Fallen Star (26 page)

“Helping you relax.” He took a drink of wine
then set the glass aside and slipped off her shoes.

He was going to rub her feet, without having
to be asked first? She didn’t think it was humanly possible for…but
then Odintar wasn’t human. And neither was she. How long would it
take her to absorb those basic facts? She wasn’t resisting the
truth anymore. Denial was utterly pointless. Still, her mind kept
slipping back into her old way of thinking. Of course, she’d spent
twenty-six years as a human and only a week as a
Bilarrian/Rodyte/human hybrid. She just needed time.

After tugging off her socks, he caught one
foot between his hands and warmed her skin. “It was warm all day.
How can your feet be this cold?”

He sounded amused not repulsed so she
chuckled. “You should feel them in the winter.”

“I intend to.”

She looked at his face, but he was looking
at her feet. “There was something about my mother’s story that
doesn’t make sense.”

He looked at her, but kept on rubbing.
“What’d she say?”

“There was an Ontarian using the name Bill
with Gerrod the first night she met him. Her roommate hooked up
with him.”

“Why did that surprise you?”

“It would have been twenty-seven years ago.
Weren’t the Dirty Dozen in custody by then?”

He paused and speculation clouded his gaze.
“If Pern Keir was calling the shots…” Staring into the distance, he
couldn’t seem to organize his thoughts. “We presumed it ended when
we rounded up the Dirty Dozen. Maybe they just became more careful,
more secretive.”

“I can’t help feeling like we’ve just
scratched the surface of this mess.”

His gaze moved back to hers, but the shadows
remained. “We originally thought the Shadow Assassins contacted the
Rodytes. Now it seems more likely that it was the other way around.
I think the Shadow Assassins have been pulled into a much larger
Rodyte scheme.”

“But what are the Rodytes really after?” She
didn’t feel qualified to draw conclusions. So much of this was new
to her. “They created a hybrid gene pool. So what can be done with
that?”

“I think they’re after what they’ve always
been after.”

“Magic?”

He nodded. “Pern passed his obsession with
magic on to his daughter and she’s pursued it with a
vengeance.”

She sighed and let the unanswered questions
slip to the back of her mind. “I guess we always want what we can’t
have.” The observation sent a pang of longing through her soul.
They’d had sex three times since her emotional overload, twice that
night and again the following morning. Each time had been
physically satisfying, yet emotionally hollow. He refused to spill
his seed where it belonged and she refused to open her mind. Maybe
they better talk about this before they went any further. Unsure
how to politely introduce the topic, she just dove in. “I don’t
want you to, you know, pull out at the end.”

His hands paused mid-squeeze and he looked
into her eyes. “I told you what will happen if I don’t.”

“I’m willing to risk it.”

“There’s no risk involved. If I come inside
you, our link will expand. Are you ready to accept me into your
mind?”

This was bassackwards from how her love life
usually worked. Always before, she had been the one wanting more of
an emotional connection. “I’m ready for more.” He smiled and leaned
toward her. She laughed and pressed her fingers to his lips, “But
not until you finish my foot rub. That feels
so
good.” He
returned to his task as she relaxed against the arm of the sofa.
“So what did you guys talk about while I was chatting with Tori?
Did you learn anything new?”

“I did most of the talking, but Elias said
they’ve figured out that the power spikes they’ve been tracking are
caused by teleportation. Unfortunately, they can’t tell if the
person is arriving or departing, so it’s not as useful as they’d
hoped.”

“That’s too bad. We can use any advantage at
this point.” He switched to her other foot. “I ran into Morgan in
the hallway. She really is gorgeous. She’s never been married?”

“I don’t know. She’s unattached now and
seems to prefer it that way. Shall I ask if she’ll be our
third?”

She slapped his leg. “Pervert.”

He just chuckled and kept on rubbing. “I
have a present for you. Would you like it now or shall we wait
until tomorrow?”

“Seriously? You can’t tell me about a
present and then expect me to wait for it.”

He lowered her feet to the floor then stood
and offered his hands. “Anticipation can be exhilarating, but
that’s a lesson for another night.”

“Glad to hear it.” She let him pull her to
her feet then looped her arms around his neck and whispered, “I
think part of the problem is I’m still struggling to believe anyone
as amazing as you can be real.”

He smiled. “I’m real and I’m glad you think
I’m amazing.” He brushed his lips over hers, but it was more of a
promise than a kiss. “Come on.” He headed straight for her
bedroom.

“Don’t I get my present before we—hold on.”
She dug in her heels and halted their progress. “Why do you
suddenly know your way around my apartment?” There were three
identical doors off the main hallway. How had he known which one
led to her bedroom?

“I stopped by earlier and dropped off your
surprise. Now do you want it or not?”

“Oh I want all sorts of things.”

He laughed and pushed open her bedroom
door.

She stumbled to a stop just inside the
doorway. Spread across her bed was the most beautiful ball gown
she’d ever seen. Strapless, with a billowy skirt, the dress was
constructed of an extraordinary fabric that looked silver from one
angle and smoky gray from another. The bottom half of the skirt had
been lavishly embellished with embroidery and beads that shimmered
like tiny raindrops.

“It’s stunning. Where did you get this?”

Another warm chuckle made her look at him.
“I had it delivered.”

“From?”

He succumbed to a guilty smile. “I told Aria
what I wanted and she did the rest.”

Pressing her hand over her pounding heart,
Jillian stared at her gift in wide-eyed wonder. “This came from
Bilarri?” She was almost afraid to touch it.

“Try it on. We had to guess on your
measurements. Let’s see how we did.”

“I can’t wear this. It looks like something
off the red carpet in Hollywood, or…”

“It’s fit for royalty?” He grinned. “That’s
the point. You need to accept who you are and the sort of life
you’ll have once this crisis is over.”

The sort of life she’d have? Was he giving
her a soft place to fall as he pulled away?

In an instant he was there in front of her,
his hands framing her face. “You are my mate. All you have to do is
accept the fact and I will never leave your side.”

Her lips trembled as she rapidly blinked
back tears. “I want to believe that, but—”

“Then believe it. If you doubt it, look into
my mind, my heart. I want you there, need you there. You’re the one
holding back.”

“I want to try on the dress.” She waited for
disappointment to shadow his gaze and then added, “After you make
love to me.”

For a fraction of a second, she thought he’d
agree then he solemnly shook his head. “Put it on. You can’t accept
the reality of my love until you accept your new reality.”

She knew he loved her. His devotion was
there in every touch, every smile. Still, she’d never heard him say
it before. He watched her expectantly, obviously waiting for her to
obey his directive. “If it means that much to you.”

“It does.”

“Then leave the room. I want to enjoy the
big reveal.”

“Fine,” he muttered. “Call if you need help
with the zipper.”

She waited until he left then quickly
undressed. Her bra would have to go, but the skirt was full, so she
could keep her panties. After pausing to admire the fabric, she
picked up the dress and stepped into the middle of the billowing
skirt. She smoothed the stiff bodice into place and smiled as she
discovered the discreet side zipper. The dress fit as if it had
been made for her, probably because it had.

Standing well back from the dresser, she
could see the entire effect. The bodice was simple, unadorned,
designed to showcase the woman who wore it, while the skirt was
lavish yet elegant. Was this really a glimpse at the rest of her
life? Without wasting time on the question, she smoothed her hair
back from her face and left the bedroom.

Odintar turned as the door opened and a slow
smile spread across his lips. “It’s a beautiful dress and you look
wonderful in it.”

She smiled, ridiculously pleased by his
praise. She’d danced before hundreds of people and all of their
applause hadn’t warmed her as well as Odintar’s smile.

“Come here.” He held out his hand.

The skirt dragged a bit as she crossed to
him. Apparently the gown had been meant to be worn with heels. He
pulled her into his arms, not the passionate bear hug she’d been
expecting, but the proper stance for a ballroom dance. The room
around her skewed, blurring with the now familiar rush of
sensation. A moment of darkness and then she found herself in a
massive candlelit ballroom.

Her feet were suddenly adorned in snug,
high-heeled sandals and his appearance had morphed as well. He wore
a more elaborate version of Indric’s uniform. The black and gold
suited him perfectly. He had never looked more appealing.

The soft strains of a lilting waltz drifted
in on a warm breeze. The candlelight flickered and Odintar began to
dance her around the room. He was always light on his feet, but she
hadn’t expected his obvious skill.

“Why did you learn how to dance?”

He grinned. “I frequently work undercover.
It requires a wide range of skills.”

“Is this room real or entirely of your own
making?” With dramatically vaulted ceilings and a highly polished
parquet floor, it was hard to believe he’d imagined every detail.
Four massive chandeliers bathed the entire room in warm, golden
light that perfectly matched the cream-and-gilt walls.

“This is Indric’s palace, or actually one of
them. Hautell is the largest region on Bilarri, but San Adrin is
the richest.”

She stepped back out of his arms. Why was he
doing this? “This will never be my home. I’m an American. I live in
Las Vegas.”

He sighed and held out his hand. “I don’t
want to argue. That’s not why I showed you this.”

“Why did you show me this?” She crossed her
arms, rubbing her suddenly chilly skin.

“You’re a professional dancer, a minor
celebrity. I know that part of you craves the excitement, the
notoriety.”

She didn’t deny it. Creating art with
movements was its own reward, but she was honest enough to admit
she enjoyed the attention.

“On Bilarri you will have that and more.” He
closed the space between them and resumed the proper hold. The
music swelled as he guided her through several gliding steps. She
enjoyed the swaying motion of their bodies and the romantic
absurdity of it all. He spun her around then bent close and
whispered, “I doubt you’ll miss the stage once you learn to
fly.”

She looked down and gasped. They were three
feet off the floor, swirling through the air as if they belonged
there. “But you’re doing this. It’s not real.”

“You’re empowered by Air.” They slowly
floated down as he took her face between his hands. “Reality will
become whatever you choose to make it.”

“Twenty years from now,” she grumbled.

He smiled. “Sorry, I can’t help with that.
It will take time and hard work, but Indric sensed immense
potential in you.”

“I don’t want to think about Indric or
Bilarri. Tonight was supposed to be a reprieve from all of
that.”

“You’re right.” He lifted her hands to his
lips and kissed her fingers.

The ballroom blurred and she swayed toward
him, not prepared for the sudden rush. “I didn’t want you to shut
it down.” Her living room felt tiny and shabby after the grandeur
of the ballroom.

He chuckled. “Do you want to go back?”

“No.” She’d enjoyed seeing him all dressed
up, but what she really wanted was to see him naked. “I want to go
into the bedroom and let go of my past and everything else that’s
holding me back. Help me embrace the future.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Taking him by the hand, she led him back
into the bedroom. “I want it all tonight. I want to join as we were
meant to join.” He swept her into his arms and kissed her
passionately. By the time he released her mouth she was breathless
and dizzy. “I need to touch you.”

She tugged his T-shirt off over his head and
reached for his jeans, but her hands were trembling too badly to
function properly.

He kissed the tip of her nose then unzipped
his pants, leaving them to sag around his lean hips as he dealt
with the rest of his clothing. He kicked off his shoes, peeled back
his socks, then quickly shed his jeans. After a quick pause, he
held his arms out to the side. “Touch me,
gennari
.” There
was a hint of challenge in his tone. “If that’s what you need. Take
as long as you like.”

Her skirt swished as she stepped closer and
placed one hand on his chest, the other on his hip. She slid her
hands up to his shoulder and then down, exploring the shape and
texture of his impressive arms. So strong, so dependable, these
arms would protect and support her as they faced each new
challenge.

“I take that back.” Already his voice
sounded hoarse and harsh. “Take off the dress and I’ll let you
touch me.”

She should argue that he couldn’t “let” her
do anything, but the chauvinistic phrase was doing unexpected
things to her insides. He came from a culture where men didn’t
worry about seeming overbearing or crass. He was like a medieval
knight or a highlander from the historical romances she devoured
like candy. Getting naked was a small price to pay for an
all-access pass.