A Kiss of Fire: A Kiss of Magic Book 2 (15 page)

“Thank you, Triumvir Hittite.”

“I have told you often to call me Mason,” he scolded her.

“Thank you, Mason,” she corrected herself.

Mason nodded to her then left out of the door.

Amused, Dendri looked at his wife. “And yet he still calls me Adiron and I call him Hittite,” he said.

“Well he can’t call us both Adiron. And since I have taken your name, that is his only other option. Besides, you are not nearly as warm and endearing as I am.”

“Oh no?”

“No. Now, come with me,” she said, getting to her feet. “If I could lose you for a month at any given moment, I want to make the best of my time with you.”

“What did you have in mind?” he asked with a wolfish grin.

“First, a nice hot bath. Then…”

“Then?”

“Then we’ll see,” she said, a sparkle in her eyes.

Chapter Sixteen

Sin wore away at her defenses.

The next day he took her for another tour of the countryside that was now Kilt. It began to snow while they were out, but they kept each other warm in the saddle of Sin’s stallion. When they returned he brought her back to his mother’s salon where she was given books and stitching, whichever she pleased, to entertain herself. Later that afternoon he brought her into his study and they poured over the ledgers together. She was impressed that he trusted her figures when she needed scratch paper to do her tallying, whereas he kept it all in his head. He didn’t keep her just doing the tariff tallies. He made certain she had a look at every government run account Kilt had. He was exposing himself completely to her, trusting her in a way she would never have trusted anyone. Was he truly that confident that she would never see her home country again?

She wasn’t sure.

They were alone together only when they were in his study doing the ledgers, and even then he left the door ajar where anyone could see in as they passed. And there was a lot of traffic in these halls, she noticed. Mothers and children. Servants. Ambassadors and diplomats. They all seemed to have free reign over the temple. However, no one ever came into Sin’s study. It was clear it was out of bounds to others.

That night, at dinner, she took control of the conversation, refusing to let Raj Vich get a word in edgewise. Whenever he went to speak, she would jump in over him and say something, anything, to turn the conversation away from him or his opinions. At one point she saw Sin lift his napkin to his lips and heard him smother a chuckle under an affected cough. Vich’s frustration at this tactic became more and more clear at the meal wore on.

“Well you know what I think—“, Vich interrupted the conversation loudly.

“Oh yes. I'm sure I do,” Ariana cut him off once again. “You are going to say that the government should not be simply handing out supplies to the people. That it will bankrupt the crown. But I agree with Raja Sin on this matter. And investment today will pay off in the long run and the crown will be the richer for it.”

The courtiers all sent murmurs of agreement up the table.

“But I—“, Vich began again.

“Oh of course. There should be some repayment. Perhaps in seed or returned crop. Yes, that is very wise. I am glad your brother has already thought of that and made arrangements accordingly.”

“Indeed I have,” Sin said amicably. “We stake each farmer land and seed, and they then owe the crown a portion of crop or proceeds of crop in a yearly tithe until the startup costs have been repaid. The money we invest today will not only come back to us in repaid debt, but the economy will be fortified with working farms and domestic grains…rather than imports.”

“A very wise thing to do,” Ariana said. “Perhaps Sarens should do the same and encourage settlement in the wilderness. It is a hard life, just as it is here, but there are enterprising souls who will want to make their fortunes that way. Especially nons.”

“It would make more sense for your Padoni majji—your nature shamans—to settle and farm such country,” Sin said.

“True. But majji tend to be rich and contented. They do not seek out adventure much. But there are those of lower levels of skill who might take advantage. Those who are young and just starting out on their own.”

The conversation continued and between her and Sin, Vich didn’t get to speak a single opinion of his own. That night when Sin pulled her aside in a dark corner, he kissed her until she was blind drunk with passion. Then he whispered in her ear, “You are sent by God to both tempt me and ease me.”

“I am just a woman. A woman who misses her country.”

“And I am a man who wants you to find home in mine. Please, can you not open yourself to the possibility? Would it be so bad to be beloved by me?”

Until he tired of her. And part of her feared that the moment she gave in would be the beginning of the end of his infatuation with her. Why that should matter to her, she didn’t know. She should do that. She should give in, enjoy him as a lover, get her fill of him and wait for his infatuation to fade. The quicker that happened, the quicker she could return home. She could just imagine what was happening at home without her.

The thought sobered her mood and she pushed herself out of his arms.

“This is not my home,” she said simply.

Her words disturbed him. He almost seemed…hurt by them. But Ariana put that down to her imagination. There were no actual feelings involved here. This was just a game he was determined to win. Well, he would not win it that night nor any of the following nights.

Time began to move more quickly now that her days were filled. During the morning every morning they would go out for a ride, weather permitting. The weather held though, only light snow falling around them some mornings. Then she would spend the day with his mother and afternoons with him in his study. Until one day it changed.

“Today,” he said, “we hear grievances. Tomorrow we meet with ambassadors and diplomats to discuss trade agreements. Did you…would you like to join me?”

She could see what he was doing. Trying to get her involved in his government more and more every day. Probably in some hope that if she saw what it was like to rule his country, then she would agree to become his concubine.

She loathed the word and all its connotations. In Kithian society, a royal concubine only became a wife when she produced a male child. There was no way around that particular law of succession. For all he claimed he wanted to make her his wife, he couldn’t until she was a proven breeder. That kept the monarch from tying himself down to a woman barren of heirs, in their way of thinking. And only males were heirs in this society, unlike hers where male and female children inherited equally according to succession of birth. If you were firstborn, like Ariana was, then you were heir. Thus she had inherited all of her father’s lands and properties and the armies attached to them. Only a few had been set aside for Gretha, second-born. Enough to earn her a seat as a Heddah on the Heddah council, the council of district leaders. Gretha was not without power in her own right, it was simply that she had always envied what her sister had been born to over her.

“I would rather spend the day with your mother,” she said to him quietly.

She watched him digest that for a moment, watched the play of emotion across his face. He was disappointed. Frustrated. She could see it in his eyes. He wanted her to play along. To be honest, she wanted to play with him. She was fascinated by the way his government worked. She wondered exactly what these grievances were that he would be hearing. She wondered how it worked. She also would love to see how he handled his trade agreements and his ambassadors now that the face of Kith had changed so dramatically. Foreigners in trade with Kith had to know their lucrative agreements would dry up once the Kithians were producing enough grain on their own to support their country. How was he mollifying them, keeping trade costs from going through the roof as they anticipated the end to come.

However, she would not play into his hands.

This was not her country. These were not her problems. Never mind that she had begun to crave watching him work in his element, that he grew more compelling every day with every action he took. Be it a squabble between diplomats or a squabble between servants, nothing seemed to be below his notice. He had his finger on the pulse of his entire world around him. For which he depended heavily on his aides, usually the one called Lindo. The one who had brought her there.

“Come with me,” he coaxed her softly, his face bending close to hers, his lips brushing over her ear. “I know you want to see more.”

He was right of course. But she couldn’t let him be right. She couldn’t allow him to win her over about this. If she did it would spell the beginning of the end of her resistance.

She didn’t realize that he was already winning. If indeed it was just a game. But it wasn't a game to Sin. It meant everything to him. He wished that it didn’t. He wished that her refusing shake of her head didn’t sink so deep like a knife wound. But it did. Just as every bit of resistance she threw up in his face stung him like a nail ripped off to the quick. But he was determined to persevere. He would wear her down. It was only a matter of time.

Time he understood he might not have.

By having her out in public, he had exposed himself to being discovered by any Saren who might happen into his court. Or, even so, a diplomat who might go to Saren and claim to have seen her there. That too was a possibility. But he needn’t rush. It took quite a bit of time to get to Capitol City from there. Two weeks by carriage, one and a half on horseback if you were moving fast enough. He had time to spare…just not an endless quantity of it. He suspected his keen-minded captive was just as aware of that fact as he was. He wondered however that she didn’t go out of her way to ask for help from any of the passing diplomats. Not that he had seen or had been reported to him by the guards keeping a constant watch on her when he was not in the room with her.

She never dressed him down in public. Especially not when his brother was present. She had learned to manage Vich quite adroitly, much to Vich’s irritation. He was concerned for her in that respect. His brother was not one to take insult or slights lying down. He was losing in his battle of wits with Ariana, and it was beginning to wear on him. His temper was growing short. His veneer of civility was beginning to wear off. If Sin hadn’t had her under constant guard, he might have worried for her safety. She posed a threat to Vich in more ways than just the one-upmanship in a game of wits. If she became Sin’s wife, that would mean his succession to the throne had been completely removed from his hands. Such a thing might make his brother desperate. Therefore, Sin was trying to keep a cautious eye on him.

He let Ariana go to be with his mother, but it was taking a toll on him, this constant frustration. He had insinuated his mother between himself and Ariana for a reason, had kept out of the privacy of her rooms to keep himself in check, but it was getting harder and harder to let her go at night. She showed no signs of weakening…but he did. His resolve to have her come to him was deteriorating more and more every day…every time he pulled her into a dark corner and made love to her with kisses and touches, furtive and hot though they were.

Sin needed relief. He kept telling himself that it was coming…soon. But it was getting harder to believe that when she turned him away at every encounter. Still, there was no mistaking the passion with which she responded to those kisses and touches. She was as hot for him as he was for her…only she seemed to have complete control over herself.

He did not.

That was why that night, instead of pulling her into a random dark corner, he followed her into her room. He knew it was a bad idea the moment he stepped over the threshold, but he couldn’t help himself. He shut the door behind himself, heard the tumble of the lock, and then looked across the room at her with a gaze he knew to be full of his hunger for her. He knew it because she began to breathe harder. He could see her nervousness as her hands rubbed restlessly up and down her thighs and hips. Did she know just how provocative that was? Did she even realize she was doing it?

He crossed over to her, but kept three feet of distance between them.

“It is becoming harder and harder to wait for you,” he confessed on a rasp. “My instincts are to take you, blind you to any and all thoughts save the passion I know you feel for me, but in that same moment I would lose you for good. Tell me, Ariana. Tell me what I must do to win you over.”

“Return me to my home,” she said instantly.

“That I cannot do. Letting you go would devastate me. It would be worse than taking you against your will. There must be another way.”

“There is no other way,” she said. “Perhaps if you took me back home and wooed me in that way…”

“You would never accept my suit in public. Your people hate me and mine too much for it to be a wise choice. Can’t you see it is better that they think you had no choice in the matter? You can be with me and write off all responsibility for the decision.”

“I cannot act like that. It would be just as bad. To give in to you in a way they perceive as being against my will would make them hate you all the more.”

“There must be a way!”

“There isn’t!”

“I must have you,” he hissed, closing the distance between them and grabbing hold of her by her arms. “Don’t you feel anything for me at all?”

She looked away and for a sudden blinding instant he realized she was about to lie to him.

“I don’t.”

“Am I so horrible that you must lie to yourself and to me about what you crave?” He drew her up onto the tips of her toes, burying his face in her neck and the delicate smell of her. He drew his mouth up the line of her neck and felt her tremble in his hands. He nipped at the lobe of her ear. “I know you want me. As a woman wants a man, you want me. After this no other will do for you. You may not admit that now, but it will be the truth. I have felt you hot and wet for me, Ariana.”

She gasped then groaned, her body sagging into his hold. He dragged his mouth to hers and kissed her violently. Her hands clutched at the fabric of his shirt and her body clung to his. Every part of her was admitting her need, save her mind and her voice.

“Please,” she begged him. But he could not tell if she was begging him to stop or begging him to continue. He couldn’t tell anymore.