Rejar (2 page)

At the time, she was certain she had seen the last of him, which saddened her. Lilac had been so happy to see the animal still in the coach when they returned to it. No matter how her aunt fussed, she had been determined to take the poor beast home.

Lilac had always wanted a cat.

Unfortunately, Auntie had always vehemently refused.

She suspected her poor aunt negated her desire for a cat as a last-gasp effort to prevent her niece from having the trappings of “old maid” hung upon her. After all, she had just turned twenty. An unmarried woman with a penchant for cats often spelled the term “tabby” to the ton—a “no-hope-for-her” old maid.

For some odd reason, today had been different. Today, for the first time in her life, she did not let Auntie have her own way during one of her fits. She had held firm in her desire to keep the cat.

Shrugging her shoulders, she smiled. So, did it really matter how he came to be here? Here the puss was. She turned on the stool to face him.

“You have the most interesting habit of suddenly showing up, cat.” She grinned at him.

The cat, of course, did not reply.

Lilac observed the regal black feline, who was sitting on her chair as if he were upon a throne deigning to command his loyal subject! I guess that would be me, she mused.

He swished his tail.

There was something about this particular cat that struck a chord within her. Probably its sheer bravado. No one with an ounce of intelligence would dare waste their breath trying to tell this cat what to do. It was obvious he would do exactly as he pleased.

Not like unmarried misses who had to bow to the dictates of society and gossipy women!

The recurring dismal subject depressed her anew. Lilac worked her big toe into the thick pile of the Turkish carpet beneath her feet, sighing wistfully.

She didn’t care what her aunt said—what dire prophecies of gloom and doom she claimed would befall her if she stayed on the shelf. She had no intention of ever putting herself on the marriage mart!

And why should she?

As far as she could tell, the woman had nothing to gain and everything to lose. Her property. Her money. Her independence. Her intelligence.

When a woman entered into the blissful state of holy matrimony, she became nothing but chattel. Indeed, men often referred to women as “baggage.”

Well, she had no intention of becoming anyone’s baggage—even if the alternative was becoming a dreaded “Ape Leader,” the charming verbiage used to describe an unmarried woman. So what!

Oh, she knew her aunt meant well by trying to dissuade her from her set course. After all. Auntie Whumples was an Ape Leader herself and was only trying to spare her from the type of censure she had endured for a great part of her life.

But it wouldn’t be the same for Lilac; she knew it wouldn’t. She was a woman of means, her father’s estate having come into her aunt’s keeping until she reached her majority next year. She could spend her days following her own pursuits, not existing as someone else’s property!

Her quest for knowledge and her penchant for reading already had her labeled as something of a bluestocking. Unfortunately, even that dreaded concept—a woman with a brain—was easily overlooked by avid suitors with an eye to her fortune.

Lilac shuddered. It was just not going to happen!

She would be like this cat here. Master of her own fate. Yes, just like the cat.

Impishly, she grinned at him. “We make strange bedfellows, don’t we?”

The cat’s blue eye seemed to wink at her.

Lilac snorted at the silly notion, thinking she was sleepier than she realized. Yawning, she stood up to stretch tired muscles. The glow from the fire backlit her, illuminating her nightgown and silhouetting the curvaceous form beneath.

“I’m really glad you’ve come to stay, kit; I don’t think I shall be half so lonely with you for company. I’ll have to think of an especially good name for you,” she mumbled distractedly as she ambled toward her canopy bed. Throwing back the heavy counterpane, she snuggled beneath the covers.

The Master of His Own Fate watched her with a predatory gleam in his golden eye. Then, at a deliberate pace, he followed her to the bed.

Lilac was just leaning over to turn down the lamp on her bedside table when she felt the mattress dip. “Oh!” She grinned at the cat. “Have you come to sleep with me, then? I’d like that on this damp night.”

She turned down the lamp and burrowed under the covers, smiling contentedly when she felt the reassuring bulk of the animal settle in next to her.

“You and I are going to be great friends,” she whispered in the darkened room. “I can tell.”

The cat nudged his face against her thigh as if in agreement and Lilac drifted off to sleep. ...

* * *

Like silent lightning, a glow shimmered about the bed and was quickly gone.

Leaning on his side, the naked man gazed down at the sleeping woman beneath him.

Silken lengths of gleaming black hair shifted forward off his powerful shoulders in an unconsciously seductive slide.

If Lilac had been awake and looking at the large mirror on her wall, she would have seen a man in her bed so beautiful as to take her breath away. He had an eye of blue and an eye of gold.

Pensively, the man watched her as she slept.

Her skin, he noted, was a mixture of tones: gold, rose, and cream. Inexplicably, he suddenly ached to feel the supple smoothness with his lips and tongue. Thinking he might do just that, he bent closer to her.

A strand of her long hair brushed against his arm.

He examined it curiously. Like her skin tone, it was a tumble of shades: ash, brown, dark blond. He couldn’t decide what to name it, which fascinated him all the more. To a Familiar, nothing was so interesting as that which could not be named.

He continued his visual exploration.

Her large, expressive eyes, closed now, were the deepest, darkest green. They brought to mind the leaves of the mystical Towering Forest on his home world of Aviara. The sensitive comparison made him long to brush his lips across the thick gold-tipped lashes, to feel them flutter against his mouth.

The sweet curve of her small ear was most enticing. ...

His heated gaze drifted across her face.

Ah, those lips! Full and soft, a deep rosy pink reminding him of the sweet inner flesh of—

A low growl of desire rumbled from his throat.

Like most male Familiars, he was susceptible to the female.

In the past, he had never given it much thought, accepting who and what he was; he had simply enjoyed the many pleasures which came his way. Still, he seemed particularly susceptible to this female. Why?

He had seen countless beautiful women before; indeed, he had had them for most of his adult life, but this unusual, delicate beauty beneath him tugged at him in a way he had not experienced in his past.

Moreover, he had sensed it the instant they met.

It was as if there was an essence to her which beguiled him like some intoxicating drug. More potent even than the drugs Oberian slavers used to capture his kind.

He was entranced.

He was hungry.

He was almost powerless to break from the pull of her.

The realization caused a shiver to race down his spine. Could this woman make a slave of him? Ensnare him as surely as any captured beast?

No!

She intrigued him more than most, it was true, but that was all. Admittedly, he had been restless for some time, feeling strange and out of sorts. Even before the incident with the Tunnels, he had gone longer than his usual wont without the pleasure of a woman.

Too long.

It would account for his unprecedented reaction to her.

Convinced he was right, that it was only his prolonged abstinence speaking, he shook off the last remaining vestiges of the unwanted premonition. Yet, helpless to do otherwise, he ran his forefinger gently down the length of her exposed arm, testing the texture of her skin.

It was as he expected. Like the finest krilli cloth under his touch. So tender! He imagined his teeth barely grazing against—

Lilac’s eyelids fluttered but she did not awaken. He withdrew his stroking finger for the time being, his mind made up. Unlike his other past encounters with women, he would relish this particular chase—slowly.

Very slowly.

For the ultimate pleasure, a delicacy must be savored.

It would begin now.

The hunt must start by giving her something of himself.

Deep in his senses, he lay back down next to her, drawing her close to him. “Rejar,” he murmured low in her ear as he twined around her. “I am called Rejar.”

He slept with the scent of her. Dreaming of capture.

* * *

She felt wonderful!

Lilac opened her eyes and languidly stretched beneath the covers. Simply marvelous! She couldn’t remember when she’d had such a peaceful night’s sleep. For some reason, she had been utterly warm and cozy the entire night, even though it had been terribly cold and damp. It was strange, but she had felt protected, cared for in a way completely alien to her.

During the night, she imagined she was enfolded in a cloak of warm, spicy scent, rather like cinnamon and bayberry and something else totally exotic yet altogether enticing.

An image, flashed across her mind.

There was a man.

A dream? When she tried to recall more of the vision, nothing else came to mind, neither who the man was, nor even what he looked like. Now why would she dream about some strange man holding her?

Out of the corner of her eye a flare of movement captured her attention.

Lilac turned over on her side and grinned.

Of course! The cat. She had momentarily forgotten about him.

He must’ve slept beside her all night! No wonder she had felt so cozy. She leaned over to thank the winsome animal for the comfort he had given her throughout the long, raw night.

“Good morning, and how are you this morning?” She scratched behind his left ear.

The big fellow seemed to really like it. Would he want his belly rubbed as well? Perhaps when he got more used to her.

“It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Sun was streaming in through the open windows, falling across the two of them lying on the bed.

The cat purred his agreement, wedging his head against her hand to coax her into more petting. Lilac didn’t even realize she was doing his bidding as she continued to stroke his exquisitely soft fur.

“Let’s see what Emmy brought us this morning.” Taking the tray from the bedside table. Lilac carefully balanced it across her knees.

Every morning for the past ten years, Emmy had been bringing the same thing to her. A pot of tea, a little pitcher of cream, a biscuit, lemon curd, strawberry jam, and a bowl of sliced fruit. But for her new pet’s entertainment she made a great show of examining the contents, holding up each item to his curious gaze.

She suddenly realized he must be very hungry.

Taking the saucer from beneath her teacup, she carefully poured a goodly portion of the cream onto the plate and placed it before him on the mattress.

“That’s for you—but be careful; don’t spill any on the linens. Emmy would have our heads.”

Rejar eyed the plate of liquid warily. He was hungry; it was true. However, he preferred eating in his natural form. Not a possibility at this moment.

Resigned, he began lapping at the rich nourishment, not doing a very neat job of it.

“Oh, my.”

Rejar looked up, cream dripping from his whiskers.

Lilac put a hand to her lips, giggling. “You’re something of a piggy, aren’t you?”

Rejar narrowed his eyes at her.

Unaware of his glowering look. Lilac picked up her cloth napkin. “Would you let me wipe your face?” Very gently, she blotted the cream off, tapping his nose with a linen-covered finger when she was done. “There; you’re quite handsome again.”

The cat swished his tail.

“You may say thank-you.”

Thank-you. Looking slyly up at her, he quickly licked her hand.

“How sweet! You know, I really do need to name you. Let me see...” She tapped her chin. “How about... Rejar?” She pronounced the strange name: ray-jhar.

Lilac blinked. Where on earth had that come from?

The cat purred loudly.

Hmm. He seems to like it. What an odd name to think of... Well, it seems to suit him. “I guess Rejar it is.”

Replacing the tray on the stand, she threw back the covers and walked over to the window overlooking the garden, delighted by what she saw. “Auntie’s lilacs have bloomed! Come look, Rejar!”

As if he understood her, the cat jumped down from the bed, crossed the room, and leapt onto the window seat.

Rejar noted the alternating clusters of purple and white flowers blooming on the large bushes which rimmed the walled-in garden. Lilacs. So, she was named for a flower. Would they smell as sweet as she? He doubted it.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” She sighed.

You are well named, he agreed.

“Let’s spend the entire morning in the garden! You can lie in the sun on your fat belly and I’ll read to you from James Weatherby’s Introduction to a General Stud Book.”

Stud? Adeeann had once referred to him in such a way. Perhaps he would find out what she had meant.

In any case, he would stay close by Lilac until he felt more comfortable with his surroundings, at which point he would begin to explore. Familiars always liked to thoroughly know their territory before venturing forth. Besides, staying in the garden sounded like a good way to—

Fat belly?!

Rejar was incensed. Did the woman not recognize solid muscle when she saw it? he grouched, pacing.

Eager to be outside, Lilac dashed over to her dressing room, completely missing the fact that the hair on the cat’s back was standing straight up in the air as he padded across the floor.

And his ears were down flat.

* * *

Lilac raced down the hallway, book in hand, looking forward to spending time in the garden with her new pet. She sprinted to the stairs. The frisky cat playfully scissored back and forth between her legs.

His frolicsome sport caused her to laugh out loud. What a tricky little imp!