The Beloved Scoundrel

CHAPTER 15

It is going to be Moscow.” Gregor’s breath puffed in the frigid air as he added, “I do not understand it. How does she know the way? Niko said she is traveling as if she were following a map.”

“That’s not surprising,” Jordan said. “Her mother made her memorize the Jedalar. I’m sure she would have given her exact directions as to how to reach the other half of the puzzle.”

“It is very cold.” He cast Jordan a sly glance. “But we have seen no sign of wolves. That is good. They get very hungry during the winter.”

“Be quiet, Gregor.”

“I am only trying to protect the Jedalar.”

“I know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Wolves have sharp teeth and strong jaws that can destroy flesh and bone with one crunch. Just think what they could do with our precious glass panel. Perhaps you should send Niko ahead to keep her in sight.”

“I don’t want her to know we’re following her.”

“It is worth the risk. She is probably concentrating too much on an empty belly and keeping alive to look behind her.”

Jordan muttered a curse.

Wolves have sharp teeth.…

They had seen no wolves, dammit.

… and strong jaws that can destroy-

“Niko, go ahead,” he snapped. “Keep her in view, but don’t let yourself be seen.”

She has run out of food,” Niko said. “There was enough grass for the horse to graze today, but she made nothing to eat for herself when she camped last night.”

“She will probably come to a village soon.” Gregor bit into the tender piece of roasted rabbit. “And she has plenty of flesh on her bones. A few days without eating will not hurt her.” He pulled off a piece of meat from the spit and extended it to Jordan. “Have some more. There is plenty. The hunting was good today, and we still have six fine rabbits for tomorrow. There’s nothing like a full belly to make you sleep well.”

The bastard expected him to refuse. He took the piece of meat and ate it. Then he took another piece and ate that too.

“She is hungry.” Niko’s tone was laden with reproach.

“What do you expect me to do?” Jordan asked in frustration. “Go and deliver her supper to her so that she’ll know she’s being followed? We’re too close, dammit. She should be in Moscow in another week.”

“Yes, let her eat then. It is good for a woman to suffer,” Gregor said. “It humbles them and makes them aware of the sins they commit against us poor men. Is that not right, Jordan?”

Jordan gazed directly at Gregor and said with precision, “Quite right.” He got to his feet and stalked away from the campfire. He was sick of both of them and sick unto death of this long journey. He wanted it over.

If he wanted it over, what must she feel like? She believed herself alone in this wilderness. He knew loneliness. It was worse than hunger or fear.

Hunger.

With a low curse he turned, stalked back toward the fire, picked up one of the rabbits, and headed for the trees where the horses were tethered.

“Niko says she is camped by the river about four miles from here,” Gregor called after him.

Jordan reined in his horse in the woods a good distance from Marianna’s campfire. What the devil was he doing here? he wondered in exasperation as he slipped from his saddle and tied his horse to a tree. He grabbed the rabbit he had slung over his saddle and started through the forest. He had no idea how he was going to get this blasted animal to her without revealing his presence. Dead rabbits didn’t fall from the sky and into a cooking pot. He should have let her-

She was gone.

He stopped at the edge of the trees several yards from the brightly burning campfire. Her sheepskin pallet was spread before the blazing logs, but Marianna was nowhere in sight.

Alarm jolted through him. Where the devil was she?

Then he saw her.

She was standing barefoot in the shallows of the river, a spear carved from a gnarled tree branch in her right hand. Her gown was hiked and tucked into her waistband, and she reminded him vaguely of the Diana in the tapestry in the hunting lodge. She raised the spear, peering down at the moonlight-burnished water.

A glimmer appeared on the surface.

She struck!

And missed.

She waited patiently as minutes passed.

A shimmering movement to her right and she whirled, bringing the spear down with the same quickness as the trout she was stalking.

She missed again.

She waited again.

On the third attempt she was victorious.

He heard her cry of triumph as she held the fish high and waded back to the shore.

He faded into the shadows as she neared the campfire. In the flare of light she no longer looked the triumphant huntress. Her face was thinner than in their first meeting in Talenka and pinched with cold. She was shivering, her bare legs tinged blue from standing in the icy water. Lord, how long had she been in that river before he had arrived?

He took an impulsive step forward. He wanted to wrap her in warmth and safety, take away the cold and the hunger.

He stopped when she began tending to her own needs. She wrapped herself with a sheepskin blanket and sat down, rocking back and forth before the fire.

She continued in that manner for a long time before she was warm enough to turn and pick up the trout. It was a good-sized fish. She would eat tonight and perhaps tomorrow.

Jordan strode back to his horse. She had not needed him. She had adapted to the situation and provided for herself. She was as strong in her own way as his mother was in hers.

He mounted his horse and headed back to his own camp. It had been a long, cold journey for nothing. He should be annoyed and frustrated.

He should not be filled with this damned pride in her.

Jordan…

Marianna drowsily opened her eyes in the middle of the night with a strange sense of peace and contentment. Why had she been concerned? Everything would be fine. He would forgive her for what she had to do. This conflict between them was not of any real importance.

A sharp gust of wind ruffled the surface of the river and caused the fire to flare higher. She shivered as she came fully awake. She drew her blanket tighter around herself as a desolation swept through her that was colder than the wind.

A dream. She must have been dreaming.

Jordan would never forgive her, and she would never ask it. Their paths had parted and would never again be intertwined. She must become accustomed to that truth and arm herself against these agonizing moments.

But how did you arm yourself against a dream?

The fish is gone,” Niko said to Jordan. “And she has had to leave the river and go farther inland.”

He looked hopefully at Jordan.

Jordan said nothing.

“I have been thinking,” Niko said. “Mikel brought down several fat pheasants yesterday. I could go ahead of her and leave one of them on the trail for her to find.”

Jordan shook his head.

Niko frowned. “It would do no harm. She would still not know we are following her.”

“It would do harm.”

Niko uttered a low exclamation as he whirled his horse and sent it flying down the trail.

“Why would it do harm?” Gregor was studying Jordan’s face.

“Perhaps I want her to suffer.”

Gregor shook his head. “It is not vengeance. You would have helped her three nights ago.”

Jordan was silent a moment and then said, “She must do it on her own.”

“Why?”

“For God’s sake, we’re going to take away the fruits of her victory,” Jordan burst out. “I’ll be damned if I steal away the victory itself. Not one woman in a thousand could make this journey without help. She deserves to know she did it all herself.”

Gregor nodded understandingly. “Interesting. You are no longer angry with her?”

“Oh yes, I’m angry. I want to throttle her. That has nothing to do with this.”

“Interesting,” Gregor said again.

She has snared a rabbit.” Niko’s voice had as much pride as if Marianna had magically produced the animal from thin air. “It took her all day, but she did it.”

“That is good.” Gregor beamed.

Murmurs of approval came from the troop, and several gave smiles of relief. One young man made a face and exchanged money with another.

Gregor turned to Jordan and said, “I hope you are capable of subduing our dove yourself. I am not certain you will receive help from Niko or any of the others.”

Jordan knew what he meant. Over these weeks on the trail the troop had watched and gradually become caught up in Marianna’s struggle for survival. With every small victory she had won more of their respect.

The belka was no longer an outsider.

“And what about you?” Jordan asked Gregor.

“Kazan must be safe. I will do what must be done,” Gregor said. “Will you?”

“Yes.”

“You are sure? We are only two days’ journey from Moscow. The time to act is coming.”

And by God he would welcome it. His nerves were stretched to the breaking point with standing by and watching Marianna struggle against odds she was not prepared to meet. The conflict between them would resume, but at least this blasted journey would be over. “Don’t worry. When we reach Moscow, I’ll be ready to do what’s necessary.”

She did not go to Moscow. The next day she turned south and then rode west.

Niko came riding back to the troop just after noon. “She has stopped.”

“She’s made camp?”

Niko shook his head. “I think she has reached her destination.”

Jordan’s hands tightened on the reins. “Where?”

“Three miles from here. There is a village and, on the hill, a grand palace. She tied her horse outside the palace and went inside.”

“Did anyone come out to greet her?”

Niko shook his head. “The palace is deserted. It looks as if no one has been there for years.”

“Then I believe we can assume she has reached her destination.” Gregor glanced at Jordan. “Do we go after her at once?”

Jordan nudged his horse forward. “You’re damned right we do.”

She was here!

Relief poured through Marianna as she set down the cloth-wrapped Jedalar and leaned it against a wall of the foyer. Heaven knows, there had been times when she had thought she would not make it.

The palace was everything her grandmother had told her it would be.

She looked up at the curving green-and-white marble grand staircase to the long windows of the landing. A huge crystal chandelier wept glittering tears above her.

Emptiness.

Coldness.

It was as if the inhabitants of the palace had just walked out. The door had been unlocked, and no protective cloths covered the rich tables and chairs. Dust was everywhere.

She stiffened. An unlocked door?

Nebrov?

Fear rushed through her until she remembered that the doors at Cambaron had never been locked. No one dared to steal from the rich and powerful. If Nebrov had beaten her here, she would be facing him now.

She closed the door, and the sound echoed hollowly off the high ceilings. Nebrov was not here now, but who could say how much time she had? If she did not set to work at once, she would have to wait until tomorrow. The insertion must be done while the sun was still high.

Her brow wrinkled as she strove to recall the detailed instructions Mama had given her. The hall to the left should lead to the chapel. She picked up the Jedalar and moved quickly down the hall.

Jordan reined in his horse at the bottom of the hill. The bold rays of the midafternoon sun lit the palace, which shone with a rainbow of colors. It was truly an ice castle; snow and ice covered half of the gray marble structure that appeared more Greek than Russian with its classic pillars and graceful, low-roofed wings. Long icicles hung from eaves. Ice formed a mirrorlike surface on the stones of the courtyard and on the four steps leading to the front entrance. Even the bank of stained-glass windows that stretched across the front of the palace were frosted, each one glowing like an individual flame captured in crystal.

Marianna’s horse was tied to an ornamental post in the courtyard.

“The quarry is in sight,” Gregor said. “Do we storm the palace?”

“No, find quarters for the men in the village. I’ll go in alone.”

“Ah, what bravery, what self-sacrifice.”

Jordan ignored the flippancy. “And question the villagers about any newcomers who have arrived here. We don’t want Nebrov surprising us.”

“I will do better than that,” Gregor said. “I’ll send Niko to double back and watch for our demon friend.”

Niko groaned in mock despair.

Gregor ignored him, his gaze going from the palace to the fluted towers of Moscow. “This palace is very close to the city. It could be one of the exits for the tunnel.”

“I’ll place a sizable wager it is,” Jordan said.

Gregor turned to Niko. “Well, come along, my friend, let us get these men under a roof for the night. I am certain Jordan will summon us if we are needed.”

Niko grimaced. “You care nothing about getting me under a roof for the night.”

“I promise tomorrow night you will have both a warm fire and a dry roof.” He lifted his hand to Jordan. “I will come to you tomorrow morning to see if you have triumphed or merely survived.”

Jordan watched them ride down the hill toward the village and then again looked up at the palace.

She was there within those walls.

In a moment he would see her, talk to her.

He started up the road toward the palace.

She struck him on the back of the neck as he entered the front door!

Marianna was standing behind the door and would have hit his head if he had not seen the shadow of the club on the floor and whirled to face her. Even the glancing blow made him grunt with pain.

When she again tried to bring down the club, he grabbed it and tore it from her grasp. Her weapon turned out to be a tree branch. “Dammit, are you trying to kill me?”

She whirled and tried to run away.

He caught her by the hair, jerking her to a halt.

She did not cry out from the pain as another woman would have done. Instead, she turned her head and sank her teeth into his arm.

His grasp on her hair loosened, and she broke free. She dashed across the foyer toward the staircase.

He caught her on the sixth step and tumbled her to her knees. The next moment she was on her back, and he was astraddle her, pinning her arms above her head.

“Let me go!”

“The devil I will.”

“Fool,” she muttered. “I was a fool. I led you here. I should have realized…” She started to struggle again. “But you can’t have it!”

“Stop fighting. You’ll hurt yourself.”

She glared up at him. “Or you!”

“Not me,” he said thickly. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve begun to enjoy this.”

She froze as she realized the truth of his words. In her position she could scarcely miss the hard arousal pressed against her body. “You won’t rape me,” she whispered. “You wouldn’t do that.”

At the moment he wasn’t as certain as she seemed to be. The sudden physical struggle had released all the anger and frustration that had built over the months. He was having trouble thinking, and the mindless hunger was readying him. His hips moved in the most sensual of caresses, rubbing against her. “How can you be sure?”

A shiver ran through her. Her teeth sank into her lower lip. “I know you.”

“I thought I knew you.” His lips brushed her throat. She smelled of wind and pine and an acrid scent that was vaguely familiar. It didn’t matter. She also smelled of woman, and that scent was more arousing than any perfume. He licked delicately at the pulse in the hollow of her throat. “But that didn’t stop you from deceiving me and then trying to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t have done that. I was only trying to knock you unconscious. I had to stop you.”

His hips moved again. “From doing this? Why? You like it. Right now, you want nothing more than to wrap your legs around me. Isn’t that right?”

She drew in a deep, shaky breath. “Yes, that’s what I want, but I’m not going to do it. I’m not going to let you use me to rid yourself of anger. You won’t rape me, and I won’t be seduced.”

“We fought this battle at Dalwynd.”

“I’m stronger now.”

He studied her face. “Yes, you are.” He smiled. “But did it ever occur to you that will only make the battle more interesting for both of us?”

“Let me up. I feel as if I’m stretched on a rack.”

“Don’t you like it? I do. I can feel every muscle and soft place in your body. I think if I entered you from this position, you would find it very exciting. Do you remember what pleasure you received stretched over the arms of the chair? I can see the way-”

“Let me up.” She suddenly burst out, “If you’re going to rape me, do it!”

He would not have to rape her. She was already trembling and in need.

Her eyes blazed up at him. “Do it! Otherwise, let me be free of you.”

He did not want to let her free. He would never free her, he realized. Not in this lifetime or the next. The knowledge sent a wave of shock through him.

She stiffened. “What’s wrong?”

He couldn’t let her go, and if he tried to hold her, she would never stay. “There’s a good deal wrong,” he said grimly. “And I wish I hadn’t become aware of it in this particular instant.” He released her arms, then swung off her and moved to one side. “Get up.”

She lay still, surprised at the sudden victory.

“I said get up,” he repeated harshly. “And, for God’s sake, stop looking at me like that. It makes me want to-” He broke off and moved farther away on the wide step.

She slowly sat up and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Why did you-”

“It’s cold as Hades in here.” He stood up and started down the steps. “I’ll get wood for a fire. You’ve had a few hours to explore. Is there a small room that will be easy to heat?”

She indicated a door to the left of the foyer. “There’s a fireplace in that anteroom.”

He nodded, then said, “Don’t try to run away. Gregor and the men are in the village. We’ll track you down, if you do.”

“You needn’t worry. I can’t run away,” she said quietly. “Not until I do what I’ve come to do.”

The ax came down, biting into the wood.

Jordan struck again, hitting the log as if it were a mortal enemy.

Marianna shivered as she watched him from the window. She had been aware of his anger, and to see its release in violence was a chastening sight.

Chastening and vaguely erotic.

Vulcan.

He was as primitive as Vulcan wielding his hammer. She could see the bulge of muscle on his thighs as he braced himself before each blow, the pull of tendons in his shoulders beneath the black shirt. A wave of heat went through her as she remembered that moment when she had lain stretched beneath him on the stairs.

The hammer striking the anvil.

No, she would have been no passive anvil. She would have matched him blow for blow. She had felt her will melting with every touch, every moment that passed.

And he had known it. He always knew her every intimate response. He had known he could have her, and he had let her go.

Jordan stacked the logs in the fireplace, set the kindling, and struck flint. “What is this place?”

“The palace belonged to Czar Paul.”

“It looks as if no one has been here for a long time.”

“No one has. The czar was assassinated in 1801, and the royal family had no knowledge of this place. He had it built by the same workmen who built the tunnel.”

The kindling caught fire and flared. “And were later killed?”

“Yes.”

He sat back on his heels, looking into the fire. “The lock for the key.”

She didn’t answer.

He didn’t take his gaze from the fire as he asked quietly, “Where’s the Jedalar, Marianna?”

She might as well tell him. If he searched, he would find it anyway. “It’s in the chapel down the hall. Do you want to see it?”

“Not now.” He stood up and stoked the fire. “I hope you’ll give it to me later. I don’t want to be forced to take it.” He turned and strode toward the door. “Watch the fire. You must be hungry. I have food in my saddlebag.”

If he had only come an hour later… She wondered if she had time to run to the chapel and complete her work. No, she decided. What she had to do would take too long. And she must not be discovered until it was done.

No, that wasn’t the true reason. She wanted this time with him. When he found out what she had done, he would never want to see her again. It wasn’t too much that she take this little for herself.

The fire was burning brightly when he returned to the anteroom, and the chill had almost dispersed. He threw his saddlebags on the hearth and shrugged off his cloak. “I unsaddled your horse and put him in the stable. You shouldn’t have left him standing outside so long.”

She said defensively, “I was coming back to care for him when I saw you and Gregor down the hill.”

“And decided to remove my head from my body.”

“I told you I didn’t mean to harm you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Then you didn’t succeed.”

“Did I really hurt you?”

“You most certainly did.” He studied her expression. “I believe you’re displaying concern. How peculiar. You must be plotting something.”

“No.” She moved over to the saddlebags. “Not at the moment. I’m too hungry. If you’ll make a spit, I’ll skin the rabbit.”

“That’s why I brought in the branch you used to club me with. Sit down and rest. I don’t need help.” He looked at the dust-covered chairs and added, “You’ll stay cleaner if you spread your cloak on the floor and sit on that instead of those chairs.”

“I haven’t worried about cleanliness for weeks.” Still, she did as he suggested, then sat in front of the fire. She watched him as he began to whittle one end of the club. “Where did you send Gregor?”

“To the village. He’ll be back in the morning to see if I’ve survived.” His lips curved ruefully. “I’ll tell him it was not an easy task.” He looked from her face to the large round window gracing the wall across the room. The stained glass depicted a scarlet sun shooting out golden rays of light as it sank down behind purple hills. The sun pouring through the brilliant panes cast a long beam of multihued light that struck and formed a radiant circle on the oak floor in the center of the room. “That’s very beautiful. Your grandmother’s work?”

She nodded, her face lighting eagerly. “Grandmama did all the stained glass in this palace. Wasn’t she wonderful?”

“Yes.” He glanced at the window again. “But I think the work you did at Cambaron is better.”

Her eyes widened in astonishment. “You do?” Then she immediately shook her head. “No, that couldn’t be true. She was a magnificent craftsman. No one did better work than Grandmama.”

“Until Marianna.”

“Truly?” she whispered.

“Truly.”

Happiness surged through her. He meant it, and though it might not be true, it was wonderful to hear praise from his lips. “You should see her windows in the chapel. That’s where her best work is displayed.”

“And where you took the Jedalar.”

Her smile faded. Everything always came back to the Jedalar, casting a cloud over every joyful happening between them. “Yes.”

“Why?”

She looked away from him. “Do you wish me to skin that rabbit or not? I’ve gotten quite skilled at the art in the past weeks.”

For a moment she thought he was not going to allow the evasion, but then a smile lit his face. “I know.” He knelt on the hearth and drawled, “By all means. Such crudities are totally beyond me.”

Her spirits lightened as she recognized the lazy, mocking tone she had heard a thousand times at Cambaron. The coming conflict between them was inevitable, but it was not to be yet.

Eat.” He frowned. “You’ve had only a few mouthfuls.”

“I’ve had enough.” It was true she had eaten only a little of the rabbit roasting on the spit in the fireplace, but she was satisfied. Her appetite must have lessened due to the scant fare on the journey here. “You eat the rest.”

“You’ve got to be hungry. You’ve not had a bite since last night.”

“How do you know?” Then she shook her head as she guessed. “You were that close to me?”

He shook his head. “Niko.”

“I feel very stupid. I never realized anyone was following me.”

“You weren’t stupid. Niko is an expert tracker, and we stayed several miles behind. You did better than most men would have done.” He looked away from her into the fire, and the next words came awkwardly. “I was proud of you.”

Her eyes widened. “You were?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I suppose it’s due to a few unimportant qualities I’ve noticed in you. You never give up. You have a fine mind, and you’re brave as a lion. Oh, and one more reason.” He still was not looking at her. “Because you belong to me.”

She tensed. “I don’t belong to you.”

“Not yet. I have to make it so.” He looked up and held her gaze. “Will you wed me, Marianna?”

She stared at him, stunned. “Wed?”

“I’ve decided it’s the only way you’ll stay with me. You would never break your vows.”

Her astonishment caused her to blurt out the first thing that came into her head. “Your mother broke hers.”

“She had reason. My father was the worst kind of bastard. I’m not stupid enough to follow his example.”

“You don’t mean this.”

“Why not?”

“You’re the Duke of Cambaron. You know such a marriage is unacceptable.”

“You’ve been listening to that balderdash Dorothy has fed you,” he said roughly. “I accept such a marriage, and I’m the only one who counts. The rest of the world can go to perdition.”

She shook her head.

“Do you think you’re unworthy of me?”

She lifted her chin. “Why should I think that? I’m probably too good for you.”

He chuckled. “Then we agree.”

“But it’s not what I think. They will-”

“I’m tired of listening to what ‘they’ think.” His expression turned grim. “I want you as my wife and, by God, I’m going to have you.”

“Because I wouldn’t be your mistress.”

“I wouldn’t be satisfied if you consented to that now. I want more.”

“Why?”

He was silent, as if searching for words. “I love you,” he finally said haltingly.

She felt an incredible burst of joy. It was a miracle, an unbelievable gift. She wanted to-

It was unbelievable.

A deep thrust of pain tore through her as she realized how gullible she was to have had that initial response. She swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat. “How very convenient.”

He muttered a curse beneath his breath. “Convenient? I’ve never said ‘I love you’ to any woman before, and you say it’s convenient? It’s not convenient. Do you think I want this? It hurts like the devil.”

It did hurt, and the pain was growing with every moment. “You said I wasn’t stupid, and yet you expect me to believe you,” she burst out. “I won’t be duped again, Jordan.” She tightened her lips to keep them from trembling. “I always thought you honest. I didn’t think you’d lie to get me to give you the Jedalar.”

His eyes glittered with anger. “Christ, I can take the damned Jedalar. It’s here in this palace.”

“But you don’t know how to put the puzzle together. You need me for that.”

“I need you.” He added, “But not for that. If I have to do it, I’ll figure it out for myself. It’s not-” He stopped as he saw her expression. “I’m wasting my time. You don’t trust me.”

“Can you blame me?”

He smiled crookedly. “No, I suppose it’s too much to ask. It’s clear I’ll have to prove myself.”

She shook her head wearily. “There’s no time.”

“Nonsense, we have all the time in the world.” He took a few moments to subdue his exasperation and annoyance. “After we finish with this business, I shall set out to court you.”

After they finished with this business, he would not even wish to look at her. The thought sent a surge of panic through her. She wanted to reach out and touch him, fill herself with warmth to ward off that chill future. “No!”

His lips tightened grimly. “Resign yourself to it. I’m going to find a way to have you. I’m even willing to be as civilized and correct as even Dorothy could wish. What the devil else do you want from me?”

She said unsteadily, “I want what we had at Dalwynd.” She paused, then added, “Now.”

He went still. “Even though you have no trust in me?”

She nodded. “I don’t have to trust you to know that you will bring me pleasure.”

“Oh, I’m to be a toy for your pleasure?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted of me at Dalwynd?”

“Not entirely. As a matter of fact, during that period my motives were often muddled even to myself.” He shrugged. “But I have no objection to the role. You can be assured I’ll endeavor to please. Take off your clothes.”

She stared at him in bewilderment.

“Well, since you’re so eager, you surely didn’t expect me to waste time seducing you?” He started to unbutton his shirt. “You evidently have no need of sweet words.”

“I don’t remember you ever giving me sweet words.” The words of seduction he had spoken to her had all been raw and shimmering darkly with sensuality.

“But you listened to them with all the attention of an acolyte to Venus.” She became aware of the faint bite beneath his usual mockery. He stripped off his shirt. “I’ve never seen a woman so eager to be convinced.”

“You’re trying to hurt me.”

“Why should I try to- Yes.” His lips twisted. “But why should that make a difference?” He sat down and began to remove his boots. “A bit of conflict can be exciting as a prelude to bed play.”

It did make a difference. She did not want bitterness and pain to mar this last encounter.

“But perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps you want more from me.”

She had hurt him. No, she must not believe she had that power. She must not believe any of the things she desperately wanted to be true. In this place, at this time, he was the enemy. She took off her cloak and dropped it on the floor. “No, that’s all I want.”

“The devil you do!” His eyes were blazing. He took a deep breath, and she could almost see him put on the mask of mockery and sensuality. He leaned back in the chair. “Then you’ll have to shed more than that cloak. I’m beginning to get bored. Shall I help you?”

“No.” Her hands were trembling as she went to the fastening of her gown. “I’ll do it myself.”

“Ah, what an independent spirit you have. Have I ever told you how much I admire that quality?”

“Even while trying to crush it?”

“I never wanted to destroy your spirit. I just wanted to channel it so that no one could enjoy it but my humble self.” He stood up, shed the rest of his garments, and then resumed his seat, completely at ease in his nudity. “I visited a sultan in Morocco once who had a splendid palace in which to store his charming treasures. I did not envy him at the time.” His voice hoarsened as his gaze went over her now-naked body. “I do now. Would you walk to the center of the room?

“Why?”

“To please me. I promise I will please you in turn.”

She started slowly across the room. She was acutely aware of his gaze on the hollow of her spine, the curve of her buttocks. She abruptly stopped and turned to face him. “This is ridiculous. I feel like a slave on an auction block.”

“What a terrible experience for a woman of independence. I had no such intention. Just another few steps.”

She hesitated, and then she suddenly realized what he wanted. She took four more steps, and she was in the radiant circle of color formed by the sunlight streaming through the stained-glass window. She felt the warmth of the sun’s rays on her naked body.

“Splendid,” he said softly. “You look like a Nereid from beneath the sea.”

She glanced down at herself and felt a strange thrill. It was like looking at a stranger. Her body was crisscrossed by scarlet and gold lines and, where there were no brilliant streaks of color, soft muted pinks vied with lavenders. She wondered what color her hair was in this light. She reached up to touch it and then turned her head back and forth; her hair felt heavier and more sensual as it swung about her shoulders. Her entire body felt different, as if it belonged to someone else. “Nereids should be cool and blue.”

“Perhaps in the panels you fashion.” She heard him rise from his chair. “My Nereids bask in sunlight, and there is nothing cool about them.”

He stepped into the circle of color and became one with it.

Nude. Magnificent. Aroused. His cheeks were hollowed, and his light eyes shimmered as they looked down at her. “Isn’t this amusing? Tell me, do you suppose we look like figures in a stained-glass window?”

“No.” She swallowed. “Stained-glass windows must be on display.”

“And I’m a trifle shocking for public display.” His gaze went to her breasts. “And so are you, my love.”

She knew what he meant. She felt her entire body ripening and readying and a tingling ache beginning between her thighs as she looked at him. Lean, muscular, and streaked with fire, he was the most beautifully sensual creature she had ever beheld.

“You like this, don’t you?” he whispered. “And why shouldn’t you? When you were making your beautiful windows, you must have sometimes felt that you were part of them.” He paused. “Or wanted to be part of them.” He took a step closer. “And now you can.”

She was trembling. He was towering over her, and she felt small and helpless and completely woman.

He took her hand and brought it to his body. “I’ve always been jealous of your work. Did you know that?” He closed her hand around him. A shudder went through him as he held it in place. “You would never share it with me, and I wanted all of you.” His other hand went out to cup her breast. “You’re so tiny, your hand barely goes around me.” He urged softly, “Think how we look now. Imagine us as the figures in one of your panels.”

She was imagining it. She could see him…

Dear heaven, she could see both of them. Her breast was lifting and falling beneath his hand as his thumb teasingly flicked her nipple.

“Am I part of it?” he whispered.

“Yes…”

He smiled. “That’s not enough.” He suddenly lifted her, wrapped her legs about his hips, and plunged deep! “I want to be all of it.”

She cried out, her hands clutching his shoulders.

“Take me!” His voice was a guttural growl. His hips worked frantically back and forth as he held her sealed to him. “All of me!”

She was moaning, grunting, savagely trying to press closer, as if she were a different woman from the one who had stepped within that circle of light. She was vaguely aware of him falling to his knees and then pushing her down on the floor. The wood was cold on her back, but the sun was warm on her body, and Jordan was hot… His face was only a dark shadow above her, but his body was outlined in a fiery radiance.

Vulcan, she thought feverishly. Vulcan striking…

His dark hair had come loose from its queue and brushed her breasts with every thrust. “Think-of-me.” He punctuated every word with a deep plunge. “I need to be-”

“Be still!” she gasped. “I can’t think at all. I don’t even know what you-”

She arched upward as explosive release tore through her. She was aware of Jordan’s hoarse cry above her.

They lay there, joined, in the pool of light, while shudder after shudder ripped through them.

“And you think you can give this up?” he asked in a low voice.

He was the one who would give her up, she thought sadly. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She thought he was going to protest, but after a moment he said, “Very well. I suppose I’m satisfied with my progress to date. I hope my services proved satisfactory?”

She moistened her lips. “Let me up. I want to go back to the fire.”

“In a moment.” He swung off her and then lifted her to a kneeling position in the brilliant circle of light. “I have another window I want you to remember.” He knelt facing her, took her hands, and looked into her eyes. “It is true, you know. I do love you. I love your body and your mind and your soul.” He lifted her hand to his lips. “I want all of them. I’m sorry I don’t have much to give in return. I’m selfish and arrogant, and Gregor will tell you that my soul is constantly in jeopardy.”

He had a great deal to give. He had wit and courage, intelligence and honesty. She wished desperately to reach out and gather everything he was to her, but she could not do it. The risk was too great.

She said nothing.

He shrugged. “I see that you agree with him.” He drew her into his arms. “It will do you no good. Fate is definitely on my side.” His hand stroked the back of head, and he slowly rocked her back and forth. “Why else would we have been brought together, if not to belong forever? None of it would make any sense at all.”

She should not let him hold her like this. She had not expected tenderness. It was much harder to bear than passion, and would only make the parting harder.

She did not move. She could not give him up. Not yet.

Her arms tightened around him, and they knelt there until the last rays of the sun faded and the radiant circle slowly vanished from around them.