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Broken Dove

Page 17

by Kristen Ashley


  Then he answered my question, “I’ve never heard it known to cause hallucinations.”

  Crap!

  Suddenly his face was in my face. “Maddie, my dove, what did you see?”

  “A bunny.”

  His head jerked back. “What?”

  “I saw a bunny,” I told him.

  He stared down at me like he wanted to take my temperature, or more likely admit me for a full battery of psychological tests (if they did that sort of thing in this world).

  Then, cautiously, he asked, “You fear rabbits?”

  “No,” I answered. “I fear rabbits”—I got up on my toes again— “that talk in my head.”

  All of a sudden, he relaxed, his eyes lit with amusement and his face got soft.

  He also kept hold of me even as he twisted and tossed his sword on the seat of the sleigh.

  Then he came back to me, lifted his hand to the side of my neck and dipped his face close again.

  “All right, poppy, I believe all three of the other women from your world had this same reaction and, unfortunately, I didn’t think to mention it to you. Though, I must admit to some surprise that it did not happen along your journey.”

  “This same reaction to what?” I asked and didn’t wait for him to answer. I asked another question. “What didn’t happen along my journey?”

  “This same reaction to the fact that, in our world, animals can talk to you.”

  “What?” I breathed, my eyes getting wide and in return, his eyes warmed but held their humor.

  “They talk to you.”

  I said nothing. Just stared at him.

  “Not all of them,” he kept the information flowing, “But many. And both genders don’t understand the same creatures. For instance, I as a man can understand the likes of horses, wolves and snakes. You as a woman will be able to understand the likes of rabbits, cats and mice.”

  Okay, in thinking about it, the talking animals thing wasn’t a big surprise, though it still freaked me out. I’d quit feeling surprised at a lot of what went on around me since getting to that world. Sure, when a bunny sounded in my head, I felt immediate shock. But knowing it was something of this world that was, well…that.

  Still, at learning this nuance of it, my brows snapped together and I asked, “Why do the guys get all the cool animals? I mean, rabbits are cute and I’ve no doubt cats are interesting but who really cares what a mouse has to say? No offense to mice, of course,” I hastened to say, just in case any were around and could hear me. “Now, I don’t like snakes all that much but I bet I’d be interested in what one has to say.”

  For a moment, he just studied me.

  Then he threw back his head, his hand at my neck sliding down to join his other arm around me, both convulsed, and he burst out laughing.

  I’d never seen him laugh.

  It was fascinating.

  And shockingly, it was nothing like Pol.

  Sure, it kind of sounded like Pol’s laughter. But Pol never laughed with that rich genuineness that seemed to pour over your skin in a warm and happy way like Apollo did.

  He sobered, kind of, his big body still shaking because he was chuckling and he kept me held close as he looked down at me.

  “If we come across a snake, I’ll act as interpreter,” he offered.

  I hoped we didn’t run across a snake since I didn’t lie, I really didn’t like them much, but I still said, “Cool.”

  He smiled down at me.

  I stared up at him.

  God, he was beautiful.

  And I didn’t know how it was, but even looking exactly like him, he was beautiful in a way that was nothing like Pol.

  “Now, are you over your fright? Can we eat?” he asked.

  I was over my fright. I was still freaking out that animals could talk to me in this world, but I wasn’t tempted to go dashing through the snow anymore.

  “We can eat,” I murmured and he let me go but only to guide me into the sleigh.

  I went after the basket. When I turned with our sandwiches, he’d put his sword back in its scabbard and was sitting on the seat under the furs, the edge thrown back for me.

  I handed him his, sat and he threw the fur over me.

  I unwrapped the muslin cloth from around my sandwich and bit in.

  Cold beef nowhere near as flavorful as what Apollo’s staff provided. And there was nothing to it, no condiments, just mostly grisly beef and kind of stale bread.

  Ugh.

  “We’ll be in Vasterhague just after sundown. Unlike last night, we’ll have choice and I’ll take you for a fine meal.”

  My eyes slid to him to see his on me and my guess from his comment was he knew I didn’t like the sandwich much.

  “This is fine,” I assured him, lifting my sandwich stupidly to indicate I was talking about it, something he had to know.

  “This is rubbish,” he returned, grinning at me and biting into his.

  I gave him a hesitant grin back and returned my attention to my food, which was to say away from him.

  And I kept my attention away from him. But after I’d eaten half the sandwich, it occurred to me that yesterday, I’d ignored him all day. And today, I was trying not to be a bitch, stupid, selfish, childish or silly, but still, right then, I was ignoring him again. Of course, I had different reasons, but it still wasn’t cool.

  So I lifted my eyes to the landscape and asked him, “Is there anything else crazy like animals talking to you that I should know about this world?”

  “Do you know of our dragons and elves?”

  I slid my gaze to him, chewing and nodding.

  “And I know you know of our magic,” he went on.

  I kept chewing and nodding.

  His beautiful eyes held mine and they were back to tender. “Truth be told, poppy, from what I’ve learned from Finnie, our world is much simpler than your world. Your world seems very complicated. And from her descriptions, and I do not intend to offend you with these words, but my world seems less rushed than your world, the land less molested, the air less drab and heavy, and thus all of it more attractive.”

  I looked to the landscape. Outside of bunny tracks, the snow was untouched. The pine trees stark green against its white and the so-very-blue of the sky, the tufts of snow on the trees’ branches thick and fluffy. The air was serene. There was no noise. No airplanes overhead, no railroad tracks, no cars or roads or billboard signs. It actually looked like a Christmas card or the vision of a holiday animated movie come to life, not anything real.

  Yet it was.

  And it was extraordinary.

  “I think you’re right,” I agreed quietly and took another bite of sandwich.

  At this point, I saw his used piece of muslin fly through the air and land in the opened basket.

  I turned my eyes to him and saw him reaching for the wineskin of water hanging from another hook on the front of the sleigh. Stupidly, I watched him sit back, tip his head and drink from it. And even more stupidly, since I could see his throat above his turtleneck working as he drank, and I’d had my lips (and tongue) on that throat and I’d liked it, I became fascinated.

  His turtleneck today was a forest green, no less spectacular than the one the day before, except for the fact that the color did amazing things to his eyes.

  His breeches, I’d noticed that morning, were another dark brown but this pair had a wide, darker brown swatch of leather stitched to the entirety of the inseam, even the crotch.

  Which, at the thought, brought to mind a part of him I paid a good deal of attention to last night, and that part wasn’t his throat. And he’d used that part brilliantly on me multiple times.

  All these thoughts made my breasts swell, my breathing turned shallow and my mind blanked of everything but him.

  Which meant, when he dipped his chin and his gaze moved to me, he caught the look on my face. A look I knew communicated thoughts I wasn’t hiding when his eyes instantly grew dark and his hand flashed out to hook around the
back of my neck and pull me to him.

  His darkened eyes and his hand on me pulling me close made my clit throb and I was so focused on that heady feeling, as he leaned into me, his lips brushing mine then his cheek sliding against mine so his mouth was at my ear, I didn’t move a muscle.

  Then in my ear, he growled, “You must cease looking at me this way, poppy. If you don’t, I’ll cover the floor of this sleigh with this fur and take you in the cold.”

  Oh God.

  I wanted that.

  Oh God, what was happening?

  “And out of necessity, it would be hurried,” he continued. “I’m much looking forward to reacquainting myself with your taste and that beautiful arse of yours tonight, and taking my time doing it. So the sooner we get to Vasterhague, the more time we’ll have.”

  Okay.

  What was happening?

  He lifted away from me and the heat had not left his eyes so I continued to stare stupidly into them.

  “Yes?” he prompted.

  “Uh…yes,” I forced out. “Okay.”

  “Okay,” he whispered, leaned in, touched his mouth first to one eye, then the other, and that was so sweet, my belly melted. He pulled back and went on. “Finish your sandwich, poppy. I’ll see to the horses and we’ll be away.”

  At that, I forced myself to nod.

  He smiled at me.

  I bit my lip.

  Then I watched his shoulders as he exited the sleigh.

  He had great shoulders. Broad. Powerful. And I knew, under all those clothes, exquisitely muscled.

  Oh God.

  I turned my attention to my sandwich and found after a couple of bites, my dry mouth couldn’t take more. I wrapped it up in the muslin, tossed it in and closed the basket. By this time, Apollo was done with the horses and moving back to the sleigh so I situated myself further across the seat so I wouldn’t be sitting too close to him.

  Distance was good. I could get my head sorted if he wasn’t close. Cuddling was bad. I mean, in many circumstances, it was good, way good. But, at this juncture, it was also bad. Way bad.

  He got in the sleigh, grabbed the reins and sat, pulling the furs over his lap. He clicked his teeth, snapped the reins and off we went.

  Okay, getting my head together…apparently Apollo thought last night we’d broken the seal. So instead of it happening and him being way cool about it and putting it behind us, he thought our relationship had changed.

  And I could not say I wasn’t down with that.

  In fact, after last night and the way he’d been today, I was so down with that.

  But I knew I shouldn’t be.

  Things with us were weird and complicated. He told me he’d made love to me last night, not his dead wife, and I believed him. I believed him because the way he said it, the way he was behaving with me made me believe him. But more, I remembered every minute of last night and he’d not once slipped and called me Ilsa or “my beauty.”

  He’d only used the names he had for me.

  So it was just me for him.

  And as for him, not once, not even once did I think of Pol.

  So it was just him for me.

  But still.

  We’d been in each other’s presence—I counted—six times. And if you counted our uncomfortable meal last night, we’d only had one semi-kind-of-date and that date went far from well.

  This shift wasn’t right.

  Or, if not exactly right, it was too fast.

  The sleigh slid over the snow and I worried my lip as it did. Then I pressed my lips together when his arm moved along the back of my seat, curled around me and pulled me across the seat and into him. Without delay, once he got me close, he curved me closer.

  Oh boy.

  “Apollo?” I called.

  “Yes, dove,” he muttered.

  God, really, him calling me “dove” was all kinds of lovely.

  “Um…are we, have we…”

  Just suck it up and talk to him about it, Ils…fuck, Madeleine!

  I took in a deep breath and asked, “Has the state of play between us changed?”

  His deep voice sounded puzzled when he asked back, “The state of play?”

  I pulled up courage and tipped my head back to look at him to see him already looking down at me.

  Yes, puzzled.

  “You seem, I mean…” I drew in breath. “You’re being very affectionate.”

  His head tipped to the side. “This troubles you?”

  “We were, uh…kind of fighting yesterday and, of course, the day before, and, well, dinner wasn’t all that—”

  His eyes started dancing so I shut up and thus he could say, “We weren’t fighting last night.”

  We absolutely weren’t.

  “No,” I agreed breathily.

  “And I much enjoyed last night.”

  I’d got that. Still, it felt nice him confirming it.

  “Good.” I was still talking breathily.

  He pulled me closer and up a bit so we were nearly face-to-face. That was, nearly face-to-face with our faces about an inch away.

  “Adela tea,” he began, his voice deeper than normal and warmer than normal and that was a double whammy. “Comes from adela trees. Have the gods of my world been explained to you?”

  I nodded. I knew all about their gods and the fact that they had a bunch of them. “Gaston told me about them.”

  He nodded back. “Then you know that Adele is the goddess of love. And she created those trees. The bark of those trees, if taken and infused with water, is what makes adela tea. These trees have many uses and are sacred. The tea is one of those uses. It is understood the goddess Adele created it to enhance the physical connection along with the emotional connection, if one is to be had, between lovers. It works as I explained before but it also breaks down inhibitions.”

  Oh, it certainly did that.

  His arm gave me a squeeze before he kept explaining. “Even if we don’t realize it, things in our head can build barriers to sharing in a variety of ways, including during bedplay. With those swept away, lovers can understand each other better. What pleasures them. Where to touch that feels best. Smells, noises, tastes that enhance gratification.”

  It certainly did that, too.

  Apollo wasn’t done.

  “And, through future relations, once had, the understanding of all this will never be lost, even if the tea isn’t consumed. Therefore, it continues to make relations all that more intense, deeper, a beautiful experience every time you engage in it.”

  Oh boy.

  That sounded awesome.

  He kept going.

  “And if there is an emotional connection, or one that is building, all this serves to enhance that as well, most precisely, trust.”

  His face got closer to mine so he was now only half an inch away and my breath caught.

  “Amongst the other things, I feel that is what it’s done for us, my poppy. You must admit, regardless of the unusual circumstances that brought us together, we would not argue with such passion if there was not some emotional connection on which to feed that passion.”

  This made sense, of course, but there was the history that came before, for both of us, which could actually be the cause of said “passion.”

  So, I started to protest, “But—”

  He knew what my protest would be because his eyes grew slightly hard and he declared, “It is not about him for you and it is not about her for me. We both know this. They were not there last night.”

  “No, they weren’t,” I whispered and the hardness slid out of his eyes.

  “They were between us, Maddie. Were. Last night, with the tea, with the way you gave yourself to me so freely, so magnificently, and how I treasure that, now they’re gone.”

  Okay.

  Shit.

  How he treasured it?

  I liked that.

  Like, a lot.

  Still.

  “Okay, I get that,” I said. “But if that’s the
case, if we’re, um…enhancing relations, maybe we should take that slowly.”

  His head gave a slight jerk then his hand slid up to cup the back of my head. He shoved my face in his neck just as he burst out laughing.

  I wasn’t exactly sure what was funny.

  Before I could ask, his fingers twisted carefully in my ponytail, he tugged back a bit and his mouth hit mine for a hard, closed-mouth kiss before he moved a breath away.

  “Do you think, dove, that you could give me the abundance and beauty of last night then make me wait to have you again?”

  Hmm.

  “I’ll answer that,” he said, his eyes still lit with humor. “You can’t.”

  “Uh…okay.”

  “And Madeleine, with the way you’ve been looking at me, it’s quite clear you don’t want to.”

  I had to admit, he might not be wrong about that.

  I began to worry my lip.

  His eyes dropped to it and then I watched them smile.

  That smile faded to warmth when he stated, “I’ll make you a promise. Tonight, we’ll go slower and I’ll be more gentle. How’s that?”

  Apollo being slow and gentle.

  Crap.

  My clit was pulsing again.

  “Uh…okay.”

  He smiled again, leaned in and touched his mouth to mine again and finally sat back, his hand sliding out of my hair to round my back and hold me close, yes…again.

  Okay.

  Did I just agree to start a sexual relationship…no, to continue one alongside beginning a relationship-relationship with the Apollo of this world?

  I think I did.

  Okay.

  Right.

  Shit.

  Chapter Eleven

  In There

  I watched the door close behind Apollo, and dazedly, I turned and looked down at my trunks.

  Trunks.

  Yes, three.

  I’d come in with only one as well as the things we brought from Fleuridia. Only one had been brought up to the room yesterday. And I had not studied what was packed behind us under the silken green tarp of our sleigh.

  But now, to my surprise, I had three.

  We were in Vasterhague.

  Vasterhague was much bigger than the village we’d stayed in the night before. In fact, it was as big as a small city.

  When the boys were bringing me into Lunwyn, we’d stayed there and they’d told me a lot about it.

 

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