Legend of the Sorcerer (17 page)

“You’re driving me insane.” His voice was a hoarse rasp against her throat. He pushed her shorts down over her hips.

“I know.” She yanked at his zipper. “I know.”

“Jordy, we need—” A deep groan abruptly stopped his words when her hand wrapped around him.

“We need this.”

Her single-minded focus made him smile even as his body jerked at her touch. “Yeah. A lot of this.”

He slid back on his desk, heedless of papers and books being pushed all over. She kicked her shorts free and he pulled her easily onto his lap.

He looked into her eyes, wanting to see everything she felt, everything she was. “This is insanity,” he whispered.

She nodded, and pushed herself down on him.

He saw her eyes widen, her mouth open, her head fall back. Then she began to move and his world went dark. His mouth was on her, her hands were all over him. And they moved, the rhythm grinding, demanding, fulfilling. It was a kaleidoscope of touching, tasting, and just plain feeling.

Her head jerked forward just as she tightened on him. Their eyes met.

“Come to me.” With one hand, he pulled her mouth to his, coaxing her over the edge by pushing his tongue into her mouth with the same rhythm she rode him.

She leaned into the kiss, pushing him deeper inside. He swallowed her scream when she came. He took every sweet
pulsation, held her tightly as she rocked, then closed his eyes, pulled her hips down, and let himself explode.

He opened his eyes at the same moment she did.

“Wow,” they gasped in unison.

Jordy stared down into his eyes. “I can’t believe we just did … what we just did.”

She went to move off of him, but he wrapped a tight arm around her back, holding her to him. “Good can’t believe? Or bad can’t believe?”

“You can ask that with a straight face?”

“Well, I can honestly say this isn’t a regular part of my daily routine.”

“I make a habit of jumping men in their offices all the time,” she said dryly. The reality was she’d just done exactly that. “God.”

He leaned up and caught a kiss from her before she could cover her face with her hand. “It’s a little late to be embarrassed now.” He sat up, holding her on his lap.

“Cai, anyone could have walked right in. It’s one thing for Alfred to catch us necking, but this … Jesus, I didn’t even stop to think about that. I didn’t stop to think about anything. I’m not, this isn’t—”

He stopped her with a hard, fast kiss. “I’m not either. I’ve never gotten carried away. Not like this. Not ever. And I didn’t stop to think either. About a couple of things.” He cupped her face. “For that, I’m sorry. I’m healthy, no ugly surprises there, but I’ve always taken responsibility for protection, always, but with you …”

She touched his face. “And I’m healthy, too. We’re—I’m protected. I’ve been taking the pill forever, it takes care of some other problems.”

He blew out a breath. “Thank God.”

Jordy agreed with him. So why was there this little pang down deep inside her? With everything else that had been going on, the status of her biological clock was way down
on her list of things to worry about. Now, suddenly, it moved up a few notches.

“What are you thinking about?”

She smiled at him. “I’m thinking, ‘How am I going to get off his lap and get dressed without being mortified by what I just did?’ ”

He smiled in return. “Like this.” He slid her off his lap, then reached down and snagged their clothes. He handed hers to her. “We’ll do it at the same time and be mortified together.”

It shouldn’t have been so easy … so natural. But it was. He brushed her hands aside and buttoned up her shirt, then held her gaze for a long moment.

“I don’t want you to think that, because we … because of this … that I automatically expect this to happen again.”

Insulted, she said, “You don’t?”

“I’m not saying this right. I meant there’s no pressure on you to have to do anything, with me, whenever.”

“Oh. No pressure.” She felt an ease with him that surprised her. She trailed her hand along his shoulder and up the back of his neck. He shuddered and his eyes went dark. She smiled. “No pressure at all.”

“Exactly,” he managed, swallowing hard when she moved against him. “No pressure.”

A sudden rapping at the door made them leap apart like guilty school children.

“I’m looking for our Jordalyn. Are you keeping her prisoner in there, young Malacai?”

Cai groaned.

Jordy stood straighter and moved over to the window as Cai opened the door. She was sure she had “hot sex” written all over her face.

Alfred was leaning heavily on his cane. Embarrassment forgotten, she immediately went to his side. She hooked
her arm through Alfred’s, gently taking some of his weight. She let him guide her to the set of chairs, and gracefully accepted the first one, knowing he wouldn’t sit until she did.

“I’ve been out to the cottage, Alfred. It’s amazing.” Maybe if she chattered enough, he wouldn’t detect the remnants of sexual tension that were still screaming around the room. “You must have had a crew of fairies and gnomes working all night to get that much done since yesterday.”

“Nonsense, my dear.” His vivid blue eyes twinkled. “Gnomes don’t work at night.”

Jordy laughed and began to relax.

Cai stepped in. “Why don’t we go down and check out the progress. Jordy said she still needed a few things.”

She shot him a dark look.

“Then you got Dilys’ message,” Alfred said approvingly.

“I explained to Dilys that I was taking care of getting my supplies. I’ve already accepted too much of your hospitality, and no matter how much you protest, I am paying you some form of rent or room and board.”

Alfred waved his cane, then stamped it authoritatively on the floor. “Nonsense. If you must, think of me as your benefactor. It is my choice to play the philanthropist. Who are you to tell me I can’t spend my well-earned money to nurture the art of a young, talented woman?”

Jordy sighed and looked at Cai. “How do I get around this?”

Cai smiled. “You know, I think I’m going to like having you here.” He shifted so his grin encompassed them both. “Two against one might even the odds a little.”

Alfred sniffed and stood. “If you think to intimidate me, he who has withstood the whims of kings, you are sadly misinformed, young whelp.”

“Well, this whelp has held his own fairly well for all his thirty-four years,” Cai answered.

Alfred grunted, then turned a beatific smile on her and held out his arm. “Shall we, my dear?”

Jordy slid her arm through his. Cai moved to step in behind them, then his gaze fell on his desk. Jordy saw a flash of something almost … visceral in his eyes and followed his gaze to his desk. It was a mess and she felt the embarrassment climb again, but it wasn’t the signs of their frantic lovemaking that had put that look on his face.

It had to be the statue. Or more specifically, what had been inside. He’d probably been doing research on the symbol all morning. She felt a moment of shame, for the pleasure she and Cai just shared, while those women suffered.

“I forgot,” he said, distractedly. “There is something I’ve got to attend to. I’ll meet you at the cottage in a little while. Or at supper.”

“Let me stay and help you,” she said, but he shook his head and sent a quick glance to Alfred. She understood what he meant, even if she didn’t like being shut out.

“Fine,” Alfred said as he moved into the hall. “Oh, and you might want to turn your shirt right side out before you see Dilys. You know how particular the woman is about clothing.”

Cai was dumbstruck and Jordy didn’t know whether to laugh or start digging a hole to crawl into.

Alfred winked at her. “Come, my dear. I have some other ideas I want to share with you.” She didn’t dare look at Cai as she followed Alfred from the room.

Cai winced when he looked down and saw the seams of his polo shirt staring back at him. Well, the jig was up now for sure. Cai knew he was going to have a hard time explaining to Alfred that his relationship with Jordy wasn’t permanent.

Permanent. He’d never used that word in conjunction with a woman before, and why did it sound so good when he thought about Jordy?

All in all, he’d rather deal with Alfred than what lay on his desk. His desk. Visions of what he’d been doing on it minutes ago had him shaking his head. “Yeah, Mr. Smooth. That’s you, L’Baan.” On his desk. Christ, what had he been thinking? Well, he knew what he’d been thinking with. But even if the venue hadn’t been perfect, if he could turn back time to when she walked in that door, he couldn’t say he’d change one thing. In fact, if he had his way, he’d steal her away from Alfred, shove away everything else, and tuck her in his bed for the next two days. Or three. Maybe a week would do it. She was here for six of them.

He purposely turned to the paper lying on his desk. The harsh reality of what was happening a world away struck him hard. There had to be a way to end this nightmare.

C
ai found her in the cottage. It had only been a couple hours since they’d eaten breakfast together, but it seemed like an eternity. He’d made love to her for the first time yesterday afternoon. That, too, seemed an eternity ago.

She and Alfred had stayed up late, enthusiastically reviewing details for the final cottage renovations. He had spent the evening in his office, waiting for replies on his e-mail queries and trying to get some writing done.

It had been an impossible task. When he looked at the screen he saw only her face. She was staying. There was no need to rush things. He’d told himself that a hundred times. Yet his hunger for her was already an outrageous thing.

Her sunny smiles and pensive frowns had made an indelible imprint on his mind. She had a smart mouth, so at odds with the shadows of vulnerability that flitted behind those green eyes of hers. She entranced him.

What would it be like if she were within his reach, all of the time? That thought had kept him aroused and completely crazy the entire night.

They’d slept apart. Or maybe she’d slept. He’d lain
awake all night, talking himself out of going to her, wishing like hell she’d come to him.

It was the last night he intended to spend that way.

He stood in the open doorway unnoticed. She was measuring the corner walls, stopping to scribble down numbers, measuring the floor, then scribbling again.

He could already see her here, sitting on a stool in front of the rear window, the sun shining on her hair, and the gardens laid out behind her. This was only her second day living under his roof, and already he couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t.

He wanted to watch her create, to know that part of her. That she’d found her spark here, in the place he called home, filled him with a sensation he couldn’t describe.

“If you’re done staring at me, you can come hold the end of this,” she said without raising her eyes.

Cai took the end of the tape measure and held it to the spot on the wall she pointed to. “What are you measuring for?”

“Shelves. I need a place to dry my pieces before firing them.”

“I can picture you working here, in front of the window.”

She looked up at him. “I was thinking of setting up in the center of the room. I like space. I need to move around my work in progress. Three dimensions taken into consideration at all times. It comes alive for me faster that way.”

“Yes,” he said almost absently, totally taken with simply watching the excited sparkle leap about in her eyes. “Did I remember to tell you how stunningly beautiful you are?”

Her smile was cocky. “Why, I don’t believe you did.”

He dropped the tape and pulled her to her feet. “You are stunningly beautiful.” She came so easily into his arms, as if they had been sculpted together that way.

“Cai, we really shouldn’t—”

“Waste time.” He dipped his head. “I totally agree.” She only resisted his kiss for a nanosecond, and then she opened her mouth under his.

“We’re never going to be able to work if we can’t keep our hands off each other.”

“Work?”

“We’re going to have to set some guidelines.”

“Like off-limits time? I’m banned from the cottage for certain hours?” He was grinning, but she wasn’t.

“That’s just it. I don’t work under set hours. I might leave a piece alone all day, then work all night. Or I might work for a few hours, then let it sit for days until I decide where I want to go with it. I do preliminary work on other pieces then, or the post-firing work. Glazing or bronzing, applying patina.” She rolled her eyes. “Which is why I ended up in court, because my business had fallen apart around me and I was too busy in my own little world to notice.” She moved out of his arms. “I want it to be different this time. I will learn to manage my own business, but I’m not exactly sure how to do the rest of the ‘getting a life’ thing. I work when I work, and when I work, I’m totally involved. I don’t think I can change that part.”

She was serious, worried, but he heard the spark of excitement beneath her words. She couldn’t wait to get back to it, to let it consume her. He, of all people, understood that.