Amy's Advantage (21 page)

“But—”

Amdyn raised his hand and cut off Shy’s response. She
snapped her mouth shut and glared at him. “Furthermore, I agree with him. She’s
safer at the moment with no one knowing where she is, including me. End of
discussion.”

The friendly burbling of the coffeemaker seemed oddly out of
place as background to the silent clash of wills between Amdyn and Shy. Shy
didn’t cower under his look, but she didn’t advance under it either. The taut
silence in the room pushed in on Ellen’s mind as fury radiated out of Shy.
Though it crackled around her in a field of angry, pulsing energy, it left
Amdyn unfazed. He didn’t even really look all that angry.

To Ellen, his expression was much scarier than simple anger.
His face looked as if it had been chiseled from stone, about as yielding as an
iron mountain. How did one fight with a mountain?

Amdyn’s eyes remained locked on Shy’s. “Do you understand?”

Shy’s eyes narrowed and her lips pressed together into a
thin line. But as everyone else in the room, she remained otherwise motionless
before the clear power and force of Amdyn’s authority.

Cirryc strode into the room. “Whad-up, bitches?” Drawing out
the final word for emphasis, he threw his greeting out before him loud and
oblivious to the scene that had just taken place. After a swift glance around
the kitchen, his smiling swagger disappeared. “What did I miss?”

The tension broke as Amdyn sat back in his chair and took
another drink of his coffee, frowning at Cirryc.

Still seething, Shy stood and left without sparing a word or
look at anyone. Cirryc quickly sidestepped out of her way.

“Perfect timing as always,” Kayn said. He moved to follow
Shy’s path out of the kitchen, but stopped to pat Cirryc on the shoulder. “Yo,
bro
,
you need to lay off the reality TV.” He took the mug of coffee Kirry held out
to him, thanked her and left as well.

“We were discussing Jordyn and Amy,” Kirry explained. “Would
you like some coffee? I just made a new pot. I also have the water on for tea.”

“No thanks,” Cirryc said, opening the refrigerator and
choosing a Coke from the variety Kirry kept stocked there. He popped the top
and sat in the chair Shy had abruptly vacated. “So what’s wrong with Shy?” he
asked Amdyn.

“Nothing. She just wants answers I can’t give her.”

“Have you heard anything from Jordyn?” Ellen asked Cirryc,
hopeful since Cirryc had seemingly been Jordyn’s right-hand man since she’d
arrived.

“No, but I didn’t expect to.”

“Why not?” she asked. “I’d have thought you’d be the first
person he contacted.”

“Uh uh,” Cirryc grunted around a long swallow. When he
finished, he set the can on the table and slouched back in his chair, hooking
his thumbs into the front pocket of his jeans. “If you don’t know who you can
trust, trust nobody.”

“What’s that?” Ellen asked. “SOP?”

“Jordyn doesn’t put much stock in standard operating
procedures. Says they’re too predictable,” Cirryc said. “Good in their place,
but not when dealing with an enemy. Might as well hand them a roadmap into the
heart of your operation.”

“So, since everyone assumed you’d be whom he would contact,
you’d actually be the last?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Maybe. Who knows?”

“How can he run a mission when no one knows what to expect?”
she asked, exasperation threading through her words.

“The mission is to find and return all Magdalyne’s daughters
to Ilyria safely,” Amdyn said. “With the escalation of attacks both by Slayers
and Predators and a Sleht infiltration somewhere in our ranks, he’s going to do
whatever it takes to accomplish that.”

Cirryc nodded in agreement. “Hell, if Amdyn weren’t here
with you, Jordyn probably would have taken you with him as well.”

Ellen blinked. “If Amdyn weren’t here?” Uneasily, she spared
a quick glance at the man who had laid claim to her weeks—years—before. “What’s
that supposed to mean?”

“The safest place for an Ilyrian woman is with her mate.”
Cirryc made the comment dispassionately, as if it were as common to one’s
knowledge as the sun rising in the east.

“But what if it’s her mate who’s the traitor?” she asked.

“First, I don’t believe that can happen. A man could not
knowingly place his mate in danger and danger is all the Sleht are. No matter
what else might be driving him, it would be impossible for him to let her come
to harm if it is in any way his power to prevent it.” With a shrug, he finished
off the remaining Coke in the can and tossed it into a bin by the back door.

“Why impossible? Of course it’s possible.” Annoyed by
Cirryc’s nonchalance and the reappearance of the whole
because I’m your mate
argument, her words were sharp and accusatory.

Cirryc frowned at her and leaned forward on the table, an
echo of Amdyn’s earlier posture. “Not true,” he said. “When an Ilyrian male
binds himself to his mate, there is nothing he won’t do to keep her safe. It’s
in our blood. A part of who we are.” His words were heavy with the zealous
conviction of true belief.

“But what if—”

Cutting her off with a terse shake of his head, he said,
“There are no buts. No ifs. There are a lot of things we’ve adapted to or
modified over the centuries. But not this. When we take a mate, it’s a vow that
comes from the center of our being. Everything in an Ilyrian man’s life comes
back to his mate and through her, his children. Nothing is as important as our
mate and we will spend our last breath protecting her.”

His intensity surprised her. Rarely, outside of a few tense
moments here and there when he’d been talking about some skirmish against the
enemy, had she ever seen Cirryc take anything seriously. Certainly she never
thought she’d hear him make a speech like that. She sat back in her chair, not
knowing how to respond. She turned to look at Amdyn.

It was a mistake.

The man was staring at her, his blue eyes focused on her
with an engulfing passion and promise that took her breath away.

“You are mine,” he said, his words deliberate and solemn.
“Now. Forever. To protect. To cherish. Body, heart and soul. Until the last
second of my life.”

Damn him. Every time she thought she had a handle on him, he
did something to shift the solid ground she had been standing on right out from
under her feet.

She shifted her gaze back to Cirryc. “W-what does that have to
do with Jordyn?” she stuttered, trying to get them back on track and out of the
quicksand of this particular conversation.

“The only thing I can tell you for sure,” Cirryc said,
pushing back from the table, “is that you don’t want to be on the side Jordyn
isn’t.”

Chapter Twelve

Jordyn watched the glow behind the numbers switch from lower
to higher as the elevator traveled up to the sixteenth floor. It was later than
he wanted to be getting back, but he’d taken extra precautions all around.
Earlier, he’d spoken to Amdyn only long enough to reassure him that all was
well with Amy and to check that Chloe had made the transition without any
problem.

After the meeting with Amdyn, he’d made a quick phone call
back to the hotel to let Amy know that everything with Chloe was fine. There
was a breathlessness to her voice he hadn’t been able to place, but when he
inquired, she explained that she’d been in the tub and had to run across the
suite to get to the phone.

The image of her being naked and wet while she talked to him
on the phone short-circuited his thoughts for a minute. When he got back on
track, he cut the conversation off with a couple of abrupt assurances of
Chloe’s health and well-being and clicked off before Amy could say anything
else.

He didn’t know how she so easily distracted him, so he
focused on what he did know and ignored everything else. Chloe was safe, she
was with Aurora and Connyn and that was all that mattered. That and making sure
her mother was safe as well.

The moment Chloe had been across the portal, he’d taken off
down the mountain toward Amy. He’d assured her earlier that her daughter was
fine, but now he could back it up with the information Shy had from Ilyria.
According to Amdyn, Shy’s connection in Ilyria informed her that Chloe had made
the leap into another world without hesitation and had adapted to her new
surroundings with all the resilience of the young. Not only was the child safe,
she was thoroughly enjoying being the center of attention among entire palaces
of new aunts and uncles.

Amy would join her in less than a week. Just over three days
to be exact. Though no one knew that.

The doors slid open and he stepped out into the plush
hallway. He didn’t like having Amy out of his sight. Regardless of what he’d
been doing throughout the day, half of every thought seemed to be focused on
her. Except, of course, for those thoughts completely centered on her, which
right now seemed dedicated to images of her being naked and wet.

He’d watched her carefully through the night, waking her
hourly to check that the slight concussion she’d suffered was only that—slight.
Other than scrapes, bruises and her grumpiness at regularly having her sleep
interrupted, there hadn’t been any other effects from her fall.

As for him, it hadn’t been hard to stay awake. Last night,
all he could do was sit across from the woman who’d been driving him crazy for
weeks and look at her. After seeing her go over the edge of the cliff with the
Slayer, every moment watching her breathe was a gift from the gods. He didn’t
question why he felt that way. He was past trying to figure out the why. It
didn’t matter since it didn’t seem to be going away and in fact, only seemed to
be getting worse.

By this time today, he’d expected to be on the West Coast,
helping Siriyn find the last of the Mystic daughters. Expected that whatever
the reason he was feeling this way, it wouldn’t matter because she’d be out of
his life for good and worlds away, literally.

The circumstances that made any possibility of a
relationship a no-go from the start were out of his hands. They had been from
before he’d ever laid eyes on her. Just because the reasons hadn’t caught up to
Amy and him yet didn’t mean they wouldn’t. They would. Soon.

They were supposed to have by yesterday morning but now his
time in purgatory had been extended. Four days of being next to the one woman
he wanted, yet couldn’t have in his life. He wished like hell she was in Ilyria
and out of his life, but ironically, he knew there was only one thing he would
give up the next four days for—the absolute surety Amy could return unharmed to
Ilyria before then. Ensconced inside Connyn’s home, she and Chloe would be as
safe as they could possibly get.

Though he’d considered other options thoroughly, he couldn’t
bring himself to let her out of his protection until she returned to Ilyria.
They’d been careful and still information had leaked and leaked quickly.

He’d spoken to Myra, First-in-Command for Wyc Kilth, Heir to
the Second House, at length before she’d left for Ilyria with Wyc and Bethany
weeks ago. Even then, she’d had her suspicions about how the Sleht were getting
their information. She, like him, believed the traitor was part of the Royal’s
inner circle, perhaps even a Royal. But she’d had only intuition to go on and
wouldn’t hazard a guess as to which Royal might be conspiring with the enemy.

He didn’t blame her. Without irrefutable proof, he’d never
level an accusation either. Even with his own intuition churning with the same
realization, he couldn’t without a doubt point to anyone. And he would not move
on a member of the Houses he served until all doubts had been removed.

Until then, the best choice he had was to remove Amy from
contact with the Royals, even those whom he trusted. She’d be transferred to
Connyn’s care with Aurora, and whatever he might not like about the Heir to the
Third House, the man was a true warrior and would keep his family—Aurora, Amy
and
Chloe—safe. Of that, Jordyn had no doubt.

All he had to do was to keep Amy safe until then. Even if it
meant he was going to put himself through hell locked in a hotel room with the
woman, looking, but not touching. He’d survived torture, attacks and
deprivation in the course of his military career. At the moment, they all
sounded easier than what waited on the other side of the hotel door.

Pleased that the Do Not Disturb sign was in place as he’d
instructed, he knocked on the door. There was a padding of feet on the other
side. He made a mental note to remind her to walk silently up to the door
before looking through the peep hole. She shouldn’t allow anyone to know she
was in the room before she saw who was on the other side.

He heard the sound of the manual lock being undone but she
didn’t open the door for him or say anything. Instead, he heard the same
footsteps, muted by the carpet, retreat back into the room. Frowning, he used
his key card to let himself in.

“Amy?” he called, relocking the manual bolt.

“In here,” she answered from the bedroom area, sounding a
little out of breath.

Quickly he moved toward her voice, his hand sliding into the
pocket where he carried a gun as suspicion edged toward alarm. “Are you okay?”
he asked, rounding the corner into the room—and coming to a sudden stop.

A curse slid through his thoughts and between his lips at
the sight of Amy in a pink and white little piece of lacy nothing trimmed in
white feathers that matched the ones on her high-heeled shoes. In the strained
silence that followed his entrance, Amy smiled uncertainly at him, shifting her
weight from one foot to the other.

Finally he forced himself to blink. “What are you doing?” he
asked.

Amy’s eyes widened fractionally and her smile froze at his
tone. It only took a moment, however, for her to regain her composure. Lowering
her eyelids to a sultry half mast, she tilted her head to one side and purred,
“What do you think I’m doing?”

He couldn’t think much of anything thanks to the lust
hammering through his body. His frown deepened to a scowl as he tried to force
his mind to provide various answer options that would extricate them both from
this situation, but that part of his brain had effectively shut down.

Seemingly taking his inability to answer as something other
than the fight for sanity it truly was, Amy’s smile disappeared and she dropped
the hands that had been resting lightly on her hips as she abruptly closed the
distance between them to poke him in the chest. It flashed through his mind
that as irritating as that habit was of hers, he’d miss it once she was gone.

“I’m seducing you, asshole,” she said.

Jordyn’s laughter surprised him as much as it angered her.
She poked him in the chest again. Hard.

“It’s not funny. I’m trying to be sexy.”

Jordyn wrapped his hand around hers. At the feel of her hand
in his, the unexpected feeling of lightheartedness leveled and desire spiked.
“I’m not laughing at you.” His voice dropped as he said, “And yes, you’re very
sexy.”

Amy blinked up at him in surprise. Then she smiled and
stepped closer, her eyes glowing with pleasure. A dull thudding started to
pound in his ears.

She slipped her free hand into the front of his coat and ran
it up his chest. “So is my seduction working?” Her whispered question was a
feathersoft touch over his senses and drew him further under.

Somewhere from deep in his brain, a warning klaxon went off.
His hands flexed and he realized he was still gripping his gun. The heavy feel
of the cold metal in his hand brought him back to reality and the reason he was
in this room with her. To protect her, not to sleep with her.

He released her hand and slowly stepped back out of her
reach to lay the gun on the dresser. Leaning against the sleek piece of
furniture, he crossed his arms over his chest. Uncertainty had crept back onto
Amy’s face.

“It’s working,” he stated, his voice as detached as he could
manage, “but you don’t want it to. Once you take some time and think about it—”

“Shut up,” she demanded, all feathersoft tones gone from her
voice. “Just shut up. I have thought about it.”

She bridged the gap between them, and for a second, he
thought she was going to poke him in the chest again. If she touched him, he
wasn’t sure if he’d be able to disengage a second time.

Instead, her hands went back on her hips, now in tightly
balled fists and her chin jutted up at him. This position over the one where
she was actually touching him was worse because her stiffened posture thrust
her breasts out. The neckline of her outfit dipped daringly low and what was
covered of her breasts was
barely
covered by a thin pink lace that kept
few secrets. About the only thing he couldn’t see was the color of her nipples,
though the fabric clung in such a way that clearly defined the shape and size
of them.

A cold bead of sweat slipped between his shoulder blades,
and for a brief second, he regretted setting his gun down.

“Do you really think I haven’t considered this from every
angle?” she asked.

He could see she was getting wound up for a rant, but
suddenly she stopped and frowned at a place on the carpet as a thought struck
her.

“Although I haven’t asked you if you have any diseases,
sadistic tendencies, gross fetishes or abnormal growths.” She looked back up,
pinning him with her bright green gaze. “Do you?”

The question shocked an immediate negative response from
him.

Her face cleared and she nodded her head once, sharply, as
if that settled the entire affair. “Okay, now I have. It’s not like I’m asking
you to marry me. I just want to sleep with you, no strings attached.”

He should have been ecstatic that she only wanted sex
without adding in a commitment he was in no position to accommodate. Instead,
her statement didn’t set well at all with him.

Lines of worry creased her forehead. “Oh shit. Do you have
girlfriend?”

“A girlfriend?” he repeated, having a difficult time getting
past his reaction to her previous statement about no-strings sex and the
distracting way her breasts were rising and falling so close to him each time
she took in a breath.

“Girlfriend, mistress, significant other?” She squinted up
at him. “Boyfriend?”

That got his full attention. “No.”

She turned away, throwing her hands in the air. “Well then,
good god. What the hell is the problem here?” Her action sent the hem of her
tiny dress swishing around her hips, revealing a matching lace panty, nothing
more than a sheer layer of pink frosting over a delectable ass. The fact that
she was stomping around in high heels that did amazing things to her legs and
ass only complicated the situation. Another drop of sweat followed the first
down his spine.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex without batteries
and now that I have a few days with Chloe not attached to my hip and I’m stuck
in a hotel room with a man that flips my switch, he tells me I don’t want it?
Really?”

She wasn’t even looking at him anymore and he wasn’t sure if
her tirade was aimed at him or the universe. Either way, she didn’t give him
any room to comment as she paced back and forth in front of the bed, her arms
swinging wide with punctuating gestures that made her breasts bounce and
jiggle. Every time she spun around to change course in her striding, the hem of
her nightgown flipped up to tease him with a quick glimpse of the bottom curves
of her ass.

“I cannot get a freakin break. What does it take to get laid
anymore? Hell, I’m even dressed up in a damn baby-doll set with matching pumps
and the man is backing away.”

Stopping mid-turn, she looked at him over her shoulder. His
eyes shot up from where he’d been absorbed in the view her fluttering hem kept
playing peek-a-boo with to meet her glare. “Fucking
backing away.
” She
threw up her hands, completed the turn and continued to stalk back toward the
windows.

“I cannot get a break! I’m going to be jumping into another
world and who knows if they even date over there? I’ll go back to mommy-mode
anyway, and if history repeats, chances for sex become mighty slim. Plus, who
knows what I’ll be doing once I get there? Or where I’ll be living? Or what the
social scene is like? Maybe everyone over there already has a matched mate and
I’m just shit out of luck.”

She stopped at the corner of the bed and faced him, angrily
crossing her arms under her breasts. “All I wanted was to be able to take
advantage of these few days of freedom. To have some wild sex and maybe even go
to the aquarium or a nice dinner at a place that doesn’t have kiddy menus. Is
that really so much to ask?”