Jayne Castle [Jayne Ann Krentz] (6 page)

were certainly detailed, but Kalena knew she would feel more confident of herself if she checked matters

out firsthand. She had been attempting to discover more about Quintel's evening habits just when Ridge

startled her.

In the red moonlight Ridge's expression was austere, almost cruel. Standing in the shadows, he seemed

very large and intimidating. She was far too conscious of his size and strength—and of something else.

With a shock, Kalena suddenly realized that something in this man compelled her on a deep, primitive

level. The realization frightened her for an instant, because she knew this man was not for her. There

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would doubtless be men in her free future, but she didn't see how Ridge could be among them. He was

tied to Quintel, and when her mission was over, Kalena would start down a new and different path. Her

very safety would depend on her never seeing Ridge again. Quintel would appear to have died of natural

causes, but Kalena wouldn't want to stick around to take chances on anyone getting suspicious. More

importantly, Olara had forbidden her niece to explore the most dangerous of temptations: sexual

freedom. Kalena knew Olara's injunction did not stem from her aunt's notions of proper female behavior,

but from a firm belief that the discovery of her own sensuality would spell disaster for Kalena's mission.

"Never mind," Ridge said, taking firm hold of her arm.

"I'll guide you back to your quarters. I wish to speak to you, anyway."

Kalena glanced at him uneasily. "Of course, Trade Master."

"I think you had better drop the title and start calling me Ridge."

"Very well. As you wish."

He said nothing for a moment, walking in silence while he gathered his thoughts. Kalena waited

anxiously, wondering what he was finding so difficult to discuss.

"Quintel has decided he would like to give us a proper wedding," Ridge finally stated somewhat

aggressively, as if he expected an argument.

Kalena relaxed, relieved that she wasn't about to be interrogated about her activities in the garden.

"That's very generous of him." A large wedding, Kalena thought, just as Olara had predicted.

"Quintel has decided a proper wedding ceremony would be a good way to start our journey," Ridge

continued, his voice still heavy with the weight of authority. "He is not a man to ignore omens and he has

what I suppose you could call a feeling for situations that is sometimes amazing."

"He sounds a good deal like my aunt," Kalena observed tartly. "Does he go into trances, too?"

Ridge muttered something crude under his breath. "Of course not. That's a female thing. No man would

pretend he was capable of going into a Far Seeing trance."

Kalena smiled impishly. "You mean a man would be too embarrassed to admit he had been endowed

with such a female talent?"

Ridge made an obvious bid for patience. "I only meant to imply that my employer has excellent

instincts—trader's instincts. Furthermore, he is nothing short of brilliant. I never argue with him when he

makes a firm decision." Ridge broke off and then added reluctantly,."Or at least I don't argue with him

very much. He's almost always right."

"And because he has decided you and I are to go through this farce of a wedding, you have decided it's

a good idea?" She couldn't resist teasing him when he was so obviously ambivalent about having a

full-scale wedding ceremony.

Ridge hesitated. "He's convinced it will contribute toward the successful completion of this venture," he

finally said very formally.

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"Hmm. Which, translated, means he thinks the High Healers of Variance might be more disposed to deal

with me if I seem more like a real wife to them. He's hoping a proper wedding might make me appear

more truly married, isn't he?"

Ridge halted abruptly and turned to look down at her. His golden eyes gleamed with a reluctant

admiration. "It would seem you have your own fair share of female intuition."

"I prefer to think of it as an ability to reason with masculine logic," she murmured, knowing that the

comment would irritate him. Men did not like to admit that women were capable of great feats of logic.

Logic was considered a masculine talent, a gift that had its origins at the Dark end of the Spectrum. To

her surprise, Ridge did not rise to the bait.

"I won't argue fine points with you this evening, Kalena. The final verdict is that you and I will be going

through a formal ceremony in three day's time. I suppose you had better buy a wedding cloak," he added

vaguely. "Get whatever you need and tell the shopkeepers to send the bill to me. You better purchase a

few things for the trail, too. I'll make a list. While you're at it you can pick up a couple of new shirts for

me."

Kalena raised her eyebrows mockingly. "You are beginning to sound like a husband already."

To her surprise, Ridge took the comment seriously. "Yes, I am, aren't I? Do you feel like a bride,

Kalena?"

"No," she said bluntly. "As far as I am concerned, this is all playacting." And her role in the play would

end when she had completed her duty. "What we have between us is nothing more than a business

arrangement."

Ridge eyed her narrowly, then settled his hands on her shoulders. Kalena felt the weight and strength of

him and drew a deep breath. She saw in his eyes that Ridge had just come to some inner decision. In that

moment she did not know whether to regret he had found her in the garden or be glad. She was not

accustomed to the company of men in general, and never had she stood alone in the moonlight with a

man's hard hands on her shoulders. For an instant she was afraid, and then she reminded herself that

soon she would be starting a whole new life, one that was certain to include men. Surely allowing herself

a small taste of what the future might hold would do no real harm to her mission.

"Perhaps," Ridge drawled, his voice dangerously soft, "Ishould take my duties as a husband-to-be

seriously. If I am going to be made to feel like a husband, Kalena, then I think you should be made to feel

more like a wife."

Kalena stood very still, excitement shafting through her as she realized he was going to kiss her. For an

instant a vision of her aunt's outraged face rose to haunt her. Olara would be horrified. In truth, Kalena

was slightly horrified herself. She had been telling herself for days that someday soon she would learn

what it was like to be held by a man. Indeed, she had been looking forward to it with a nervous

anticipation. But quite suddenly the moment was upon her, and she wasn't as certain as she had been

about what she wanted. It wasn't that she feared the embrace, Kalena realized abruptly; it was that she

wasn't at all sure Ridge was the right man with whom to experiment. So much was at stake.

She stirred belatedly as he lowered his head, but by then it was much too late. His hands tightened on

her shoulders, pulling her closer to his waiting strength, and his mouth was on hers.

Kalena felt curiously suspended in the red moonlight, as if she was no longer completely herself but was

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somehow on the verge of becoming joined with another—her born opposite. The sensation was

disorienting, unlike anything she had experienced before. Very distantly, Olara's warnings rang in her

ears: You must not surrenderto a man'sembrace until you havedone your duty and avenged thehonor of

your House. Such an act would be extremely dangerous for you. But surely Olara had meant the

complete act of making love, Kalena told herself. What harm could there be in a kiss?

Ridge's mouth moved on her lips, slowly, inevitably taking control, and then demanding a response.

Kalena briefly felt his teeth in a tiny nip that took her by surprise. She parted her lips in astonishment.

Before she could utter a protest he was there, inside her mouth, his tongue exploring and tasting her with

a boldness that left her breathless.

Kalena moaned faintly and felt Ridge's hands slip from her shoulders down her spine and to the small of

her back. Her arms went around his neck and she heard him inhale deeply. She had a fleeting impression

that Ridge, too, was feeling unexpectedly disoriented, as if the kiss wasn't turning out quite as he had

anticipated. She could have sworn the large, strong hands that held her had trembled slightly. But almost

immediately he seemed to regain control of both himself and the situation. His palms curved around her

full hips as he urged her forcefully against the hardness of his lower body. She did not sense a calculated

sensual expertise in Ridge's embrace, but rather a determined hunger that seemed to have taken Ridge as

much by surprise as it did her.

Kalena's mind was suddenly spinning with the excitement of sensually clashing opposites. Her gently

curving breasts were crushed against his tautly muscled chest. Ridge spread his booted feet and her soft

thighs were trapped between the hard lines of his legs. She felt his strong, blunt fingers luxuriating in the

lush shape of her buttocks and heard him groan. The heat of his mouth was colliding with the coolness of

her own, bringing alive sensations that she had never experienced.

No wonder the sexual act was considered an example of a perfect union of opposing forces, Kalena

thought. If a mere kiss brought such incredibly sweet devastation to her senses, she could only imagine

what sharing a pallet with Ridge would do to her.

She opened her eyes bemusedly when Ridge finally released her mouth. In the red moon's light she

looked up at him, her lips still parted, her eyes half-veiled behind her lashes. Ridge studied her face for a

long moment, his own expression shadowed and brooding. Then he lifted his hand to touch her hair.

"The color of a sunset," he muttered, twisting his fingers through her thick curls. "The time of day when

light and dark meet and embrace."

Kalena said nothing, aware that she was waiting for something and not sure how to ask for it. Ridge's

finger dropped from her hair to the line of her jaw. He ran his thumb along it with a touch that was all the

more sensual by virtue of its obvious restraint. His

eyes never left hers as he moved his hand lower, slipping it down the column of her throat until his palm

settled on her breast.

Through the fabric of her tunic Kalena was vividly aware of his touch. His palm glided across her nipple

and she felt her own response. An unfamiliar warmth flooded through her body and she knew Ridge was

aware of it because he let his hand trail farther down and slide over the small curve of her stomach until

his palm rested on the focus of the strange, heady heat that was filling her veins.

Kalena continued to stand very still, not daring to move. Their eyes were locked together and she knew

only an outside force could break the contact. From a far corner of her mind, one of Olara's teachings

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emerged to taunt and warn her: When perfectlyopposing points on theSpectrum arebrought into close

proximity, the power they generatecan be devastating. Kalena knew then that for better or worse, the

luck of the Spectrum had ordained that she meet her perfect opposite when she encountered the man

they called the Fire Whip.

And that thought was the jarring interruption Kalena needed to break the dangerous contact. Drawing a

deep breath, she gathered her senses and stepped back a pace, aware that she was trembling. Her arms

fell from around Ridge's neck. He made no move to stop her, merely watching her with an intentness that

was almost alarming.

"I wish you good evening, Ridge." As if pulling free of a delicate but sticky web, she took another step

back. Instinct told her she should run, not walk from Ridge's presence. She turned away.

"Kalena." His voice was strangely harsh, deeper and more husky than usual. "There is one other thing we

should discuss this evening."

She didn't turn around, but she did pause on the rainstone path. "What is that?"

"I am the man you are contracted to marry"

"I'm aware of that."

"Quintel is not for you. Not for any woman, for that matter.

But females are often foolishly fascinated by him. Don't let your curiosity lead you to try anything

reckless or stupid."

If anything was needed to break the passionate spell of the red moonlight, that was it. Kalena's chin lifted

with cool arrogance. Did this Houseless bastard think he could give lectures on behavior to a daughter of

a Great House? Even if she were only the farmer's daughter she pretended to be, he was still out of line.

"Remember that you are merely going to be playing the role of husband, Ridge. Don't let your sense of

duty go to your head."

"The marriage might be contracted for only a short period of time," Ridge said evenly, "but it is very real

while it lasts. Do not forget that, Kalena."

She ignored him, forcing herself to walk sedately along the rainstone path until she reached the shelter of

the portico. There, hidden by the shadows of the graceful colonnade, she picked up the hem of her tunic