The Charmer (33 page)

“I’m not completely stupid, you know,” she
grumbled, pausing in her ministrations. “I think I can figure that
out.”

Turning around, he took her hands in his.
“You aren’t stupid, only ignorant of some of the dangers we face,
dangers you now need to know about.” Careful not to edit out even
the worst of Tor Maphin’s insults, though he wanted to, he repeated
what had been said at the council. She needed to know.

She took it better than he’d expected.

“That homely sack of dog puke!” she
exclaimed. “He’s lucky you didn’t carve him up into stew meat.”

“I was tempted,” he said with a quick smile.
“But now you see why I’m concerned. Tor is not our only enemy.” His
gaze softened, and he stroked her cheek. “Be careful, love, but
don’t be afraid. I will keep you safe.”

Safety was overrated.

“You’re certain your husband would not object
to this?” Ma-at asked again, a frown marring his stolid face. He
glanced at Isfael, who stood nearby with his arms crossed and a
scowl on his face, but made no move to stop her. No support there.
He tried again, “He didn’t seem pleased by the idea when we first
arrived.”

Jasmine slung a leg over the Symbiont cycle
and grabbed Leo’s waist. She’d practically begged to ride the
cycle, humbling herself with shameless determination, and she was
not about to miss this chance. “That was then, this is now.
Besides, Keilor’s an understanding kind of guy.”

Isfael snorted and rolled his eyes. Ma-at and
Scoir, who’d accompanied Leo, frowned, but before they could do
anything, the silver cycle whipped tendrils around its rider’s
legs, and Leo gunned the throttle.

Just in time to shoot past the angry form of
Keilor and a startled Jackson.

Jackson watched the pair without expression.
“Leo is a good rider, her Symbiont dependable.”

The look Keilor shot him was pure murder.
Then his eyes narrowed back on the moving blur that was his
wife.

What fun!

Jasmine shouted with delight as the cycle
took the curve of the practice field with dizzying speed. “This
thing
rocks!
” she yelled, relishing the wind tugging at her
ponytail. “Rihlia would kill to ride this baby,” she gloated.

“Can’t,” Leo shouted back over her shoulder.
“It won’t take Haunts.” She slowed to a more sedate pace,
conserving the symbiont cycle’s living strength, allowing it to
‘breathe’. Unfortunately, the slower pace brought the glowering
male faces of their small audience into focus. Leo dared only two
more passes before she slowed the creature down to park directly in
front of Keilor.

Knowing the value of first attack, Jasmine
leapt onto the packed dirt and flung her arms around her husband,
giving him a quick kiss. Then she started chattering, far too fast
for him to speak. “Did you see me? Can you believe it? That thing
must go a hundred miles an hour! Can I—”

Keilor touched two fingers to her lips,
cutting off the flow off words. “I am pleased you enjoyed yourself,
but I think it would be best to wait until after the baby is born
before you go tempting fate again, yes?”

Encouraged by the slight amusement lurking in
his eyes but chastened by his very real concern and the shades of
anger clinging to his mouth, she ducked her head and nodded in
agreement. “I promise not to go so fast again until after the baby
is born, unless it’s life or death. Deal?”

Danger flashed in her husband’s eyes. “We
will talk about it further.” Nodding to the riders, he took her arm
and walked toward the citadel at a rapid pace. Jasmine smiled and
sent a jaunty wave to Leo, not particularly concerned.

Keilor’s hand tightened at her nonchalance
and then relaxed a hair, careful not to bruise. As soon as they’d
passed out of earshot, he said in a tight, contained voice, “I
thought I’d made my wishes very clear last night.”

With a verbal shrug, Jasmine answered, “I’m a
grown woman, Keilor, even if I’m not as old as however old it is
you are. I knew the risks, and I certainly don’t need a grandfather
telling me what to do at this late date.”

Golden flames danced in his Haunt eyes. “You
took the risk in the name of fun, and to prove your independence.
My concerns were never an issue to you.”

There was a heartbeat of silence.
“Well...they did pass through my mind. But come off it, Keilor,
what are you going to do, beat me?” She dared a glance at his face
and faltered. He did look kind of mad.

“See that we are not disturbed,” he told
Isfael and the guard who was filling in for Raziel. Once in their
room, he locked the door.

Chapter 28

Jasmine unbuckled her gun belt and laid the
weapon on the table. When she turned around, he was there, already
divested of his own gear. A startled rush of air escaped her as he
backed her up against the table, picked her up and deposited her on
the top. Closing the distance between them with a decisive movement
of his hips, he took hold of her waist. Holding her eyes, he
whispered, “My wishes are my commands, Dragonfly. I am not only
your husband, but your lord, and you will obey me as such.”

She cocked her head, trying to hide her rapid
breathing. “Getting a little dramatic, are we—Oh!” In seconds she
was naked, with little idea how, and this time there was nothing
between her bare bottom and smooth, hard wood. “You animal, you,”
she breathed, excited but attempting to remain in control with a
show of worldliness.

Dumb move.

Keilor grabbed her hips and pulled her to
him, bringing her tender parts flush up against the rough material
of his pants and his potent arousal. His stinging nip on her tender
throat made her jump, but the suction he applied to soothe her skin
left her panting.

It was when she started to wind her arms
around his neck and rub against him that she understood Keilor
wasn’t playing a game. He caught her hands and placed them flat
against the table, holding them there while he resumed his play at
her throat, slowly moving lower.

She moaned with frustration and tried to rub
against him, but he moved back, just out of reach, and resumed his
teasing. “Keilor,” she said in warning, becoming annoyed. “Let
me

ah! Stop with the nips all–
ohh
…”
His hot, wet mouth closed over one nipple, driving out all her
breath, and his restraint of her hands only made her more aware of
how much she wanted to touch him.

Using the only part of her that was free, she
tried to wrap her legs around his waist, but he broke away and
stalked off to her closet, returning with two long sashes and a
white fur coat. He tossed the coat on the table and lifted his
shocked wife, laying her down on the unbearably silky fur.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, alarmed
when he began binding the sashes around the table legs. She tried
escaping, but he was much too quick for her, and in less than a
minute she found herself on her back, her hands securely fastened
above her head.

For a moment Keilor merely looked at her, his
eyes drifting down her body and fastening with potent awareness at
the slick place between her thighs, making her tremble with both
embarrassment and desire. “Stop it,” she whispered, closing her
eyes.

The door of the cooler in her room opened and
shut, and then there was a rustling in the cupboard by the table.
Two clinks sounded, just above her head, out of sight and reach.
Then the table shook a little, and her eyes opened in time to see
Keilor vault onto the top.

He took off his clothes, and he was very,
very slow about it.

By the time he’d removed his pants and
dragged them over her quivering thighs, she was in a sweat, and
fighting not to twist on the fur, knowing its silky caress on her
naked skin would be her undoing.

He tossed the pants. Dropping to his knees,
her crawled over her, straddling her body, but touching very little
of it. Then he parted her thighs with one knee and slowly slid down
the length of her.

She clenched her teeth at the sensual
assault, but a long, tortured hiss escaped anyway. “Patience is not
always a virtue,” she rasped, and lunged up, trying to capture his
lips. The restraints stopped her a hair’s breadth from his
mouth.

Cool dark hair caressed her as he teased her
lips, nibbling and licking but refusing to go deeper, to let her
respond. She twisted in frustration, snarling at him as his mouth
slid aside to torment her ear. “Now, man, NOW!” she shouted,
wrapping a leg around his hips and surging upwards.

Instead of complying, he rolled aside and
propped his head on his hand as he watched her with masculine
satisfaction. “Who is your husband?”

“You are, blast you! You scurvy,
bloodless—”

”What is my name?” he interrupted, circling
one dusky nipple with lazy possession.

She moaned, and her head rolled to the side.
“Keilor.”

“Mmm,” he said, and rewarded her with a
brief, too shallow kiss. “And who is your lord?”

“God!” she snapped, just to irritate him.

“Among men,” he allowed, amused. His finger
trailed down her belly and slowly circled her navel.

Shivers began and would not stop, but danged
if she’d give him the satisfaction. “You really get off on these
domination games, don’t you, babe? So sorry to disappoint you,
but—” She broke off as he reached above her, bringing a bottle of
dark cinnamon oil, packed full of the curled bark, and a decanter
of rich caramel sauce into view. “What are you doing with
that?”

He winked at her and uncorked the oil,
pouring a generous pool into the palm of his hand.

Nearly mesmerized and a touch horrified at
what that stuff was going to do to her control, she whispered,
“That can’t be good for fur.”

He chuckled, and a moment later his slick
hands came down on her body.

It was far worse than she’d imagined. She
pleaded and begged, hollered and swore, but he was relentless.
Every square inch of her body was treated to a heated, merciless
torture.

All but the one place she needed him the
most.

It was the kisses that were her final
undoing.

“Will you obey me?” he whispered against her
lips, teasing her with butterfly kisses when what she need was hard
contact. “Am I your lord?”

“Mercenary!” she snapped, too close to losing
the skirmish.

“Marauder,” he agreed, amused. He rubbed his
hard length against her, stealing another gasp. He licked the
inside of her mouth.

A woman could only take so much. “Yes!” she
gasped. “My lord, you can be my lord. Please!”

Triumph flared in his eyes. “I am your lord,
and you will obey me.”

For a moment the words stuck in her throat,
but it only took one teasing touch of him at her swollen entrance
and she started babbling, “Yes! Oh, God,
yes,
please, you’re
my lord, I’ll obey, I’ll—” A scream tore from her throat as he slid
deep, deep inside her, pinning her squirming hips to the table.

He kissed her long and sweet. “Thank you,” he
murmured, and began to love her with a gentle passion that soon
turned to flaming need. He could not get enough, and she strained
against her bonds until he set her loose. She lunged up, wrapping
around him with arms and legs, sinking her teeth lightly into his
shoulder until screams and sobs of pleasure forced her to let
go.

The pleasure that came then was the best
they’d ever known.

“What did you get that out for?” Jasmine
asked later, snuggling against Keilor with sated affection.

He took up the decanter of caramel sauce and
gave her a wicked grin. “Let me show you.”

Keilor was surprised to find Raziel leaning
against the opposite wall when he exited. Then he remembered it was
time for his shift to begin.

Raziel smirked, his blue eyes twinkling as he
toyed with his earring. “Is it safe to return to Haunt? The noise
coming through the door was too much even for poor human ears.”

A rare flush bronzed Keilor’s cheekbones.
“I’m out here, aren’t I?”

“So you are.” Raziel inclined his head in
merry acknowledgment.

Keilor snorted, choosing to ignore his
friend’s imprudence even as a smile teased his lips.

They
had
been rather noisy.

“We seem to be making a bad habit of this,”
Jasmine joked, sitting down in the chair beside her friend’s bed
two days later. “How are you doing, Ri?”

“I’m beginning to understand why you were
such a grouchy patient.” She shifted against the mattress,
grimacing in discomfort. “Between Jayems’ hovering and my mother
trying to cheer me up, I’m slowly going mad. Tell me I wasn’t that
bad.”

Jasmine grinned. “Worse. Just be glad you
don’t have to live on liquids for a week,” she said when Rihlia
groaned in dismay. “The important thing is you’re going to be okay,
the baby is doing fine, and you’ll be on your feet in time to watch
your toes disappear under your baby belly.”

Rihlia glared, but then her look softened.
“Thank you, Jasmine. If it hadn’t been for you

”

“You would have done the same for me,”
Jasmine interrupted before Rihlia could grow maudlin again. The
pregnancy was really turning Rihlia into a bawl baby. Jasmine
shuddered. She’d count herself lucky if all she suffered from was
bad temper.

Rihlia picked at the covers. “I suppose you
heard that one of the assassins was Knightin?”

Keilor had told Jasmine they’d uncovered
evidence that Knightin had been receiving bribes during the last
year, possibly longer. A discrete investigation had begun to search
for other possible traitors.

“Jayems is talking about moving me to a safer
place until all of this is over.”

Jasmine looked up, surprised. “No one has
said anything to me.”