Heart Search (37 page)
“We’ll have to go there”—the tall man drew the woman away—“but now more . . . dancing.” He nodded at the fiddler, who grinned and returned to the middle of the circle, where someone had placed a carved and polished tree stump with a thick green pillow on top.
Soon the flatsweets were gone. Laev translocated the box and whirled her into the dance. Then the tune became a circle dance and all linked hands and they spun faster and faster, until the music abruptly ended and Laev pulled her into the darkness of trees. He pushed her against a thick-boled oak and she scented summer growth. His mouth took hers and his hands went behind her to curve over her butt and they were center to center and she used her breath to moan.
He grasped her wrists to link them behind his neck, wrapped his arms tight around her back. An instant later they weren’t in a grove on the Birches’ estate, but encircled by rocks on a beach. Spume broke around them, and it seemed the surf beat against the rocks in the same pulses as her heartbeat—hers and Laev’s heartbeats.
Then they were on the damp sand and their clothes were gone and he gleamed pale and was in her and all the stars in the universe danced around them as they shattered together into space.
And when a wave broke over them and cleansed them and brought the scent and the salty taste of the sea, Camellia used the dazzling Flair all around them to teleport them to her bed.
L
aev woke just before dawn, snuggled with Camellia. She felt very
good in his arms, against his body. Of course his shaft rose, but he treasured these rare moments of stillness with her. He liked her vulnerability now, the softness of her with no edges, no haunted wariness in her eyes.
aev woke just before dawn, snuggled with Camellia. She felt very
good in his arms, against his body. Of course his shaft rose, but he treasured these rare moments of stillness with her. He liked her vulnerability now, the softness of her with no edges, no haunted wariness in her eyes.
This was very good. He tried not to think that it would have been better if they’d found each other earlier.
The past was past and it seemed to him that the greeniron gates that had locked the future away had opened a crack.
Cherish the present and the warm woman, the loving they shared, the laughter. Lady and Lord knew she challenged him. He’d spent a day with her at her tearooms and was amazed at her energy, how her sharp eyes and even sharper mind noted and fixed problems while he was still soaking in the atmosphere.
Her office in Darjeeling’s Teahouse had been retinted, the furniture replaced.
He had invested in a restaurant and a social club before and knew how hard it was for the businesses to survive. Camellia made it look easy. Of course, her food was great, and it was obvious that she loved her work.
His mind drifted to the night before, when joy had pulsed through her—through them both—cycling through their link. She’d been a different woman, open and flirting. The connection with her had been amazing, the largest expansion of the golden cord between them. Even now, in sleep, the bond had contracted from what it had been in the night under the stars.
And he was fighting the urge to push. Who knew that he’d want more intimacy so soon? He’d like to spend more time with her. At odd moments, he’d considered mentioning the second office next to his ResidenceDen. She needed a place outside her businesses to work—for her next expansion idea. Drawings and holos that were neatly stacked in piles on the small table in a corner of her mainspace.
But she wasn’t progressing in this relationship as fast as he was.
She stretched and her body rubbed against his and his lust spiked. Then she rolled over and angled her head back and smiled up at him. He realized it was just light enough to see her rosy cheeks and her eyes that were the gray of a depthless ocean. She had mysteries enough for him to explore for a lifetime or several. He wanted that.
“Mmmm.” She kissed his chin.
Pleased satisfaction throbbed through Camellia. She’d given and taken ecstasy from this man last night, then provided him with a good place to sleep.
She could give more.
The thought surprised her. With her father and uncle, she supposed it was natural for her to think
give
and
take
between herself and men, and maybe keep a tally. She’d have to work on that. But she’d never felt so generous.
give
and
take
between herself and men, and maybe keep a tally. She’d have to work on that. But she’d never felt so generous.
Laev yawned and made a morning grunt and she smiled. Her man. Her lover. Her—no, man and lover were quite enough for now. His lavender eyes stared into hers and her heart seemed to expand and envelope her in dangerous love.
She swallowed, would have drawn away, but his fingers wrapped around her wrist and she couldn’t stuff the love back into herself or behind a door. Not ever again, and she was afraid.
He had her now, but didn’t know it yet. She couldn’t allow him to discover that.
“Good morning.” He smiled.
“Good morning,” she croaked. He shifted and the scent of him, man with an elusive floral fragrance—and wouldn’t he be embarrassed by that?—slid around her. She was torn between two primal impulses. To withdraw, run away. Or to open to the love, be generous to him, and to herself.
Twenty-five
L
aev lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingertips. “Pretty
Camellia.”
aev lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingertips. “Pretty
Camellia.”
“Thank you.” Yes, all her feelings were expanding like their bond and she
needed
to give with an open heart. “Laev, what are your favorite foods?”
needed
to give with an open heart. “Laev, what are your favorite foods?”
Blinking, she saw his mind engage. “Why?”
She leaned over and kissed him on the mouth, swept her tongue over his lips. “Because I want you to come to dinner. Because I want to cook for you.”
Now his eyes were wide, he grabbed a large pillow from the floor and shoved it behind his back. His gaze gleamed. “You’re going to cook for me?”
“Yes.”
“Not just pull something from the no-time.”
She just shook her head. “How do you think the no-times get stocked?
Someone
has to cook and put the meals inside the food storage at the proper temperature, hot or cold.”
Someone
has to cook and put the meals inside the food storage at the proper temperature, hot or cold.”
He laughed. “Sounds like you’ve said those words before.”
“I have.” She moved to sit cross-legged. “I make dinners for my friends, and the Licorice Family, and occasionally send dishes home with Tiana to the Mugworts.”
“The FirstFamilies have chefs,” Laev said, as if that was news. “So we usually eat fresh. But I’m sure they stock the no-time food storage units, too. I think a couple of my older female cuzes make some of the ritual foods so that offerings to the Lady and Lord are done by Family hands.” His brows drew together. “But I think they consider that more of a duty than a pleasure.”
“Um-hmm,” Camellia said. “Back to my original question. What’s your favorite food?”
He licked his lips. “What if it’s fancy?”
“I can do fancy.”
“Sure.” He stacked his hands behind his head, considered, slid his gaze to her. “Whatever I like the best?”
“That’s right, though if it’s overly fancy, I’ll have to shop and cook, it won’t be dinner tonight.”
“Hmm. A trade-off between time and quality,” he said. “Or, um, time and extra effort.” He closed his eyes again. After a moment he opened his lashes and his purple gaze met hers. “Spring greens salad, traditional Beltane clucker stew, and strawberry wine–infused strawberries with white cocoa mousse.”
The menu made her own mouth water. “I have some Beltane stew broth left from the holiday,” she said. “The other items are available. But I like to cook my stew all day, and it’s best if the strawberries soak up the wine for a couple of septhours, too. Why don’t we say dinner here tomorrow night?”
“Why don’t we?” He rolled over and took her into his arms. “And an appetizer this morning.”
She pushed against him, and with a puzzled look, he let her go. Kneeling beside him, she slid his black hair back from his face. “Let me give to you.” There, the words were out of her mouth. Though Laev might not know how momentous they were, she did.
Framing his face with both hands, enjoying the prickle of beard stubble on her palms, Camellia kissed him again on the lips, watching his eyes the whole time. They darkened, blurred.
And as she drew her mouth away, she knew that she’d made a promise. Perhaps only for the next few minutes, perhaps only for the morning, but she was completely open to him.
Giving
to him.
Giving
to him.
She slid her hands along the column of his neck, saw the hollow between his collarbones, and knew the essence of his flavor might be found at that point. It was. She flicked her tongue there, he shuddered, and she wanted to be atop him, but not yet. Again she dipped her tongue to taste. She cooked, she knew flavors, and now she knew his. She would never forget it. Man, of course, but
Laev
, with his touch of oak heritage, the very slight undertone of wild hawthorn flowers that no one but a lover would notice. She closed her eyes, feathered her mouth in small kisses along his right collarbone.
Laev
, with his touch of oak heritage, the very slight undertone of wild hawthorn flowers that no one but a lover would notice. She closed her eyes, feathered her mouth in small kisses along his right collarbone.
She didn’t feel like herself, felt more like primal woman enjoying her man, the throb of life, of sexuality hummed through her veins. She skimmed her hands down his chest, through his light chest hair, stopping to experience the thud of his heart on her palm. A vibration that ran through him, through her, connecting them both. Now the golden bond between them had no limits, was only a golden glow in her mind, enveloping them both.
Her hands went to his sides, down the frame of his chest, his flanks, tested his muscular thighs and legs and folded around his feet. She set her thumbs in his arches and he twisted on the bed. His own hands gripped the linens, white-knuckled. Groans poured from his mouth, making her smile with satisfaction that her torment was so fine and lovely.
Moving between his legs, she noticed his scent had become nothing but the sexual musk of a man in need.
As she needed.
So she trailed her hands up his thighs, which rippled with tension, let the panting of his breaths speed her own, let her mind dim with the passion sizzling in her and demanding a release. Only his body was important, how she could make him tremble, how she could tremble in response.
She put her mouth on him, and was lifted and tossed to her back and he was in her and plunging and she was screaming as all the stars in the universe gathered inside her and broke her apart into glittering sparks.
Later, she wasn’t sure how long, he was leaning over her and kissing her. “Lover.” It was nearly a chant from him. “Dearest. Lover. Camellia.” His mouth formed “HeartMate” and a jab of fear that he might say the word had her getting out of bed quicker than she’d anticipated.
Still, she bent and kissed him. “Laev, dearest
lover
.”
lover
.”
She heard the tuneful chiming of a calendarsphere. More than one. Two were in the corner of the room pulsing and sounding in harmony. Staring at him, she asked, “Did you reprogram the sound after meeting me?”
With a smile, he shook his head. “No. Did you?”
“No.”
“Guess we’re naturally compatible,” he said lightly. He stood at the closed door. “May I use your waterfall?”
“Of course.” Her hair was flopping in her face and she slicked it back. “I won’t join you.”
His jaw flexed and he shook his head. “No. Not a good idea if we both are expected anywhere else today.” Then his eyes widened and he grinned. “Tomorrow night, my favorite foods. What time?”
She jerked her head at his calendarsphere. “Consult that.”
“Calendarsphere, display tomorrow evening,” Laev ordered. The face of the silver globe faded from the morning appointment it had been flashing. “Late afternoon sparring with Tinne Holly.”
“Good,” Laev said. “Continue.”
“Tentative melee sparring,” the calendar said.
Looking at her, he said, “Cancel.”
“Evening month of Holly Dark Moons ritual at GreatCircle Temple.”
“Cancel.”
“Late-night consultation—” the sphere began.
“Cancel everything tomorrow night and the next morning—”
“Item marked important on Mor. Trip to see property in Rushes Vale for purchase.”
“Hmm.” Laev raised his brows at her. “Care for a short trip with me to the northeast on Mor?”
She did a rapid mental review of any appointments: nothing. “Yes. I’d like that.”
“Good.” He opened the bedroom door, glanced out and around. “No Fams.” With a last look at her from over his shoulder, he said, “Favorite meal tomorrow evening.” Then he walked with a jaunty step toward her waterfall room.
His ass was even better naked.
L
aev whistled as he left Camellia’s house. His glider had been
instructed to return to Camellia’s after the ball. She and Mica and Brazos had already teleported to Darjeeling’s Teahouse.
aev whistled as he left Camellia’s house. His glider had been
instructed to return to Camellia’s after the ball. She and Mica and Brazos had already teleported to Darjeeling’s Teahouse.
He looked up and down the street. It was quiet. Pretty with small homes in big grassyards and large trees. Upper middle class, he judged, and most folk at work. At the end of the block, he saw a full public carrier trundle pass. Running a hand over the sleek and shining dark blue glider, he smiled as he recalled the night before and all the joy of being together and loving.
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