Jayne Castle [Jayne Ann Krentz] (12 page)

BOOK: Jayne Castle [Jayne Ann Krentz]
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want you."

"Please, Ridge." She knew this building excitement had to have a release, and she was beginning to long

for it as she had never longed for anything in her life.

Ridge said nothing, but bent his head to drop a lingering kiss on her stomach, just above the damp nest

he was teasing with his fingers.

"Please, Ridge, now"

His answering laugh was thick with his own passion. "I think you're right. Even if you could last a little

longer, I couldn't. Part your legs a little more, Kalena. Show me you want me."

She did as he instructed, making a place for him between her thighs. He came down along the length of

her, covering her slowly and completely, resting his weight on his elbows as he looked down at her.

Kalena lifted her lashes to find herself looking into a golden fire in his eyes that was not quenched even by

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the shadows in the room. She wanted to say something in that tension filled moment and could find no

words. Her hands gripped his upper arms.

"Wrap your legs around me, Kalena. I'll take care of everything else."

She obeyed, aware of the heavy shaft poised at her opening. Tentatively, and then more urgently, she

clung to him. She felt infinitely vulnerable, fully aware of her own inability to control what would happen

next. A belated fear that was very primitive and very feminine suddenly coursed through her. Ridge felt it

at once.

"It's all right, Kalena," he soothed. "I told you I would take care of you, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"You must learn to trust the man you're marrying today." His thumbs stroked the line of her cheek,

gentling her until some of the uncertainty receded. Then he reached down between their bodies, fitting

himself to her until she could feel the blunt, hard heaviness of him beginning to stretch her in a way that

she,had never known. He burned at the entrance to her body.

The sensation was exotic, exciting. Kalena forgot the last of her short-lived fear and clutched Ridge

more tightly to her.

"I knew I could set you on fire. The first moment I saw you, I knew. Like holding a match to kindling.

Like making the steel glow." His fingers moved tantalizingly over the small nub of pleasure he had

discovered earlier and Kalena moaned helplessly. "Close your eyes," he whispered deeply, "and follow

me."

She did as he said, squeezing her eyes shut against the tight, thrilling sensations that were overwhelming

her. Then there was a relentless, building pressure between her legs as Ridge pushed himself against her.

In that instant Olara's warnings crowded back into Kalena's mind, shrieking at her, somehow mingling

with the physical shock of Ridge's sensual invasion. Kalena's senses whirled and she cried out, her whole

body tensing.

Ridge halted abruptly while Kalena gasped in response to the friction that threatened to turn into pain.

She made no protest, but her nails bit deeply into his shoulder as if she would brace herself against what

was coming.

"Relax, Kalena."

"I can't—" But she broke off in bewildered astonishment as Ridge bent his head without warning and

took her earlobe between his teeth. He bit down quite sharply.

The totally unexpected assault on her ear brought a small yelp from Kalena, and in that instant Ridge

surged fully into her. Her mind was still responding to the nip on her ear when the small flash of pain

occurred between her legs. She was barely aware of it. When Ridge was buried fully within her he

stopped, his whole frame taut with sexual tension.

Kalena blinked in astonishment as her body adjusted to the reality of the completed invasion. The last of

Olara's warnings faded from her mind. It was too late to heed them now "That," she finally managed to

declare breathlessly, "was very sneaky." "Did I hurt you?"

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"My ear may never recover."

His smile evolved into a short, sexy, savage grin. "It isn't your ear I'm worrying about. How is the rest of

you?"

"I'm not sure," she said honestly.

"Let's find out."

He began to move in her, slowly at first, until she began to respond. When Kalena closed her eyes and

murmured his name Ridge increased the rhythm. He began to breathe in heavy gasps as he pushed

himself to the limits of his self-control. Kalena could feel his muscles tense as he reigned himself in almost

violently. She knew the promise he had made her: tonight was hers. He would not give into the flames

beginning to consume him until she found the excitement he had promised.

The small cries she made were a soft, utterly feminine counterpoint to Ridge's guttural groans. Her

passion was a total surprise to her. Kalena had never expected to feel like this. Ridge was shuddering

with the force of his own response. She would never forget tonight, Kalena realized. No matter how long

she lived or what the future held, she would never forget tonight.

Just as the realization flared in her mind, Kalena felt a new level of tension seize her. She tightened

around Ridge, her whole body beginning to shiver with tiny convulsions of ecstasy. Unaware of what she

was doing, Kalena sank her sharp little teeth into Ridge's strong shoulder as she cried out his name in final

surrender.

Ridge groaned, holding himself back so that he could drink in the sensation of Kalena's satisfaction but

his own pounding need washed over him, overcoming the iron control he had been exerting. A stifled

shout was ripped from him as he surged heavily into Kalena one last time and gave himself up to the

mindless release.

He was fire and she was the only one who could quench the flames and bring him peace. The flashing

thought crystalized for an instant in Kalena's mind and then it was gone.

Long moments passed before Kalena felt Ridge stir in her arms. Languidly, she became aware of the

drying film of perspiration that formed a fine sheen between her breasts. Ridge's chest was damp with

moisture, too.

Ridge smiled slightly as he watched her reorient herself to the shadowed room. He made no attempt to

change his position, continuing to lie along the length of her, although he gently eased himself out of her

body. Kalena was aware of the lingering dampness between her legs and the pungent scent of their

lovemaking. In that moment she couldn't begin to define her emotions, but she was aware of being in the

grip of a strange state of suspension. It was an odd sensation, as if something important that had been in

the back of her mind all along was suddenly trying to free itself and the constraints that had been imposed

on it were weakening rapidly.

"I would keep you here if I could," Ridge said. "But I think I had better take you back to your own

chamber. I won't have the servants gossiping about you." He glanced out the window into the garden.

"Not that much remains of the night." He sat up reluctantly, his hand skimming over the curve of her hip

with remembered pleasure. "You must sleep late this morning. You'll need your rest for our wedding

night. And the following morning we must be up early to start the journey"

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"I can tell you are going to prove to be a harsh husband," Kalena murmured. The truth was, she had no

intention of arguing with him. She wanted to be alone to analyze this strange thing that was hovering at the

edge of her awareness. She needed to understand it before she released whatever it was from its cage.

There was a danger here, one she didn't want to fully acknowledge.

Ridge was laughing softly as he quickly pulled on his shirt and trousers. He emanated masculine

satisfaction. "I think you are already discovering ways to handle me." He gave her the thin trousers she

wore under the tunic and tugged on his boots while she dressed. When she was ready he took her arm

and led her toward the door. Kalena stumbled slightly as she moved away from the pallet. "Are you all

right?" Ridge asked with concern. "Yes, just a little shaky."

Amused, he shook his head as if in commiseration. "Poor Kalena, this has turned out to be quite a night

for you, hasn't it? Your first taste of freedom and your first taste of marriage."

"Every woman knows the two are contradictory" Kalena couldn't resist pointing out.

"True, but I'm hoping that now you won't have too many regrets about giving up the one for the other."

Kalena found his total male self-confidence both amusing and exasperating. She couldn't think of

anything to say as they walked along the colonnade to her room. At the door Ridge took her once more

in his arms, his expression intent.

"I told you earlier that we would make tonight our wedding night. It's done, Kalena. This evening at

sunset we will set the formal seal on our marriage, but as far as you and I are concerned, Quintel's

ceremony and the feast that follows are only trappings. You are in my charge from this moment, and I

swear by the Stones that I will take good care of you. I wish you good night, Kalena."

He kissed her in a manner that was strangely formal, considering what had just happened between them

in his chamber.

"I wish you good night, Ridge."

He waited until she had closed her door behind her. Kalena stood listening for the sound of his footsteps

to fade, then sank down wearily onto the round, cushioned chair by the window

Her body felt strained and a little stiff. A few unfamiliar portions of her anatomy would ache in the

morning, of that she was certain. The thought of spending the day after her wedding in a creet saddle was

enough to make her wince in advance. Thank both ends of the Spectrum she would be spared that, at

least.

But none of those thoughts touched the real reason for her new sense of nervous unease. Deliberately,

Kalena probed her own mind, seeking the source of her strange, disjointed mood. True, she had been

through a great deal that night. Perhaps she was only being plagued by the aftereffects of all the

excitement.

No, it was something else, something infinitely more dangerous. It had begun to break free the moment

she had surrendered to Ridge, and now it was busily clanking its loosened chains in her mind.

With sudden, blinding intuition, she realized that Olara had been right. Kalena knew now she should

never have given herself to Ridge.

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With a soft, despairing cry she hugged herself and tried to shake off the new knowledge that had forced

itself upon her. The emotional confrontation and its ultimate result had ripped the veil from that which had

been hidden in her mind for years. Tonight that self-knowledge had been freed. Kalena found herself

facing the shattering truth: the thought of killing was totally alien to her. She could not do it.

Yet she must.

She did not wish to carry out her duty to her House.Everything within her rebelled against the task. She

did not want to be the agent of revenge and murder. Not now, when she was just beginning to learn

about passion and freedom.

Kalena blinked back the hot tears that were burning her eyes. She had no choice in the matter. Her

destiny had been ordained in the summer of her twelfth year when her House had been destroyed. There

was no turning back; to do so would disgrace herself and her House past redemption.

Slowly, Kalena got up and walked across the room to her pallet, Olara's words still vivid in her mind:

You must not succumb to the embraces of this man you will name husband. Not until after your duty is

done, and by then there will be no need to give yourself to him. Remember, Kalena, that this man you will

be marrying is dangerous in ways you cannot dream. I have seen it in my trance. He is dangerous.

Kalena's last thought before she fell into an exhausted sleep was that her aunt had been right about the

danger awaiting her niece in the arms of the man called the Fire Whip.

FIVE

T

he Polarity Advisor chosen by Quintel to conduct the wedding ceremony was dressed in the traditional

black and white robes of his office. If he found it odd to be asked to officiate at what was, after all,

merely a trade marriage, he was too diplomatic to say so. He could content himself and his curiosity with

the fat fee Trade Baron Quintel was paying.

But a few other details about this wedding bothered the advisor. The bride, for example, appeared

particularly tense. The hood of her wedding cloak was pulled low over her face, partially concealing her

features, but not altogether hiding the strain in her green eyes. In the past the Polarity Advisor had been

asked to officiate at ceremonies in which the bride wasn't always a totally willing party, although forcing

any woman into marriage against her will was technically illegal. The advisor knew enough about reality to

know that great pressure could be brought to bear on a woman when it came to marriage. Still, that

could hardly be the case here, he told himself as he uncurled the lanti skin parchment that contained the

formal words. After all, this was a trade marriage. Supposedly, that implied that not only was the bride

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