A breeze blew and she hugged herself.
Minutes passed. Savion’s heart grew heavy. “What happened?”
“Forwin happened. Magician, warlock, town shaman. He loved me too. Wanted me for himself. He couldn’t stand that I loved Ivan.” She picked up a pebble and tossed it into the pond. Ripples spiraled out from the impact. “He … he … we made a bargain. A test to prove Sir Ivan’s love.” She swallowed. “As it turns out, Forwin was right. Sir Ivan didn’t love me at all. At least not enough to risk his life for me.”
Her jaw steeled, and she turned away from him.
He winced. A test. No wonder those words triggered pain in her. “I’m sorry, Perdita.” He leaned over and gently brushed her now-dry hair behind her, then swung an arm over her and drew her close. She leaned her head on his shoulder as a sob rose in her throat.
“Go ahead and cry. You’ll feel better.”
But she didn’t. She just gripped him as if she never wanted to let go. So, that is why she threw herself at men. She wanted to be loved. Not just loved, but loved unconditionally for who she was. Even her own father had only valued her beauty.
Savion kissed the top of her head. Yet didn’t she seek what everyone wanted—to be special, valued, and loved no matter what? It was a rare thing to find in Erden. Most people settled for much less.
Savion was one of the fortunate ones, for he knew his father loved him that way.
Sunlight angled through the trees on its descent, bouncing off sparkling waters and transforming her skin into satin. He ran a finger over the bandage on her arm.
A tremble ran through her. She looked up at him, and he caressed the fading bruises on her cheek and eased a lock of hair from her forehead, drawing in her sweet scent. And before he knew it, he lowered his lips to hers.
Chapter 21
Perdita had known many kisses in her long life, but none as meaningful, none as powerful, as Savion’s. She’d experienced passionate kisses, hungry ones, desperate ones, angry ones, and even some that hurt. She’d had kisses that were awkward and sloppy, others that were gentle— even hesitant—and others that drove her mad with desire. But Savion’s kiss touched the deepest part of her. It touched her soul with a yearning so strong, it overpowered her physical need for him.
One arm behind her, he laid her gently on the bed of sand and caressed her face with the back of his hand while he deepened the kiss. Ah, sweet bliss! She had set out to seduce him with her enchanting skills, but he was the one who trapped her instead.
And what a trap! There, barricaded by his love and strength, all of Perdita’s fears, all her sorrows, were swept away. She wrapped her arms around him and drew him close, welcoming him gladly, joyously, wondrously. His breath came fast, his body heated, and the thought that she pleased him made her heart soar.
But then he jerked up, a look of horror on his face. He sat back and shook his head as if trying to break an evil spell. “I’m sorry.”
“Whatever for?” She rose on her elbows, her passions chilled.
Standing, he drew a deep breath and knelt by the water, splashing it onto his face and neck. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Perdita’s heart shrank. She had thought … the kiss had been so wonderful … she had thought he’d felt the connection, the love, too. She sat up and her chemise started to slip over her shoulder. She thought to allow it, if only to draw him back to her. But, oddly, she found she didn’t want him on those terms. She covered herself.
“You took naught but what I offered.” She heard the sorrow in her own voice. He must have too, for he glanced at her.
“You’re so beautiful, Perdita. But then, you know that. You use your beauty as a weapon.”
A tear escaped her eye, and she batted it away before he saw it. “Surely you felt the bond between us, Savion. There was so much more to that kiss than physical pleasure.”
“I felt many things. Some of which should not be felt beyond the boundaries of marriage.”
“I pity you if ’twas only your passion that was stirred.” Pain and anger battled within her. “I felt love.”
“Love?” He snorted. “In physical pleasure?”
“What else is there between man and woman?”
He walked back to her and looked her in the eyes. “So much more: friendship, admiration, respect, commitment, covenant, faithfulness, kindness.”
It was her turn to snort. “You’re a dreamer, Savion. Those things don’t exist. At least not in strong enough measures to last beyond one’s own selfishness.”
“Then it is you who should be pitied. For what hope is left in this world if not for free and unselfish love?”
Indeed. What hope was there for her? A breeze fluttered the leaves around them. “You are the first man who has ever been able to resist me.” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
“No easy task, I’ll grant you.” He returned her smile. “Yet there is so much more to you than your beauty.”
His words touched her, softened the ache in her heart. But they couldn’t be true. He was merely flattering her or trying to make her feel better. She tossed her head. “Lying does you no credit. Not a man like you. I’ve done naught but deceive you and try to seduce you.” And try to kill you, she’d add, if she were honest.
“You give yourself away far too cheaply, Perdita. And I’m guessing to those who do not appreciate you, those who use you for their own pleasure.”
She shrugged. “How else can we find love except by giving something to the other person? Something that will make them stay?”
“You can’t buy love, Perdita. It must be given to you freely or it isn’t love at all.”
She frowned. “You make no sense. You hate beauty and are suspicious of women. What happened to make you this way?”
He laughed. “Neither are true. But if you get dressed, I’ll tell you my story.” He gestured toward her clothes hanging on the branch.
“Very well,” she said as she rose and slipped behind the bush. After donning her bodice and skirts, she emerged and sat down beside him on the shore again, anxious to hear more about him and thankful when he didn’t scoot away.
Instead, with the sweet chirp of birds and gurgle of water to serenade them and a breeze to keep them cool, he told her a tale of a glorious land where he was born—a land of beauty and peace with magnificent buildings made of marble, streets carved in gold, lush gardens, trees that bore fruit that healed diseases. And best of all, tales of a wonderful father who adored him and who taught him the value of wisdom and mercy and love. He spoke with such longing and joy, his face glowed, and it ignited a longing within her.
“Where is this place?” she asked. “For I wish to go there too.”
“Far away, I’m afraid. And only accessed through a narrow bridge difficult to find.”
“You wish to return there.” The thought made her sad.
“With all my heart.”
“Why would anyone ever leave such a place?”
“I fell in love. Like you, I chose unwisely. Lorelei was very beautiful, charming, intelligent, and kind. Or so I thought.”
As she watched agony line his face, she felt pain in her own heart. “She betrayed you.”
He nodded. “We were only married a year when I discovered she had lovers.”
“Lovers?”
He flattened his lips. “Many. And apparently it had been going on for some time.”
She touched his arm. “I’m so sorry, Savion.” She had known rejection, but she had not known such betrayal.
The muscles in his jaw bunched.
She took his hand in hers. “I can’t believe any woman lucky enough to be your wife would throw it all away. What did you do?”
“Divorced her, of course. My father insisted.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And then he sent me here to the Ancient Seas.”
“As punishment?”
He shrugged. “To fight Natas. To learn a lesson. I don’t know. He said it was to save someone.” A bree
ze stirred the hair at his collar.
“Instead, you seem to save everyone.” She smiled. “When can you return?”
“When my father summons me. Soon, I hope.”
To a place Perdita could never go. Her breath escaped her. She would go back to the sea, and he would return home. And she’d never see him again. A red-and-blue parrot flew across the clearing, squawking, and landed on a branch above them. “’Tis no wonder you don’t trust women.”
He raised a brow. “Particularly beautiful ones.”
“Then I’d give anything to be ugly.” She squeezed his hand.
His gaze dropped to her lips. “At the moment, I wish you were too.” He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.
His touch was like fire, heating every inch of her. His breath wafted over her cheek. She closed her eyes, longing for his kiss.
Instead, his voice was curt. “I cannot figure you out, Perdita. What is it you want from me?”
She opened her eyes. “I want you to love me, Savion.”
“You don’t even know what love is.” He rose to his feet, brushed off his breeches, then sat on a rock and slipped on his boots.
“You could teach me.” She struggled to rise on her sore feet, started to stumble and embellished it, hoping he’d come to her aid.
Instead, he grabbed his baldric and pistols. “My father will choose my next bride.”
“Someone pure and good and perfect, no doubt. Not like me.”
“What is that?” He slipped his baldric over his shoulder and knelt to pick up something in the sand by her feet. “A pearl.” He held it up to the fading light.
Perdita’s heart froze. She patted the outside of her pocket.
He noticed and raised incriminating brows her way. “Yours?”
“I found it on the ship.” She lied and hated herself for it.
Suspicion rode in his voice. “First of all, there are no pearls on my ship. Secondly, were you planning on stealing it?”
“Nay.” She tried to think. “I found it right before the battle and forgot to give it to you.” Part of that was true.
He stood staring at her as if he were probing her spirit for the truth. She glanced at the pond and shifted her feet through the sand, trying her best to act casual.
“Why do you never cry?” he finally asked.
She gave a nervous laugh and faced him. “Surely you don’t think I’m a mermaid? Of all the absurd things!” She continued her nervous prattling, knowing she should stop but unable to. “In good sooth, I’m simply not one of those women who cry easily. A mermaid! Preposterous!”
He heaved a sigh. “It grows dark. We should go.” The earlier tender look in his eyes had been replaced by stern resolve. He grabbed his cutlass and slid it into its sheath, then turned and headed down the trail, gesturing for her to follow.
She’d rather melt into the sand at her feet. As her heart was doing at the moment. Through lies and deceit and seduction, she’d lured many men to fall in love with her, but because of those very things, she’d lost the one man she truly loved.
Knowing he would never allow her to stay in the jungle alone, she trudged after him, her anger rising with each step. She’d have no more chances with this man. This had been her best one. And still he had rejected her in favor of some prim and priggish prude his father would choose.
As the sun descended, shadows rose, forming monsters out of trees that were friends just moments before. The green thicket became a sweltering prison, and Savion tugged off his shirt, withdrew his sword, and hacked away at vines blocking their path. Perdita stewed in her anger as new sounds arose: the hum of night insects, the hoot of an owl, the low growl of …
A cat—a very large cat.
Halting, Savion listened. The ominous throaty rumble sounded again. Louder. He grabbed Perdita and dove behind a bush.
“Shhh.” He put a finger to his lips and peered through the leaves.
She settled beside him, hoping the animal would pass them by. But then a glorious idea occurred to her—a glorious, wonderful, horrible idea. Her pulse stormed through her. If she was going to do this, she had to act quickly or the chance would be lost.
She coughed. Not just coughed. She hacked and gasped for breath, and then coughed again. By the time Savion put his hand on her mouth, his eyes wide with panic, the damage was done.
The panther strolled down the path, lean muscles rolling across its back and shoulders as it moved—all grace and power. And large. The largest cat Perdita had ever seen. It stopped before their bush, sniffed the air, then growled and pawed the leaves. Finally, its jade-green eyes pierced them through the foliage.
And Savion did what she knew he would: he stood, sword extended, and stepped in front of her.
She rose behind him, unable to stop from trembling, yet all the while waiting for the pain, the itch, that would tell her the curse was lifting. It had to lift! If ever Savion risked his life for her, it was now. Regardless, she had already determined that she would not allow him to be hurt. If she remained a mermaid, she’d leap in front of Savion and be mauled instead. If not, and she became human, together they would fight off the beast. She scanned the jungle for the ever-present creatures of light, but saw none. No crew dashed to his aid. It was just him against the panther—a fierce, hungry-looking panther.
The cat moved closer and growled loudly, revealing sharp cutting fangs. The roar reverberated in her ears. It swiped a massive paw at Savion with claws as long as knives. Savion leapt back, shoving against her. Her knees went weak, and she stumbled.
One more swipe like that and Savion’s leg would be torn in two. What had she done? The panther crouched, ready to pounce. And still Perdita had not changed. Zost! She was angry with Savion for his rejection, but she didn’t want him to actually die. And her to be mauled afterward! Where were the creatures of light?
Savion’s breath came hard; the muscles across his back and arms tightened. He gripped the medallion he always wore, while Perdita looked around for a rock, a stick, anything to help.
Then Savion did something she never would have guessed. He lowered his sword—dropped it, in fact—and held out his hand to the vicious cat that was about to eat them. The panther remained crouched, ready to pounce, but Savion gently knelt down and whispered to it.
Perdita couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, her thoughts spinning.
An odd sound drifted to her ears. Purring? A loud, soothing rumble emanated from the panther as the cat blinked its eyes, rose on all fours, and quietly strolled away.
Perdita didn’t remember the rest of the trek back to the beach, only that she felt as if she was worth nothing more than the mud clinging to the bottom of Savion’s boots.
♥♥♥
Two days later, standing at the helm of the Scepter, Savion waved good-bye to the crowd of stranded people on the beach before he turned and issued orders to weigh anchor and raise sails. Finally the repairs on his ship were completed, and it was time to leave. Since he only had room for fifty people on his small ship, he’d left two trapped boar and nets full of fish to feed the remaining people. Turned out, Petrok and Hona were good fishermen. They not only caught a barrel of grouper but had instructed several men to master the skill. The stranded people would be fine until Savion could get to the nearest port and send back rescue ships.
Sails snapped above, and the creak of yards and chime of tackle sounded as the ship veered to starboard and sped off into the blue sea. Wind whipped past his ears as he found Perdita standing at the main deck railing with several of the women they’d brought on board, her ebony hair blowing behind her. The woman beside her began to sob, her eyes focused on the retreating form of her husband on shore, and Perdita flung an arm around her and drew her close.
In truth, Savion was relieved to see the island growing smaller on the horizon. He’d almost failed the hardest test of all—he’d almost given in to Perdita’s charms. Another poor choice based on outward appearance and not the heart. Yet, now t
here she was, kneeling to gather a small child in her arms. Lifting the babe, she kissed his filthy cheek and tickled him until both he and his mother laughed. What a dichotomy this woman was.
“Where to, Captain?” Petrok’s question snapped Savion from his thoughts.
“Make for Mirkesh. It’s the closest island.”
There they could find enough ships to rescue the people. Plus, it had a large enough population where Perdita could find employment and make a life for herself. Perhaps she could find healing there in the arms of a decent man. Savion could not save her. It would have to be another. No, his bride would come from Nevaeh, a woman of his father’s choosing. He could not afford to make another mistake. That’s why, this time, no matter what, he must leave Perdita and never see her again.
Chapter 22
Savion abandoned her again. When she only had five days left as a human, he’d deposited her in the home of a friend—a cobbler and his wife—who lived above the shop they owned. Nice people. Quite aged. The man hard of hearing, the wife bent over in a feeble stance. But they owed Savion their lives and thus were willing to train Perdita in the art of cobbling shoes in return for food and lodging.
Now, as she stood in the stifling upstairs parlor, trying to ignore to the snores of Mr. Ackers in his rocking chair and the click-clack of Mrs. Ackers’s knitting needles, Perdita felt as though she’d go mad. A cyclone of emotions whirled through her: anger, bitterness, fear, heartbreak.
Why was she in such turmoil? Isn’t this what she wanted? To be free of the man whose words and actions constantly blasted through her heart like a cannon? Mayhap, but not like this. She had hoped for a sweet parting—one in which he, at the very least, professed a smidgen of affection for her. Instead, he’d not only ignored her on the ship for two days but no sooner had they dropped anchor, then he, along with several of his crew, had escorted her straight to the Ackers’s home. She’d remained outside while he bargained with them in their front parlor as if she were some commodity to be haggled over.
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