Everlasting (6 page)

Read Everlasting Online

Authors: Iris Johansen

BOOK: Everlasting
8.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Her tongue moistened her dry lips. “Zack…” Her gaze dropped helplessly to the sheer chiffon veiling her breasts. Her nipples were so exquisitely sensitive now that even the light wreath of material was causing them to ache.

His eyes followed hers and then grew midnight dark as he saw the hard, pointed tips thrusting at the material. “Your breasts?” His hand instantly reached out and hovered over her right breast. She could feel the warmth, though he wasn't touching her. “So swollen,” he whispered, his eyes on the firm globes rising from the chiffon. “So ripe and swollen and ready.” His hand closed suddenly over her breast and a wild shudder ran through her. “Ready for me.”

“Yes. Oh, yes.” The cry was wrung from her. “Please, please
do
something!”

“Shh, I will.” He pulled her onto his lap, settling her astride him. His fingers were trembling as he pushed the chiffon the last few inches and bared her breasts. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “Sweet heaven, you're beautiful, Kira.” He lowered his head slowly. She felt his warm breath, then the firmness of his lips, and she gave a low, frantic half-moan, her fingers tangling in his hair, bringing him to her.

Kira heard his low laugh. Strangely, it held no hint of triumph, only an exultant joy. “You
want
me. Lord, I love to know that.” The words were
muffled against her breast. Then his mouth was opening, taking her, his tongue running over one breast in wild delight and then switching to her other breast to suckle and pleasure her with a hunger that soothed even as it inflamed.

She was vaguely aware of his hands on her thighs pushing up the chiffon while his lips and teeth nibbled, nipped, and then soothed with a deep, primitive enjoyment. His chest was shuddering with every breath and his hands were suddenly frantic as they slipped under the gown and cupped her naked buttocks in his warm palms. Another shock, she thought hazily. Every different touch was a fresh shock to her nerve endings, but a shock that she accepted happily and with amazing rapidity. He was pressing her closer and she felt his iron-hard warmth against the center of her womanhood. She nestled even closer and moaned with hunger. Hunger. She had never known such hunger. He kept taking, giving, but it made no difference. The hunger kept growing, sharpening with every passing moment.

“We have to stop, you know,” he muttered.
His hands tightened on her flesh as if to refute his words. “Kira…”

“No!” He couldn't stop now. The hunger was so intense it was hurting her. Was this what he meant when he said that he was hurting? Her hands gentled his hair as she felt a rush of almost maternal feeling. “Please. Don't stop.”

“Do you think I want to?” he growled. His eyes closed. “It's out of control. I didn't expect you to be this… loving.”

Loving. The word should have been out of place, but somehow it wasn't. Lust alone could never be this emotionally intense—there had to be a strong element of love in it. Her fingers ran through his hair yearningly, adoring the crisp texture between her fingers. “That's the way I feel,” she said softly. “I want…” Her voice trailed off. There was so much she wanted all at once that she suddenly felt as though she'd been catapulted into a strange emotional maze. Assuagement on a physical level alone wouldn't be enough, yet what else could she hope for? Zack was a stranger.

“So do I,” he said huskily. His eyes opened to reveal unbearable strain. “But we can't have it.
Not yet.” He was swiftly shifting her off him and standing up. “It has to be right.”

“Right?” He was
leaving
her. She couldn't keep the note of disbelief and frustration out of her voice as she watched him stride swiftly toward the door. “Isn't it a little late to worry about—” She cut the words off abruptly. Her fingers automatically went to her bodice and pulled up the straps of the gown. “I don't understand any of this. Why did you do this to us if you weren't going to finish what you started?”

He turned at the door, his face taut with pain. “I know you don't understand. I told you, I miscalculated. I thought I could take a little and lessen this damn hunger I have for you. But it didn't work out that way. It only made it worse.” His gaze traveled over her and she felt as if he were touching her again. “I'm not even going to be able to look at you or touch your hand without wanting this again.”

“Why?” she asked. Her hands tightened on the arms of the chair. “What's the difference whether it's now or later.”

“You have the right to
know
me,” he said
harshly. “I may not be able to hold out for very long, but I don't want to be a faceless stranger to you when I first make love to you. I want it to be right, dammit. If I didn't think it was important, do you believe I would have let you go?” He drew a deep, shuddering breath. “You'd better get dressed. We'll be leaving for Tamrovia within the hour.”

He closed the door with quiet restraint and it seemed more explosive than a slam to Kira.

She gazed blankly at the door for a moment before she could even consider moving from the chair. She had a vague feeling she should be resentful toward Zack for having wrested the decision from her so summarily. Yet how could she regret the fact that he had been willing to undergo such painful self-denial in order to spare her the possibility of feeling cheapened?

He wanted her to have a chance to get to know him, but in a strange, incomprehensible way she felt that getting to know him was completely unnecessary. She did know him. She knew he was honest and had a code of ethics that would be even harder on him than on those around him.
She knew that his loyalty, once given, would be as unshakable as those mountains he had claimed as his own. The knowledge was so fundamentally instinctive she didn't even question it.

Something was happening to them, and although she was still bewildered, she was no longer frightened. Instead, she was beginning to experience a buoyant exhilaration like nothing she had ever known before. It was as if a wonderfully thrilling adventure were hovering on the horizon and all she had to do was move toward it and it would be
hers
. Dear Lord, how she wanted that adventure!

She jumped up and bent to retrieve the yellow silk robe on the floor. She had to shower, dress, and then repack her night things. She cast a glance at the covered tray on the bed and made a face. The food was probably stone-cold by now. Even if it was still edible, she was too emotion-charged to find food appetizing at the moment. Perhaps she would be able to eat something later on the plane.

Her steps were quick and light, with just a hint
of ebullience, as she crossed the carpet toward the adjoining bathroom.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” Zack said, his eyes narrowed on her face. “I had no idea you'd be this happy to get back to Tamrovia. Somehow I got the impression you weren't overly fond of your native land.”

“I'm not. Oh, that's not true. I guess I actually love it.” Kira slipped her arms into the pearl-gray suit jacket she'd removed for the trip. “It's just that I always feel a sense of oppression when I step off a plane onto Tamrovian soil.” She wrinkled her nose. “Which doesn't indicate that I'm particularly sensitive. Stefan is known to have the same effect on the entire country. No one has ever told him monarchs can't censor the press and outlaw trade unions in this century. Or, if they have, he hasn't really heard it.”

“And no habeas corpus,” Zack said thoughtfully. “His particular form of deafness could be very dangerous.”

“Why do you think Stefan has tightened the
exit visa restrictions and strengthened the complement of border guards? The Tamrovian factories are all pitifully undermanned because workers are leaving Tamrovia for Germany and Switzerland. Who can blame them?”

A curious smile touched Zack's face. “You seem very well informed for a ‘scatterbrained madcap.’”

Her glance slid away from his. “It's common knowledge. I just don't bury my head in the sand the way Stefan does.”

“Perhaps.” He unfastened his seat belt as the Learjet came to a rolling stop before a hangar in the private sector of the airport. “You didn't answer my question. Why are you in such good spirits all of a sudden?”

She still didn't look at him. “Why shouldn't I be happy? You've promised to free Marna and that's very important to me.”

His hand reached out and fastened on her arm. She could feel the warmth and strength of it through the linen blazer. His eyes met hers with searching gravity. “No games. Truth.”

She opened her lips to make another evasive answer and then closed them again. She didn't want
to evade him, even if it meant exposing her vulnerability. “I don't know,” she said simply. “I'm just happy. I think it has something to do with you, Zack.”

His hand tightened on her arm for the briefest instant. “Dear Lord, I hope so.” Then his hand was releasing her and he was rising to his feet. “Come on. Let's get this show on the road. The sooner we can get Marna out, the sooner we can move on to more important things.”

She raised an inquiring brow. “For instance?”

His eyes twinkled. “Why, the
mondava
, of course.”

She cast him an exasperated glance. “Now who's playing games? If you won't let me in on the big secret, it's not very kind of you to tease me with it.”

“Sorry, you're right. I'm not being fair.” His voice lowered to velvet softness. “I think I went a little giddy for a moment. You see, I find I'm very happy too. Strange, isn't it?”

She was having trouble tearing her gaze away from his. She was sure his eyes spoke of many fascinating things if only she could understand. She
stood and picked up her handbag. “We haven't decided what story we're going to tell Stefan about our relationship. Hadn't we better put our heads together?”

“Not exactly the portions of our anatomies I was interested in joining,” he murmured. “But if you insist…” His brow gathered in a thoughtful frown. “Where were you six months ago?”

“Sedikhan.”

“Then that's where we met. I was really in seclusion in Switzerland, putting together a pharmaceutical combine, but only a few people know that. It wouldn't have been unheard of for me to fly to Marasef for a conference with Alex Ben Raschid and run into you there. I took one look at you and—
voilà
—instant passion.”

She frowned. “I'm not the kind of woman who inspires instant insanity in men, Zack. Do you think anyone will believe it?”

He slowly shook his head. “What am I going to do with you? In case you didn't notice, only this morning I gave an extemporaneous demonstration of how insane you're capable of driving a
man.” His finger gently touched the hollow of her cheek. “I promise to be very convincing. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said softly. Happiness bubbled up in her like a clear, golden stream. She turned away as the door of the Learjet opened and stairs were rolled up to the entrance. “If you don't think Stefan will think something is fishy.”

“Let me take care of it. I've probably handled more difficult customers than your brother Stefan. Corporate types are far more ruthless than diplomats.”

“I just might do that. I haven't had any great degree of luck in influencing Stefan up to the present.”

“I've noticed,” he said dryly as he took her elbow and urged her toward the door. “I'm surprised that Marna didn't just put a spell on him instead of your unfortunate suitors.”

“She couldn't. It would have been a gesture of disloyalty to the royal household and would have broken the tradition that binds her people to the Rubinoff dynasty.” She suddenly frowned as her gaze swept over his big body, still garbed in the
sweatshirt and jeans he'd put on that morning. “Where is your jacket?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“You can't go outside like that.”

He went still. “Is Her Highness ashamed to be seen with me?”

“Don't be stupid,” she said crossly. “It may be hot in Tucson, but it's autumn in the Balkans, and it can be very cool here in October. You can't run around just in jeans and a sweatshirt. You might catch cold.”

“Really.” A flicker of tenderness transformed the wary hardness of his face. “Well, I certainly wouldn't want to do that. A cold in the head might prove very inconvenient at the moment.” He opened a shallow closet, pulled out a beige suede jacket, and slipped it on. “Satisfied?”

She nodded contentedly. “Yes. Now you're being sensible.”

“I'm known to be a very sensible man.” He directed a grin at her before he stepped back to allow her to precede him down the stairs. “Sometimes.”

“Your dual personality?” she asked over her
shoulder. “I would think you'd feel very Jekyll and Hyde with—”

“Who's that?” Zack's gaze had focused on someone beyond her shoulder and his voice was so sharp it startled her.

Her head turned to follow his gaze and she unconsciously tensed. “We're evidently about to be honored,” she said quietly as she watched the tall, lean man approaching them with leisurely catlike grace. “It's Sandor Karpathan.”

Zack gave a low whistle. “This little junket may prove more entertaining than I thought. I can see why he made you uneasy. He has—”

“Condar
. Strength,” Kira finished flatly. “Marna says he is a
disek
, one of the exceptional ones who can be anything he wants to be. But
diseks
can be evil as well as good. She doesn't trust him. She says there is something not as it should be.”

Condar
. Yes, the word suited Karpathan, just as the impression inherent in the word
power
fitted Zack. He was in his middle thirties and his slender body was clothed in a flawlessly tailored three-piece beige suit, which he wore with effortless grace. His hair was dark and barbered by a master
hand, his shoes shined to a mirror gloss. His features were just as perfect as his dress and he should have looked a trifle effeminate. But there was nothing effeminate about Sandor Karpathan. He appeared to be tough, intelligent, and dangerous.

His smile was a brilliant flash in his bronzed face as he stopped before her and bowed. “Your Highness, I was informed by immigration that you would be arriving this afternoon and I took this opportunity to come and meet you.”

Other books

Messenger by Moonlight by Stephanie Grace Whitson
Whispering Rock by Robyn Carr
Dead Again by George Magnum
Horror 2 by Stephen King y otros
Miss Misery by Andy Greenwald
The Other Language by Francesca Marciano
Popularity Takeover by Melissa de la Cruz
Break by Hannah Moskowitz
Las aventuras de Pinocho by Carlo Collodi