Rejar (13 page)

Lilac clenched her fists and stared at the top of his black boot.

Said boot was now level with her face since she was sprawled across the bottom of the coach. Lilac tried very hard to recall Mrs. Chapone’s instructional letter on The Government of the Temper.

Gritting her teeth, she reached up to yank the traitorous strands of hair away from his person. Throughout all of this, the Prince remained suspiciously silent. The insufferable jackanapes was not even offering to assist her back up onto the seat!

“Are you going to help me up or not?” She spat at him through clamped jaws.

“Not, I think,” he drawled.

Furious with his blatantly rude behavior, she gazed up into his face with all the contempt she felt for him.

Rejar knew he would not forget this picture for a long time. Half of her hair had come undone and now was hanging over one side of her face. He glanced down her body. ...

This was indeed humorous.

Eyes brilliant with laughter, Rejar nodded his head in the direction of her lap.

Afraid of what she’d see, but knowing she must. Lilac slowly looked down. Her dress was hiked up somewhere around her hips, exposing most of her pantalettes and all of her white silk stockings.

Lilac did not move, did not blink, did not say anything for a full minute. Finally, she gathered what was left of her composure.

She spoke to the floor in a ridiculously righteous tone. “A gentleman would not look.”

Rejar placed one elbow up on the side of the coach, resting his head on his curved palm so that his index finger resided indolently against his temple.

Unquestionably, he continued to enjoy the tantalizing view.

“So you have said.” He threw the implication back at her.

“You are wicked!”

The corners of the Prince’s mouth curved upward, revealing a devastating little dimple in his left cheek. “I have been told it is my nature.”

“To be insensitive?” she sneered. He puzzled her by laughing.

“I can assure you, I am a very sensitive man.” Rejar leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. By design, the position brought their heads fairly close together.

“You need only test me to find out,” he whispered seductively.

Her face flamed and she quickly looked away from his inviting posture.

“I don’t like you, Prince Nickolai.”

Rejar smiled slowly.

She faced him, nonplussed. “Did you not hear me?”

“I listen to you very well.” His eyes captured hers with the methodical gleam of a predator—sophisticated beyond her comprehension and oh-so-tantalizing. “You would be surprised at what I hear.”

Bewitched by those gorgeous eyes despite her resolve, Lilac almost fell under his spell. Blinking, she broke free of his strange hold.

“Come.” He held out his hand to her, waiting patiently for her to take it.

There he sat above her in the coach, like some fairytale Prince—handsome beyond measure. Her mouth parted as she looked up at him, affected for all her self chastisement by his sheer masculine beauty.

Knowing she needed his help to regain her seat in the rocking carriage, she tentatively placed her hand in his, noting how his powerful, well-formed hand completely engulfed her small one.

The way he would engulf all that she was, if she let him.

The sober thought brought common sense back to her; and as he easily helped, almost lifted her one-handedly, back onto the seat, she resolved that she must remain aloof from this man. He was far too dangerous.

The landau entered the park, picking up a well-used, popular path in its circuitous route, passing many other carriages and riders.

Lilac noted that every time they passed by a member of the ton, as soon as they were supposedly out of earshot, the whispers began. She looked for a reasonable place to hide, but other than under the Prince’s long hair, no such retreat was forthcoming. Oh, Auntie Whumples would pay for this!

“Coo, don’t this ‘ere one look like she’s suckin’ on a lemon?”

Lilac threw a disgusted look at the driver’s back then cringed as she spotted that infernal gossip. Lady Vandershmeer. She was coming right toward them. Of all the terrible luck! Her impromptu outing with the Prince would be all over the ton by this evening.

“Lilac Devere! And his Highness.” Lady Vandershmeer tapped her chin with her fan. “What an interesting development this is.”

Lilac tried desperately to contain the damage with an invented story. “Prince Azov is new to our city. Lady Vandershmeer. He—that is, a friend of his—is a mutual acquaintance of the family, who asked us, my aunt and I, if we might show him about town.”

“A mutual acquaintance? And who might that be?” Lady Vandershmeer was plainly disbelieving.

“Prinny,” came the deep voice beside her, shocking both the women.

Lady Vandershmeer dropped her lorgnette. “The Prince Regent?”

“Why are you surprised? I am a Prince and he is a Prince; should we not know each other?” Rejar stared the irritating woman down.

“Well, I suppose so, your Highness.” Lady Vandershmeer was clearly flustered by Prince Azov’s commanding demeanor.

“Lilac and I must continue with our”—he glanced at her, then back to Lady Vandershmeer—”tour. Good day.” He waved his hand imperiously in the air. The driver immediately lurched the coach forward.

But not before Lilac saw Lady Vandershmeer’s mouth drop.

Outraged, Lilac turned to the Prince. “What possessed you to use that name?” she demanded. “Now you’ve ruined everything!”

“Prinny?” Rejar was confused. “I assure you, I have met this ruler you speak of at an engagement I attended with—”

“No, you twit! My name. You called me Lilac in front of her!”

Rejar leaned back lazily into the corner of the landau. “What was I supposed to call you—Prunella?”

Lilac winced. “Don’t you ever speak that name again. I detest it!”

“Really?” He made a great show of yawning, reminding Lilac of... someone. “What a revelation.”

“You are so aggravating! You know very well I am referring to your usage of my first name, which, by the way, I have never ever given you permission to use.”

“It is your name.” He shrugged as if he were not very interested in the topic. “Why should I need permission to use it?”

The man was an idiot! ‘“Because, you were too familiar!”

Rejar chuckled low in his throat at her unknowing play on words: too Familiar. Not yet, but he intended to be.

His laughter was the last straw. The man was insufferable and strangely obtuse; it was time to end this charade of an outing. “I wish to go home. Immediately.”

“Why?”

Why! Let me count the reasons. She already knew enough about this man to realize she was going to have to convince him. Unlike any proper gentleman who would bring her home simply because she had stated it was her wish. The mutton head.

She reached for a good excuse. “It’s getting chilly.”

“It is not.”

Lilac pursed her lips. “I tell you, it is!” She rubbed her hands briskly up and down her arms. “Look, I’m shivering. Brrr...”

A mischievous dimple popped into his cheek. “Let me see.”

Before she realized his intent, he leaned forward to run the pads of his long, well-shaped fingers down her arms, leaving a trail of molten heat in the wake of his touch.

Lilac froze.

He was almost embracing her! In public! Caught within his powerful hands, she stared wordlessly up at him.

The aggressive hunter within him met her motionless, captive look with candid sensuality.

At once, a languid veil of warmth enshrouded her, followed by the spicy tang of cinnamon and bayberry and something very exotic. Something provocative.

She shivered in truth now, but not from the cold.

Rejar’s sights fastened on her full mouth, parted for him exactly the way he wanted.

“Do you not like to shiver a bit, souk-souk?” he murmured, very close to her luscious lips. His sexual scent surrounded her.

“Your Highness,” she squeaked. “Please, don’t—”

“Make me shiver,” he whispered before his mouth came down on hers.

His lips were silk and velvet.

They came over her mouth in a fiery possession. Lilac could feel his breath against her mouth, sweet and hot. And, somehow, acquainted. The Prince tasted of sultry, forbidden dreams.

There was something about the way his mouth took hers; the way his determined hands laced through her hair to hold her to him in a particular way that bespoke of a mastery and artistry that even her unschooled self could recognize. She whimpered beneath the gifted, virile mouth that wreaked such havoc on her, an act of passion that she suspected was in its simplest form for him.

The tip of his hot tongue delicately sampled her bottom lip as if savoring the moment before the feast.

Then it began to slide suggestively between her parted—

Fear and desire tumbled up inside her, confusing her. She jerked away from him.

“You—you cad!” she spat out, wiping the sleeve of her arm across her mouth in a deliberate display of revulsion. “How dare you! Accosting me in public! You’re—you’re vile and indecent; take me home at once!”

Rejar was not at all surprised by her behavior; he suspected she would react in such a way, although he couldn’t figure out exactly why. After he had gotten her into an actual embrace, he had hoped she would feel differently.

Some male Familiars had the ability to bring a woman to peak by their kiss alone. He had done so himself countless times in the past to the immense pleasure of the women he had bedded. Only Lilac had pulled away from him before he had the time to introduce her to that particular expertise of his.

It had been hard for him to stop.

The taste of her still sizzled along his nerves and it was all he could do not to tell Jackie to find a secluded area in the trees and lose himself for a while. Solely by Lilac’s present reaction, he supposed it would wiser to wait.

He crossed his arms over his chest and gazed down at her speculatively. “It is a big reaction you show for such a small act. I wonder why that is?”

Lilac’s cheeks reddened. “What—what do you mean?” she sputtered defensively.

He looked at her coolly. “I think you know what I mean.”

Lilac swallowed. Scared and embarrassed, she yelled to the driver, “Coachman, I insist you turn this vehicle around and take me home!”

The Prince immediately countered her order. “Jackie, you will continue riding around this park until I say otherwise; is that clear?”

“Clear as me pockets, yer Princeship.”

Lilac clenched the jonquil material of her dress, hopelessly wrinkling it. “What do you hope to gain from this, your Highness?”

Rejar rested his head back against the seat. “Everything,” he said mysteriously, closing his eyes.

While Lilac sat staring stonily at the scenery they passed, Rejar did some serious thinking. It had been a mistake to kiss her, he acknowledged. The timing had been wrong.

He couldn’t recall one instance in his life when that had ever happened to him. Was he losing his skill?

Ridiculous! A Familiar’s skills were inherent; they could not be lost. So, why, in Familiar terms, was he snarling up everything with her?

Every time he tried to take one step forward, it seemed he had to take two steps back.

He yawned.

He was very tired; he hadn’t been able to sleep for two days. After Lorgin and Adeeann had left, he had tried to rest in the hotel room but was unable to. Finally he had given up, going in search of Jackie.

Now that Lilac was next to him, he felt more at ease.

He yawned again.

She had the most calming affect on his restlessness. It was really very strange.

Lilac felt a nose poke into her neck.

“What are you—” She stopped. It seemed the Prince was fast asleep. Good. She wasn’t the least insulted. Now she could tell the driver to bring her home and finally rid herself of this boor.

“You there—driver!”

“Me name’s Jackie, Jackie Mulligan, yer mistress.” Thank god no one could hear this excuse for a servant call her by such an appalling name. “Yes, well, Jackie, your master has gone and fallen asleep. It appears thinking has overtaxed his brain. You can take me home now.”

“Sorry, yer mistress. I’d not be doin’ that now.”

“What do you mean you won’t? I just gave you a direct order! I insist—”

“Insist all y’like, girlie, but I takes me orders from ‘is Princeship and ‘is Princeship tells Jackie to ride ‘round this ‘ere park lessen ‘e says otherwise and tha’s what I aim t’ do.” That said, he stuck his pipe in his mouth, indicating that as far as Jackie Mulligan was concerned, the discussion was over.

“Well, I have never, in all my life—”

“Tha’ was clear to king and shepherd when ‘e kissed you, yer mistress.” Jackie Mulligan was one to call it like it was. No bloomin’ clankers on him.

Lilac’s entire face went crimson at his crude reference. She knew when she was up against a stone wall; she crossed her arms close to her chest and stared moodily out at the passing trees. In a silent huff, she simmered.

So, they circled the park.

Afternoon turned into early evening. Early evening gave way to nightfall. The moon came up. Stars dotted the sky. Round and round they went.

Still the Prince slept.

Cozy as a kitten, he wrapped his arms around her waist, contentedly holding her close while his sultry face snuggled into her throat.

She wouldn’t have been surprised if the beast purred.

* * *

Agatha Whumples sat in her favorite chair in the parlor, trying to read a book on one of her favorite subjects: the mysterious effluvia. It was a secret hobby of hers; Agatha Whumples had a passion for the unknown.

However, tonight she could not concentrate on the fascinating text of Dr. Lopidori. She looked one more time at the ormolu clock on the mantelpiece. It was past ten in the evening! She was more than worried. The Prince should have brought Lilac home hours ago. This was a potentially scandalous situation. Where were they?

Just as that last worried thought passed through her mind, she heard the front door bang open and slam shut, followed by the angry tap of ladies’ half boots marching in a huff towards the foyer stairs. A second bang of the door quickly followed with the decisive, swift step of a man’s Hessian boots.