VirtualDesire (25 page)

They linked fingers in the dark. She guided his hand with
hers, over her breast, to her stomach, and lower. Her hips arched to his caress,
to the knowing way he touched.

How simple it all was in the dark, with no one to see or
judge what they did. And she knew it was just this one time, this once in the
anonymous blackness where she could be what he needed and he could forget what
he wanted.

He sought her mouth and she kissed him hard, then gently
explored the textures of him, bit him gently on the lips, the chin, the throat.
She loved the smooth planes of his chest, his hard stomach. His hands moved
restlessly in her hair. With slow, languid touches of her mouth she made love
to him, memorized him from knee to shoulder, his taste, his scent. She
memorized it all for later, when he was once again a warrior and she but a
slave—when she was gone.

This time, when he entered her, she held herself motionless.
When he tried to move, she clutched him tightly and whispered to him to lie
still. She felt a frantic need hold on to the moment, to freeze it. For when he
found his release this time, she knew it would be the end.

He lay in her arms, every muscle of his body held rigid at
her request. His lips feathered her with soft kisses on her eyelids, her brows,
her mouth. But one traitorous part of her couldn’t hold still, and with a moan,
she arched her hips to him.

They came together, riding the same need, frantic for the
same end. He said her name once. Then she lost herself in his passion, deaf to
the words he murmured in her ear, enveloped only in his touch, his fierce
embrace. She felt his teeth on her shoulder and cried out a flicker of pain met
an outpouring of ecstasy.

Gwen became aware of a faint glimmer of light raising
sparkles across the frost-rimmed rocks. She rubbed her eyes. Yes, it was light.
She broke from Vad’s warm embrace, shaking his shoulder. “Someone’s coming,”
she whispered by his ear.

He rose slowly, like a bear awakening after a long winter’s
nap. How magnificent he looked in the dim light—and how unreal. No man should
be that handsome, that perfect. He gathered his scattered clothing, and she remembered
that he did not revere his perfection. Indeed, he thought it a burden.

Self-consciously, she pulled on her gown, then turned away
as Vad dressed. When no one burst in on them, she tiptoed to the grotto
entrance and peeked out.

“Vad, look,” she called. He joined her. Sequentially along
the path, torches burned. They flamed low in their brackets, telling her how
long they’d been asleep.

“Ardra,” Vad said, looking down at her. “She must be marking
our path back for us.”

Gwen gathered her rush basket and the flagons of potion. She
felt her face flush with the knowledge that if Ardra had lit a path for them
back to the cavern, she had probably seen them, heard them. Gwen wanted to bury
her face in her hands in embarrassment, thinking of the abandoned way they’d
made love, sure of the knowledge they were not only unseen, but also unheard.

Had Ardra come after them?

And how long had they slept in each other’s arms?
No
,
Gwen thought
, I won’t think about his arms, sleeping, any of it.
She
avoided eye contact with him, afraid to see regret in his gaze.

“Should we tell Ardra about Enec?” he asked softly.

She shook her head. “No, she thinks he died on the river.
She’s already mourned him. Why reopen the wound or add to her pain?”

“Come.” Vad held out his hand, and she accepted it. Every
step away from the grotto was a step away from intimacy, and a step toward an
inevitable separation. At the steaming pool, she hastily washed herself and
pulled a linen tunic over her head, aware of his intent scrutiny. His gaze touched
her like fingers skimming her skin.

But he would not allow her to avoid him. He knelt before her
and took the laces from her hands before she could cross-garter her legs and
don her male persona.

I won’t think about his hands either
, she thought as his
strong fingers wrapped up her legs.

“Gwen, look at me.” She lifted her eyes to his blue ones,
dark here in the light of but one last torch, his irises so huge his eyes
appeared to be black. “We must talk.”

She shot to her feet. “Gee, in Ocean City that’s never a
good way to start a conversation.” She grabbed a cloak and swung it about her
shoulders.

“I do not know how to say this. You are making it more
difficult.”

She lifted the extra bow and cradled it in her arms, across
her chest, before looking up at him. She took a huge breath and smiled her best
smile, imbued it with all the happiness she did not feel. “I know what you’re
going to say, Vad, and you don’t need to. Please don’t worry about me either.”
A lump burned in her throat, but she swallowed it. “We were celebrating life
after coming so close to death.” She went on quickly before he could say
anything that would rip her heart right out of her chest. “That’s all. But it
was a beautiful celebration.”

He gripped her upper arm. “Is that all it was? Celebrating
life?”

“Sure. What more
can
it be?” She didn’t wait for him
to answer. “I’ll carry these, too,” she said, and fumbled the extra arrows into
a pile like giant pickup sticks.

His brow furrowed. “And what of my dreams?”

“Dreams?”

“Aye,” he said, coming to her and taking the arrows. He
carefully packed them into a quiver. “I had dreams there as we lay sleeping. I
have had them before, only this time they had such detail, such clarity, I
cannot explain it. You wanted me to examine my dreams. Well, I am ready.”

So he was concerned about the dreams he’d had, not about
trashing his vows or breaking her heart.

He went down on his haunches and used the tip of the jeweled
dagger to make a drawing in the black dust of the cavern floor. “I dreamt of
this.”

Irresistibly, she was drawn to his side. Perhaps it was the
black dust that rendered his crude lines so clear.
London taxi
, she
thought immediately. With agitated strokes, he drew another object.
An
airplane
. When he looked up at her, his eyes wide and questioning, she
forgot her own heartbreak. He must be remembering. He must be who Kered
said—Nicholas Sandav, a missing child from her place and time, descendant of
another man of wondrous beauty.

“Nilrem’s Seat of Wishes?” he asked softly, his blade hovering
over the taxi.

She shook her head. “No. It’s called a car. Like the one you
saw in Ocean City.” Did she have the energy to explain internal-combustion
engines?

With a sweep of his hand, he erased the plane. “And this is
not some fantastic bird that haunts my nights?”

“No.” She said it softly, for his agitation was evident in
every line of his body.

“Vad. Gwen. If we wish to arrive under cover of darkness, we
must hurry.”

Ardra stood before them, dressed in elegant white wool with
gold embroidery. The hood of her cloak framed her face and drew attention to
her lovely features.

“We’re ready. Lead the way,” Gwen said cheerfully, faking a
smile and hefting the quiver of arrows over her shoulder.

When she looked at Vad, he had once again donned his warrior
mien. Any hint of his earlier passion or the confusion of the last few moments
was buried far beneath his surface demeanor. Any fears he had about returning
to Tolemac without the treasure map were buried even deeper.

“We have no time to waste if we wish to return the maidens
under cover of darkness.” And so saying, Ardra swept away from the cavern. Gwen
had little choice but to follow; Vad’s footsteps were a constant reminder of
his presence behind her.

They had been longer in the grotto than Gwen had suspected.
Light burst on them. It dazzled their eyes, poured a bronze gleam over the
fortress cliffs. She shaded her eyes for a few moments, until her eyes
readjusted to life in the outside world.

The huge red orb of the sun was almost overhead. At the
grotto entrance, Ardra’s people were readying a boat. This boat was large and
magnificent. It had a tall mast and seats for six or more oarsmen.

At the sight of Vad, the maidens screamed and surrounded him
as if a pop star had arrived. They bubbled over with thanks for rescuing them.

“I did not do it alone. You must offer your gratitude to
both Gwen and Ardra.” When the maidens made no move, he said in a disapproving
voice, “Give them thanks. Now.” He gently shook off the youngest maidens, who
clung like barnacles to his legs, and urged them in the direction of the women.

The maidens offered a flurry of thanks to Gwen and Ardra,
then returned immediately to Vad’s side.

Gwen watched him. He lifted Liah into his arms. The child
tugged at his straggling braids, and he said something that made them all laugh
and Liah do it again.

Get to work, she chastised herself. She climbed into the
boat and helped Ardra place several painted boxes in the bow.

“He is very patient with their foolishness,” Ardra said.
Gwen couldn’t speak. She feared what her voice might betray, so she merely
nodded.

“You are different.”

Gwen’s head jerked up. “Different? What do you mean?”

“It is difficult to put a name to the difference.” Ardra
shrugged. “But there is something…it is in your eyes. He took you last night,
did he not? That is it. You are filled with sadness because he has no place for
you in his life.”

“You know, Ardra, he did not
take
me. That’s not what
lovemaking is—taking. I
gave
myself to him, and there’s a big
difference. Remember that when you fall in love. You’re supposed to give, not
take.”

Fall in love
. When had it happened? When had she
passed from admiration of his face and form to something else?

She knew the exact moment, when he had come after her.

But she made a decision. “Vad suggested that your father
might be grateful for ridding the fortress of Narfrom’s evil influence. Would
that gratitude extend to an escort for me, back to Nilrem’s mountain?”

Ardra looked from Gwen to Vad. “If you are sure you wish to
leave him, my father will most certainly grant you an escort. You have but to
ask.”

Gwen followed the direction of her gaze. A ray of red sun
burst from behind a cloud and filled the grotto with an uncanny light, painting
the walls copper. Vad looked bronzed, like a sculpture—beautiful and unreal.
“I’m sure,” she said softly. “When Vad leaves with the maidens, I’ll go to
Nilrem’s mountain.”

Unfortunately, Narfrom had spent plenty of time telling her
how to get
into
the game, but had not told her anything about getting
out. She would have to trust that it all worked smoothly in reverse. She would
spend the journey to Nilrem’s mountain praying for rain—and praying that
Narfrom never returned. Perhaps the fair sky was a harbinger of better times
for them all. She prayed that Narfrom was truly gone from this world. Although
she knew it was shameful, she wasted a few moments hoping he’d get hit by a bus
in hers.

Tears pricked at her eyes, and she bent to inspect the
furled sails to conceal her face from Ardra’s too-knowing scrutiny.

They worked together in silence, Ardra fussing with
embroidered pillows and soft woolen blankets, Gwen surreptitiously checking the
sheets, lines, and sails.

The sound of marching men filled the watery fortress
entrance. Gwen turned and looked up the steps. Ruonail stood there, wrapped in
his rich green robes, flanked by his guards.

The maidens hid behind Vad. Liah wrapped her arms tightly
about his neck and buried her face in his hair.

“Do not be afraid,” Ardra said firmly, and Gwen relaxed. It
felt odd not to be fearful. She’d just spent the last few days in a state of
high-level anxiety.

Vad gave only a slight nod of his head to acknowledge the
older man. Ardra bowed deeply, and Gwen followed suit. Why annoy Ruonail when
she intended to ask him for a favor?

“Esteemed warrior,” Ruonail said from his place at the top
of the steps. “Please assure the maidens I mean them no harm.”

“Harm has already been done,” Vad responded.

Ruonail nodded. It was then Gwen noticed the tremor in his
frame. When he descended the steps to the edge of the pier, he leaned on one of
his men.

“No compensation can make amends for the damage done here in
this last month.” Ruonail accepted a heavy walking stick from one guard. It was
topped by a golden knob set with amber. It was not decorative, but necessary
without the guard’s arm.

“Then you have come to bid us good journey?” Vad set Liah on
the stone pier and, with a hand on her head, guided her behind him.

“Aye. But before you go, would you accept a reward for
helping me…see the error of my ways?”

“I need no reward except this.” He swept a hand in the
direction of the boat.

“What I have to offer you is infinitely more valuable than a
simple boat.”

“Father.” Ardra put out her hand and, with a guard’s
assistance, climbed back onto the pier. She wrung her hands. “Father. I beg of
you, not at this time.”

Her father gently stroked the back of his hand down her
cheek. “I did it all for you. I wanted you to have everything that was denied
your mother for being born Selaw and not Tolemac.”

“Please. I have never been discontent with my lot,” Ardra
said. “I require nothing.”

“Silence, child.” The words were gently spoken, but a very
specific order.

Ardra subsided, but her hands continued their agitated
motion.

Ruonail drew himself up to his full height. “I have been
beguiled by a man’s stories of power. But now I am recovered. Ardra informed me
you have taken time from your own urgent concerns to save these young women.
She is filled with admiration for your sacrifice. Thus I wish to offer you the
greatest possession I have—my daughter. I offer her to you as a lifemate.”

The world spun a moment, and Gwen needed to grasp the smooth
wooden mast for support.
Lifemate?

Gwen looked from Ruonail to Ardra, then to Vad, whose
impassive features gave no hint of his thoughts.

No one looked stunned. Did that mean she was the only one
who had not seen the possibility? Gwen’s stomach churned. She sat down heavily
on one of the supply boxes, a vicious headache behind one eye.

Ruonail lifted his stick to the red sun. “We Selaw share the
same light, earth, and sea as Tolemac, and yet we have fought for generations.
I have jeopardized the first fragile peace, perhaps irreparably, should the
Tolemac councilors fail to accept my compensatory gifts.” He indicated the
seven boxes in the bow of the boat. “To truly know peace, we must join
together. As we speak, Tolemac is negotiating a lifemating between a Selaw
princess and your high councilor, Samoht. If one of his warriors were to take
the same step, it would start our chiefdoms on the road to a deeper, firmer
peace.”

What horse hockey, Gwen thought. He’d just kidnapped seven
maidens, chained them to walls, and he spoke of peace. She had to bite her
tongue to keep silent.

“You have not demonstrated any wish for peace. Senga will
bear the scars of her manacle for all her days,” Vad said with a small loss of
his usual control.

“What damage has been done to these others, I can only
conjecture.”

That’s it,
Gwen cheered inside.
Reject the old
hypocrite.

“One must start a journey of redemption at the site of one’s
sins.” Ruonail made his halting way to where Vad stood. “Selfishly, I know that
should Tolemac learn of my…foolishness, ‘tis likely I will be beheaded—”