The Charmer (11 page)

Jasmine started violently when Wiley touched
her shoulder.

“It’s just me,” Wiley assured her softly. She
bit her lip. “It’s getting close to dinnertime.” She paused, hope
in her eyes. “The family is eating together again.”

Jasmine shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

“Feign it,” Keilor told her flatly,
announcing his presence. “Jayems expects you to be there, and your
lady desires it.” He ordered the bath to start up. “I’ll be back to
escort you to the table in half an hour.”

Jasmine jumped to her feet. “Get out of my
room, you jerk!”

He didn’t budge. “Are you going to be
ready?”

“I don’t think so,” she said with biting
sarcasm, and made the mistake of adding a sneer. In a heartbeat
he’d crossed the room and tossed her over his shoulder. Striding
over to the tub, he dumped her swearing self into it, clothes and
all. She surfaced, spitting water, and furiously raked the hair off
of her face. “You son of a—”

He hefted the soap in warning, and she
clamped her mouth shut. It was tough to glare and blink away the
water spiking her lashes at the same time.

He gave her a pleasant smile. “Now, you can
either finish this yourself, charmer, or I can climb in there with
you...” his voice roughened a fraction, and she swallowed hard,
“...and I won’t be wearing my clothes when I do.” Fire shot into
her cheeks, and he handed her the soap. “I’ll be back in...” He
glanced at the clock on a wall shelf. “...twenty-six minutes. Be
ready.”

The door shut behind him, and Jasmine looked
at Wiley.

Wiley looked at her. She offered a weak
smile. “Need help with your hair?”

He knocked on the door exactly twenty-six
minutes from the time he’d left, clad in his own formal wear.
Rihlia opened the door and entered the hall, followed by a sulky
Jasmine.

Her jade gown deepened the green of her eyes
and made the red of her glossy, pouting lips all the more inviting,
not that he would tell her. She ignored his politely offered arm
and tried to walk around him, so he took her hand and tucked it
into his left arm, clamping his right hand over it.

Her jaw tightened. “Shouldn’t you be
escorting Wiley? Doesn’t she outrank me?”

“Her name is Rihlia, and Jayems will escort
her.” He nodded to Jayems as he stepped out into the hall and
offered Rihlia his arm.

“I’ve called her Wiley for years now and I
have no intention of—oh!” She gasped as the backs of his fingers
brushed against her breast.

“Rihlia,” he repeated with as much patience
as he’d use training a new villi. “It is her name, and I expect you
to address her as such.” Jayems and Rihlia rounded a corner and he
deliberately lagged. Their footsteps began to fade.

There was far more to Jasmine’s refusal to
acknowledge Rihlia’s name than sheer stubbornness. Too many shocks
had hit her too quickly, and she was still trying to retreat. If he
continued to allow her to call his cousin Wiley then he was tacitly
allowing her the illusion of a return to life as she knew it. Such
a thing would be a cruel tease, and the sooner she forgot the idea
and moved on the better off she’d be.

The woman on his arm sent him a withering
look. “I’ll call her whatever I wish, and what I wish to call her
is—” she broke off with a yelp as he spun her back to the wall and
bared her left breast. A hot, wet mouth closed over her nipple. She
cried out and grabbed his hair.

“What will you call her?” he demanded. He
gifted her nipple with a long, fiery lick.

She tugged weakly at his head, gasping,
“Stop! They’ll see—Oh, Keilor…” If anyone else had touched her like
that she’d have done her best to draw blood, but this was Keilor.
Though she’d have taken a beating rather than admit it, she’d
wanted this. Dreamed of it…

His teeth raked her peak and she squirmed
against the wall. Her scent rose around him, entered into him,
permeating the chinks in his defenses, calling to him to take her
fast, now, against the wall.

Keilor forced himself to pull away and glance
pointedly down the hall, reminding her they lacked privacy. “You
want to call her Rihlia, don’t you, Dragonfly?”

Reminded of his game, she shoved against him
and tried to knee his groin, but he twisted and trapped her with
his hips against the wall. A handful of silky hair stilled her head
for him and a massaging hand at her naked breast gained him
entrance to her mouth. With all the pent up passion she aroused, he
kissed her, stealing her breath and making it his own.

With one last lick to her luscious tongue, he
drew back, keeping their bodies locked together. Fighting for
breath, he warned her, “I can go all night, sweetheart, but I can’t
guarantee we won’t draw an audience.”

She slowly closed her eyes. She’d done it
again; let him use her body against her. When would she learn?
“Rihlia,” she said, and it tasted like ashes.

“Rihlia,” he agreed, but didn’t withdraw as
they both expected. Instead he kissed her again, softly, washing
away the ashes with the sweet tenderness of his kiss. Desire washed
through her like a warm rain, and when he withdrew this time, both
were trembling.

Keilor stepped back while he still had the
strength. It took strength to straighten her bodice, tucking her
away from his sight. His hand fell away, and for a tortured moment,
neither could move.

“Your hair is loose,” Jasmine observed from
where she sagged against the wall.

He gave her a rakish smile and ran both his
hands through it, smoothing it back. “So is yours.”

“Yeah, but mine started out that way.” A
corner of her mouth tugged up, and she looked down shyly, uneasy
with this thing between them. Somehow, with their second kiss, a
wall had shivered and collapsed, and she was afraid to look beyond
the swirling dust to see what the darkness might conceal.

Jayems and his lady walked around the corner.
Jayems’ eyebrow shot up as he surveyed the pair; Keilor with a
gleam in his eye and reeking of possessive dominance, Jasmine
leaning against the wall as if afraid her knees would fail her. It
didn’t take much imagination to figure out what had been going on.
“Should we expect you at dinner?” He addressed the comment to this
cousin with some amusement.

Rihlia jabbed him in the ribs and scowled at
Keilor as she looped her arm protectively through Jasmine’s. “She’s
coming to dinner, and I’m escorting her.” She shot Keilor a look of
disgust. “At least that way I’ll know she’ll get there.”

Lady Rhapsody smiled when they entered the
room. Her eyes rested first, as always, on her daughter, and then
settled on Jasmine with kindness. Taking her hands, she asked with
concern, “You must be in better spirits to be joining us this
night, Jasmine. I am glad to see it.” Her eyes rested with love on
Rihlia. “My daughter’s face casts a shadow whenever you aren’t
near.”

Jasmine smiled wryly. “Thank you. I’ll try to
behave myself this evening.”

Lady Portae huffed and waved a perfumed hand.
Jasmine tried not to stare at the soft flesh that oozed around her
many rings. “I certainly hope not, my dear. You livened things up
the other night. I can see why our Rihlia adores you.”

As they moved towards the table to begin the
blessing, Jasmine was a little surprised when Fallon moved to stand
behind her.

He gave her a charming smile, lifting her
hand for a gallant kiss. “I was unaware of your unique...gift last
evening, dear lady, but I’m quite certain I would have been equally
devastated without it. May I have the pleasure of sharing this
blessing with you?” He took her smile for assent and placed his
strong hands on her shoulders while Jayems blessed the meal.

She did her best to ignore Keilor as he stood
across the table, sheltering Urseya.

“You can do better, you know.”

Mildly startled, Keilor dragged his eyes back
to his dinner companion, who was frowning at the remaining curry on
her plate, absently poking it with her chopsticks. He didn’t
pretend not to know what Urseya was talking about. This was the
third time he’d lost the thread of her bright chatter and let his
eyes rove across the table. “Could I?” No one was listening to
them—all were caught up in a boyhood anecdote Fallon was
sharing.

Urseya set down her chopsticks, laying them
across her plate to signal that she was finished. A servant
immediately collected her plate, and Urseya waited until she was
done to continue. “The charmers I have heard tales of are not known
for their fidelity. Why take only one lover when one can have the
adoration of hundreds...as well as the gifts.”

He answered carefully, being certain to keep
his voice low. Jasmine would certainly never hear it. “And you fear
she would betray me?”

She shrugged. “One cannot say. Frankly, I’m a
little surprised at our cousin allowing the charmer around Jayems.
I’m not certain I would trust her around my man.”

Keilor felt a stab of impatience at her
thinly veiled jealousy, and was about to reply when Rihlia suddenly
said, “Hey, Jasmine—you never did tell me what happened on your
date with Chris. How did it go?” When Jasmine just blinked at her
in confusion, Rihlia prompted teasingly, “You know, the hot date
you had Friday night. I wasn’t there to hear a report, and in the
confusion, I forgot to ask. How was it?”

Her friend shrugged. “It was dead on arrival.
I should have known better.”

“No way!” Rihlia paused to thank the servant
who brought her dessert before turning her attention back to
Jasmine. “He was such a sweet guy. Cute, too. What happened?” She
took a bite of coconut mousse, watching Jasmine from the corner of
her eye.

Jasmine squirmed under the family’s scrutiny.
She had never liked the hot seat. Deciding that a short answer
might turn away curiosity, she said succinctly, “He was thirty-five
and he still lived with his mother.”

“So? She was ill,” Rihlia replied, indignant.
“I think it’s great that he took care of her in her old age. Lots
of people would have packed her off to a nursing home.”

Jasmine drummed her fingers on the tablecloth
in irritation. It wasn’t like Wiley to play devil’s advocate. “The
man just couldn’t cut the cord, Wi—” She glanced at Keilor’s raised
brow and scowled. “
Rihlia
. He wouldn’t even buy a car
without consulting her.”

Portae frowned at her. “There is absolutely
nothing wrong with consulting one’s elders before making important
decisions, young woman.” She lifted a brow at her son Fallon, who
rolled his eyes. “Frankly, I wish more young people would have the
wisdom to do so.”

Jasmine continued on as if there had been no
interruptions, feeling rather like the subject of an inquisition.
“Actually, he told me he was afraid of offending her because she
might cut him out of her will and give everything to his sister.”
She paused for effect. “Apparently his mother is loaded.”

Portae had no reply for that.

“This was after he told me that he couldn’t
consider marrying someone his mother disapproved of,” she said
indignantly. “I mean, the guy hadn’t even made it to first base
yet, and here he is talking about marriage! Not only that, but when
dinner arrived, he didn’t like the way they’d cooked his steak. But
does he do anything about it? No. Instead he spends the rest of the
meal whining about the poor service and the lousy food.” She made a
face. “By the time the jerk stiffed the waitress for the tip and
walked me to my car, I was more than happy to see the end of
him.”

Fallon gave her a lazy smile and let his eyes
drift down to her mouth. “I don’t suppose this was the slug kisser,
was it?”

Jasmine grimaced. “This guy didn’t rate a
kiss.”

Grinning mischievously, Rihlia asked, “How is
Michael, anyway?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.” Why was
Wiley baiting her? Jasmine scowled at her untouched dessert,
muttering, “At least now I won’t have to worry about avoiding him,
either.”

Urseya raised a brow at Keilor.
You see?
Now the truth comes out.
He frowned at her. “Was it a very bad
ending?” she inquired with cheerful interest.

Rihlia laughed and shook her head. “Only if
you count telling the poor guy—on the phone, mind you—never to call
her again and then hanging up before he could say anything about
it.”

“There was no point in dragging it out,”
Jasmine said with stiff dignity. Wiley was painting a rather ugly
picture of her romantic life, and she didn’t care for it one bit.
Besides, what was she doing, dragging all the skeletons out of her
closet in public like this? She didn’t notice that the others at
the table were beginning to look at Rihlia, wondering the same
thing.

Rihlia did notice, but ignored it with
determination. Jasmine would thank her later for dampening the
interest of the males present. She didn’t need their kind of
attention. Jasmine deserved better, and she was determined to see
her get it. “I guess it’s like that poem you dedicated to poor
Josh, huh? “’If they’re gutless when you meet them, they’ll be
gutless ‘til they die; the man was a mama’s boy, so I left him
there to cry.’”

Dead silence greeted her recital. Finally
Jasmine said slowly, “You know, B.B., if you’d like to rehash old
flames, I’m sure I could come up with a tale or two to amuse your
family. Like that time I found you getting it on hot and heavy
with—”

“Uh, that’s ok, Jas,” Rihlia hastily
interrupted. Jasmine’s threat was clear. Not only was she
threatening to spill all of her secrets—not that they were
excessive, just potentially embarrassing—but she would start
calling her Blue Balls as well, the name given to her by frustrated
boyfriends, and seal the humiliation. “We don’t want to bore them
with that.” She glanced at the glowering Jayems and gulped. “Why
don’t you try the custard? It’s really very good.”