The Stone Prince (17 page)

Damn it! Why couldn’t he have been the domineering chauvinist she’d first thought him? But nooo. He turned out to be so much more than a dictatorial tyrant. He turned out to be a Prince Charming. Beneath his “women are subservient” views beat the heart of a mighty yet gentle man whose touch melted her reservations and whose determination was heartening. No, she might not trust him, but she still desired him.

She had to change the subject before she succumbed to tears. “Look, I’m going on my jog—that’s a type of exercise where you run a far length,” she explained at his confused expression. She
needed
to jog. “While I’m gone, you can change into your new clothes. Yesterday I bought you a pair of pants, some shirts, shoes, and, uh, some underwear. When I get back, we’ll visit the locations on my list.”

“I must insist I jog with you.”

At first, she wanted to refuse him. Then she realized that getting oxygen to his brain might actually do him some good. She found his new jogging shoes and handed them to him. “Sure you can keep up? I run every morning, and you’re battling a mighty hangover.”

“I will do more than keep up,
katya,
I will leave you far behind.”

He would, would he? His confidence helped her forget her sadness. Too, her competitive nature sprang to life. “Why don’t you prove it, then?”

“Always you demand proof. Well, this proof I will derive much pleasure in giving, for I long to see the expression on your face when the jog ends and you realize I have passed you. Twice.” With that, he pulled on his shoes and led her out the door.

The race was on.

Twenty minutes ticked by, and she held her own. They didn’t speak, so absorbed were they in their competition. They ran down a zigzag path a mile from her house. The path circled Earlywine Park and was designated specifically for runners. All around them the trees were radiant with shades of brown and green, and here and there pink-tipped flowers bloomed prettily. Twigs snapped beneath their pounding shoes. Dew kissed the air.

Another five minutes passed under the strenuous pace. Never slowing, Jorlan removed his shirt and draped it over his shoulders. She opened her mouth to complain, but the words froze in her throat. His deeply tanned, muscled chest was glazed with a sheen of sweat, and beads of the liquid were dripping along the ridges of his abdomen. The sight distracted her. She stumbled. Chuckling, he increased his speed and moved ahead of her. Katie glared at his back. He’d done that on purpose, the cheater.

By now, her muscles were burning with every step, but she too quickened her steps until she caught up with him. Another ten minutes passed. She was tiring, but didn’t slow. Jorlan showed no signs of slowing, either, damn him.

“Are we going to run forever?” she snapped, huffing and hating herself for it.

“I can,” was his casual reply.

“Well, so can I,” she growled and called forth every ounce of stamina she possessed. This man was
not
going to beat her!

But damn it all, there had to be a way to end this.

An idea immediately formed, and she wasn’t surprised by the speed with which her mind was working. With all the oxygen pumping through her, she could have calculated the atomic mass of an elephant while devising a plan to end world hunger.

“Race you to the house. Last one there has toilet duty.” With that, she took off full speed ahead.

He tried to pass her left side, but she veered in front of him, blocking his way. He moved to the right, but she had been anticipating the action and swerved to cut him off once again. Katie beat him to the door by half a second and nearly tripped over the newspaper lying on her porch. She managed to catch herself in time. “Ha! I won.” The words left her throat on short, choppy gasps of air. She would have laughed in his face, but her chest felt like a volcano churning with lava.

“You did not play fair,
katya.
” He sounded winded.

“Of course I didn’t play fair, Jorlan. Where’s the fun in that?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but a car eased up her driveway, diverting his attention. Her alien immediately mutated into I-will-save-you superhero mode. Only when the car parked behind her truck and Gray emerged from the driver’s seat did Jorlan relax. Her brother, however, looked stony and hard. A little hungover, but ready for battle all the same.

Katie’s smile of welcome evaporated. “Gray? Is everything all right?”

He ignored her. Another man exited the car, and Gray spoke to him in hushed, angry tones. The man was an inch or two shorter than Gray, which put him only a bit taller than Katie. He had dark-brown hair and big puppy-dog eyes. Women probably went crazy for him. Had Katie met him a day ago, she might have gone crazy for him, too—at least for the first date. Now her thoughts were consumed with the warrior beside her.

Gray moved to the porch. He didn’t make any introductions. He got straight to the point. “I want to talk to you about last night, about some things Jorlan said to me and the boys.”

Though her brother was speaking to her, he was watching Jorlan. Katie gazed first at one man, then the other. Jorlan had his arms crossed over his chest; his eyes were narrowed to tiny slits; and his nostrils were flared. They were in some sort of high noon showdown.

“He’s leaving you in two weeks,” Gray continued.

“I know.” Her shoulders sagged with relief. For a minute, she’d thought Gray meant to tell her Jorlan had confessed he was from another planet. “Now that that’s settled, you have exactly five seconds to apologize for your behavior,” she said, her tone sugary sweet, “or I’m going to snap your neck like a twig.”

The handsome stranger at Gray’s side laughed. It was the first sound he had made during the entire exchange. “You said she was spunky, Gray,” the man said, still laughing. “You didn’t say she was homicidal.”

Gray decided then to make the proper introductions. “Katie, Jorlan, this is Steve Harris. Steve, this is my sister Katie and her friend, Jorlan. He’s a romance cover model.” His disgust over that fact lingered long after his words.

This
was Steve? Katie thought, surprised.

This
was Steve? Jorlan thought darkly. The man Katie’s brothers wanted her to wed?

“Nice to meet you,” Steve told them.

“You, too.” Katie hadn’t quite managed to close her mouth yet.

Seething, Jorlan remained silent, though the if-you-touch-her-you-will-die glare he wore said plenty. Just in case Steve did not get the hint, he draped a possessive hand around Katie’s waist.

Steve didn’t even try to shake her hand in greeting.

“I can’t believe you’re so calm about this.” Gray raked a hand through his hair. “Do you never follow advice, Katie? What am I always telling you?”

“Don’t talk to strangers.”

“Not that.”

“Buckle up or die.”

“Not that, either.”

“Carry Mace—”

“That you should never spend time with a man who won’t stick around.”

Katie placed her hands on his shoulders, leaned up, and kissed her brother on the cheek. “I love you, too, Gray. Now get out of here. I’ve got things to do.”

“We’re not finished with this conversation.” He gazed over her shoulder and pinned Jorlan with an expectant stare. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Her alien nodded stiffly.

“No, you will not talk to him later,” she called.

But Gray didn’t hear her. He and Steve had already piled into their car and were racing away.

Jorlan’s palms curled around her forearm, tight and menacing. He swung her around. “You will not see that man again.”

“My brother?”

“Nay, the other.”

What was this? A moment of jealousy? She studied him, watching, gauging. Oh, yes. This gorgeous barbarian was indeed jealous. He fairly seethed with it. Katie entertained a flicker of delight and had to hide her smile. He deserved this after what he had put her through with the redhead. “And what are you going to do to me if I
do
see him?”

The corner of his eye twitched. “Do you truly wish to know the answer to that?”

“Absolutely.” Some of her smile peeked through.

Slowly, desire eclipsed his anger. He gave her that cocky look of his that said he knew exactly how to make a woman’s punishment pleasurable. “I will—” He paused, as if searching for just the right method of correction.

“Spank me?” she offered helpfully.

He gave a stiff shake of his head.

She tried again. “Douse my naked body with honey?”

His eyes ignited with blue fire. “Nay. I’ll prove your desire for me wherever we happen to be, whoever happens to be around us.”

“If you’re so tough, why don’t you just try it?” The
words slipped out before she had time to think about them. She had just issued a sexually charged challenge to a fierce competitor, a man who did not like to lose.

“Do you provoke me?” he said softly. “I shall. I shall indeed.”

T
HREE DAYS AND
twelve psychics later, Katie and Jorlan had developed a routine.

Morning: jog, visit psychics.

Afternoon: work at the Victorian.

Evening: talk, watch television.

Twilight: sleep apart and fantasize.

Though his body and mind screamed that he at last tup her, that his time was quickly running out, Jorlan hadn’t kissed Katie, hadn’t touched her, or whispered erotic words to her. Nay, he was subtly, through pleasantries and courtesies, trying to win her love and convince her to wed him. So far, he had failed. In fact, his solicitous manner had had the opposite effect on Katie, and it seemed as if she retreated a bit more from him each day. The continued failure, both with Katie and with the psychics, was causing his desperation to grow.

Only ten days remained. Ten short days until the curse claimed him once more.

Could he afford to lose another day to her stubbornness? More and more he felt the coldness of stone running through his blood, trying to freeze him where he stood. He had to make Katie love him. Had to force her to fall by whatever means necessary. He
couldn’t tolerate failure much longer. Soon. He had to win her soon.

But what could he try that he had not already tried?

He’d pursued her sexually, had made her jealous, had shared his past with her, had given her time, and when all of that failed, had pursued her friendship, trying to prove to her that he truly did care for her and desired her happiness. Yet, his efforts had gotten him nothing but lost time.

Curse her. Did she not understand the great honor he was paying her by offering to make her his temporary life-mate? Nay, she did not! With her “No, I will not wed you” and her “You must obey my rules,” the woman was quickly eradicating his legendary control. She should know him well enough by now to know that he
would
convince her to come with him, that she
would
give him her heart, and that she
would
belong to him for however long he wanted to keep her.

He would accept nothing less than absolute compliance from her.

If only this day did not seem destined for failure, as well.

After a minor accident involving Katie’s transportation and a stationary pole, six jaunts into nonmagical establishments and a bout of stomach sickness caused, Jorlan was sure, by a slab of greasy food Katie referred to as pizza, he was not in a good mood. Plus, the new clothing he wore—the item Katie called underwear—was nigh smashing his man parts.

“Well, that’s all of them,” Katie said, brushing her hands together once, twice.

They stood outside The Knowing Palm, a small
building that supposedly housed one of the greatest male psychics ever to live.
Ever to live in a delusional world of his own creation, mayhap.
Birds soared high above him, circling and searching for food. The hot sun beat down. A soft wind danced about, carrying a gentle scent, like flowers and rain that reminded him of Katie.

“We’ve wasted our morning in one shop or another.” Katie shielded her eyes with her hand. “We’ve got work to do, so let’s head over to the Victorian. I’ll put together another list tonight. The Internet is sure to have more names, and we can visit one or two over the weekend. If they’re not too far,” she added.

He paid her speech no heed. “We have been to six places,
katya,
yet there were seven left on your list.”

Her gaze flicked away guiltily. “We’re not going to the seventh.”

“Why not?”

“It’ll take us four hours to get there and four hours to get back.”

“So?”

“So, that’s hell on the butt, and I’m not doing it.”

“I shall massage away any discomfort you acquire.”

She crossed her hands over her chest. “I have to work in order to live, Jorlan, because when I work, I make money and that money pays for my food and shelter. I’ve gotten behind since you entered my life. I’m not making that drive.”

He simply stared at her.

She bared her teeth in a scowl. “Contrary to what you might think, I do not speak to hear my own voice.
I said we could visit more places over the weekend, and we will.”

“I do not wish to wait. I will take your transportation and drive myself.”

“No. No. No!” Katie fisted her hands on her hips and stood her ground. She wasn’t giving in on this and that was final. No way in hell did she want to take an eight-hour road trip. They’d been in and out of the car all morning, and besides that, she really
did
have to work.

But that isn’t why you don’t want to go.
The truth danced within her mind, and Katie stiffened. She hadn’t wanted to visit any psychics today. And she more specifically didn’t want to visit this next one, not because of work or a sore butt, but because she feared success. If they found someone who could take Jorlan home, he’d leave her sooner rather than later.

Didn’t he realize that she wanted him to stay here with her a while longer?

No, he didn’t realize, because he was moving toward her with intent shining in his eyes. She backed up. He continued to advance. Then he was on her. Surprisingly, he didn’t haul her into the truck, and demand she drive him to Lubbock. He simply reached inside her beige short pockets—an innocent touch that caused fireworks to explode between her legs because it was the first touch he’d given her in three days, the jerk—and pulled out the truck ignition key.

Her body screamed
find more keys!
But she could tell by the irritated look etching Jorlan’s face that assaulting her person, pleasurably or otherwise, was not
his intent. He turned away. “I will visit this location, and then I will return to you.”

In a flash she pictured him stranded on some isolated road, or worse, a populated town demanding everyone obey his every command. Someone would take offense, there would be a fight, Jorlan would win (he had a spatula, after all) and the other person would die. Then Jorlan would be hauled away to jail, where he would await trial. The government would find out that he was from another planet and all hell would break loose.

She couldn’t let that happen.

Katie raced behind him, swiped out her foot and tripped him. He crashed onto the hard ground, falling like a condemned home. She moved quickly, rushing to his hands and snatching the key. When she tried to dart out of reach, he latched on to her ankle. The next thing she knew, she was lying flat on her stomach and trying to suck in air.

Jorlan flipped her over, pried the key from her Kung Fu grip and smiled.

Smiled!

She used her hands to push herself upright and watched him practically skip to the truck.

“Wait!” She jolted after him, spitting gravel along the way. She latched on to his arm. “Let’s compromise about this.”

“I have been a warrior my entire life. I know nothing of compromise.”

With those ominous words ringing in her ears, he shook off her hold and strode to the driver’s side door of her truck. She hopped in front of the vehicle, arms splayed wide. “You compromised about the weapons,
didn’t you? You compromised about sleeping on my floor instead of my bed.” She expected him to pick her up and carry her to the side of the road, effectively moving her out of his way.

He didn’t. He remained beside the open door. “If you are concerned about so long a drive,” he said, his tone deceptively soft, “we will not come back until the new dawning.”

“No. Absolutely not. I’ve lost enough time because of you.”

“Then I will see you later.” He settled himself inside the cab.

“You don’t know which way to go.” Ha! That should stop him.

The corners of his lips rose in another smug smile. “You have used this map all these many days.” He held up the booklet in question. “Think you I cannot do the same?”

“You don’t know the names of the highways, and you can’t read my language. Besides that, I’ll turn you in to the police for stealing my car.”

He sighed. “Much do I regret the use of force,
katya.
”

His eyes were darkened, and she paused. “You haven’t used any force,” she said cautiously.

“But I am going to.”

Before she had time to blink, he was out of the car and closing the distance between them. With only minimal protest on her part, he scooped her up into his arms. She could have struggled or fought him harder, but she didn’t want to hurt him. Without a word, he dumped her into the passenger seat and settled himself behind the wheel.

“Now you will go with me,” he said confidently.

Katie made a grab for the key. He easily evaded her, then shoved the jagged metal into the ignition and started pushing pedals. Jerk. Stop. Jerk. Stop. A cold sweat broke over her, and she scooted to his side, trying to take control of the wheel.

He held fast.

If she saw one car, even one, headed toward them, she was going to shove Jorlan out the driver-side door—no matter how many injuries he would sustain. Or, maybe she’d press his carotid artery until he passed out. For now, they were alone on the road and she had time to gently make him rethink this.

“You’re giving me whiplash,” she shouted.

Unconcerned by her supposed pain, he continued on.

“Do you want to kill us both? If you keep this up, you’re going to. And you’re going to ruin my truck! This trip is ridiculous. We don’t even have a change of clothes. We’ll have to come back tonight and then my butt will really hurt and you’ll be sorry because I’ll take it out on you. I have too much work to do on the house. I’m on the clock, you big jackass, and you’re going to pay me for my time.”

“Are you trying to make me wish I’d cut off my ears and left them behind?” he growled, still not sparing her a glance.

“Yes!”

He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had long since turned white. The truck inched along the road, doing no more than five miles per hour.

“I could walk faster than this, grandpa.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, and the beleaguered expression on his face was almost comical. “You will clamp your lips together,
katya,
or I will do it for you.”

“Then do it for me. I’m not shutting up. And know this. If you try and make me stay silent, there will be no one who can tell you that you’re going the
wrong freaking way!
” Before he could respond, she leaned forward and jerked the volume on the radio to full blast. Meredith Brooks belted out “Bitch.”

The word instantly hit home, and Katie cringed. He didn’t deserve this. He just wanted to go home. Jorlan must think she suffered from permanent PMS. Maybe that was why he hadn’t touched her these last few days. He was afraid she’d attack and kill him in his sleep. Sighing, she turned down the radio. “Pull over,” she told him.

“Nay.” The word emerged like the bark of a caged animal.

“Pull over. I’ll drive us there.”

His chin snapped around. He faced her hopefully. “You speak true?”

“Yes, damn it. Now pull over.”

He would have stopped right there in the middle of the road, so great was his relief. She pointed to the side. “Don’t stop here. Stop over there.” Once at a halt, they quickly switched places.

“You really owe me for this,” she muttered.

“I can very easily pay you once we arrive. I need only a bed and five minutes of your time.” The teasing sparkle was back in his eyes, and only then did she realize how much she’d missed it.

“Five minutes?”

“Nay. I have changed my mind.” His lips twitched. “I only need two.”

Katie shook her head and turned them in the right direction. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“Aye. I know.”

And she liked him that way.

They drove in silence for about twenty miles, the soft hum of the radio the only noise. Katie felt Jorlan’s body heat, keeping her mind in the gutter. Perhaps she was, by nature, more sensual than she’d realized. Or perhaps she was simply carnally addicted to Jorlan, because her brain began to weave ribbons of fantasy through her mind. She saw it all so clearly. Jorlan would scoot closer beside her and trail his hand up her thigh, making her shiver and ache for more. His eyes would devour her as he whispered a provocation she could not ignore.
I dare you to experience your ultimate pleasure, katya.
And she would. Oh, she would. The hot tips of his fingers would push aside her panties and slip easily inside. He would stroke her then, first with leisurely slowness, like a deliberate brush of velvet across steel, then with eager swiftness.

Perhaps he would take his fingers from her and place them in his mouth, as if he couldn’t live another moment without knowing the taste of her.

“Katie?”

The voice was real, not part of her fantasy, and she jolted into awareness. “What!”

“Do you purposefully drive like this?”

“Oh, God!” Amid honks and flashing middle fingers, she jerked the truck off the median and into the
proper lane. She took a moment to collect her wits, slow her breathing and control her shaking—shaking that had nothing to do with bad driving. Lord, she wanted to explore his body, wanted to allow him to explore hers. She wanted to feel the hard ripples of his muscles, the smooth silkiness of his skin.