The Charmer (21 page)

She looked like a queen.

Jasmine frowned and dismissed the disturbing
image. This was her friend, always her friend, and no
disconcerting, newly discovered rank was going to come between
them. Her voice gruff, she said, “Well, I guess after the way you
reacted, Keilor should consider himself lucky I haven’t been
chasing him around with a wooden stake and a mallet.”

Rihlia shook her head at her. “It’s a silver
bullet for werewolves, at least in the movies.” Jasmine waved that
away negligently, and Rihlia stood up. “I guess I’d better take
off. Keilor’s going to be here soon. I expect a full report in the
morning.” She waggled her brows.

Jasmine threw a pillow at her.

Keilor gazed down at Jasmine’s small form
curled on the couch. It seemed the events of the day had worn her
out. Another man might have been offended, and he was a touch
disconcerted that he hadn’t found her flushed and nervously
awaiting his arrival. After this afternoon…

“Jasmine,” he called softly, not wishing to
startle her.

She moaned something incoherent and snuggled
deeper into the cushions, seeking warmth.

He grinned. It seemed his woman did not like
leaving her dreams. Feeling mischievous, he said loudly, “After you
swooned so prettily for me earlier today, I had hoped for a more
enthusiastic reception.”

That did the trick. She blinked and gave him
a grumpy glare. “I didn’t swoon. It was a head rush. How many times
do I have to say it?” She stretched with unconscious seduction, and
whatever he’d been about to say evaporated from his mind. She was
so beautiful.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to
fall asleep on you. If you can hang on five minutes, I can change
and—”

He cut her off with a light, tender kiss, a
touch of his lips only against her parted lips. When he withdrew,
she blinked at him in surprise. There were advantages to catching
her befuddled from sleep, he decided. “Come as you are. I wished to
take a walk through the gardens, if you’re willing.”

He left her side for a moment, searching,
then returned with a pair of black, woven leather sandals. When he
knelt to slip them on her feet, she stared at him in
bewilderment.

“What are you doing?” She sounded
almost...frightened.

He slipped the other shoe on and fastened a
light silver chain around her ankle. Jasmine tilted her foot to get
a better look at it. The light glinted off the alternating silver
links and flashing opal stones. She looked at him for an
explanation, something vulnerable in her eyes, and he had the
feeling that gifts had been few and far between in her life.

That would change. “I suspected if I wished
for you to wear something silver, I’d have to dress you in it
myself.” His allowed his eyes to smoke, just a little. “Unless
there’s something else you’d rather wear for me?”

Jasmine coughed and stood up fast, dusting
her hands busily on her pants. “It’s very pretty, thank you. Uh,
let me just comb my hair.” Avoiding his eyes, she hurried to the
armoire and took out a brush, sweeping it through her hair before
putting it up in a fast twist. She paused in the act of fastening
the clip, her eyes flashing to his reflection. “I’m not really good
with hair styles, but—”

He smiled. “You can wear it down for me at
dinner.”

Jasmine lowered her eyes and rubbed the sole
of one sandal into the floor.

Ah, now this was the reaction he’d been
hoping for, he thought with satisfaction. Lust seemed to be
commonplace for her, but proper courtship appeared to be among the
unknown for the lady, turning her into an inexperienced girl, out
of her depth.

He rather liked the thought of teaching her
to swim.

He could have raised her hand to his lips,
but didn’t. Instead he took it in his own and walked with her to
the door. Her small hand trembled lightly in his.

Obviously, he’d chosen well.

This wasn’t at all what she’d expected.

The hedge enclosed gardens smelled heavenly.
Beautiful, exotic white birds with red, blue and green crests
chattered in the trees, filling the air with their music. Every
once and a while they would pass an exceptionally nice smelling
flower or herb along the stone paths, and Keilor would stop and
tell her its name and perhaps a little about it. Once he’d even
picked a small spray of blossoms and tucked them in her hair.

Jasmine couldn’t figure out what he was up
to. She’d never seen him so gentle, so considerate of her needs and
wishes. This morning she’d expected to be the one who’d entertain
the winner, and when he’d woken her from her sleep she’d felt
guilty for not being ready for him. Now he was the one going out of
his way to make their time pleasurable. It confused her, and left
her feeling vulnerable and so feminine and...soft.

For a woman who’d had to be strong from
infancy just to survive emotionally, the sensation left her off
balance, and she found herself looking hesitantly to Keilor for
guidance.

He seemed to like it.

“We brought what we could of the familiar
with us,” he explained, unaware of her distraction. “Books and
seeds, especially. Good fortune was with us, and we found mild
winters here. What could not be grown outdoors thrived under
glass.” He nodded towards the enormous green houses they
approached. “All of our children are taught something of
horticulture in school. The knowledge of agriculture is a powerful
thing, and our people are well fed as a result of it.” He held the
door open for her.

This was no utilitarian space. Everything was
orderly, but the tropical plants didn’t stretch in long, boring
rows. Instead they were arranged much like plots, with attention
paid to both attractiveness and maximum productivity. Jasmine was
enchanted. Many of these plants she’d never seen before.

“What is this?” she asked, gingerly touching
a coconut sized, hairy brown fruit. It hung from a tangle of stems
connected to a trunk. She tapped it experimentally and found the
rind to be as hard as a nut.

Keilor laughed. “It’s a cannonball tree,
though it’s been bred to remove the stench and improve the flavor.
The plant it descended from smells much like sewer sludge. “When I
was a boy I decided to cultivate one for an academic project.
Somehow, the plant I grew reverted back to its original form.
Imagine my surprise when the lovely scented blossoms produced fruit
edible only for a stag,” Jasmine chuckled, and he added impishly,
“They made very useful stink bombs, though. It took weeks to get
the smell out of our rival cadet’s barracks.”

She smirked. “Making friends and influencing
people even then, huh?”

He gave her a sidelong glance but didn’t take
the bait. Instead, he gestured to another plant, an interesting
specimen with long pods growing directly from the trunk. “The cacao
tree. The chocolate you love so much grows in these pods.”

“Really?” She looked at the tree with
interest. Forget the kale and the turnips

someone had been thinking when they brought seeds for
this thing along. Excited, she turned a little too quickly to ask
him a question and lost her balance. When she grabbed onto his arm
to steady herself, he hissed. Fearing she’d hurt him, she quickly
let go, then frowned. She’d felt a bandage under the long sleeve of
his shirt. She touched the midnight silk carefully. There was
definitely a bandage under there. “You hurt yourself.”

He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“But—”

“A medic looked at it. You don’t have to
worry, it will be fine.” When the worried expression didn’t leave
her face, he teased, “Would you like to see for yourself?”

For a moment she looked as if she would say
yes. Instead she looked down and thrust her hands into her pockets,
nudging the crushed shell of the pathway with the toe of one
sandal. “I guess the tournament was a bad idea.”

He raised her chin and looked into her
troubled eyes. “The tournament was a very good idea. I enjoyed it.
So did everyone else.” When that didn’t help, he added playfully,
“Besides, if you hadn’t seen me today, I wouldn’t have had the
chance to see you fall at my feet. Think how my ego might have
suffered.”

She snorted and turned away, but he could
tell she was trying to hide a smile.

Dinner was fun. When he brought her back to
her room a short while later, they found the table had been
prepared with the ingredients for a Chinese hot pot. A steaming wok
on a stand with a small flaming lamp underneath graced the center
of the table. A platter of raw meats and seafood sat at one side, a
matching one of sliced vegetables on the other.

Crystal condiment servers and a covered glass
stand containing sweet confections had been placed on one end of
the lace tablecloth. Candles had been lit, casting a romantic glow.
Jasmine asked Keilor to light them while she changed into a simple,
yet elegant, white tunic with loose harem pants. The sleeveless
silk top reached almost to her knees, but the split bottom seams
made it very comfortable to move in. Even with a chemise underneath
it and a wide silver sash hugging her waist it was so weightless
she almost felt naked.

Keilor’s heart almost stopped when he saw
her. The thin silk, though opaque, molded to her body in a way that
made him very glad that it was he and not another man who was with
her tonight. She wore her hair down, and it was all he could do not
to drop what he was doing and forget about dinner.

There was something very intimate about
saying the blessing with just the two of them. At first he placed
his hands, as was customary, on her shoulders, but he couldn’t
resist allowing them to slide down her soft skin. He was so close;
he felt her lungs expand to take in a silent, deep drought of air.
When he laced his fingers with hers and wrapped his arms around
her, she shivered. It was very difficult to let her go after the
blessing was done.

“Can I look at your sword?” Jasmine asked
after they’d finished their dessert.

He unsheathed it and handed it to her. “Be
careful,” he cautioned as she moved towards the couch to study it
in comfort. He followed and sat beside her.

“How does it work?” she asked, turning the
long knife this way and that, looking for a way to activate it. He
took it away from her and slid his thumb against the guard.
Instantly a blade of blue energy appeared, eclipsing the razor
edged steel. She didn’t try to take it back, just looked it over
carefully, catching his eye and nodding when she was done. The blue
hummed back into the blade, and he gave it back to her.

“The energy source is inside the haft. I
release the beam when I slide the catch.”

She looked it over a little longer and gave
it back to him to be sheathed.

She settled back against the pillows plumped
against the arms of the couch and bent her knees, bringing her bare
feet up on the cushions. For a moment, she watched him. “I know why
Rihlia didn’t tell me about the Haunt. Why haven’t you?”

Chapter 18

When he frowned, uncertain what she was
asking, she elaborated, “You shape shift.”

“Ah.” This was definitely a subject to be
approached with caution. He didn’t want to foster any more distrust
than she must already be feeling. “If you had known in the
beginning, what would you have done?”

She snorted. “Run screaming for the
woods?”

He rolled his eyes. “And at what point after
that would I have known it was safe to tell you? Your people used
to burn mine at the stake, Jasmine,” he told her, very serious. “I
was not eager to see you hate us.”

There was nothing she could say to that.

He searched her face. “And now that you know
what I am, do you fear me?” Every muscle in his body tensed,
waiting for her answer.

She kept her eyes on her knees. “Are you
willing to be patient with me? It’s the same with Rihlia. I know
better than to fear the woman, but I don’t know the Haunt.”

He slid over her, careful not to let his
weight crush her. “You know this Haunt.” He let his lips slide
across her parted mouth, once, twice. “He burns for you,” he
whispered, and slowly withdrew. Exercising great restraint, he took
a deep breath and placed her feet in his lap. They needed to talk,
and he needed some kind of contact. “You know I can’t give you
children.”

Jasmine swallowed hard. “If I had met you
when I was forty-five, we might not have had kids, either.”

“You are not forty.”

“I might not be able to have kids anyway, for
all we know,” she reasoned, biting the inside of her lip.

“That’s not likely,” he answered with grim
logic. Delusions would not serve them. “I would like children, but
I am not adverse to adopting them. I need to know how you feel.” So
much depended on this, and he was not willing to let it wait for
another day.

She closed her eyes, was silent for a long
moment. “It depends. I can do it, but….” she took a ragged breath.
“It’s painful.” They were silent for a moment. “I know this sort of
thing needs to be discussed, but isn’t it just a little premature?”
She tried to smile. “This is only a first date, after all.”

Keilor slid back down next to her. “That
depends,” he answered, stroking her face with a gentle touch.
“

on whether you’re ready for this.” His
kiss was light but full of passion and power. It did not take long
before her hands slid into his hair, asking for more.

It cost him much not to give it to her.

He broke the kiss and moved back just out of
reach. When she tried to pull him back, he resisted. “Are you ready
to make promises to me, Dragonfly?” he asked before words could
leave her opened mouth. “Are you ready to be mine and no other’s?”
She lowered her eyes, and he persisted, “Not just for a time, but
for all time?”