Into His Command (25 page)

Until words tumbled, just as uncontrollable, off my lips.

“But I
am
home.”

The dam in my composure, cracked before, burst open. Emotions poured out like jetsam
in a flood, twisted and bizarre, defying recognition. They burst up, hot and cold
at once, making even my body feel like a foreign object.

No. This wasn’t a flood. It was a hurricane, picking up chunks of me and moving them
into separate places…

Becoming a physical force.

I surged off the bed. Twisted free from Camellia. For a moment, dashed a gaze out
to the balcony. We were on the second floor. Could I jump and survive? Did it matter
if I did?

“Fuck,” I rasped. Of course it mattered.
I
mattered. I didn’t want to die. I really wanted to live. I just wanted to do it here,
in Arcadia. Preferably in one emotional piece.

And wasn’t that fate’s lovely little ambush?

I’d found the land of my heart…but would never live in it with the man of my heart.

Which meant my week of suckage had just turned into months of suckage.

No
.

I hadn’t agreed to this stunt for my heart. I’d agreed to it for Arcadia.

And for Arcadia, I’d carry it through.

There’d just have to be some ground rules.

Syn and I were strong people. We’d honed our bodies for fighting and our spirits for
battle. Surely we could handle a few guidelines for a sham marriage.

Or so I tried to tell myself, when the door opened again—and the air was sucked from
the room courtesy of the man filling the portal.

My husband-to-be.

‡

“I
think…Jagger
needs me downstairs.”

Camellia’s claim was as sound as her hurried breath, and we all knew it—until Jag
really did shout for her. That fucking man and his timing.

As Cam departed, Syn stepped further in. By equal steps, I scooted back. “Sorry,”
I blurted. “Guess I’m just…”

Nervous
?

It sounded just as stupid on the inside. I’d never been nervous in front of Samsyn
since the night we’d met. Correction. Never
about
him. He was shelter. Haven. Home.

Not anymore.

Not if I wanted to leave this marriage with my sanity.

His jaw clenched. I could see every formidable inch now, since he’d recently shaved.
A hint of his aftershave, spicy and woodsy, tickled my nose. His hair was clean and
glossy, meticulously combed and clubbed at his nape with a white satin ribbon. He
already looked like the world’s most perfect groom, though he still wore just a tight
white T-shirt and nicely fitted blue jeans. I fingered my wet hair, still not even
combed, and tucked my injured arm closer to my body.

“I…brought your medication.” He lifted both hands, drawing my attention to the glass
of water in one and the pair of pills in another.

“Thanks.”

I downed the medicine in lieu of laughing again. We were like a pair of kids who’d
never kissed, let alone—well, every illicit thing we’d already done.

“Well.” He jabbed his hands into his front pockets. “At least one of us can get through
this numbed up.”

That took care of the laughing thing. Now I just had to resist throwing the water
in his face. “You want to be on pain killers, too? I’d be extremely happy to break
something for you.”

His head snapped up. His eyes blazed blue lightning. “Creator’s balls, Brooke. I was
only—”

“Trying to be charming about stating just how shit-tastic this all is for you. I get
it, Syn. I
get it
, okay? You’d rather be getting your appendix yanked, without anesthesia, than preparing
for your fucking wedding. Wasn’t the way
I
planned on the day going, either.”

“Brooke—”

“But this is for the country.
Our
country. And it’s not forever. Get that into your thick skull, okay? Just show up
and mumble the words. You don’t have to mean them. Close your eyes, if that’ll be
easier. I won’t mind.”

“Brooke—”

“And when we get to Sancti,”—I didn’t dare stop until I was absolutely done, too damn
scared of what he’d snarl in return—“we can make logistical arrangements for separate
housing. It’s a big palais. I can find someplace decent to crash. Jayd’s level probably
has a spare room. She and I can make it a sleepover every night. Fiddle Doodles, sugared
soda, makeovers—”

I was on such a roll, there was zilch prep time for his ninja sweep, grabbing me by
the waist. Or the possession of his hand at the back of my head. Or the hot sweep
of his mouth, consuming as a burst of summer sun, melting me just as fast. My body
was a puddle—including my good hand, wrapped around the water glass. It tipped, soaking
both our stomachs, before falling to the carpet with a hard
pong
. Like I noticed. With my tongue twirled with his and my body wrapped in his arms,
a tsunami could’ve crashed in and I wouldn’t have cared.

But I needed to care.

Needed to be pushing him away, drawing an invisible
don’t cross
line between us, and get down to ticking off the guidelines…

The guidelines…

Right. Those.

What were they again?

I’d remember in a second. It wouldn’t hurt to wait that long. It couldn’t. How could
it, when it felt
so…damn…good
? His mouth, so purposeful and passionate. His body, so hard and huge. His groan,
so guttural only I could hear it…

and feel it…

and know, all over again, that this man completed me as nobody else did…or ever would.

And
that
part, I refused to feel stupid for.

Back in the states, would’ve likely been torn apart for.

They’d tell me I had no idea what I was doing. That dedicating my heart to the man
who’d also—
gasp
—taken my virginity was Chick Mistake Numero Uno. That I’d barely “discovered the
world” yet. That I hadn’t “shopped around” or even experienced a decent social life.

I didn’t want a damn social life.

Arcadia had already given me a
life.
A purpose. An identity. A place where I belonged.

And the man I’d always be in love with.

Just one more moment
.

I pleaded it to fate, and rejoiced as the bitch listened for once. With his deepest
dragon’s growl, Syn pushed his tongue in deeper…molded our mouths yet tighter…and
fitted the hardest part of his body to the moist cleft of mine. I held onto him with
all my strength, every cell of my body opening to the hot fusion that was completely
ours…the magic that was completely him.

Now just one moment more. Please…please…

With a jagged huff, he finally tore away. To my ecstasy, he didn’t go far. But to
my fear, still stared as if I were his most dreaded poison…and then its antidote.

What the hell
?

And would there ever be a time when he didn’t have me in this whiplash?

And would I ever want there to be?

“
Astremé
?”

His breath was a rickety tangle with mine. I greedily inhaled, accepting every molecule
of life, heat, and desperation I could get. “Yeah?”

He dropped his forehead to mine. Kept me locked there, spreading his fingers against
my scalp. “Are you…really sure about this?”

“Are you?”

He drew in a long breath. “You know I am. But you also know…my parameters.”

The corners of his eyes tightened. The heat inside them again battled the frost. The
captain of the ship was now helpless in the storm, and had no idea what to do. I held
on tight as he struggled to grab the wheel, in any way he possibly could.

“I shall stand with you today. And I will give you a ring. And I will give you my
home. And I sure as
hell
want to give you my body. But…I cannot give you my heart.”

I squeezed my fingertips into his nape. “I know, Syn. And it’s okay.”

His tension didn’t change. “You need to mean that. After what you said this morning—”

“Right after you fried every circuit on my motherboard with that orgasm?” I pushed
back by a resolute step. “Like I said this morning, that’s water under the bridge,
big guy.” I cocked my head, animated by the fresh rush of pain killers. “I can keep
the shit in check if you can.”

To my slight surprise and huge relief, a laugh tumbled off his sexy lips. Dysfunctional?
Probably. But laughter made it easier to hide my feelings in plain sight: the ordeal
I was about to sign up for, for months on end.

But after we’d dealt with the radicals and all was well in Arcadia once more, I’d
be done with the crucible of Samsyn Cimarron at last. I’d say goodbye to Mom, Dad,
and Dil, promising to visit them in the states from time to time, and settle in for
a long, peaceful life in the Tahreuse Mountains. Maybe I’d help Jagger run the Center,
or open up a wing just for training young girls. Hell, maybe I’d run for Mayor of
Tahreuse—but only if I could remodel the Residence Rigale. And swear never to look
at the rotunda on the ninth level again.

No.
I’d have to deal. Be bigger than that. Stronger. Better. Staying in Arcadia meant
I’d face reminders of Samsyn every single day. Maybe that was even why I wanted to
remain.

Therapy topic for a much different day.

Especially when the man of my dreams still grinned at me like a giant version of Dopey
the Dwarf. Then tugged at my good hand, pulling me close to him once again, and dropped
an affectionate kiss to the top of my head.

“The shit…is in check.”

His formality atop my slang had never sounded more adorable. I rewarded him with a
giggle, tucking my head against his chest. Syn expelled a long breath into my hair,
letting it fade into a shared moment of silence. A peace not likely to be ours again
for a while.

“
Astremé
?”

“Hmmm?”

“I am glad Evrest suggested you.”

My heart rushed my ribs. My stomach rocket-jumped, joining the mess. I shooed them
all away to embrace the most important thing: the glow of gratitude for this man,
about to take one of the scariest jumps of his life—and trusting me to tumble along
with him.

As I tightened my body to his, a set of words echoed in my head. Camellia’s, from
two nights ago at the Tower party.

Sometimes, you’re already sharing the drop—and you just have to reach out to know
it.

Was
that
the key to all this? Was I too worried about the blood and guts at the end of this
plummet, to even see the beauty of the view, feel the thrill of the drop? Maybe I
had to accept that the roller coaster was going to derail, and just embrace ride before
then.

As the sanity platoon fumed in the back of my brain, I mentally ripped up the guidelines—and
let them fly away. If Samsyn could laugh in the face of his terror, so could I.

I thought.

I hoped.

“I’m…glad he did too.” There. Not so hard. He’d reached out. I’d grabbed on. It felt
kind of…cool. Mature. Grown-up.

Right up to the moment he dipped his head over, tilted my chin up—then kissed me so
gently, he was seriously earning the noble prince chops. He took his time, practically
fondling my lips with his, dipping their soft, sweet touch over every contour of mine…until
I could bear the teasing no more. With a high-pitched sigh, I opened for him. With
a greedy mewl, I reached my tongue out for his. With a slow snarl, he answered.

Time stopped. If any force on Earth could really make it so, I was certain we’d just
found it. The air seemed to hold its breath around us. The universe halted, awed by
the passion it beheld…by a connection that could only be called magic.

Long after our tongues dragged apart, Syn caressed his cheek against mine. I smiled,
letting him infuse me with his scent, his touch, his heat. Our silence wasn’t so complete
anymore, though. In the farthest reaches of my logic, there was a tumult. The sanity
platoon returned, even more pissed.
Are you fucking crazy? You ripped up the guidelines, and now this? Fine. Don’t come
crying to have your heart glued back together in six months. We’ll still be chugging
the we-told-you-so beers.

As Syn nipped his lips around the bottom of my ear, sending tingling rain through
my whole body, I skywrote a message for the whole platoon across the horizon of my
mind.
F-U-C-K-O-F-F
.

Aloud, I whispered, “Holy…
shit
…Syn…”

Samsyn chuckled, though quickly dipped it to a lusty growl. “I need to go,
astremé
. We both must get ready. But before I do…”

I wrapped my good arm to his neck, wrapped one leg around his waist, and rasped, “Yes?”

“There is something you need to know.”

“Yes?” I gave it a sleek and seductive hiss this time.

“I believe Jayd is already booked solid for sleep-overs.”

Mock gasp. “For
months
?”

“Well.” He bit harder into my ear. Soothed the pain with languorous licks. “She
is
confined to the Palais for the next decade.”