Steve smiled and found he liked the sound of her voice; soft and light, with an uncommon and fluid lilt to her speech. “Thank you, Princess,” he said. “And I’m sure you would make an excellent teacher—but, please, call me Steven. I’ve never been one to stand on my titles.”
“Then you must call me Vessla,” she replied.
Steve smiled at that. Though he knew this entire evening was a set up, he had to admit the king’s daughter possessed a disarming charisma.
He glanced across the jovial monarch to Sonya and then excused himself. “Pardon me for a moment, Vessla. I have not seen my friend since early this morning, and she knows no one here.”
Vessla nodded. He walked around the king’s chair and then helped Sonya up from hers. In English he said, “Has anyone told you you’re the prettiest Earth girl in the place?”
Sonya laughed, touching her fingertips to her chest and batting her eyelashes theatrically. “I’ll bet you say that to all the displaced Earth girls.” She took his hand and together they walked to the ballroom floor amid a dozen other couples already there.
The King watched them go and then leaned to his daughter. “So what do you think of him thus far, Vessla?”
“Oh, Father, I do like him! He is handsome, and strong, and so full of life. Can you not just feel there is something different about him?”
Her father chuckled. “No, I am sorry. I am afraid that magical talent is yours alone, but is it not his power you sense?”
Vessla tilted her head slightly a moment but, ultimately, shook her head. “I do not think so.”
King Gorium raised his brows. “Really? What then do your instincts tell you, my dear?”
“I am not sure as yet.” She was tapping her chin with a forefinger. “But, rest assured, I will find out.”
Steve led Sonya to the center of the marble floor and then faced her, taking her hands in the first position of the Dance of Morinkine as he was taught. She hesitated, however, and looked confused.
“They didn’t show you?” he asked, to which she shook her head no. He frowned at that. “And I’m far from a qualified teacher.” With no other option left available, Steve simply shrugged and then stepped close. “I guess we’ll just have to do it our way.”
Vessla looked at them quizzically. “Look, Father,” she said.
King Gorium watched over a sip of wine as his two guests danced. The two young people moved in time with the music but so closely together their bodies nearly touched. Steve’s forearms pressed lightly on Sonya’s sides with his fingers interlaced behind her back and her own hands upon his shoulders.
“It is certainly…unusual,” the king remarked.
“Yes,” Vessla agreed, sounding wholly intrigued. Half turning to him she said, “Shall we, Father?”
He dabbed at his lips with a cloth napkin and then nodded. “Indeed.” Taking his daughter by the hand, they departed for the dance floor.
“I wonder,” Steve mused, “why I haven’t seen you until now?”
Sonya’s shoulders rose and fell. “It doesn’t really matter, it was only a day. You make it sound like a week.”
“It’s not that. Just—something that was said to me earlier.” He could not explain better than that..
“What?” she asked.
“It’s nothing. Forget it.”
She nodded, apparently willing to let the matter drop. “These clothes seem to suit you,” she said changing the subject. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look more handsome.”
Steve half smiled in mild embarrassment and his blush made her laugh. She pulled him close and hugged him. “Okay, that was adorable!”
That only made the heat rush to his cheeks all the more so he held her and tried to hide it in the depths of her hair. She smelled magnificently of wildflowers in early spring.
He pulled back and turned at a tapping on his shoulder to find the king and his daughter dancing next to them.
“Certainly you did not think to keep your beautiful friend all evening?” King Gorium said jovially. He released his daughter and bowed to Sonya, who responded with a curtsy of her own. King Gorium chuckled cheerily as he led her a dozen steps away and proceeded to show her the first steps to the Dance of Morinkine.
Steve watched all this dubiously but said nothing. Instead, he bowed to Vessla and took her hands in his to begin the same dance but she, however, surprised him by stepping close and snaking her arms up around his neck as Sonya had done. She smiled sensuously as she looked in his eyes and the crystal flickered unnoticed as Steve suddenly felt the air around him grow hot. He distrusted this immensely but Eegrin had warned him of her father’s intentions, so it was just a matter of not letting her get under his skin.
Vessla’s wide, innocent eyes looked up fully into his own as he placed his hands on her slender waist, and she reached up with the tips of her fingers and stroked his hair at the back of his head. Slowly they moved in time with the music and, with every step, she incrementally drew him closer and closer until soon her full breasts pressed against him. Drawing so close, Steve’s fingertips now touched the smooth, soft skin across her bare back and he found it increasingly difficult to ignore the gorgeous beauty pressing herself against him.
Maintain, maintain, he thought.
Vessla adjusted her wings and Steve found they now pressed his hands firmly against her flesh. Her skin felt cool to the touch but Steve knew this was only because she was setting his own body on fire. His heartbeat raced and he felt hot all over in response to the seductive press of her form and the sultry invitation of her eyes that never looked away from his own. One thing was certain, he thought idly, that if he did marry her he would be the envy of men on two worlds.
Steve blinked his surprise at the train of his thoughts. Good lord, what am I thinking!?
The music ended and Vessla stepped back from him, applauding the musicians, as did the other lords and ladies around them. Steve breathed a sigh of relief as he applauded—incredibly relieved, in fact. Vessla laughed, a beautiful sound, and led him back to King Gorium’s table by the hand. Apparently, she was not through with him yet.
The King and Sonya arrived at the same time and all four took their seats. Servants came then and poured a rich purple wine into goblets of polished silver.
“To the future,” King Gorium said raising his goblet.
Sonya, of course, did not understand but she apparently recognized a toast when she saw one and raised her own glass into the air, as did Steve and Vessla their own. The King took a mighty swig while Sonya and Vessla only sipped. Steve did neither and was quite happy to put his wine down untouched.
The King noticed this immediately. “You do not drink with us?” he asked.
“It’s not the wine or anything,” Steve assured him. He needed an excuse so he offered the first that came to mind. “Where I come from I am not old enough to drink.” He glanced cautiously at the princess, reminding himself that keeping his wits—all of them—was definitely the right course.
“Ah, but you forget,” the King said. “This is not Earth. This is Mithal. Here you are my guest, and for a guest it is customary to drink. Please, a single goblet for the evening and I shall be appeased.”
Steve thought about it and then finally agreed. “All right,” he said. “One.”
King Gorium and Steve laughed loudly as they touched goblets in yet another toast. “Here is to beautiful women!” the king boasted. A tiny rivulet of grease ran down his beard and he wiped at it with his hand, smearing it all the more.
“Yes!” Steve replied with equal enthusiasm. He swallowed once and replaced the goblet hard on the table, sloshing it as he did so. His eyes refused to focus on any distant objects so he focused instead on the succulent meats and crisp fruits and vegetables before him. Never before could he remember eating so well and so much, though it was his goblet of wine that truly puzzled him. The dark purple liquid was barely lower than the rim but he could swear no servant had been by to fill it. Beside him the king swallo
wed another mouthful of mutton and Steve asked of him, “Wait, wait. Who’s been filling our cups?”
“No one,” the king replied. “They never run dry.”
The two of them looked at each other for a moment, then burst out with laughter that rang off the walls.
“No, really,” the king said between guffaws. “They are magical. Fill them with any liquid, and they will slowly refill themselves until you dump them out all at once.”
Again they laughed.
At some point that Steve could not pinpoint exactly, the atmosphere had changed from one of a formal, proper gathering of well-behaved nobles to a rowdy bacchanal. Men and women everywhere raised their goblets in loud toasts amid rapacious feasting that worsened by the hour. On the marble floor a few couples had even taken to experimenting with the close-quarters dancing Steve and Sonya—then later Steve and Vessla—performed earlier. And they found they liked it. Combined with a little wine to loosen the inhibitions and some interesting modifications had begun to transpire.
Steve opened his mouth to say something to the king when Vessla’s finger preempted him with a touch beneath his chin. She then gently eased his face toward her and he leaned with the motion, offering no resistance.
“Do you like me, Steven?” she asked.
“Of course,” he answered shortly, perplexed at such an odd question. “Why wouldn’t I?” A hot flash washed over him and he couldn’t honestly say if it was the wine or Vessla’s seductive tone of voice.
“Would you like to go for a walk?” she then asked, placing her hand over his and stroking his skin with her thumb.
“I’m not so sure I should,” Steve said, suspicious even through the fog of wine. “I’m your father’s guest. It would be rude.”
Vessla leaned her head to the side and looked to her father. “Father, would you excuse us?”
“By all means!” King Gorium bellowed with an exaggerated upward throw of his hand. “The hour is late and there is much to do tomorrow. Vessla, I doubt our young friend here can find his way back to his chambers. Be a dear and escort him. I shall join you in a while.”
Steve could not be sure, for the wine made it difficult to think altogether clearly, but walking back to his chambers with her meant he would be alone with her. Didn’t Eegrin warn him about a situation like this? There was a reason, but for the life of him he could not remember why? Then…
What am I thinking? It’s a party! He dismissed the idea making the sound of a motorboat with his lips. Stop being so paranoid and just go to bed.
Steve opened the door of his chambers and Vessla glided into the room beyond unbidden. He inhaled the sweet fragrance of her perfume as it washed over him and forced down a sudden urge to kiss her with a shake of his head.
What am I thinking? Steve walked in after her, stubbornly pushing those thoughts aside with yet another shake of his head, but the sudden vertigo this caused him made him stagger.
Vessla whirled and caught him up in her arms, staggering back herself beneath his weight. The two of them stumbled several steps—him forward and her backward— before collapsing together upon the bed. Vessla gave a shriek and then laughed, but Steve just wanted the room to stop spinning. He closed his eyes for several seconds and, slowly, the world began to unwind. When he opened them again he found himself propped on his forearms, staring down into the light green depths of Vessla’s eyes. From this angle her gown left little to the imagination and the swell of her breasts heaved with each breath.
“Princess,” he said, trying with a heroic mental effort not to stare at her bosom, “I think mayb—mmph!” In mid-sentence she reached up and pulled him down to her. Her kiss was excruciatingly sweet and in his fog Steve gave himself over to it, his body reacting immediately to the voluptuous form pressed against his with an eighteen year-old’s yearning.
I will join you shortly, the king had said.
Steve broke off the kiss with a look akin to horror. He could just imagine her father’s reaction to walking in on them in such a compromising position and Steve’s…well, rather embarrassing state. Amid thoughts of that awful possibility, the additional consideration of what he was allowing to happen entered his clouded mind and he rolled desperately away from her and onto the floor.
“What is wrong, beloved?” she asked propping herself up on one elbow as he scrambled clumsily to his feet.
Steve threw his cape back around behind him and then took several calming moments to cool his engines. “It feels so right, that’s what’s wrong.”
Vessla giggled. “Of course it feels right. You and I are destined. And soon, it shall be as it was foretold.”
Steve went back to the door and then closed it—not because he wanted privacy, but because it was the perfect excuse to put some distance between them. “I don’t see it that way, Princess.”
“But it is,” she countered coming gracefully to her feet. “It is said the Third Power will wed to royal lineage, but only to one possessed of magic.” She indicated herself with elbows bent and palms up to either side. “I am both. And soon my father will be here to offer you my hand in marriage.” Her eyes twinkled then and the corners of her mouth curled in a sly, seductive smile. “Then after the wedding you and I can have some real fun.”
Just the way she said those words made Steve groan with longing. Somewhere inside his teenage brain a voice was screaming, ‘Yes! What the hell are you waiting for?’ At the moment he didn’t honestly know; but he did know making any major decisions—or doing anything monumentally stupid—in his current state of mind was a really, really bad idea.
“Will you stop acting so silly? Come and join me on the bed so we can talk.”
“Oh, no,” Steve replied holding up his hands, palms out. His father’s advice leaped forward from the recesses of his mind and gave him much-needed resolve. It was crude and very blunt; but at the time his father was speaking to hormone-surging young man of fifteen who was beginning to date in earnest. In-your-face candor was the only way to make it stick. “Remember, son,” he had said, “a hard-on has no conscience.”
Just then, truer words had never been spoken.
“All right,” Vessla said kicking off her shoes.
Steve noted despairingly even her feet were cute. God forbid he should ever catch a glimpse of her legs.
“If you’ll not come to me, beloved, then you leave me no choice.”
Steve edged up against the wall as Vessla stalked him with eyes like a hungry predator. She backed him into a corner and spread her wings, cutting off any chance he had of eluding her further. He closed his eyes tight, determined to refuse her with every last ounce of his will if necessary. Nothing she would do would phase him.
Vessla’s fingers reached out and found his rib cage. Steve eyes flashed open and he jumped reflexively. Grinning evilly, she continued to probe her fingers up and down his sides. “Hey, stop!” he said with an accidental smile. Don’t!” He squirmed and dodged, twisted and turned, but Vessla’s artful fingers never missed and she laughed delighted.
“Hey, come on! Knock it—ha ha!” His reactions to every prod and tweak only seemed to spur her on. Steve had to get out of that corner and he knew the only way to do that was to fight fire with fire. He placed his right arm about her waist, pulling her close, while his left hand tickled her mercilessly. Her eyes went wide and she squealed and screamed in a fit of laughter, struggling desperately to free herself from his embrace.
“Don’t! Stop!” she pleaded.
Steve relented then, giving her a chance to catch her breath. Her laughter faded away until only a winsome smile remained. “Did you say, ‘don’t stop’?” he asked. Vessla squealed anew as his fingers danced over the sensitive areas of her mid-section. Her legs buckled and Steve eased her onto the floor. He tickled her a few seconds more as she struggled beneath him, enjoying the sound of her laughter, before he got up and left her a giggling mess on the floor.
Her laughter faded away as she wrapped her arms about herself,
then eventually moved into a sitting position. “You cheat,” she said, her wings beating the air once in emphasis.
Despite himself, Steve was smiling. “I call it self-defense.”
The princess tilted her head as she regarded him intently. For his part, Steve shifted uncomfortably under that scrutiny.
“Why do you put so much effort into resisting me?” she asked. “Do you not consider me a worthy bride?”
“No, it’s not that,” Steve said, taking a seat on the bed. He paused on the verge of speaking, for his clouded mind fought to sift out what he could and could not tell her. If she knew the whole truth, or at least what he believed to be the truth, her father would force him to marry her against his will. But if he did not tell her…
“I have never been with a man before, if that is what worries you.”
Steve smiled. Oh, if it were only as simple as that.
“Vessla, it isn’t any of that. I just—we’ve only known each other for a few hours. You only want to marry me because your father believes I’m the Third Power.” He let his head fall into his hands. That wine had been potent and he still struggled under its intoxicating influence.
Vessla stood and then crossed over to where he sat to lift his chin gently with both hands. She then seated herself in his lap and proceeded to kiss him lightly, first on the ear, then on the cheek, stopping only when her mouth hovered scant inches from Steve’s own. Her breath was hot and moist and Steve inhaled this like the spice of life. Seconds passed and still she held her ground, pressing no closer, but each passing moment burning him like the blade of a hot knife. This was too much to bear. He leaned forward, hungry for her lips, and kissed her. She closed her eyes as she met him, her own hands moving to either side of his face. Steve’s arms went around her as he surrendered to his need, too caught up in what he was feeling to question the wisdom of it. One thought alone dominated all others: he wanted her.
He felt a heat building within his chest and the crystal flickered. The memory of that magical sensation triggered another thought then and it hit him like a slap across the face.
Third Power Page 26