22 Nights
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Teaser chapter
Praise for the Children of the Sun Trilogy
Prince of Swords
“Allow yourself to be swept into a world where good and evil battle, where goddesses and princes fight demons and shape-shifters. This is a world Jones excels at creating, [an] exciting, colorful realm.” —Romantic Times
Prince of Fire
“Linda Winstead Jones pens a perfect romance laced with strife, mystery, and an intense passion hot enough to singe your fingers.” —Romance Junkies
Prince of Magic
“Punchy battle scenes and steamy lovemaking will please genre fans, but it is Jones’s gift for creating complex heroes and villains that lifts this story out of the ordinary.”
—Publishers Weekly
Praise for the Sisters of the Sun Trilogy
The Star Witch
“Bewitching . . . A fabulous climactic romantic fantasy . . . filled with fascinating twists, beguiling.”
—Midwest Book Review
“Well done! Very sensual.” —Booklist
“A fantastic denouement . . . For an action-packed and thrilling romance, The Star Witch is just what the doctor ordered.” —Romance Reviews Today
The Moon Witch
“I can hardly wait to find out how she will [entwine] all the threads she has created! . . . This series is just too good to miss.” —The Romance Reader
“An enjoyable romantic fantasy that grips the audience . . . Action-packed.” —The Best Reviews
“A unique and imaginative realm . . . Prepare to be swept away!” —Rendezvous
“[W]ill enthrall . . . Lushly imaginative.”
—Publishers Weekly
The Sun Witch
“Entertaining and imaginative, with a wonderful blend of worlds and technology and magic. The characters are different and engrossing; the villain is fascinating.”
—New York Times bestselling author Linda Howard
“Charming . . . Winsome . . . The perfect choice when you want a lighthearted and fun, yet sensual, romance . . . with all the magic of a fairy tale.” —Bookbug on the Web
“Fabulous . . . The story is spectacular and this author is unforgettable.” —Road to Romance
“She has a special, magical way about her . . . It’s Jones at her very magical best. I am very glad to see her back . . . She shines.”—Deborah MacGillivray
“Amazing adventures unfold . . . Marvelously captivating, sensuous, fast-paced.” —Booklist (starred review)
“Hot.” —Affaire de Coeur
Berkley Sensation Titles by Linda Winstead Jones
THE SUN WITCH
THE MOON WITCH
THE STAR WITCH
PRINCE OF MAGIC
PRINCE OF FIRE
PRINCE OF SWORDS
UNTOUCHABLE
22 NIGHTS
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
22 NIGHTS
A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / December 2008
Copyright © 2008 by Linda Winstead Jones.
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eISBN : 978-1-440-64384-2
BERKLEY® SENSATION
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For Lisa and April,
the daughters I acquired by marriage.
You have both enriched my life.
Love you.
Prologue
The Columbyanan Palace in the Sixth Year of the Reign of Emperor Nechtyn Jahn Calcus Sadwyn Beckyt First Night of the Spring Festival
ALL evening, Merin had tried to avoid the woman who now literally cornered him on the stairway which led to his quarters on Level Four. He’d made an appearance at the palace festivities, as was expected, but once there he’d found himself the target of many curious and ambitious women. There was something about the arrival of spring which made females of a certain age and their mothers think of weddings and babies. What a disastrous state of mind.
None of those females had been more dogged than the woman who’d ambushed him on the stairs as he’d attempted to escape to the quiet comfort of his private quarters.
Cipriana Etain, wife of a highly placed secretary who was here on this night to celebrate the Spring Festival, blocked his avenue of escape—unless he was willing to appear a coward who would turn and run down the stairs. If her hips were not so wide, he might think of rushing around her. No, she obstructed the way quite well, with her hips and her voluminous gown and her glare. Her daughters stood behind her, pink-cheeked and intimidated and not yet so wide. They were actually bone-thin like their father, and seemed to be as reserved as Secretary Etain. All three women were breathless. None of them was accustomed to climbing so many steps.
“I thought I had missed you, General Merin,” Lady Cipriana said, trying to hide her breathlessness with a laugh. It didn’t work well, as she
ended up practically wheezing. “You’re a difficult man to claim for an audience.” She rested a hand on her heaving bosom. “May I call you Tearlach?”
“No one calls me by my given name,” he responded. Not friends, not lovers, certainly not this irritating woman.
“Surely your mother . . .”
“You’re not my mother.”
Displeasure was evident on her plain, weathered face. “I tried all evening to claim a moment of your time, General, but you were always on the move. A dance here, a conversation there, and I swear there were times when it seemed you simply disappeared.”
He should be so lucky.
“You never did get the chance to dance with my daughters, Irinia and Ileana.” She indicated the girls with a wave of her hand, and they curtseyed, one after the other.
“That’s my loss, I’m sure, but it was a very busy evening,” he said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me . . .”
The older woman’s expression changed, her mouth and her eyes hardening. “Not just yet, General. I worked much too hard to claim this time with you to let you get away so easily.”
Merin met the woman’s glare with his own. If she did not feel it necessary to be polite, then neither did he. “What do you want?”
The woman placed her hands on those generous hips, her plump and stubby fingers looking pale against her dark gown. “You are three years past thirty, General, only a few years younger than I. It is long past time for you to take a wife. From all I hear, you are next in line for the position of Minister of Defense. A man of power needs a woman to soothe and aid him, to give him children and provide solace and stability and social acceptability.” She nodded decisively. “Either of my girls would make you a fine wife. They are both pretty and virtuous. I have taught them well, so you can be assured that no man has ever touched that which is a husband’s to take. They are healthy and do not speak much, and they have been well taught in the arts of homemaking.”
“That sounds lovely, but . . .”
“Whichever you choose will come with a substantial dowry, including a family house north of Arthes.” She grinned tightly. “You made your reputation the hard way, General Merin, with blood and sweat. My family can provide what you lack. Social standing. Respectability. A well-respected family name and all that comes with it.”
The woman had managed to praise and insult him in the same breath.
One of the girls looked at the floor and blushed. The other concentrated on a spot on the wall. He could only imagine how humiliating it must be for the sisters to stand there while their mother tried to sell them, using money and virtue to make the deal.
Merin stared at their mother. “Madam, I have had a long day, and this is a discussion for another time.”
“No, it is a discussion for now, General. I have waited as long as I can.” She pursed her lips tightly and then made an outrageous offer. “If you’d like to assure that one or the other would be to your liking, take one now. Whichever you pick, she will be yours for the night, if you wish.”
He had thought nothing more could shock him, but the annoying woman proved him wrong. “Are you offering up one of your daughters for . . .”
“A trial of sorts,” Lady Cipriana said sharply, “to see if she suits behind closed doors. Just choose the one who pleases you best, and she is yours.”
“That’s ludicrous,” Merin said beneath his breath, certain that to so much as touch one of these girls with the tip of his little finger would mean an immediate wedding ceremony.
“You must . . .” Lady Cipriana began.
“I must do nothing,” Merin interrupted. “When the time comes for me to take a wife, I won’t make my choice in the stairwell, ambushed and harassed by an overly ambitious mother.” He bowed to her without respect, nodded to the girls in sincere sympathy, and then he made his way around them all, coming close to the lady’s wide skirts but managing to avoid touching. Once past the women, he ran up the stairs.
General Hydd must’ve started talking in public about his upcoming retirement. That was the reason so many women had tried to corner him tonight. What they didn’t know was that Merin had been offered the post of Minister of Defense years ago, almost immediately after Emperor Jahn had taken control. At the time he’d been battle weary and not all that certain of the new emperor’s abilities.
Now he knew that Emperor Jahn—a man he had first known as Devlyn Arndell—was a fine man and a grand emperor. If he was offered the post of Minister of Defense now, he would probably take it.
On Level Four, Merin found another obstacle to his much-needed seclusion. General Hydd himself waited in the hallway.
If he tried to palm off one of his daughters . . .
“There you are,” the general said impatiently. “I looked for you at the ball and you weren’t there, so I suspected you’d be here, but no one answered my knock.”
“I went for a ride after I left the gathering,” Merin explained. A hard ride in the cool night air had felt wonderful, and the bonfire he’d ridden toward had been primal and powerful. Unfortunately, his excursion had given Lady Cipriana a chance to position herself and lie in wait. “I apologize for not being here when you arrived.”
General Hydd waved his hand, dismissing the inconvenience. Still, he was tense, and Merin could not help but wonder why.
They stepped into Merin’s private quarters, which consisted of four large rooms connected by many doors. Each room was lavishly furnished. He preferred dark, cool colors, so the draperies and upholsteries were in deep shades of blue and green. Housekeepers were here every day, dusting and sweeping, seeing to his clothing if it needed cleaning or mending, scrubbing the floors. This large portion of Level Four was his to call home, his reward for years of service—service which had not yet ended.
These four rooms were larger than the house in which he’d been raised. He had servants ready for his call, night and day. He had more clothes and boots and fine weapons than any one man needed. And when he was made Minister of Defense, if he was made Minister of Defense, his station would once again be elevated. Was that why the current minister called upon him so late at night? Had the time come?
“I need your help,” the general said when they were behind closed doors. “Emperor Jahn has finally agreed to take a wife.”
It was about time. “Who is the new empress to be?” Merin asked.
General Hydd made a sour face. “No one is sure. The emperor has decreed that six suitable women be brought to him by the first night of the Summer Festival, at which time he will choose among them.”
Merin laughed. What an absolutely ridiculous plan! And one which reminded him very much of the irreverent soldier Devlyn Arndell had been before he became Emperor Jahn. That young man would find this a sort of revenge on those who commanded that he take a wife, a rebellion of sorts. Merin didn’t laugh long, as the general before him obviously didn’t think the situation was funny. At all.
Merin poured two mugs of wine and offered one to the older man, who as a proper Minister of Defense had a suitable wife, two sons, and three grown daughters. General Hydd gratefully took the wine, and he looked as if he needed it more than Merin did. He didn’t waste much time downing at least half of the strong, sweet drink. “Six women,” he said after he wiped the back of his hand across his wine-stained mouth. “Couriers will be dispatched immediately, as some of the ladies live quite a distance from the palace. There is one candidate I thought you might be able to assist us with.”
Merin could not imagine how he might be able to help. He didn’t know a single unmarried woman in Columbyana he would consider suitable for the position of empress.
“You fought with a small contingent from the Turi Clan during the war,” General Hydd said.
Merin’s heart sank and sat in his stomach like a boulder. That was a time in his life he preferred not to think about, if at all possible. “They are a rather primitive people, General. Surely there is not a woman among them the emperor would consider tak
ing as his wife.”
“I’m afraid there is.” General Hydd took another long swig. “It seems that in recent years the miners among the clan have unearthed an excess of gems in the mountains they call home. The find was extraordinary, and as a result the clan has become quite wealthy.”
The conversation reminded Merin too much of the one he’d just had on the stairway. Brides for sale! “Is Columbyana in financial difficulty?”
The general sighed. “Always, to some degree.”
“Enough so to sell the position of empress?”
Hydd shrugged his shoulders. “Not really, but wealth is certainly a consideration. The Minister of Finance suggested Belavalari Haythorne as a candidate.”
“Bela?” Merin wished he was back in the stairwell, trapped by a husband-hunting mother. Recovering quickly, he pretended to cough, then cleared his throat and began again. “Belavalari Haythorne of the Turis?”
“Yes. Her father is chieftain, or some such, and Minister Tomos likes the idea of having an imperial connection by marriage to all that wealth.”
Horrors. Bela in the palace. Bela as empress. Bela married to Emperor Jahn. Impossible. “Belavalari Haythorne is just a girl, and if memory serves, she isn’t at all suitable for the position of empress.”
“She’s twenty-three, according to Tomos. That’s hardly too young for marriage. If she’s truly unsuitable, then she won’t be chosen.”