Dark Warriors: A Dark Lands Anthology (Darklands) (14 page)

“Tell me about your mother. What was she like?”

Surprised at his opening question, she answered easily enough. “She was quiet. Loved to sing and cook. She made the best lasagna…I could never eat enough.” Slowly, he drew her out, asking what her childhood was like, how she’d liked school, what her favorite things were. After a while she turned the questions around, probing into his past.

He made light of it. “I had my father and brothers. We played sports when they were home and exchanged war stories. I was happy enough.”

She ran a finger over the polished wood of his table. “But your life wasn’t perfect, for all you became king.”

Dagon propped his head on his fist. “No one’s life is perfect. I’m hopeful of the future, however.” Left unspoken was his expectation that she would be in it.

“Are you in love, Dagon?” A risky question, but one she needed an answer to.

“You’ll notice there’s a shortage of women around here. I haven’t much practice with the emotion,” he said mildly. “If you’re asking if I’ll be faithful, the answer is yes. You’ll not be mistreated and I will provide for you, as you have seen. I may not always grant your desires, but I will consider your wishes before making decisions that affect us both. Is that not fair?”

It was very fair…if they were talking about a business deal. “I think you know what I’m looking for,” she said slowly, searching his expression for a clue to his thoughts.

Determination glowed in his eyes as he rose and joined her on her side of the table. Dropping down to the cushions, he considered her lips. “I can promise passion, if that’s a concern.” He took her lips leisurely, like one familiar with the terrain and sure of his welcome. A slow burn spread through their veins, fanned at his command. “My desire will never die.”

She inched back, trying to breathe. “All desire dies if it is not fed with tenderness. I could have had raw passion before if that’s all I needed.”

“So could I. Your sister Earth girls are easy with their bodies. It was offered. I declined. I told you once that I desired only one woman, one who wanted only me.” He stroked her throat with the backs of his fingers and lowered his head. “Be that woman.” Claiming her mouth, he kissed her until her wits had flown and her will melted. How could she resist such a tender invitation? Such a hot demand….

Trying one more time, she pushed him back, managing to clear barely three inches of space between them. “I want love first.”

Closing his eyes like a man in pain, Dagon flopped down on his back. “Impossible wench.” He waved an imperious hand in clear dismissal.

Vana couldn’t help but grin, though she was smart enough not to let him see it. She stood up. “If it helps, I’m halfway there already,” she said, in charity with her adversary.

His hand shot out and gripped her ankle. Half indignant, half desperate, he demanded, “Then why are we having this conversation?”

“Because you’re not…halfway there, that is.” She shook him off and left, his heartfelt groan sounding behind her.

Closing his eyes, Dagon lay back and tried to clear his sluggish head. Desire made it difficult to think, and frustration wasn’t helping. Did he love her? Who knew? He definitely wanted her, if that counted for anything. Apparently it didn’t, in her book. So how could he convince her that he cared? It galled him, but he needed a woman’s advice. His mother was out, but whom else did he know?

A thought made his eyes spark, and he rose up with sudden purpose. Perhaps Ser’s wife would have the answer.

Ser answered the door looking mussed and sleepy eyed. Since it was still early in the evening, Dagon had a good suspicion why.

He didn’t waste any time. Tight lipped, he demanded of Ser, “How do you make a woman fall in love with you?”

Blinking in confusion, Ser stepped back as Dagon entered his room. “Er, come again?”

“Who is it, Ser?” a husky voice came from the bedroom. Jen appeared, wearing her wedding robe and looking decidedly mussed.

Uncomfortably reminded of what he’d like to be doing, Dagon asked her gruffly, “How did you know Ser loved you?”

Bewilderment creased her brow as she looked helplessly at Ser. With a sigh, he closed the door and joined his wife, wrapping an arm around her as they sat on the couch. “He’s having woman trouble, my love.”

“Oh. I like Vana,” Jen said mildly.

Irked at the way Ser was toying with Jen’s hair, Dagon took a seat, saying impatiently, “Yes, we all like her. But how do I make her my wife?”

Though he’d been busy going about his husbandly duties and therefore out of the information loop, Ser had a good idea of what he was talking about. “Chase her around. Spend time with her.”

“I have duties,” Dagon reminded him. “I can’t spend every hour of the day with her.” He looked at Jen, snuggled by his best friend’s side. “Why did you marry Ser?”

Delicate pink stained her fair cheeks. “I loved him, Tzar. He made me feel special.”

“How?”

She looked softly at Ser, who kissed her hair. “He spent time with me, made me feel good. I knew he would take care of me.”

“She knows I would protect her,” Dagon countered, mulling over the rest of Jen’s words.

“It takes more than that,” Jen insisted. “She needs to feel that you will only do those things for her. She doesn’t want to be qualified to be your wife.” She frowned at Ser as if reliving an old discussion. “She wants to be special, as if you’d choose her over the most beautiful women in the world.”

Dagon raised a brow. “I have.”

She huffed in exasperation. “Tzar…”

He raised a hand. “I understand. I can make her feel specially chosen. Thank you for your time. I’ll leave you to your…rest.”

Jen blinked as the door closed behind him. “Is he always this abrupt?”

Leering, Ser leaned forward and nuzzled her neck. “I think he’s uncomfortable knowing that I’m getting what he isn’t.”

“Ser!” her protest ended on a giggle, then a breathless moan. “Do you think he’ll win her?”

A sexy laugh answered her as he laid her back against the couch. “He will if he makes her feel like this…”

“The work day is over,” Dagon said as he entered Vana’s lab. “Save your programs: I have dinner waiting.”

Vana wasn’t surprised. He’d sent lunch, too, along with the gift of a silver basin on an ornate wrought metal base. Enameled flowers decorated it and the silver pitcher that fit inside. It was lovely, if an odd gift. “Thank you for the present.”

To her surprise, he winked. “I’ll have it brought along so you can decide where to put it.” Guiding her with a light hand at the small of her back, he led her through the hallways and to a central courtyard she’d never seen. In the twilight, flower-shaped lamps on poles spouted flame, illuminating the fragrant hedges and fruit trees. A night bird sang softly in the trees, accompanying the tinkling fountain in front of a table for two. Diamonds of flame dotted the velvet-black sky, lending atmosphere to the warm evening. A divan had been set up to one side, inviting an after-diner nap before a tulip shaped firebox.

“Do you like it?”

Breathless, Vana smiled at him. “It’s beautiful! I love it.”

Pleasure lit his smile. “It’s yours. This will be your private sanctuary from now on.” He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I’m pleased you like it.”

“You’re giving me a garden?” How novel, and incredibly touching that he’d gone through all the trouble. Maybe there was a soft spot in him after all. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“That was all I hoped for,” he said smoothly, leading her to the table. He pulled out her chair and took his seat as a servant poured drinks and another set a tray of spiced meat aflame. Vana laughed in delight and gladly accepted a serving of the still sizzling dish.

“Oh, this is good. I think you’re trying to make me tipsy,” she commented, trying a sip of the alcoholic slushy. “Is the fruit salad spiked, too?”

Dagon laughed. “There are more efficient ways to intoxicate you, if that’s what I wished.” He looked meaningfully at her lips.

She wagged a finger at him. “That would be cheating.”

“This is one realm where I write my own rules,” he countered, offering her a bite of nut-crusted seafood. When her eyes widened in surprised delight, he said, “It’s made from the same nut that makes adoc. I thought you’d like it.”

“You thought right. Thank you.”

He regarded her thoughtfully. “Do you remember your words regarding judging women by a trial of peers?”

“Yes. Somebody needs to. You can’t let them just get away with murder.”

“I thought you’d feel that way. That’s why I’ve appointed a new women’s justice: you.”

“What!”

“Who is better qualified? You’re well educated, compassionate and levelheaded. It’s a position well suited to a future Tzara.”

His theory had so many holes in it that she hardly knew where to start. “I’m not your Tzara!”

“You will be.” Implacable purpose gave his tone steel. It was clear what future he’d decided on.

Unnerved, she chose not to rock that boat further. “I haven’t been to law school.”

“I will gladly teach you our laws. It will be…quality time, don’t you think?” His eyes twinkled.

Oh, that sounded like fun. Hurrah, hurrah. “I might be the most terrible judge there ever was. I’m not willing to risk it.”

“I’m Tzar. I can always replace you. Besides, my council and I will serve as your advisers. I’m not turning you loose completely uncensored.”

Effectively hamstrung, she slumped in her chair. “I was really quite happy with my research.”

Dagon toasted her with his drink. “Welcome to leadership.”

In spite of her annoyance, he coaxed her onto the couch to watch the stars, pointing out the unfamiliar constellations and planets. He told her the name of the night bird and fetched a fragrant flower for her hair. The servants had long since left, taking the dinner trays with them.

Dagon traced her cheek with the flower. “You are the last woman I will ever lie in this garden with.”

It was so poignant, so achingly final, that her heart ticked in alarm. “What do you mean? Are you sick?”

“I don’t want to lie with another woman, in my garden or anywhere else,” he whispered against her lips. His lashes brushed her cheek. “Be mine, adajah mene.” He kissed her softly. “Be mine.”

Either it was the night bird, or the stars, or the slumbering fire in his kiss, but she wanted him. Every one of Kelsa’s words flew out of her head at the feel of his hand running down her arm, twining with her fingers. Unexpected joy ignited her desire, made her kiss him back with eager passion. Needing no more encouragement, he half-covered her with his body and drove her on, murmuring enticements in her ear.

It was more than she could bear. “Dagon! Oh, yes.”

“Give yourself to me,” he whispered. His touch moved inside her loose shirt and closed about her breast, making her arch with ecstasy. “Offer me your body.”

“Yes.” She no longer knew what she was saying, but if it kept him doing what he was doing, she was all for it.

“Good.” As suddenly as he’d started, he withdrew, leaving her burning.

She gaped at him. Not again! “What do you think you’re doing? Finish this!”

He looked at her, breathing hard. “I will not. Not until we’re wed.” He looked longingly down her body. “I won’t take your innocence tonight.”

Sputtering with indignation, she said, “Fine! But come back here and do something! You can’t leave me hanging like this.” The tension hurt.

When he just stood there, looking unsure, she realized that he didn’t understand what she meant. She wanted to slap her forehead when she realized he’d never had a woman to practice foreplay on. Apparently her lover was an arsonist, not a fireman.

Time to change that. Vana grabbed his hand and pulled him down to the couch.

“I can’t touch you and not finish this,” he began, trying to soothe her.

It was embarrassing, but it looked as if she had to educate him. Virgin she might be, but she’d grown up in the USA. Between books, magazines and television, it was impossible to be completely innocent in that culture. She quickly kissed him quiet. “With your hand,” she said meaningfully, guiding his hand to the juncture of her legs.

He cocked his head and caressed her experimentally through the fabric of her harem pants.

Vana moaned. Then she reached for him, and Tzar Dagon learned a whole new groove. Clothes were shed in a heated rush as he quickly learned what pleased her. She tried to return the favor, but he brushed her hands away, too intent on his own exploration to let her distract him. When he parted her raised knees and simply looked, Vana closed her eyes and trembled, unable to bear the erotic sight. But since he was looking, she whispered a suggestion that had him sucking in a breath.

“Do they?” Watching her intently, he gently touched her core, then brought the damp fingers to his mouth and tasted.

Moaning at the sight, Vana shut her eyes and quivered as his lips started at her knee and went on a journey that culminated in a flashover of pleasure. She twisted and squirmed, fighting to get away, fighting to ride the fire. And when he moaned against her center…the man was a born lover.