Dragons Among Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice) (17 page)

Haste, for them, had always been a necessity. Brief encounters shared behind closed doors and in utter secrecy was all they knew, all they’d ever known, since first becoming lovers. But as he collapsed onto the bed beside Rosalind and turned to place a gentle kiss upon her forehead, she knew there would never be another to understand her better than Quinn.

Soon their days of secrecy would be over. With her upon the throne in Edana, and Zayne’s family eliminated, she would bring Quinn alongside her to be king. Not until they ruled side by side would she acquiesce and allow him to show her the gentleness a queen deserved.

“What has happened that you would seek me out in the middle of the day, my lover?” she asked softly.

Quinn’s gaze met hers. “A scroll arrived for the king. One that threatens to disrupt our plan.”

“Oh? From whom?”

“Berinon, Edana’s high wizard.”

Rosalind rolled to face Quinn and propped herself on one elbow. “Do not leave me in suspense, man. What did it say?”

“That Prince Zayne and the girl have been to visit him.”

“And what did they ask of him? For a binding spell to nullify our betrothal? A potion to make my father forget of our engagement?”

“Mysteriously, no.” Quinn’s gaze shifted from hers as he sat up. “They came seeking help in sending the girl home, but the wizard insists your father see them first. He wrote, ‘The curse has been broken, the one you seek has been found.’”

“Curse? What curse?” Rosalind shook her head. Wizards and their damned riddles. “And found whom? The
girl
? What would my father want with some silly woodland peasant?”

“I do not know.” His voice was low and calculating. “But if our plan is to work, we must keep her safe from your father’s clutches.”

“Safe from his, but not from ours.”

An appreciative smirk tugged at Quinn’s lips. “Precisely. Though what am I to do with the scroll? It threatens to complicate matters entirely, but to destroy it would be punishable by death.”

“Not a soul in the land is powerful enough to destroy you, my warrior. And besides, I would never allow it. Destroy the scroll and leave my father in the dark once more.”

“Your father would strike me down whether you allow it or not, princess. Though, what he does not know cannot be used against me.” His gaze shifted to a nearby window, the scarlet glow now extinguished from his eyes. “And what of the wizard? Berinon would never meddle in affairs of no value to him.”

“Perhaps the girl is worth more to us than we know.” Rosalind sat up and followed Quinn’s gaze to the window. Outside, the sun began to dip beyond the horizon. “Edana’s castle walls have ears. I shall obtain the girl’s location so you may bring her here. We shall extract the truth from her together.”

“And if the truth is to our displeasure?” he asked, an evil grin snaking across his lips.

“Then we silence her.” Rosalind crawled onto Quinn’s lap and nipped at his chin. “Forever.”

Chapter Twenty

Addie climbed the stairs leading to her borrowed room and tried to ignore the exchange of harsh whispers between Zayne and Emeline behind her. Relief had washed over the older woman’s countenance upon glimpsing her prince in the foyer, but just as clear on her face was the look of disapproval at spying Addie there beside him.

Addie could relate—she’d hoped to have long since returned to her hotel.

But that hadn’t happened. So instead of heading for a shower in her own world, complete with hot, running water, bottled body wash and her bright pink bath scrunchie, Addie was headed back toward her guest room, where someone was supposedly preparing a bath for her. She hoped like hell the tub would be larger than a wash basin and the water would stay warm long enough for her to take a good long soak. Not only did she relish the idea of washing away two days’ worth of sweat and grime, Addie also needed some time to unwind. Maybe then she could think clearly enough to make sense of all that Berinon had said.

She reached the top of the stairs and turned toward her room, but Zayne’s hand caught her arm. Addie turned to find him staring at her, his golden eyes dark and unreadable.

“Speak to no one of where we went or what you were told,” he said, a commanding tone in his low voice. “If they ask, tell them you were with me, and that our group fell under attack. Not a word more.”

“And the others? Have they returned yet?”

“Yes.”

“H-how many?”

Zayne looked toward the stairwell. “All, save Korey.”

Addie winced as guilt washed over her anew. “Zayne, I—”

“Not a word to anyone.” With that, he turned and headed down the hall to his room, leaving her behind to wonder what had gotten into him. The protective, caring Zayne had disappeared the moment they arrived back inside his family domicile. Was it finally sinking in that he’d lost one of his own, or was he as irritated as Emeline clearly was to be stuck with her for three more days?

And why did it hurt her so much to see him walk away without looking back?

With a sigh, she continued on to her own room. A servant girl was there, adding water from a kettle into a large wooden tub. “Shall I help you with your dress, miss?” she asked.

“No,” said Addie. “Thank you.”

The servant curtseyed and exited the room, leaving Addie alone for the first time in what felt like forever. She stripped out of her scratchy disguise and the jogging outfit beneath. Would she ever get to wear normal clothes again? A real bra instead of the sports one she’d been crammed into all this time? A pair of jeans, or even a comfy tee?

Addie dipped her hand into the tub and found the water to be only three or four inches deep. And though it felt hotter than her normal baths, she climbed in anyway. The water scorched her skin, eliciting a sharp intake of breath as she stepped one foot in and then the other. Slowly she sank down, letting the bath’s lavender scent wash over her and soothe her weary muscles.

Unfortunately, in the quiet of her room she had no distractions to keep her mind busy, and images of the past day assaulted her in reverse order.

Memories from the park. Berinon. Today’s long journey. Her night with Zayne.

The attack at Forath’s wall. The arrow in Korey’s chest.

Addie reached for the bar of lye soap waiting on the tub’s ledge. She scrubbed her body, her face, her hair, trying to wash away filth and memories. A man was dead because of her. She scrubbed harder and harder, but the images of his dead eyes, his blood pooled on the ground, refused to go. Finally, after pouring cup after cup of hot water over her head to rinse soap from her hair, the gruesome scene playing in her head began to fade.

Both mentally and physically exhausted, she leaned back to rest her head on the tub’s edge and lay still. What else could she do? Addie was trapped in a world she neither knew nor understood, a world she’d supposedly been to before, yet had no memory of. And all of that had come from a wizard who had just openly admitted he’d been at the park that day, watching the whole ball rescue scene unfold.

But why had he taken her watch and not tried to track her down and return it? How had she not seen him there—surely he would have stuck out in his wizard robes. Or had he been in disguise that day? And how many more days could he have been there, watching her?

Addie frowned at the ceiling. She’d hoped the bath would help bring her clarity. Instead, all it had brought were more questions. Questions for which she was beginning to fear the answers…

* * * * *

Zayne lay awake, unable to silence his mind after the earlier encounter with Berinon. He stared at the canopy over his bed, hearing the wizard’s accusation again and again in his mind.

“…as you are so ready to lay down your life for your mate…”

How had Berinon known when Zayne himself had yet to realize the fact?

Ah, but it was true. Being with Addie was like standing in quicksand—with every word from her lips or touch of her hand, he sank deeper and deeper in love with the fair maiden. Though he knew it couldn’t be, oh how he longed to make her his. To bond as mates for the rest of their days and need never let go.

Not in all his twenty-plus years had the prince encountered a woman who could ignite fire inside his veins with but one look. Rosalind, the woman to whom he’d already been sworn, elicited no such response inside him. While he’d spent but fleeting moments with the princess this past year, his men had gathered information about the woman on his behalf. Time and again, the stories that came back were all the same: the woman was cold, calculating, and hungry for power—everything Addie was not.

His marriage to Rosalind would be the death of him. Not physically, perhaps, but Zayne feared that over time her icy demeanor would inevitably freeze his heart. When that time came, he’d be no better than his father. A physical death would be more welcome.

Was that why he longed for Addie now? Ached for her gentle touch and soothing words because all too soon he’d be tethered to a wife by virtue of definition, not by love?

When he could stand being apart from her no longer, Zayne rose and drew on a pair of silken pants. In silence, he passed down the hall to her room. As quiet and fatigued as she’d been at dinner, he was certain his fair maiden would have long since been asleep. His intentions were not to wake her, but to steal a glimpse of her beautiful face as he had the night before. Asleep, she looked innocent as a lamb, though he knew the tigress she could be in his arms.

He ached for her in a new way now. To hold her again, to taste her. But he wouldn’t disrupt Adelaide’s sleep to meet his selfish needs. The wizard advised them to stay hidden for three more days, and Zayne intended to spend as much time with her as possible—whether Emeline approved or not.

Three days, he thought with eager anticipation. If Fate smiled upon them, he’d hold Addie naked in his arms again soon enough.

No light shone from under her door. He stole silently inside expecting to find Addie in bed fast asleep. Instead, she stood before her room’s open window, the vision angelic. Moonlight washed over her, turning her thin, silken gown a glowing white against the shadow of her otherwise naked profile. She’d left her long hair down after bathing, and the scent of lavender greeted him as the golden waves fluttered in the night’s breeze. Zayne drank in the sight, his earlier plans to steal but a glimpse of her quickly fading away. In haste, he turned to latch the door from the inside, to prevent the entry of unwanted guests.

She turned at the sound, and he was dismayed to see her cheeks wet with tears. Zayne crossed the room and took her gently into his arms. Addie remained silent as she laced her hands around his waist and sighed against him. He didn’t push her to speak—Zayne knew her well enough now to know she’d do so when she was ready. Until then, he would offer her comfort, reassurance.

Love.

After a long moment, she pulled back and wiped at his damp chest with a grin.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

Zayne tipped her face toward his and bent to kiss away the tears on her cheeks. On her lashes. Her warm breath washed over his neck, and the fire in him ignited once more. To soothe her was to please her, and that he knew how to do and do well. His lips pressed to her cheeks, the corners of her mouth, her chin. She arched into him, her silken gown gliding along his bare chest. Zayne braced her back with one hand and cupped one of her breasts in the other. She drew in a sharp breath as his thumb traced over her peak, and he took that moment to claim her mouth with his.

Addie’s hands left his waist to weave up into his hair and pull him tighter against her. The lamb was gone, he realized with delight, and the tigress awakened. She opened her mouth and let him explore, their kiss deepening. When finally they broke free to drag in ragged breaths, she released his hair and slowly slipped to her knees. In the moonlight, her fair skin appeared nearly white against his as she removed his clothing. She grasped his cock with her ever-cool hands, and it was his turn to draw in a sharp breath. He drew in another as she took him into her mouth. Slow and methodical, she slid her lips down his length then up, down and up. Her pace accelerated, and the pressure increased. Her tongue flitted and lapped at his shaft all the while.

His fingers wove into her hair, coaxing her to continue. In the deep recesses of his mind, Zayne knew he should stop her, should ease from her mouth and return his focus on trying to please her instead. But as he’d never experienced such an act, he didn’t dare break her concentration. The room around him soon began to sway, and Addie pulled back to look up at him, concern in her wide, crystalline eyes. Before she could ask if he was all right—he’d grown accustomed to her ways by now—he lifted her off the floor and carried her in his arms to the bed.

Carefully, he lay her upon the mattress, removed her gown, and began to explore her body with his mouth. Her neck, her breasts, her waist, the V between her legs. When his tongue flicked over her hard, wet nub, she sucked in a startled breath and tried to pull away from him. But now was no time for her to plead modesty, and he held tight to her smooth thighs and licked her again. He watched as the fight in her body was quickly replaced by desire, and Addie whimpered as she arched up with need.

Over and over, he lapped at her, his fingers pressing into her velvety folds. He didn’t tease but drove her straight to climax, eager to be inside her once again. She bit back a scream as the orgasm washed over her, the sight of which nearly drove Zayne mad with desire. The moment she stilled, he rose to his knees and eased inside her. Zayne nearly came with a single thrust, but he held back, refusing to rush the moment. Instead he rocked his hips in time with hers, intentionally keeping their pace slow and steady.