Stolen Dreams (18 page)

 

Walking rapidly toward the hill from where they had
first seen
the commune, neither she nor Gabriel said a word until they were a good
distance away from the lodge. The exercise did not mellow his
irritation with her, however. "Hadn't I told you enough about him? Or
had I told you so much that you were tempted to try him yourself?"

 

"What
the drek are you talking about?" Shara shot back as she lengthened her
stride to keep up with him.

 

He
came to a stop so abruptly, she was several steps past him before she
halted as well. "I'm talking about the way you were toying with Zeus.
For someone who claims to have no interest in coupling without
establishing some sort of bond first, you certainly were anxious enough
to share your gifts with him!"

 

Shara's mouth dropped open in
shock. "You can't really believe that."

 

"No?"
He threw the sleeping pouch onto the ground. "I told you about that
special nectar of his. It was a rare, addictive aphrodisiac that not
only kept him potent, but made his women so desperate for relief that
they didn't mind sharing him with every other woman who caught his eye.
And there you were, ready to accept his invitation to share a cup or
two with him!"

 

Shara propped her fists on her hips and glared
up at
him. "I am not brainless or lacking in recall. I wouldn't have drunk
any of it. It would have been a perfect opportunity to test him."

 

Gabriel
narrowed his eyes at her. "Oh? Then perhaps you'd like to explain why
you practically had your tongue in his ear after dinner?"

 

Shara
gasped. "I have no idea why you think you have the right to question
anything I do or with whom, but you're completely out in space on this
one." She took a step closer and poked him in the shoulder. "I'll have
you know, that vile man was sliding his hand up between my legs as if
it were nothing more personal than a handshake. The only reason I was
anywhere near his ear was so that no one else at the table would hear
me threaten to castrate him!"

 

The stiffness went out of
Gabriel's stance. "Really?"

 

"Look at my eyes, if you still
doubt me."

 

The
moon illuminated her face sufficiently for him to see the yellow flecks
of anger and no hint of olive. He took a deep calming breath. "I'm
sorry. I overreacted."

 

"I'll accept your apology if you'll
tell me what I have done to make you think I am completely without
common sense."

 

"I
don't think anything of the sort," Gabriel retorted. "I was simply
worried about you. Zeus is of a time and culture very different from
ours. He was the type of male who considered a smile from a female
consent enough to act on his desires. It was not beyond him to use
force to gain whatever he wished, including women."

 

Shara
still
thought the excuses he was giving for his irrational behavior in the
lodge were only part of the truth. "I see. Then I suppose I should
thank you for preventing me from getting raped a second time in one
week." She turned to walk away from him, but he caught her arm and
pulled her back.

 

"A second time?" Gabriel felt the tension
vibrating
between them and was furious all over again that she could cause him to
lose his self-control so easily. "I thought we were past that, but if
you wish, we can rehash the entire sequence of events . . . including
my rape!"

 

Her eyes widened, and she was about to hurl a more
direct insult at him when he pressed his fingertips to her lips.

 

"No
more. Listen to us. Sniping at each other like spoiled children." He
traced her mouth, then brushed her cheek with the same fingers.

 

The
soothing touch made her realize how foolish they were being . . .
again. "You're right. I'm sorry I overreacted as well. I swear I am not
usually so unreasonable."

 

His hand trailed down her throat and
around to the nape of her neck beneath her hair. "Nor am I usually
prone to jealousy."

 

Angling her head, she leaned a bit closer.
"Jealousy?

 

He nodded and held her gaze with his. As his one
hand continued to stroke her neck, the other moved to her lower back
and urged her closer still. "Yes, jealous. A perfectly reasonable
response, given the facts of the situation. You rejected my attention,
yet you appeared to be welcoming another's. My male ego was bruised.
I'll stay aware of it in the future."

 

She wanted to tell him
she
understood and appreciated his honesty, but his hands were working some
sort of magic on her spine, and the way he was looking at her made her
forget the words she would have said. His head lowered ever so slowly,
and she willingly tipped hers in anticipation of his kiss. The thin
layers of material separating their bodies could not conceal the
physical changes occurring as they came together more fully, but this
time those changes weren't quite as alarming to her.

 

Ping!!!

 

Shara
and Gabriel both started at the faint sound that arose from between
their chests. Since he knew what had caused it, he recovered more
quickly than she did.

 

"Yes, Beauty," he said, lifting his
triangular recorder so that he was looking at its mirrored surface.

 

"What
is it?" Shara asked anxiously. "A warning?"

 

"Of
sorts," he said with a frown, then pressed the back of his recorder
against his inner wrist. "Beauty, physiological analysis. Display pulse
rate and body temperature."

 

Shara read the illuminated data as
they appeared. His readings were in the high-normal range.

 

"It
must have been you," he said with a crooked grin. "Hold up your hand."

 

She
wasn't sure why he was doing this, but she obeyed. With Beauty held
against her wrist, he turned her arm so that she could see herself in the
mirror.

 

Shara's anxiety increased as she noted the new
readings.

 

Her pulse rate was slightly above normal and her
temperature was up .2 degrees.

 

 

 Crossing
her arms defensively, Shara said, "I have  admitted that I'm .
. .
responsive to you. If you'll recall, I once asked you not to take
advantage of my weakness by purposely seducing me. I think it's rather
unkind of you to request a computerized confirmation of my
vulnerability versus your near indifference to me."

 

His
expression
was one of stretched patience. "What is unkind is that you believe I
would do such a thing. A moment ago you were close enough to me to know
very well that I am far from indifferent toward you. I programmed
Beauty to warn me of any rise in my body temperature over one degree,
because I knew you would deny any evidence that the fever was still
with you as long as possible. Given some notice, I thought to make the
cure more acceptable to you. Beauty alerted me of the temperature rise,
but it was you she was reacting, not me."

 

"One degree does not
necessarily mean it's the fever. We were walking very fast, then we
were arguing, and then .. ." She shook her head. "A slight increase in
pulse and temperature & perfectly normal under those
circumstances."

 

"All right," he said calmly. "Let's just sit
down here and talk for a while. No touching, and you choose the
subject." He unrolled his sleeping pouch on the grass and lowered
himself onto one end. "If you're correct, our bodies' readings will
both stabilize in a few minutes."

 

She sat down facing him and
picked
an impersonal topic. "Hestia told me a lot of gossip that you might
want to add to your notes."

 

"That could be helpful," he said
in the same passive tone he'd used before. "Tell me what you learned."

 

From
his perch in the tree where he had hidden after following the strangers
out of the lodge, Misha continued to observe them for a while. It had
been a lovers' quarrel just as it had appeared to be.

 

And yet,
in
the moment he had touched the female's mind, he sensed something alien
about her, as if she weren't Noronian. Not being able to read the man
at all caused him even greater confusion. No one knew them, and they
gave no sect affiliation. Athena had automatically assumed they were
spies for the Tribunal, but if that were the case, Misha would have
been officially notified by his superior.

 

Satisfied that they
weren't leaving the commune, Misha climbed back down the tree and
returned to the lodge. He didn't believe there was any new information
to be picked up, but he couldn't stay away for long without someone
questioning his whereabouts. Among the Friends, trust was in short
supply, even within the family. And Zeus's habit of ruthlessly
eradicating suspected enemies was legendary.

 

What had begun as
an
exciting assignment had quickly become tedious. The constant tension
was beginning to unnerve him and the farm chores were demeaning,
but if tomorrow's Summit proceeded as he had warned the Tribunal it
would, Misha promised himself he'd be on holiday by sunset.

 

All
the
while Shara related what Hestia had told her, she worked hard to shut
out any thoughts that might cause her any agitation. But her efforts
seemed to have the opposite effect. The more she tried not to think
about what the increased readings meant, the more nervous she became.
When she lost her train of thought in midsentence, she gave up the
struggle. "Show me your readings again."

 

He held out his arm
so she
could see what Beauty had to report. His pulse rate and temperature
were only a fraction higher than they had been before, but the fact
was, they should have been going down, not up. Unless he was ill.

 

Or
his mating fever had been triggered.

 

"Your
turn," Gabriel said, removing Beauty from its chain and handing it to
Shara. When she hesitated to request her own readings, he asked, "Would
you rather wait until you're mindless, like the last time?"

 

With
a
sigh of resignation, she asked Beauty for an update, even though she
could feel a burning sensation behind her eyes and her heart was
beating as if she'd just run a race. As she had guessed, the increases
in her readings were greater than his had been.

 

"Analysis?"
Gabriel asked with one raised eyebrow.

 

She
suspected he kept using scientific words and phrases for the same
reason she did—to keep her from thinking of their relationship in
emotional terms. But the truth was, her emotions were in a greater
state of upheaval than her body. If she could just keep the two separate, it might not be so
disturbing.

 

With
that thought in mind, she gave the analysis he'd requested. "Both our
pulses and temperatures are rising, though mine are increasing at a
faster rate. I suspect it has something to do with our different
attitudes toward the problem. It appears that the mating—er, simulated
mating fever did not disappear with the time-hop. Thus, we have no
basis for a supposition that it will go away with the next hop, either."

 

He
gave her a moment to continue, and when she didn't, he said, "You
didn't mention the one other very important factor: The timing between
attacks was shorter this time. There were about twenty-three hours
between the first and second attacks. Nineteen between the second and
third. If it follows the fever's standard pattern, the periods of
relief will continue to diminish until we are forced to—"

 

"That's
not going to happen! We'll be back in our own time and seeking medical
treatment long before we lose all control."

 

"You
sound very sure of that, but the fact is you have no evidence on which
to make that statement. There is no record of a couple fighting the
mating fever for any length of time without medical assistance. But it
is known that eventually coupling will not be sufficient to cool it. If
we do not get treatment and we do not join, we may both fall into a
coma from which there is no return.

 

"In this time period we
don't
have many options, as far as I can tell. There is no known treatment
here, and a formal joining ceremony cannot take place without two of
the couple's parents to act as witnesses. Add to that the fact that we
are in a volatile
situation, probably being closely observed, and may not have the
freedom to find privacy before the mindlessness forces us to seek
relief wherever we are. I think we should consider returning to our
time immediately and—"

 

"No! If we go back to be treated, we
may
never get the opportunity to return. You may be satisfied with the
recordings you've made of this period, but I-—" She stopped herself
from reminding him of her goal. "I'm not ready to go back yet." She was
glad she hadn't yet mentioned the additional probe during dinner. That
would probably make him more determined to return. "At any rate, how
can you even consider returning before tomorrow morning's meeting?
Think of the invaluable research for your monograph."

 

He had
been
thinking of it, but he hadn't wanted to be the one to bring it up.
"Then that brings us back to my earlier question. If we don't go back
for treatment, we have only one cure available to us here. So what
shall it be? Oblivion or conscious pleasure? Personally, I'd like to be
aware of what we're sharing, for a change, but I'll leave the choice to
you . . . this time."

 

When Shara had previously agreed to
couple
with him to control the fever, she had been certain it wouldn't
actually be necessary. To wait for oblivion to make, the decision for
her was too painful and clearly dangerous to her sanity. However, she
knew conscious pleasure could be almost as dangerous for her. Once she
allowed her sensual nature to surface—and it would if she repeatedly
shared her body with him—it would only be a matter of time before her
heart became confused and thought she was in love again.