Fire Pearl (Beyond Ontariese 5) (22 page)

His intense gaze searched hers for a long,
silent moment then he shook his head. “The rumor has circulated for
too long already. No one would believe us if we deny it now.”

“I’m sorry. I should have realized this was
reflecting badly on you.” Drakkin chuckled and she glared at him.
“It’s not funny. Indric has been very kind to me. I should have
realized people would think the worst of us.”

Drakkin looked at Indric, amusement clear in
his red-ringed eyes. “And you have your answer, my friend. Your
‘mistress’ is adorably naïve. Proceed accordingly.”

“Fine. I’m naïve.” Cinarra crossed her arms
over her chest and scooted away from Indric. They didn’t need to
make her feel like an idiot simply because she’d lived a
“compartmentalized” life. “Can we please move on? Why did you bring
up Charlotte’s celebration?”

“I think the wisest course at this point is
to proceed as if nothing happened,” Drakkin told her. “The security
measures here failed, so we must move you to a new location, but a
cover story is already in place to explain your presence at
Indric’s palace.”

And in Indric’s bed. The naughty thought
sent heat cascading from her chest to her abdomen. If only… “So we
move to the palace. Then what?”

“We spend time together and reinforce the
illusion that we’re lovers.” Indric’s voice sounded tight and
rough, but she couldn’t interpret his expression. “Then I escort
you to the gala on Ontariese and introduce you to some of my
friends. That way if you choose to visit them at some point in the
future, we’ve established a connection that has nothing to do with
Betaul’s true identity.”

“That makes sense.” She sighed. Spending
time with him was always pleasant, but touching him and being
touched by him would be torturous if it was only to reinforce an
illusion. “Charlotte and I speak frequently on the metaphysical
plane, but it will be wonderful to see her in person for a
change.”

“Then it’s settled.” Drakkin pushed to his
feet. “I’ll leave the details to you.”

“What about Dravon?” Indric asked, standing
as well. “Would it be wiser to send him home? There is a slim
possibility that he was the target.”

“Let’s leave things as they are for now.
I’ll let Givon know what happened and that we’re exploring every
possibility.”

Givon was Drakkin’s oldest son, Dravon’s
father, and current king of the mountain region of Hautell. Cinarra
had never met him, but his reputation as a wise leader and devoted
family man was impressive.

“I appreciate your assistance. As always.”
They clasped arms, Drakkin smiled at Cinarra, and then flashed out
of sight.

Still stinging from all the talk about her
naïveté, Cinarra stood and tried to brush past Indric. He caught
her elbow and pulled her around to face him.

Tension moved across his features and the
rings in his eyes gleamed. “Do you honestly believe that’s all this
is? Obligation?”

Her heart leapt in her breast and heat crept
up along her neck. In the beginning she’d allowed herself to
imagine that he cared for her, felt more than rudimentary
responsibility for her and Betaul. But the fantasy only shined a
light on her isolation and made her feel even lonelier.

“We’re friends.” When that didn’t seem to
please him, she said, “Good friends.”

He shifted his hands to her upper arms as if
he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss her or shake some sense
into her. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you. Never
doubt my desire.”

“But you never… Why wait until now to let me
know?”

“When Drakkin brought you here, you were
traumatized and confused.” His fingers gradually relaxed and he
sighed. “And I had a wife.”

“I could never trust a man who would cheat
on his wife. I’m glad you didn’t betray your vows to Talya.”

His arm closed around her and he pushed one
of his hands into her hair, splaying his fingers against the back
of her head. “Talya no longer stands between us, so I’ll make this
perfectly clear. I’m tired of
pretending
you’re my mistress.
It’s my intention to court you.”

Before she could react to the shocking
claim, his mouth covered hers, the kiss firm yet patient. His lips
caressed hers, coxed and seduced as he deepened the kiss. Her head
spun and her body melted into the embrace. This couldn’t be
happening. She must have slipped into a fevered dream.

His tongue eased past her lips and explored
the interior of her mouth, determined yet tender. He tilted his
head, fitting his mouth more comfortably over hers. She
concentrated on the sensual slide of his tongue against and around
hers, savoring his scent with each deep breath.

He pulled back with obvious reluctance and
looked into her eyes. “If you don’t have feelings for me, tell me
now. It will not compromise our friendship.”

Her self-consciousness returned as the
sensual haze faded and he lowered his hands to his sides. A
relationship with Indric would be complicated and amazing, but she
was scarred and broken. He knew she was a refugee, that she’d been
held prisoner most of her life, but he had no idea all she’d
suffered or the extraordinary lengths that had been necessary for
her escape. She wasn’t even sure she was capable of trusting
someone enough to open her heart. Indric deserved more than she’d
ever be able to give him.

“This is so sudden.” She touched her lips
with her fingertips, amazed by the emotions he’d unleashed with a
single kiss. “I don’t know what to think.”

“I didn’t ask what you thought. I asked what
you
felt
. It’s a simple question really. Do you feel more
than friendship for me?”

“Yes. But I’m not sure—”

Indric placed two fingers against her lips
and smiled. “I’m not asking for your answer now. I’m informing you
of my intention to court you. We’ll explore the possibilities
together.”

She turned her head to the side, dislodging
his fingers. “There are things you don’t know about me, things your
people would never accept.”

“If I can accept these things, so can my
people.” His tone brooked no argument, then his expression softened
and he added, “I’ve known you for nine cycles. What deep, dark
secrets could you possibly harbor?”

She swallowed hard. He had no idea. He knew
there were forces on Ontariese determined to destroy her and
Betaul. But unless Lord Drakkin had told Indric the details of her
escape, there were still all sorts of damning facts Indric didn’t
know.

Rather than risk snuffing out this romantic
spark before it had a chance to catch flame, she tried a subtle
approach. “You’ve visited me for nine cycles; that much is true.
But our conversations have always been polite and superficial. We
really don’t know each other that well.”

“Deepening our acquaintance and testing our
compatibility is what courting is all about.” His hands gently
stroked her bare arms, keeping her senses humming. “If you decide
this is not what you want, you’re free to walk away at any
time.”

“And if I don’t want to be ‘courted’ by a
king?”

A sexy smile parted his lips and he swooped
down for another kiss. “Then I’ll persuade you.” He whispered the
claim against her lips then released her and stepped back.
“Preparations must be made for you and Betaul. I shouldn’t be gone
long. Ametto has already called in reinforcements, so you’ll be
safe as long as you stay inside the house. Let Betaul sleep for a
couple of hours. I’ll return at dusk with an armed escort to
transport you and the boys to the palace.”

All she could manage was a stiff nod as he
kissed her hand and then flashed out of sight.

Anything-but-Ordinary
is Cyndi's creed
and her writing reflects her dedication to the concept. She writes
in a variety of genres, but seems happiest in outer space. Her
books have been nominated for numerous awards, and
Taken by
Storm
was named Best Fantasy/Science Fiction Romance of the
year by Romance Reviews Today.

She lives in Colorado with her high school
sweetheart turned husband of many years. With a pampered cat curled
on the corner of her desk, she dreams of fascinating words and
larger than life adventures -- and wouldn't have it any other
way! 

Webs
ite / Blog: 
http://www.cyndifriberg.com