Untouchable (6 page)

Since the first time she’d seen this man sitting at the king’s supper table, she had often wondered what it would be like to have Prince Alixandyr for a lover. She liked him; she was drawn to him. He was kind and strong and everything a man should be. He was a protector, an honorable man, a noble and cautious and unbelievably stirring man. He stirred her body and her heart. He made her wish for a different kind of life.

But this was not Prince Alixandyr, not entirely. Not completely. This was not the man she had come to admire and to want. Her body stiffened as she made the distinction. Physically the two parts of him were the same, but if the darkness ruled his soul, as it did now, he would no longer be the man she had come to admire. Was she wrong in her understanding that they were one and the same? Or was he himself correct when he said they were two? She should know, she should be able to tell, but she could not. In many ways this man remained a mystery to her.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked.

Sanura looked him in the eye, studying the dark green and looking deeper, trying to see more. There was not much of the man she truly desired present, at the moment. “I want Alixandyr.”

The man who touched her smiled crookedly. “No, you don’t. Alix would never dare to touch you this way.” His stroke continued. “It’s not
proper
. It’s not
right
.” Every word dripped with sarcasm. “You are meant for his brother, after all, and Alix would never dare to covet what his brother possesses. Not a woman, not the throne, not even a mother’s love.”

“Is that why you want me?” Sanura asked. “Because I’m his? Because I have been given to the emperor?”

“Yes,” he whispered, and she felt the truth of his easy confession.

He might as well have thrown a bucket of cold water over her. What had been wonderful and promising was now unclean. Her body grew cold, and she attempted to move away from his touch without staining him with the blue. Alix was not guilty. It wasn’t easy to dismiss Trystan entirely, to shake off her womanly reaction to his attentions, to his touch.

She did not like the man before her, but the body he claimed was that of a man she liked very much.

“You should go,” she said.

“Too bad.” He moved away from her, taking his hand from her body and sitting back, but showing no indication of leaving. “I wanted to watch you scream, love. I wanted to hear you gasp and moan. I wanted to feel you lurch against my hand.”

“I want Alixandyr,” she whispered. “Go away and send him to me. Now.” She wanted the warm green eyes, not the black/green that stared through her. She wanted the man of honor, not the thief who coveted what his brother possessed. “Go away, and send him to me.”

She asked for Alixandyr even though she knew Trystan would touch her, take her, while the man she craved would not.

His smile did not fade. “No. You can’t have him. I have learned to take control, and I won’t relinquish that control easily.”

“You’re not as strong as he is,” Sanura said softly. “He’ll be back.”

“I imagine so, but not now, and not permanently.” He grinned. “I’m coming into my own, and I like it very much. Alix won’t survive this journey, my blue seductress. If I think he’s winning the battle, if I believe that I will never have possession of this body, I will take you, willing or not. I will cover myself in the blue that stains your skin, and then I will present myself naked and deliriously happy to your sword-toting guards.” He moved closer. Too close, and yet still he did not touch her skin. “If I don’t win the fight for this body before we reach Arthes, you will be the death of your precious Alixandyr.”

ALIX
woke feeling as if he had not slept at all, but there was no time to lie about simply because he’d passed a restless night. His first order of business was to ask Sanura to ride beside him as she had in the early days of their journey. Being near her was a kind of torture, but keeping peace between the two women he was escorting to Jahn was of the utmost importance.

Even though Sanura had been avoiding him since their conversation by the stream, he was surprised when she turned about, saw him, and visibly flinched. She was not a shy woman, and he had never seen her cower or recoil from anything. He had certainly never given her reason to fear him. He crossed the camp to speak to her, and she remained wary. Openly suspicious. He could almost swear that she was about to run from him—or at least she wanted to run.

Sanura did not flee as he approached, but she had told him more than once that what she desired did not matter.

“It would be best if you rode with me today,” he said in an authoritative tone of voice. They would take this one day at a time, in a sensible manner.

She stared into his eyes, studying them more fiercely than was necessary, and then she relaxed. He could actually see the tension leave her body, he saw her limbs and her mouth relax until she was once again the sensuous and confident woman he had come to know.

“Why do you wish it?” she asked.

Alix attempted to inject a touch of cheerfulness into his voice, even though he did not feel at all cheerful. “Do you enjoy listening to the princess complain with each step the horses take?”

At this, she smiled. “No more than anyone else who travels at the rear of the column, I imagine. Is my comfort of such importance to you?”

He would not lie to her. “No.”

A light of understanding came into her eyes. “Ah, this is Edlyn’s doing, isn’t it? She wants me as far away from her as possible.”

“Yes.”

Sanura cocked her head and studied him for a moment. He didn’t like the calculating intelligence in her eyes, or the sense that she saw more than she should, as she always did. She was just a woman, no different from any other who was not his to take. And yet, he did not react to her as if she were any other woman.

“A more perverse woman would refuse your offer and spend the remaining days making conversation with our troublesome princess, simply to make the journey more difficult for you.”

“Are you perverse?” Why could he suddenly smell her hair, as if it were directly beneath his nose? Why did he have to clench his hands into fists to keep from shaking? Such a woman could surely bring stronger men to their knees, but he had never thought himself vulnerable to such nonsense.

“On occasion,” she admitted. “But not today. I will ride with you if it will make the journey easier for you . . . and for everyone else, of course.”

Alix bowed to Sanura in appreciation, and then he allowed his eyes to roam over her body. Her outfit was still gold and scanty, but the shimmer was of a different and darker shade. “You changed your traveling outfit.”

Her smile disappeared. “The top was stained.”

“Traveling is often the end of a suit of clothes. You will ruin two instead of one if you are worried about something so insignificant as a stain.”

She did not care for his observation, and he wondered if she blushed beneath the blue. It was impossible to tell. “Surely the emperor will replace any clothing that is damaged in my journey to him. Is your brother a miserly man? Will he expect me to adorn myself in a common fabric which is not the best?”

At the mention of his brother, Alix’s jaw clenched. There were moments when he forgot that Sanura was Jahn’s, a gift, an offering from the henpecked King of Tryfyn. “You will find the emperor to be most generous, especially where his women are concerned.”

Sanura nodded. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Women always liked Jahn. Sanura would be no different. It was a waste of time to wonder what might’ve been if he were emperor, if he had been born a few minutes before his brother.

One thing was certain. When Sanura saw what Jahn was at the pit of his soul, there would be no surprises, no battles, no shadows. No confusion. Jahn was exactly as he presented himself to the world: irreverent, fun-loving, and inherently good.

She was better off that Jahn had been born first.

WHEN
the party stopped at midday to rest the horses and grab a bite to eat and a sip of water, Vyrn grinned at Tari and winked broadly. His mind was not entirely on the willing and suggestible maid, but was more focused on those at the head of the column.

Last night Prince Alixandyr had visited Sanura’s tent. Vyrn had seen it with his own eyes. The prince and leader of this expedition slipped past the sleeping guards and into the forbidden tent. He had remained in the woman’s tent quite a while. Long enough, at least. And this morning the blue whore rode at his side, as she had in the early days. The implications were most unsavory—and yet they offered a new and neater opportunity than the one Vyrn had planned.

He had originally thought to make it look as if Princess Edlyn’s suitor from Tryfyn, one Tyren Mils, was the guilty party, but he had not yet been able to come up with a proper and foolproof plan. He still had lots of time to see the deed done, but with each step they took toward Arthes that time decreased.

Vyrn very casually made his way to Tari. He gave her his most charming grin and a small, private wave of his hand. The homely girl smiled as he approached, happy to be chosen on this day. He’d taken pains to give attention to all the female servants, as he had not begun this journey knowing whom he might need. Now he knew. He needed Tari.

“You look lovely today,” he said, staring into her eyes with sincerity and a touch of passion he knew she would see.

Tari blushed and glanced away. “Thank you. I know I don’t...”

He grabbed her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. “Don’t do that,” he said sharply. “Don’t pretend you don’t see your own unique beauty.”

Her skin was soft and smooth against his fingers. It was one of her few truly good features, and he could not say he did not enjoy the feel of it against his stronger, rougher hand. Youth was kind to Tari in that way, but the sharpness of her features would make her a truly ugly old woman. Not that he would ever see her in that state.

She blinked and met his stare. Of course she wanted to believe that she was beautiful, she wanted to believe that some man saw beyond the thin face and the slightly crooked nose. “Do you find me beautiful?” she asked, the uncertainty of her question tinged with hope.

“I do,” he said with a forced smile. “In fact, I wish I could kiss you here and now, in front of all these people.”

Again she blushed. Had she ever been kissed? Perhaps not. That was a pity, since girls who were unacquainted with passion made terrible lovers.

“Tonight,” he said with yet another wink. “Tonight perhaps we can steal a moment alone. What do you say, beautiful? ”

Tari nodded subtly and briefly, and Vyrn walked away from her with a satisfied smile.

Bedding one ugly girl in exchange for the perfect plan of action was a small price to pay. If he did not find Tari pleasing as a sexual partner, he would close his eyes and think of the former Empress Rikka and all she offered in exchange for his loyalty.

THREE
days passed, and Sanura saw no further signs of Prince Alixandyr’s darker side. Trystan, as she had come to think of him in order to distinguish between the two very different parts of one man, had likely expended a lot of energy in rising to control on that night when he’d touched her, and was compelled to rest. At least for now. He’d seemed determined to take his place in the world, to send Alix into the depths where the shadows had been trapped for so long. Perhaps he had overestimated his strength. She could hope that was true.

The prince did deign to speak to her on occasion, but there was a formality in his air, a distance, a wall he created between them. She did not feel that she could tell him what had happened that night. He would not believe her, in any case. No, he did not think himself in danger of losing the inner battle he fought.

At the present time, he fought more than one battle. Though Alix did not remember that Trystan had touched her, he was sexually attracted to her and at times was certainhe knew what she felt like, how she tasted. That lost memory had created a new conflict as his senses fought with his usually disciplined mind. That much of him she could see well.

Their travels had been blessed with good weather until the afternoon when clouds obscured the sun and the wind pulled with great force against the two banners which marked their party as regal and of two countries. Columbyana crimson and Tryfyn green whipped side by side, furling and snapping in the wind.

When the first drops fell, the prince’s eyes turned to Sanura. “Will the rain wash away your cosmetic?”

As he asked, a raindrop fell on her shoulder and meandered down her arm, leaving no mark. “No,” she said. “It takes the oil of another’s skin or a special ointment to remove the blue.”

“Then we can continue.”

Sanura nodded. Princess Edlyn was safe and dry in her coach, and the others were of no concern to Alixandyr, who wished only to move forward as quickly as possible.

The rain felt quite good on her skin. It was gentle and not too cold, and while the other women—the four maids who served the princess and the gift—covered their heads and cowered beneath the falling drops, Sanura continued forward as the sentinels and soldiers did—spine straight and head high. She was unafraid of rain. She was unafraid of what awaited her in Arthes. The women of the Agnese knew no fear. At the very least, they showed none.

More than once, as the journey continued through the soft spring rain, she turned her head and caught Alixandyr staring at her. More rightly, he stared at the way the rain-drops slipped over the blue without washing it away. He stared at the way her wet clothing clung to her body. Sanura did not pretend to be shy or demure, she did not pretend that she was ashamed for any man to see the shape of her body, whether it was bare or encased in wet golden fabric.

After a while the prince removed his crimson cloak and, moving his horse close to hers, draped the cloak over her shoulders and around her body.

“I am not the only one intrigued, Sanura,” he said in a lowered voice only she could hear.

“It does not matter,” she said as she clung to the cloak, which smelled of him. “I am accustomed to men watching me and craving what they cannot have.”

“I am not,” he said tersely.

She should feel a surge of pride that he wanted her so, that he went so far as to protect her from the prying eyes of other men. No one had ever really protected her, not even Zeryn, who had on occasion claimed to cherish her above all his wives. Alixandyr protected her. He asked about her comfort and shielded her from the eyes of the other men.

But she knew too well that nothing could come of it. Nothing could come of them. Her heart skipped a beat. At least, nothing
good
.

AS
had become their custom in the past few days, Tari and Vyrn met in the forest after everyone else was settled for the evening and the camp had become quiet.

The kissing had always been nice, but at first Tari had not liked the sex much. It had seemed rough and quick and had even been painful, but after a couple of secret liaisons in the woods that had changed. Now she looked forward to having Vyrn inside her, she looked forward to the unexpected pleasure and the way he held her after, while they still smelled of one another and their hearts no longer beat in steady rhythms. All during the day, she found herself thinking of the night before and planning for the night to come. She cast surreptitious glances at Vyrn, and though she never caught him doing the same, she was quite sure he did, when she wasn’t looking.

One thought remained with her day and night. If she caught a child, he would have to marry her. Long before leaving the king’s castle she had given up on all hopes of marriage, but Vyrn saw in her a beauty others did not see. Perhaps that meant he loved her already. Her mother had said no girl should give all of herself to a man without marriage, but her mother did not understand. Tari knew this was her one chance at happiness. Vyrn believed that he had captured her, but in truth she had been the one to do the catching. The thought warmed and pleased her.

Every night she held her breath and waited for the words she longed to hear:
I love you
or
Will you marry me
or even another
You’re beautiful
. None of those words had come. Not yet. They would, she was certain of it.

The damp ground was her bed tonight, but she did not mind. Perhaps her bed was hard and cold, but she was not alone upon it. Someone who thought she was beautiful lay with her, spent and satisfied. As usual, Tari’s mind wandered as she and Vyrn lay together. A baby would change everything. She would no longer be a plain and virginal servant, she’d be a wife. Vyrn’s wife. And he would love her. He would love her very well.

His heart beat very fast, as it often did after sex. She felt it pounding against her own. For a while they lay upon the chilly ground in companionable silence, a part of the night as surely as the moon.

“You have turned from a timid maid to a fine and vigorous lover,” he said, his mouth close to her ear when he decided to speak. As he finished the declaration, he licked her earlobe. They were not done for the night. Not yet. The sex was new and fascinating, and she could not get enough. Neither could he.

“Do I please you, then?” she asked.

Vyrn lifted his head and stared down at her. He gave her that grin that always set her heart to racing. “You do.” His fingers raked through her hair, and an unusually dreamy expression crossed his face. “You touch me more than you know, Tari. If only I could afford to take a wife...”

Tari’s entire body twitched. Even though he did not finish that important sentence, these were the words she longed to hear. “I am not very needful or expensive to keep,” she said, perhaps too eager.

Vyrn laughed softly. “A lowly placed sentinel can barely keep himself, dearest.”

“Dearest.” No one had ever called her dearest. She liked it very much. “Is there no way?” she whispered. “Nothing we can do to make what we want possible?” She raked her foot along his strong leg and swayed up to meet his body more fully with her own. Dreams could come true. The seemingly impossible might become reality, and she would gladly do whatever was required to make it happen.

“Well, there is a way, but it is a bit unsavory and I’m afraid it might not please you.”

“Anything which would keep us together would please me,” she confessed. “Anything.”

“Anything?” Vyrn raked his hands down her sides and then gripped her hips.

“Anything,” she whispered.

“There is a way.” He did not often look squarely at her, but at this moment he did. His eyes were not closed, as they sometimes were when they made love. He did not turn his head to the side, as if distracted. No, tonight he was looking at
her
.

Tari nodded. She had always known there would be some way for them to be together permanently.

“I will need your help,” he added.

Again, Tari nodded. “You shall have it. Whatever you need. Whatever it takes for us to be together forever . . . I will do it.” She had always heard that no woman should utter the words first, but they were on her tongue and in her heart, and they burst forth. “I love you, Vyrn. I love you.”

He did not respond in kind, but he loved her in his own way, and before too many moments had passed she did not care that he did not speak the words aloud.

“M’LADY,”
Alix said with strained patience, “I cannot alter the terrain or the weather in the name of your comfort.Much as I would like to do so,” he added without sincerity.

Princess Edlyn pursed her lips. As they neared Arthes, she became more and more demanding, more and more difficult. With luck and a change in the weather, they’d arrive in the capital city in two weeks, perhaps a day or two more. If the weather and his luck did not improve, they’d be lucky to reach Arthes by the deadline.

Alix was now certain that the emperor would not choose the princess as his bride—Jahn was no fool. It was very possible that Alix himself would be called upon to wed Edlyn in the name of diplomacy. No matter what the plan, no matter that Jahn insisted on choosing his own bride, one simply did not return a princess.

“Perhaps there is a more gentle route,” she suggested. “The hills, the constant up and down, it all makes me very dizzy.” She placed a hand on her head as if to demonstrate her ailment.

“A more roundabout route would make the trip weeks longer.” They did not have weeks. They were traveling at a snail’s pace as it was, primarily due to the princess’s demands for comfort.

“I do not care . . .” she began.

Alix felt a rush of anger, and he interrupted harshly. “You spoiled little twit! If I hear one more word of complaint from you, I’m going to lash you over a donkey’s back, gag you, and race the horses all the way to Arthes, where I will gladly dump you in my unfortunate brother’s lap!”

She blinked several times and backed up slowly. “How dare you . . .”

“Good Lord, no wonder your father is forced to send you to another country to wed. No man who spends more than two minutes in your company would willingly agree to a lifetime of misery as your husband.” Alix knew what he was saying was wrong. He knew the Tryfynian guards were moving closer, ready to defend their princess if necessary. He knew the words which spilled freely from his mouth were not entirely his own, and yet he could not stop. “If I could save poor Jahn from the horrors of making your acquaintance, I would do so.”

Edlyn did not cry, that was not her way, but she did pale and move farther back, as if trying to escape him one tiny step at a time. Her mouth moved as if she had an argument ready to fly forth, but no words emerged.

“Your tent is ready,” Alix said tersely. “I suggest you retreat there and stay until morning. If I hear one more word of complaint, one more whining demand, I’m not sure what I might do.”

She turned swiftly and raced toward the tent in question, not running but walking so fast she might as well have been. Alix smiled. He should’ve given her a piece of his mind at the start. Perhaps then this trip would not have been so miserable.

No one came near him as the sun set and the camp was prepared for the night. Only one even looked at Alex, and that was the blue woman, the slave who was to be presented to Jahn. Sanura looked at him with sad eyes and more than a touch of resignation. Death sentence or no, he was sorely tempted to grab her and plant his face to her breasts, to strip that scanty outfit from her fine body and bury himself inside her.

He shook off the thoughts. She was Jahn’s, not his, and no woman was worth literally dying for. Not even one such as Sanura.

Alix decided that he would sleep beneath the stars tonight. Only the women would have the luxury of tents until morning. He grabbed a small tin bowl of stew when it was ready, and sat near his bedroll to eat. His men and the Tryfynians avoided him. They were unaccustomed to his display of temper, he who was always imperturbable and calm. Apparently he had scared them all, not just the spoiled princess.

It was the sentinel Vyrn who approached him first, braver—or stupider—than the others. He smiled as he offereda mug of cider. “Drink, sir. I think Phyls oversalted the stew tonight.”

Alix took the mug. “The stew is a bit saltier than usual.” On some nights they ate only dried meat and hard biscuits, but since there was game aplenty in these hills and there were women about who could find wild vegetables and cook up a decent meal, on many evenings they indulged in a hot supper.

A touch of gray still hung in the sky, but soon it would be dark. There was no moon tonight, and though the star-light on such a night was lovely, it did nothing to illuminate the world below. The women had already retired to their tents—one angry and hurt, the other tempting and forbidden. It was just as well that they were both out of sight.

SANURA
did not attempt to see into everyone around her all the time. It would be too draining, too disconcerting.

But now and then, what a person was—or had become— was so strong she could not help but sense it. Like Vyrn’s tendency to violence, like Alix’s dark struggle. Sometimes she could not help but see.

When Tari entered her tent bearing a cup of steaming tea, Sanura caught a glimpse of what she’d been sensing for several days. Love. Warmth. Devotion. She did not know which of the men in the traveling party had made Tari fall in love with him, but it had to be one of the soldiers or sentinels. The timid maid had never even spoken to the prince, that Sanura could tell, and Paki and Kontar kept to themselves, outsiders in this traveling party as much as Sanura herself was. But the maids and the soldiers mingled on a daily basis, and the change in Tari had come during the travels. It was unmistakable and very strong.

Sanura was happy for the young girl. She wondered if she should warn Tari that not all men were as they seemed, but she quickly decided against it. Perhaps the man in question was toying with Tari, but it was just as possible that he had fallen in love with her. Even if her heart ended up broken, at least she knew love now, at this moment.