The Charmer (30 page)

Chapter 25

Keilor entered his wife’s room as though it
were his own and caught her unaware.

Jasmine spun around to face him from her
position at the fountain. “Keilor,” she said somewhat uncertainly.
She flinched when he shut the door

hard.

“You do realize,” he told her sternly, “that
you only get one chance at divorce.”

She swallowed hard and nodded. Arms wrapped
around herself, she shifted, causing the white satin of her dress
to mold around her slack hip and thigh. “I...should not have...”
She bit her lip and said in a rush, “I shouldn’t have done it, and
it wasn’t fair—” she broke off and stared at him nervously.

His eyes narrowed with suspicion. He’d never
seen Jasmine so rattled. Was she afraid? He allowed his eyes to
drop for a moment, something he would never do with an enemy, in
reassurance. “I told you once that I would never beat you.”

She drew in a breath. “There are some things
worse than beating.” Since she was looking at the floor, rubbing
her arms, she missed his sharp look. “That first day, outside the
clinic, I thought that since you were rejecting...other things,”
her face spasmed, betraying pain, “It seemed clear to me that you
had no real use for me, either. Other than the obvious,” she
finished stiffly.

Torn between compassion and anger, he fought
to contain his temper. “I explained myself.”

“You did,” she jumped to agree. “But...what
my ears hear and my brain understands doesn’t always make it to
my...heart.” She spoke the word ‘heart’ with great difficulty,
almost as if she’d rather skim over the entire explanation.

“You doubt my love,” Keilor said, and her
hesitation and heightened breathing set his teeth on edge. His left
hand wrapped around his sword hilt, the index finger tapping out
his displeasure. Did all married men suffer these grievances, or
was he simply unlucky?

Still she refused to look at his face. “You
warned me, so I won’t blame you if you don’t want….” Taking a shaky
breath, she rushed out, “I’m pregnant already.” Finally she turned
her white face to him.

He stared at her belly, his thoughts stalled
on that one word.

She must have taken his dumbfounded
expression completely wrong, for she blurted out, tears in her
voice, “I can go back to my world and have the baby there, and you
won’t have to worry about us messing up your life. Really. We—”

She broke off as he drifted to her, unable to
take in her words at first. Realization of what she was saying hit
just as his palm flattened over her stomach.

His head snapped up. “You will do no such
thing. I will not have my wife and child wandering around a hostile
alien world without me. You are staying here, my child is staying
here, and no more words will ever cross your lips denying me my
rights, do you understand?”

Heartbreaking, bewildered eyes blinked at
him. “You want us?” she whispered, as if a louder tone might break
his trance and cause him to change his mind. “After what I did, you
still
…
?”

He crushed her to him, touching her for the
first time in far too long. “Woman….” Words failed him. He stroked
her hair, kissed the top of her head. “Dragonfly, I told you I
wanted children, didn’t I? Why would you think I would reject my
own child?” She started to cry, and then he understood. Her
mother.

“Thundering rains.” He picked her up like a
child and sat down on the couch with her in his lap. What damage
had she suffered before coming to him? Stroking her hair in a
soothing rhythm, he cradled her, saying, “I am Keilor, and no one
who came before. You know me, Dragonfly. Would I do these things
you accuse me of?”

A shuddering breath escaped her, and she
shook her head against him, sniffing. “No.”

He made her sit up and look at him. “Would
I

no, look at me and don’t think of
another,” he chided her when her gaze turned inward. “Would this
man you know send his baby away? His son or his daughter? His
wife?” he finished softly, letting a trace of the hurt he felt
color his voice.

“No,” she answered, just as softly, and
rested her head against his. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed. “We’ll put it down to pregnancy.
Breeding woman are known to do all manor of odd things.” She
scowled at him, and he smiled, glad to see a return of her
spirit.

He stood up and carried her to the bed,
laying her on top of the quilt and arranging the light blanket
folded at the bottom over her. “Rest for a little while. I’ll be
back to join you very soon, but first I have to speak to Jayems.”
He kissed her. “I won’t be long.”

“I won’t allow harm to come to them.”

Jayems cocked his head. “Since when do you
think I became capable of sentencing an innocent woman and an
infant to death?” He smiled faintly. “Not to mention the trouble I
would have just getting to her. I assume you have Raziel and Isfael
guarding her again?”

Keilor nodded, smiling as he remembered the
shock and relief, and then the congratulations his friends had
offered. Isfael had teased him, thanking him for not getting her
pregnant before their adventures in the swamp. “If she’s this
grumpy with her husband, I’d hate to think what we would have
suffered if she’d been breeding in the swamps.”

Serious again, he pointed out, “The others
are not likely to support us, Jayems. The law is an old one.”

“And foolish.” Jayems removed his feet from
his desk and reached for a document. “Take a look at this,” he
said, handing the sheaf of papers to Keilor.

Keilor scanned it quickly. Brows raised, he
asked, “Are they serious?”

Jayems nodded. “The Symbiont people wish to
open negotiations with the Haunt. If I send an affirmative reply,
their representatives will be here within two weeks. Your wife
would make the ideal ambassador,” he suggested.

There was silence as Keilor considered the
implications. The Haunt could hardly afford to alienate Jasmine
under those circumstances. Unfortunately, if he were to allow her
involvement, she would be exposed too much danger. Knightin had not
been found. Yesande was on the loose, and his own people might very
well attempt to kill her for the crime of carrying a half-breed
child.

He did not like his choices.

Eyes closed, he pinched the bridge of his
nose. He couldn’t just keep her hidden away for the rest of her
life. She deserved so much more, and for all he knew she’d love to
be involved with the Ronin. “The choice shall be hers,” he finally
said.

Jasmine’s eyes got wide with delight. “You
mean it?” she breathed. “The Ronin are coming here? I could really
be an ambassador?” Keilor nodded in affirmation, and she hugged him
with glee. “That’s great! Now I can finally be of some use around
here. I’ve got to talk to Jayems.” She started to scramble from the
bed.

Keilor blocked her with his body and used it
to lower her back down to the mattress. One of his knees rested
between her thighs, and he allowed just enough of his weight to
settle on her to make her eyes flare. “I’ve been married to you for
three months now, yet have only shared your bed twice. Has that
been enough for you?” he asked, his eyes smoking.

An involuntary tremor raced through her, and
her breathing quickened. She shook her head. “Never enough,” she
whispered, and it was true. Still, her body stiffened with
uncertainty. With all that had come between them, could it still be
good? Had Keilor really forgiven her?

Sensing her hesitation, Keilor rolled over on
his back, bringing her over him. He kissed her lightly, but with
enough hunger to wring a moan from her. He settled back with his
hands laced behind his head. With a wicked grin, he told her, “I’m
all yours, Dragonfly. Do your worst.”

Eyes dark with feminine power drifted down
his body, and her eyebrow quirked. “My worst, huh? Are you certain
you can take it?”

His grin widened. “Oh, I can take it, love,
but can you?” His hips heaved once, bringing his arousal against
her, and she cried out at the sudden rush of flame. He subsided
with a naughty smile.

Challenged, Jasmine sat up and slowly
unfastened the gold clasps holding her sleeveless gown at the
shoulders, letting the white silk fall to reveal the flaming red
overnji, minus a bandeau, underneath. Keilor’s eyes widened, and he
started to reach for her. She grabbed his wrists and forced them
back behind his head, leaning just out of reach.

“I have been weeks without you,” he growled
in warning, staring at her breasts. This could not be part of their
game. He had not envisioned such a wicked cheat when he’d proposed
the match. How was he to keep his hands off her?

“You started it,” she taunted, holding his
wrists and slithering down his body to reach one sensitive ear. Her
hot tongue darted out to trace the edges and then darted into the
center, wringing a groan from him. He tried to turn his head to
capture her mouth, but instead she forced his face aside with her
head and took his lobe in her mouth, deliberately making sexy
little moans.

Fiery kisses trailed down his throat, and she
sucked on the sensitive skin and released his wrists to slowly
unlace his vest. He could have done it in a quarter of the time,
but nothing he could have done would have matched the fever she
created as she lightly dragged her nails down his chest. They
flowed across his ribs and down his ridged abdomen to separate and
score his thighs.

It was outside of enough. Quicker than
thought, Keilor rolled her under him and began to devour her. Lips,
breasts and belly fell willing victims to his voracious hunger, and
when he finally rid them of unnecessary clothing, his wife was as
hungry as he, and just as demanding. All differences were forgotten
in the hot rush of pleasure, and Jasmine’s reserve couldn’t stand
before the tidal wave of pleasure her husband called forth. What
barrier was fear to the power of lightning?

In many ways, their marriage really began
that night. They talked about the past, their future…

“I’ve never asked. What kind of schooling do
kids get here?” Jasmine inquired, snuggling against her bare
husband.

“Mathematics, science, history,
horticulture,” Keilor answered, his hand tracing distracting
patterns on her arm. “Some art, animal science, domestic skills...”
His lips dusted kisses under her collarbone, above the blanket.
“...two years of military service for the males and then trade
school.”

Jasmine scowled and pushed him back. “Are you
saying women aren’t taught trades?” she asked, indignant.

Sighing, he propped his head on his arm and
answered, “Women may learn whatever they choose and are encouraged
to do so. It is only that many marry and begin families of their
own, and it’s difficult to care for children and work at a trade,
too.”

“Hmm.” She pursed her lips in thought, and
Keilor leaned over to take advantage of her momentary quiet, but
she beat him to the punch. “If the baby’s a boy, I suppose you’ll
want to stick a sword in his hand and throw him up on a stag as
soon as he can walk, huh?”

Slightly exasperated, he tugged her to him,
levering himself over her body. “Not for the first five years,” he
answered, tossing his dark hair over his shoulder and out of the
way. Then he slid home, cutting off all further questions for the
next half hour.

It wasn’t until the next morning that they
returned to questions of children and domestic life, and this time
it was Keilor who brought it up.

“Today would be a good day to choose new
rooms,” he said over breakfast. He waited to see her reaction.

Jasmine paused in the act of drenching her
hot cereal with nut cream. Slowly she resumed, spooning a good
quantity of brown date sugar over the cream. “Won’t that be kind of
expensive?”

His brows shot up. “I am entitled to any
rooms I choose to make my own, lady wife, as are you.” His lips
twitched. “Free of rent.” A soft sound of derision escaped her, but
she looked uneasy. “Jasmine,” he said, reaching for her hand. “What
is it? I can assure you we don’t live on charity.” He searched her
eyes. “Would it ease your mind if I told you that I own the patent
to the energy blades, passed down to me from my grandfather, or
that half the stags in the citadel’s stables are mine?”

Her lips parted in surprise. Enjoying her
naiveté because it marked her disinterest in his financial affairs
until they directly concerned her, unlike so many others, he
continued, “I intend to provide you with a regular quarterly
allowance, as well as any additional money you may require.”

He named an amount that made her goggle.
“That’s...I couldn’t spend that much in a year, Keilor,” she
rasped.

“Not if you don’t get out and start
shopping,” he teased, choosing to ignore her reaction. He had
confidence that, being a woman, she’d not only learn to spend her
allowance, but quickly wheedle him into giving her more. Not that
he would begrudge it. “As soon as we’re done eating, I’ll take you
for a walk through the marketplace. Would you like that?”

Her eyes lit up, but in spite of her
excitement, she didn’t eat much of her breakfast.

Frowning at the half full bowl, he asked,
“Shouldn’t you be eating more than that?”

“I’m a little queasy.”

Concerned, he looked away for a moment, not
wanting her to recognize his sudden fear. “We’ll stop by the clinic
first. I want to make certain that you’re...that everything will be
all right.”

She smiled in reassurance. “I wouldn’t worry
about it. After all, what could go wrong?”

“I don’t want her worried,” Keilor informed
the medic outside the examining room door. “If the baby makes it
here in good health, fine. But I can’t see how tormenting her with
dire predictions would do anything but harm.”