Everlasting

SIX

ZACK TURNED OFF the ignition, reached for the utility lantern/flashlight on the floor beside him, then opened the door of the helicopter. “Your charming sylvan glade seems deserted.”

“It won't be for long,” Marna said serenely. “They know we're coming.”

“I won't ask how.” Zack had come around and opened the passenger door. He lifted first Marna and then Kira to the grass. “But I would like to inquire who you think will be comin-”

“Marna!” A giant of a man stepped out of the darkness into the circle of light from the flashlight. “We knew those chitkas couldn't hold you.” A scowl deepened the lines of the man's rough-hewn features. “But you took your time about breaking free of them. We were wondering when you would come back to us.”

“Paulo.” There was deep affection in Marna's murmur as she hugged the large man. She turned to Zack. “You remember my brother Paulo.”

“I remember,” Zack said. He smiled warmly at Paulo as he shook the man's gigantic paw. Paulo Debuk had changed very little over the years. His dark, full beard was peppered with gray now, but his big-boned body was still as lithe and powerful as Zack remembered it from years ago. He was dressed in scuffed boots, an old suede vest, a tattered full-sleeved tan shirt, and rough denim trousers, and he wore this shabby apparel with an air of careless majesty that even Stefan would have envied. “We used to hunt these hills together,” Zack said. “Is hunting still such a passion with you, Paulo?”

“Now more than ever,” Paulo said, smiling in an odd way. “The hills are full of strange and interesting prey these days. It's quite a challenge to stalk it, but as yet I haven't bothered to bring any home.”

Zack's eyes narrowed on Paulo's bearded face. “Sounds intriguing. I wish I had time to join you.”

Paulo suddenly laughed. “No, you'll be too busy with the little one to hunt with me on this visit.” He turned to Kira and enveloped her in a bear hug, whirling her in a circle. “How are you, Kira? You bagged big game yourself, eh?”

“Has anyone ever told you about women's liberation?” Kira asked tartly. “I never could persuade you to take me hunting.”

“It was not because you were a female,” he protested as he set her on her feet. “To hunt, one must have the proper instincts. If I had taken you with me, all you would have done was snap pretty pictures.”

“And Zack has the right instincts, I suppose?”

Paulo looked at Zack over Kira's head. “Yes, he has the instincts. He knows when to kill, when to capture, and when to set free. It's in the blood.” He turned back to Marna. “I will take Zack to the saldana to spend the night. You and Kira go back to the encampment. We will speak of the mondava in the morning.”

“We need to camouflage the helicopter before daybreak,” Zack said. “And I have a shortwave radio to keep in contact with my people in Belajo. I want to bring that with me to the camp.”

Paulo nodded. “I'll send someone to pick it up tomorrow before dawn. I'll put a guard on the helicopter tonight.”

“A guard? They probably don't even know Marna's escaped yet.”

Paulo shrugged. “It doesn't hurt to be cautious.” He ruffled Kira's hair playfully. “Run along with Marna, little one. We'll take care of everything from now on. You don't have to be afraid.”

“I'm not afraid.” Kira's hands clenched into fists at her sides in frustration. “And I may be little, but I'm not a child.”

Paulo's laughter boomed out. “We are all children. Some only more so than others.” He tugged teasingly at a lock of her auburn hair. “Enjoy your childhood, Kira.”

“No,” Zack said quietly. “We're not being fair.”

He took a step closer to her and his eyes were deep and soft in the lantern light. “I know all this is confusing and annoying to you. I promise it won't continue to be that way for very much longer. I'll try to explain it all to you tomorrow. Okay?”

She felt the now familiar melting sensation attack her muscles and cause her breathing to quicken. “Okay.”

The tip of his index finger touched her cheek in the lightest of caresses. “You're being very patient with us.”

“I never even knew I possessed an iota of patience until the last few days. I'm learning new things all the time about my inner resources.” She turned to Marna. “Shall we go on to the camp? Evidently I've just been told to run along and play in the sandbox again.”

Marna smiled. “It is best. You will see. Come on, the camp is through that grove of poplars.”

Kira lifted her hand resignedly in farewell to Zack and Paulo, and muttered “Good night” before falling into step with Marna.

Zack's gaze followed her as she swiftly strode with Marna toward the grove. When her figure was lost to him in the shadowy darkness of the trees, he turned toward Paulo.

“A time to capture and a time to set free,” Paulo reminded him softly.

Zack clapped him on the shoulder. “I know, my friend, but in this particular instance my priorities are confused. My hunting instincts are being sublimated by the mating instinct. I'll be damned glad when all this is over.”

“It is important to Marna. She has planned this for a long time.” Paulo waved his hand. “It's only one more night. I have an excellent brandy at the saldana. Maybe we'll get drunk and you'll forget about little Kira for the night.”

“It's worth a try,” Zack said. He was willing to try anything to avoid another night like the last one he'd spent. He seemed to be in a permanent state of arousal these days, and he had only to look at Kira to have that arousal sharpen to an aching feverishness. “By all means, lead on to the saldana.”

The crisp fallen leaves crunched under Kira's suede boots and she could see her breath form misty clouds as she walked beside Marna through the grove. The stars looked different here in the woods than they had from the terrace. Had it been only a few hours since she'd stood on the terrace at the palace? she wondered. She felt shocked because that scene seemed to belong to a different century and certainly to a different world.

“What is a saldana?” she asked suddenly.

“It is a place apart,” Marna said. “When there is a need, one of the caravans is pulled a short distance from the rest of the camp to insure complete privacy.”

“A need?”

“Grief or a soul search or a mondava.” She paused. “You will be with Zack at the saldana tomorrow night.”

Kira swallowed. “I will? How nice of you to tell me.”

Marna's eyes were suddenly probing. “You have promised to belong to him. Is that not so?”

“Yes.”

“It is not against your will? You wish to be in his bed?”

“No, it's not against my will, and yes, I wish to be in his bed.” Heaven knew that was the truth. She was so acutely aware of him, just the light touch of his finger on her cheek had caused a ripple of desire to invade every secret part of her.

“Then that's all that is important. The understanding will come in time,” Marna said. “It is all part of the mondava.”

“Are you going to tell me what this mondava is?” Kira asked dryly. “Evidently I figure in it prominently and I appear to be the only one around here who is ignorant about it.”

“You don't know? I thought Zack would tell you.” Marna smiled wryly. “No, I thought he would show you.”

“He was just as closemouthed as you were,” Kira said.

Marna frowned. “You must not go into it without knowledge. I did not mean for that to happen.”

“Zack said it meant the ‘forever bonding’ or ‘everlasting bonding’ in your dialect.”

“Everlasting,” Marna said softly. “Yes, that is what it means. It is the coming together. The sealing of two souls who have been parted. There is a proper time for all things, and when the time is right there comes the mondava.” Her glance met Kira's. “Not only the souls are united but also the bodies. Sometimes the merging does not come at one and the same time, but then one always follows the other. You must not worry if Zack seems to forget the soul for the body. The other will come.”

“Will it?” Kira drew a deep, shaky breath. “Marna, for heaven's sake, how do you know? Zack may only be aware of the physical aspect of the mondava. I offered myself to him on a silver platter to get you out of Tamrovia. He may think the mondava is something like the gestures of hospitality some primitive people made in offering their women to visiting men. Remember, he only spent a short time with your tribe and may not fully understand the mondava.”

Marna shook her head. “He understands.”

“Marna…” It was no use. Kira could tell by the set of Marna's jaw that she had made up her mind and no amount of arguing was going to change it. She was obviously convinced Zack was the only mate for Kira and was proceeding to effect the union in her own unique, inexorable fashion. She wouldn't even consider the possibility that Zack might not be ready to commit himself to anything but a physical relationship.

But Kira's argument was valid, dammit, even if Marna wouldn't admit it. Zack had certainly been quick enough to reject the possibility of marriage to her, she remembered with a pang. Their relationship had deepened and grown enormously in the short time they had known each other, but it didn't mean Zack had changed his mind. Evidently this ritual Marna was arranging was equivalent to a tribal marriage ceremony. Legal or not, Zack had an innate respect for tribal rituals and would regard this one as binding. Oh, Lord, she hadn't meant to trap him. And there was no doubt that the desire tormenting them both was the bait for the trap. She couldn't let such a thing happen to Zack. “When is this ceremony?” she asked suddenly.

“Tomorrow at nightfall,” Marna said. “We will spend the day preparing you.” She paused. “Of course the mondava also signals the end of childhood for a woman and the beginning of maturity.”

Ah, Kira thought, now she understood why Marna had been so melancholy last night. She believed Kira would give herself totally to Zack and forsake all those she'd loved before.

“We're going to have to talk about your feelings, Marna,” Kira said gently. “Yes, we need to talk about a good many things other than memories.”

“The mondava,” Marna said flatly.

“In a manner of speaking. About maturity, anyway. It will wait, though. You've already given me too much to think about right now.”

“It will all come clear. Tomorrow night at the mondava.”

“Kira.”

It was Zack's whisper.

She woke instantly from the light sleep into which she'd fallen only a few hours before. She lifted her head from the pillow and saw Zack's dark silhouette framed against the pearly gray light of predawn coming through the opening at the front of the wagon. Kira cast a glance at the large form on the mattress next to her own. Marna hadn't stirred at Zack's low call.

Kira threw off the blanket and came swiftly to her knees on the pallet. She searched in the shadows of the caravan until she found her jacket and suede boots, and then crawled quickly to the front of the wagon.

Zack lifted her from the seat to the ground with careful and soundless strength. “I'm glad I finally found you. I think I peered into every wagon in camp. Put on your boots.” He waited while she pulled them on. It wasn't nearly as cold as it had been last night, even though she noticed that the huge campfire, which was the heart of the ring of caravans surrounding it, had burned down to gray ashes and flickering embers.

There was a touch of impatience in Zack's face as he took her hand. “Come on, let's get the hell out of here.” His voice was almost rough and it slightly startled her. She had never seen Zack impatient or rough. She gazed at him bemusedly as he pulled her away from the camp and through the woods. Then they were climbing a hill with a speed that made her legs ache a little by the time they reached the summit.

The sun had not yet risen and within the cluster of trees at the crest of the hill his face was still shadowed and unreadable as she faced him. “Zack? What is it? Is something wrong?”

“Dear heaven, yes, something is wrong,” he said in a husky tone of voice. His arms enfolded her with a crushing power that took her breath away. If there had been any left to take away. When she'd been brought with passionate violence against Zack's bold arousal, she'd lost both composure and breath in one swoop. “This is what's wrong.” His hands moved down to cup her buttocks and bring her closer still. His hips began to move against her in a slow, undulating movement that was mindlessly primitive. “I can't take it anymore. I thought I could last until Marna's damn ceremony tonight, but I can't do it. It's been too long already and I'm hurting.” His breath was coming in harsh gasps as his hands clenched on her soft, rounded flesh. “I tried everything last night. I counted a million damn sheep. I kept Paulo up half the night telling stories until he dozed off. I even tried to get drunk.” His laugh held an edge of desperation. “Indians are supposed to be susceptible to firewater, but it didn't faze me.” His eyes closed and his hands splayed out with a tactile yearning, rubbing and smoothing gently. “Maybe I was high already.”

She certainly was, she realized. She was dizzy and helpless from the sensations he was engendering with every touch. She could detect the faint scent of musk and soap and brandy that clung to his body. She had been a little chilly before, but she was burning up now. Her breath was coming in little gasps, as if she were being touched rhythmically by an electric charger. “Zack…”

His eyes opened and he glared down at her with an intensity that stopped the words in her throat. “Say it, dammit.”

She gazed up at him in bewilderment. “Say what?”

“Say yes. Say I can have you. Right now, with no more of this god-awful waiting. Say that I can stop hurting.”

He was hurting. She could see the agony that tautened his features and caused the skin to tighten over his cheekbones. And she could help him. The knowledge sent a flowing warmth through her to temper with pure joy the white-hot passion she was experiencing. She could stop his hurting, take away the hunger born of pain and bring him pleasure, then peace. “Oh, yes, Zack,” she said softly. “Please. Now.”

His breath was released in a little explosion. “Thank heaven! I know I'm being a bast-” He broke off. “I'll try to make up for it later.” He was drawing her closer with trembling arms. “Just come here and let me love you, Kira. Just let me love you.”

His hands were at the belt of her jeans; his attempt at unfastening them was oddly clumsy. The zipper made a soft, silky hiss as it slid down. His hands slipped beneath denim and silk to touch her, sending ripples of shock through her system. His palms were cold, but her own body heat quickly transferred warmth to them.

His nails raked lightly over the curve of her buttocks before moving around to caress the smoothness of her belly with hands shaking with eagerness. “Soft. Lord, you're so soft and sweet. I want to-” His hand moved down to the apex of her thighs and he touched her with a gentleness at odds with the roughness that had preceded it. “I haven't seen you here,” he said hoarsely. “When I was lying on that mattress last night, I could imagine every other part of you, because I'd seen how beautiful you were at the lodge.” His fingers found the place they were seeking.

She gave a low cry as he pressed and then began to rotate the spot slowly. Her eyes were staring blindly up at him and she had to clutch his shoulders or she would have fallen.

“Not here. I couldn't imagine how you looked or what response you'd give me when I did this.” There was savage joy glittering in his eyes. “But now I'm going to see you and touch you…” He pressed again and she jerked forward, arching helplessly toward him. “And pleasure you until you go out of your mind.”

She was already out of her mind. She felt as if every single nerve ending were on fire. She was tingling in the strangest places. The centers of her palms were throbbing and her toes wanted to curl. He stepped back from her, took off his jacket, and spread it on a pile of beech leaves on the ground. Then he was pulling her down on her knees on the coat to face him. The dry leaves rustled beneath his coat as he shifted to remove her jacket too. “Damn, I'll probably give you pneumonia. Are you cold?”

“If there's one thing I'm not, it's cold,” she murmured. Her hands were quivering as she pulled her sweater over her head and threw it aside. “I'm burning up!”

“I'll try to keep you burning up.” He stopped her as she started to unfasten the front opening of her bra. “Let me. I've been looking forward to undressing you. It will be like seeing a flower unfold, petal by petal.” He laughed huskily. “If I can make my damn hands stop trembling.”

They were still trembling as he opened the catch and slid the straps over her shoulders, as he slowly slipped the lacy scrap of material down her arms. Then he drew a shuddering breath, his gaze caressing the full swollen mounds. His eyes remained fixed compulsively on her as he pulled his sweatshirt off and threw it on top of her sweater. “Come here.”

His chest, bronzed, heavily muscled, feathered with a wedge of dark hair, looked deliciously soft and springy to her. She slowly leaned forward and his hands grasped her shoulders. Her head fell back and her eyes closed as he rubbed his chest back and forth against her with a sinuous catlike movement. “Zack…” She didn't even realize she had murmured his name. The hair on his chest was a soft, sensuous abrasion against her nipples as he moved. She could feel the muscles of her abdomen twist and knot, and the trembling of her body grew violent.

“You're sure you're not cold?” Zack muttered as his warm tongue moved against her ear.

“I'm not cold.” He couldn't seem to comprehend such a simple fact. “I'm about to go up in smoke. Why do you-” She broke off as his lips crushed hers with a force and passion that seared through her like a burning brand.

He lay her back on the coat, his hands drawing off her jeans and panties in one clean motion. His head lifted and he looked down at her. He sat back on his heels. His eyes were dark and almost glazed with need as they bored into her. “You look like a cossack and an empress all at once lying there entirely nude except for those boots.”

She hadn't been aware that she still had them on. She watched bemusedly as he pulled the right suede boot off and tossed it aside. His hand cupped one bare foot and rubbed the arch, massaging it gently. “You have strong, supple feet. I like that. Your entire body is strong and firm and womanly.” She was experiencing little shooting sensations from her arch to her calf. She had never heard that the foot could be an erogenous zone, she realized hazily. She shouldn't have been surprised. She probably didn't have a spot on her body that wasn't an erogenous zone if Zack touched it. His big hands were sliding up her calves now, his fingers massaging and exploring at the same time.

Then he was moving between her legs, parting her thighs gently while gazing at her most intimate part with eyes so dark and intent that she felt as if he were touching her there. “That's what I wanted to see. You're as beautiful here as everywhere else. Now when I'm thinking about you, I'll know and be able to visualize-” He broke off. “But I won't have to visualize anything anymore.” His hand reached up and cupped her with a loving possession that made her throat tighten with emotion. “All I'll have to do is turn over and pull the sheet down and look at you.” His fingers caressed her slowly, his narrowed eyes intent on the response he caused with every movement. His gaze lifted to meet hers as he slowly lowered his head. “I'll be able to rub my cheek against you and feel how warm and…”

His words were muffled, but she wouldn't have been able to hear them anyway. Her head was thrashing back and forth in an agony of hunger. His tongue… Her back arched and she cried out brokenly.

Then he was moving over her, his eyes wild and hot and his chest laboring harshly. “Kira. I need you. I don't think I can wait any longer.” His hands were working at the belt of his pants. “Is it all right?”

All right? she echoed to herself. She was aching with a hunger that seemed to have gone on forever. “Hurry,” she said. “For heaven's sake, hurry.”

He was gone. Stripping quickly, tossing his clothes haphazardly onto the ground. She had a vague impression of powerful thighs, tight buttocks-exquisite masculinity-but had no time to assimilate anything else before he was with her again, parting her thighs and sliding between them. Stroking and petting her lovingly, he looked down at her with desire and heat and a vulnerability that startled her. She had always been the vulnerable one since she had met Zack. Yet now she knew he was open and pleading and totally in her hands. With this knowledge came a sense of protectiveness that was fierce in its intensity. Her hands fell to his hips and she felt the ripple and surge of his muscles beneath her palms. “Zack… Love me.”

He slowly bent forward, his eyes never leaving hers. He nudged against her gently and she could see the wild drumming of the pulse in his temple. His lips moved in a gossamer-soft caress across her mouth. Sweetness, gentleness, a honeycomb of joy. “Open. Let me come in, love. We have to be together.”

She opened her mouth and his tongue plunged into it with a wild hardness that surprised her after his gentle overture. He groaned into her throat and she felt his entire body tense with unbearable strain. “Together.” He had lifted his lips a fraction from hers and each syllable of the word had been another kiss. His hips plunged forward as his tongue entered her mouth once again.

Pain. Sharp. Startling. Then it was gone, but the hunger was still there. Zack was moving slowly, carefully. What a beautiful fullness. Hot and heavy. Yet after the first moment it wasn't enough. There was something else waiting for her. Her palms moved restlessly on his hips. She loved the feel of his skin beneath her hands. She wanted to run them all over him and feel the textures. But not now. Now she had to find that something… She lunged upward and Zack gave a low cry, as if he had been stung by a whip.

“Kira, I don't want to hurt you…” She lunged again and his back arched in an agony of pleasure. He closed his eyes. “All right, but you must tell me if you want me to stop.” His husky laugh held a touch of desperation. “I only hope I can still hear you.”

He plunged forward with a power and passion that robbed her of breath and then unleashed a fiery rhythm that turned her mindless with sensation. How could anything be this tempest-driven? His hands were beneath her buttocks, lifting her to greater closeness, and his eyes opened to stare down at her blindly.

Together. The word was radiant with beauty. She hadn't realized it until this moment. Closeness and striving for greater unity. The rhythm breaking through barriers to emotion she never had known existed. For it was emotion and not just sensation, she realized dimly. They had passed the point of hunger and were reaching for something beyond. Mondava? Part of it, perhaps. She couldn't analyze anything when she was so close… Then she was there in a burst of radiance that illuminated the world. She heard his low, hoarse cry above her. Zack. Mondava. Together.

He was holding her with trembling arms, resting against her, his chest rising and falling heavily. He kissed her tenderly, a silent joining filled with peace, gratitude, sweetness. “I'm too heavy. I must be crushing you.” He moved off her with a smile that lit his face with gentleness. “Thank you.”

He sat up and a little away from her. He was framed against a dawn shot with pink and gold and magenta, and she wanted to keep looking at him forever. He was all sleek bronze power and rippling muscle and seemed to be an integral part of the sky and the forest of maple and beech trees wreathed in the scarlet and gold of autumn.

“You're not saying anything. Are you all right?”

“I'm wonderful.” She sat up with a grin. “And so are you.”

He frowned. “I hope your first time wasn't a disappointment. I wasn't that great, you know. I'll do better now that-” He broke off. “Do you know how beautiful you are sitting there? The sunlight is turning your hair the same shade as those maple leaves.” She reached for her sweater and he frowned again. “Don't you like me looking at you?”

She smiled. She had never imagined Zack could be even the slightest bit insecure. “I feel perfectly natural and at ease with you.” It was true. It was as though she had sat before him naked and joyously uninhibited a thousand times like this.

“Then why are you-”

She held up her hand to stop him. “For the very pedestrian reason that now I'm cold.”

“Damn! Of course you are.” He was suddenly kneeling beside her. He picked up her bra and slipped it on her. He quickly fastened it with hands that were much steadier than when he had taken it off.

Her sweater followed and he was reaching for her jeans when she stopped him. “I'll do the rest.”

“No,” he said curtly. “We have to get you dressed as soon as possible. As it is, I've probably made you ill. Why the hell didn't you stop me?”

She stared at him bemusedly as he pulled up her jeans and fastened them swiftly. “I didn't think of it. I don't believe I was thinking at all at that particular moment.”

“Well, I should have thought of it.” He jammed her left foot into her boot and then smoothed the soft suede over her ankle. “If I had been thinking at all.” Then he was putting her right foot into the other boot. “All I was doing was feeling, dammit. I didn't care about anything but stopping that hellish…” His voice trailed off as he looked up at her. “I'm sorry, Kira. Will you forgive me?”

“There's nothing to forgive,” she said softly. “I don't even know why you think there should be. You're right, I could have said no at any moment and I think you would have stopped.” She paused. “I didn't say no.”

“I didn't give you much opportunity, did I? I practically kidnapped you from the caravan, pulled you up the hill, and demanded-”

Her fingers swiftly covered his lips. “I'm not a victim. You insult me by insinuating that I'd let myself become one. You took nothing I didn't want to give.” She smiled. “Now, don't you think you'd better get dressed? You're the one who's going to catch cold.”

“I seldom feel the cold,” he said, still gazing at her intently. “You have every right to be angry with me, you know. I should have waited for the ceremony tonight. I cheated you.”

“You didn't cheat me. The ceremony was Marna's idea, not mine. I think I like this better anyway. What happened here was just between the two of us. No mysterious traditions, no mondava.”

“You're wrong. The mondava was here. We merely anticipated it.”

He was speaking of the physical joining, she realized with a pang. Now that he'd had her, he might not want to go through Marna's binding, formal ritual. “I've been meaning to speak to you. Marna and I had a talk last night.” She looked fixedly at the trunk of a beech tree beyond his shoulder. “She explained about the mondava ceremony. Perhaps it would be a good idea if we didn't go through with it.”

“The hell you say.” Zack's voice was so violent that her gaze ricocheted back to his face. His expression was as hard and grim as his tone. “I think you'd better reconsider. We made a deal, dammit. I know I've just acted with all the tact and skill of a caveman, but that doesn't mean I'll always be that crude. You don't have to marry me, but it won't stain the family escutcheon to go through with this ceremony. It's not even legal in any other country or society. You can at least give me the mondava.” He stood up and quickly began to pull on his clothes. “The ceremony will go through on schedule. Get used to the idea.”

She was gazing bewilderedly at him. “Zack, you don't understand. It was you-”

He made a movement with the edge of his hand like the slicing of a knife. It was a curiously Indian gesture, the first she had seen him make. “It's decided. The discussion is over.” He turned and strode swiftly away, leaving her to stare after him with a dazed look on her face.

She'd had no idea her words would touch off such an explosion. It appeared that Zack was aware that the ceremony tonight constituted a commitment and wasn't at all averse to it. She felt a sudden surge of happiness so intense she was a little dizzy. He must have some feeling for her, other than desire, if that volatile break in Zack's usually tranquil demeanor was anything to go by.

She jumped to her feet and gathered up both Zack's jacket and her own. She stood a moment and looked out over the hills, breathing in the aromatic scent of pines and earth and the myriad subtle fragrances that composed this autumn world. There was just the faintest tinge of scarlet left in the heavens. Soon it, too, would be replaced by the deep cerulean blue of the morning. She had a fleeting memory of Zack silhouetted against that sky and felt again a great, buoyant joy. Together.

She turned and walked swiftly down the hill toward the Gypsy encampment. She had always loved to visit Marna's people, from the time she was a tiny child. It was like taking a step back in time, with its brightly painted wagons and well-groomed horses. The tribe had adamantly refused to embrace the conveniences of motor vehicles and continued to travel the countryside as their ancestors had done for centuries. It was very soothing to leave the tensions of the modern world for a place where tradition and simple affection were more important than position and wealth.

People were awakening, preparing for the new day when Kira walked into the camp. Marna was standing by the wagon talking to Paulo and broke off in mid-sentence as Kira came toward her. Paulo gave Kira a puckish grin and a casual wave before he turned and strolled away.

Marna's eyes searched Kira's face and then dropped to Zack's coat draped across her arm. “It is done then,” she said quietly.

Kira nodded and unconsciously braced herself for an explosive reaction.

“It was with your will?”

Kira nodded again and met Marna's gaze steadily. “Yes, I couldn't have been more willing. I'm sorry you're disappointed, but…”

Marna's impatient gesture cut her short. “J do not matter. The mondava exists. That is all that is important.” She smiled in a slightly rueful way. “Besides, perhaps it was not the ceremony itself but my wish to exert my will over Zack's that made me so determined. I should have known he would not submit meekly to my controlling the situation. Diseks make their own rules and customs.” Her smile widened and there was the faintest glint of respect in her eyes. “But I didn't expect him to creep into the wagon at night and steal you away from beside me. That took a Gypsy boldness. I think we trained him too well when he was with us.”

“He didn't steal me. He called,” Kira said gently. “I believe that for the rest of my life I'll come whenever he calls me.”

“It's so strong already? Ah, well, it is only what I expected. Come, we'll have breakfast and then we will begin to prepare you for tonight. Perhaps it's best Zack decided not to tolerate my interference. Now you will be able to concentrate on the soul tonight, instead of the body.”

Would she, indeed? Kira somehow doubted it. Her body was still exquisitely sensitive and became even more so when she remembered Zack's hands moving… She drew a deep, shaky breath. “I really wouldn't count on my being preoccupied with the soul tonight, Marna.”

Marna's dark eyes were suddenly twinkling. “Maybe I should have said you'd be able to concentrate on the soul as well as the body. As for me, today I'm going to enjoy myself. I will talk to the women, and laugh, and be a Gypsy again.”

Marna looked years younger and as free and irresponsible as Paulo. She had exchanged the neat black dress she always wore outside the encampment for bright clothing. The full blue skirt and yellow cotton blouse she wore now made her appear almost another person. Kira had never really thought about Marna's age. She had always been merely Marna, as ageless and steady as these hills around them. Now Kira suddenly realized that Marna was only in her early forties.

“You really miss this life, don't you, Marna? You gave up so much when you left your people to take care of me.”

“I gained so much,” Marna corrected. “But it is good that they are still here for me now.”

But they wouldn't be here for her for very long. She would have to leave her people and her country and go into exile again. There was no question that it was entirely Kira's fault. Marna had been drawn into her problems through duty and devotion and now was going to have to suffer for it. “Oh, Marna, I wish-”

Marna's big hand caressed her cheek in a gesture that was half-pat, half gentle slap. “How many times have I told you that it is useless to wish for things. You either do something to get what you want or accept what you have. Stop worrying about me. I will enjoy what I have while I have it. It is the Gypsy way. My way.”

Kira's expression betrayed how troubled she felt. “That's not good enough. Not for you, Marna.”

Marna shrugged. “It will have to be.”

“We'll have to see about that.” She suddenly smiled as she linked her arm with Marna's. “But right now, we'll follow your Gypsy philosophy and enjoy ourselves. It's been a long time since I've been free to do that, and there's no one who knows how to do it better than the Romany.”