Authors: Donna Kauffman
Archer smiled at her. “And if we need anything?”
The small woman turned with a smile of her own. “You won’t.”
Archer stepped through the screen, pulling Talia with him. They both turned in time to see the queen’s guard take up stations along the passageway.
Archer nodded in approval, then the screen turned solid and they were inside their chamber.
Prison, actually. Talia felt a sense of claustrophobia, of being sealed inside a tomb or something. Until she turned around at Archer’s urging.
“Look at this,” he said. “Nice setup.”
Talia’s mouth dropped open. It was like something from a sultan’s fantasy. Silk draped the walls and the carpeting was so thick it almost swallowed her sandals. The ceiling was a recessed dome, painted with scenes that Talia only glanced at, but already knew were likely produced by the same artist who had done the handiwork in the passageway. She looked back to the room, which was dominated by a huge fireplace, and fronted by a sumptuous, wide lounge upholstered in opulent jewel-toned fabric and edged with thick, gold-colored fringe.
“It’s … different.”
Archer laughed. “Do you think the queen is trying to tell us something?”
Talia tried to laugh, but it came out as a sort of rasp. “Gee, I can’t wait to see the bedroom.”
Archer grabbed her hand and tugged her to one of two doors, framed in gold, on the far wall.
“I was joking,” she managed, but he was already halfway there. “Archer!”
He looked over his shoulder. “Aren’t you curious?”
She stalled. She was curious, but she didn’t think she wanted to tell him that. She was still reeling from everything else she’d witnessed today.
“Come on. Dinner will probably be here shortly. If there is a bathroom behind that other door, you can wash up as soon as we’re done exploring, okay?”
Now she did laugh. “We’re not at Club Med, you know.”
“Club what?”
“Never mind.” She lifted her free hand. “Lead on, MacDuff.”
“And people say Aussies make no sense.”
She was smiling at his back when he opened the door and swept her through in front of him. Her smile froze on her face.
Oh. My. God
was her first and only thought.
Archer crowded closer and nudged her farther into the room so he could see. He whistled his appreciation. “You know, I never understood why people threw money away on decorators. I’m rethinking my position on that.”
“I bet,” Talia said dryly. She slid her hand from his and stepped farther into the room. If the front room had been pure sex, this room was downright pornography. “Well, the queen accomplished one
thing,” she said, looking over the sea of silk and pillows that only someone who thought about sex twenty-four hours a day might describe as a bed.
“And that is?”
His voice was disturbingly close, right behind her left ear. But he didn’t touch her. In some ways, that was even more torturous. “She’s taken my mind off my worries.”
Archer chuckled and the husky sound sent ripples of pleasure over her skin. “There is only one thing you’re supposed to do in this room. And it’s not worrying.”
Talia slid out of his way and circled the massive bed to look at the various lounges that encircled the large room. Each one was structured in an … unusual shape. “What in God’s name are you supposed to do on these?” She looked up to find Archer’s grin so broad it made his cleft almost slice his chin in half. “Never mind,” she said firmly. “I don’t want to know. And I don’t want to know how you know, either. Sex can’t have changed that much in a couple hundred years, and if by some miracle it has, I don’t think I want to know about that either.”
Archer shrugged and moved off to examine some of the lounges. “If you say so.”
Talia made a face at his back, but then the painting on the wall just beyond the lounge in front of her caught her eye. The same pair of lovers that starred in the painting in the hallway were performing an encore. On a piece of furniture much like the one positioned in front of her. “So,” she murmured. “That’s how you use that.”
She ignored Archer’s low laugh. But that didn’t stop her from moving on to the next lounge and the next painting. “Wow.” And on to the next one. “Jesus.” And the next one. “Dear God, how does she
do that?” By the last one her knees were decidedly weak and her panties unabashedly soaked.
Archer cleared his throat, making her start. She quickly turned around and attempted a self-deprecating smile. “I’ve heard of circuit training, but these two—” She gestured toward the walls in general, then gave up any pretense of being cool about this, and closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands.
The next thing she felt was Archer’s fingers prying her hands free, then lifting her chin. “Look at me.”
She did, warily.
“When they bring dinner, I’ll have them move us.”
It was the last thing she’d expected from him.
“The queen has had her little joke and I can honestly say I appreciate her sense of humor,” he went on. “But you have enough to deal with, without—”
Talia shut him up with a kiss. When she finally let him up for air, she was already unbuttoning his shirt. “Dinner can wait.”
A
rcher’s muscles bunched in his shoulders as Talia arched beneath him. The silk draped across the bed felt slick against his skin … and looked damn erotic against hers. Her hips slid easily up to his and he leaned down to take her mouth again as he pushed deep into her. “Talia,” he groaned. “Dear God.”
“I know,” she whispered, then moaned as he moved harder and faster. She grabbed his shoulders and hung on, moving with his every thrust. “Devin. Please.”
“I will, Tali. I will.” And he did. And that was the way it went, for hours. Their bodies communicated with very little need for words.
Finally, their bodies still twitching from their most recent release, Talia slid off Archer and the divan, down onto the carpet, her face serene, sated … and smug. She stretched, smiling even as she winced.
Archer slid onto the thick carpet beside her. “Too rough?” He pulled her limp body to his, draping her lazily across his chest and legs, unwilling to be even an inch away from her without touching her.
Her head lolled toward his, her eyes luminous. “No. I just discovered some muscles I didn’t know I had.”
“Maybe we need … what did you call it? Circuit training? Maybe we need to train more often.” The suggestion alone made her shudder with pleasure against him. He grinned and pulled her closer.
She kissed his chin. “Most definitely.” Then she leaned down and pressed her lips to his heart.
Archer felt his eyes burn and there was absolutely no reason for it. Except his heart felt as if it were going to explode and that sweet little kiss she’d just delivered might have been the one to push it over the edge. She gave herself to him so generously, so completely, he wanted to please her as fully in return. “Are you hungry?” he managed.
She tipped her chin onto his chest and looked at him, the most wicked grin on her face. “Ravenous.”
Archer had to laugh.
She smacked his chest, but laughed along with him as she pushed herself upright. “Where are my clothes?”
Archer rolled to his knees just behind her. He reached past her and yanked a silk drape off one of the lounges. “Here, use this.”
“I believe we already have,” she said dryly.
“My, we are the wicked ones, aren’t we?” He pulled another swath of silk off the lounge, then tugged her unwillingly to her feet and wrapped it around her. “I’d as soon keep you nude, but I imagine dinner has long since been delivered to the next room and I have no idea if the guard is within, or without.”
Talia’s cheeks reddened. “You really think they were out there? The whole time?”
Archer laughed again. “What happened to my wicked vixen?”
“I enjoy some things, but I’m not into exhibitionism.”
“You’re into a lot of things you had no idea you were into.”
She tried to look affronted, but failed miserably. “I’m not normally like this.”
He grinned. “Define
normal
.”
She narrowed her gaze, but there was a teasing light in her eyes. “Great. You’ll think of me as some kind of sex fiend forever.”
And right then Archer realized just how deeply he’d placed his heart in jeopardy. One word and he’d known.
Forever
.
Because the idea that someday he wouldn’t be with her was incomprehensible at that moment. How had that happened? Clearing his suddenly tight throat, he tried to cover the nervousness with a laugh. “No teasing,” he said, then winked. “And no worries on those screams, either. I doubt sound travels beyond these walls.”
She tried to smack him again, but he grabbed her hand and impulsively kissed her palm. “I’ll see if we’re clear while you make use of the bathroom. Forgiven?”
She nodded, but instead of the kiss he expected, she nipped his lower lip instead. He pulled back, surprised, but she merely imitated his expression, then strolled to the connecting bathroom door. Allowing the silk sarong he’d fashioned to loosen and slowly slide over her skin to pool on the floor behind her as she left.
“Dinner is already cold, you know,” he warned. “I don’t care if it sits.”
Her response was a laugh as she closed the door between them.
He was on his feet and halfway to the bathroom, thinking a nice joint shower would be just the thing, then stopped when he realized why he was following her. It wasn’t because he felt the need to make love again already. It was because … well, he missed her when she was gone. Silly and ridiculous, since he’d
been having her for hours now and she’d only been gone for a few seconds. But there it was. Staring him in the face.
That and the word
forever
.
He managed to find his trousers and pulled them on, then wandered out to the main room. No one was there, but a huge dinner service had been set up in front of a still-crackling fire. He was pleased to see the dishes were heated, as well. “Thanks, Catriona,” he murmured. “For more than I can say.” He slid open one lid and his stomach contracted on a huge growl. He snagged a sugared carrot and wandered aimlessly about the room while waiting for Talia.
Now that his head was clearer, he wondered at Catriona’s choice of rooms. Had it just been an amusing little joke? Or was it a calculated move? And if so, what did it mean? He’d lost himself quickly to Talia’s needs, so quickly he hadn’t stopped to think that perhaps they hadn’t been alone since entering this chamber. He shifted his attention to the walls, to the shadows and nooks … but of course there would be no obvious surveillance, just as there had been none in the passageways. And yet, he’d felt watched there.
He hadn’t here, but was that because he’d been so wrapped up in Talia that his instincts hadn’t kicked in? He didn’t think so. But the thought that someone might have witnessed such a private act between them infuriated him. Had they made a recording and planned to use it to coerce him to do their bidding?
He was stalking toward the screen entrance when Talia entered the room from the other door wearing a silk robe the color of rubies. It was dazzling against her skin and the contrast with her dark hair robbed him of all thought.
She stopped in the golden doorway. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Nothing at all. You look … amazing. The food is still warm.” He crossed back toward the table. No point in ruining what had been an incredible evening. He definitely didn’t want to alarm Talia. Despite her openness with him, her reaction to the idea that the guards might have overheard so much as a moan indicated how mortified she’d be if she thought someone had actually recorded them.
He realized then the real gift she’d given him this night. Trusting him with a part of herself that she wasn’t even comfortable admitting she had. Except to him. With him she was not only comfortable with her sexuality, she was downright playful with it. Only with him.
And he had another epiphany just then. He realized that he wanted to be the only man sharing that part of her. Which meant …?
“Are you okay? You look … ill.” She hurried over to him and felt his forehead. “You feel okay? Maybe we’d better eat.”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Probably. I’m starving.”
Talia looked at the small black domes. “How do you open these?”
He smiled and tried to shove all his concerns aside. There was nothing to be done tonight except enjoy their meal. And make damn certain they were under the silk covers when they went to bed. He moved his hands over the sensor and one of the tops slid back. He showed Talia how to do it and let her do the others.
“Neat trick.” She leaned down. “It smells incredible. And I even recognize most of it.”
“Food hasn’t changed much, I don’t think.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t take anything for granted.”
Archer caught her eye just then. “Neither do I,” he said, imbuing the words with far more meaning than she could know. “Not anymore.”
She paused then, her smile caught halfway between a grin and one of confusion. He almost wished she’d reach out to him then, connect with him, so she’d know what he was feeling. Then he wouldn’t have to decide whether to speak of this huge thing he felt squeezing his heart. He wouldn’t have to take the risk of saying words he’d sworn since childhood never to say to anyone again. It was one thing to feel it—and that alone was so amazing he still hadn’t fully comprehended it. But sharing it was something else entirely. And despite his feelings right now, he still wasn’t sure he ever could.
He broke eye contact and began serving up their plates. Far too much to think about. Far too much yet to be done.
They were still sampling from the vast array of chafing dishes when Talia innocently rendered his planned retreat totally ineffective with a single volley. “You know a great deal about me. I mean, about my past,” she began. “I hardly know anything about you. I’d like to.”
He stilled, the ladle of gravy poised above his plate. He covered his sudden alarm with a grin. “I’d say you know a great deal about me,” he said,
She smiled, but there was that look in her eye, that determination he’d seen when she worked with a newly arrived orphan. He understood their panic now. Taking that step, handing over that trust, wasn’t easy. He’d handed her a great deal more than he’d even known he had to offer. But this … this was territory he was extremely uncomfortable with.