her, though he couldn’t say why. Three weeks were finite, not long at all. Then this ordeal would be over. But she couldn’t fool herself into thinking that nothing would happen during those weeks. Something would happen, something that would change her life.

  The certainty of that lay coiled in her stomach.

  Hastily swiping at her cheeks, she heard a muffled sound and glanced up. Before she knew it, strong arms slid around her shoulders, pulling her against a firm, strong body. The spicy smell of sandalwood and some other indefinable fragrance filled her nose. Her breath caught in her throat. She’d recognize that scent from anywhere now.

  Lorh.

  Natalie hadn’t remembered this intruding upon her senses before, even when she’d fallen into his lap. But now that she had, it all felt so familiar and right.

  He felt familiar and right.

  Panic flooded her, and her eyes flew open. As if s
ensing her mood, Lorh tightened his arms around her, and warm hands drifted up and down her back.

  She stifled a moan. A boneless, putty-like sensation gripped her, but when lips trailed over her temple, she snapped back to life with gusto. Tension sparked through her veins as his mouth caressed her skin. Down her cheek. To her chin. Up to the other cheek.

  As he nuzzled his way over to her mouth, she grew taut with anticipation. When he didn’t capture her lips, she almost huffed with annoyance. That soon seeped away, though, as he rubbed his nose against hers. His eyes glowed stronger than ever, their purple light shocking her into reality.

  What in the world was she doing? Pulling back abruptly, she placed her hands on his chest in order to put some distance between them. Things were moving much too quickly. In fact, they shouldn’t be "moving" at all. In three weeks, she would return home. Given this, lip-locking with him wasn’t the wisest choice. Plus, she didn’t even know what he was. Or why he brought out the oddest sensations within her.

  He willingly held himself back, looking at her with only the barest hint of disappointment in his eyes. But was it there solely because of the kiss, or was something else also influencing it? She had the strongest conviction it was both.

  * * *

  * * *

  Lorh watched the wine as he swirled it around in a goblet. The clear ambrosia wasn’t having its desired effect on him, though he knew better than to seek comfort at the bottom of a bottle. No, what ailed him would soon take care of itself, one way or another. In three weeks’ time, to be exact. But till then, he found it harder than he believed possible to pretend. Every day of those three weeks would stretch out like an eternity before him.

  A slight smile spread over his face. It might all be manageable if he could steal a kiss or two from her every few hours. He frowned as he remembered her response earlier that day. She’d pushed him away, though he didn’t think that she truly found his advances objectionable. No, she knew not of the past and would be hesitant of becoming romantically entangled with a person not of her kind. But her defenses would drop. He would ensure it, as would the unfolding events.