Threads of Desire (Spellcraft)

Chapter Two

She didn’t know why she’d come. Curiosity. Avarice. Desperation. Lust. None of them good reasons, yet here she was, sitting across from Kal in the courtyard of his home. Dining with him.

There was that. If nothing else, she had a free meal, a feast really, spread across a satin-draped low table. Crusty, soft-centered bread and platters of cold meat. Colored glass bowls filled with cut fruit and set in ice to keep the contents cool while they “discussed the particulars of their arrangement.” They’d yet to speak a word about their bargain, but her stomach was very full.

Drink.”

He’d been pressing food and wine on her all evening. This was a dessert wine, the final course before the table was cleared. The goblet was hammered gold and beaded with condensation. Slowly, she lifted it to her lips, regarding him over the rim.

Arms outstretched, he leaned against the plush cushions, glittering eyes tracking the movement of the cup. They fixed on her mouth for a moment before lifting to her eyes. It was unnerving the way he looked at her, so openly appreciative and completely unashamed of his desire.

She took a tentative sip. Cool liquid. The light, sweet flavor exploded on her tongue. Ulla. She wanted to moan in appreciation but kept that reaction to herself. After all, his offering was a deliberate choice. His family’s extraordinary wealth came from the Ulla trade. The Azi family owned all of the vineyards that produced the rare grape. This was by far the finest wine she’d ever tasted, and a gentle reminder of who she was dealing with.

We could dine like this every night, if you like.”

I’m not joining your harem.”

He turned his head to hide a smile, flicked a tassel. “Harem,” he repeated with a small laugh. “Is that what you think?”

A ridiculous question. What else was she to think? His home was a palace. The courtyard garden alone could produce enough food to feed ten families, but there were only fragrant flowers in the beds opening now to the cool night air. His servants wore far finer clothes than she’d seen on anyone but him. What was she to him other than a plaything? A momentary curiosity. And she was only here to see if she could leverage that interest to her advantage.

He lounged on cushions while she knelt across from him with her hands folded in her lap. He’d invited her to join him on pillowed silk but she’d refused, preferring to keep the square food-laden table between them.

I saw what you did,” he said. “For Seli. Calef would have taken his hand if he’d caught him stealing silver again.”

Calef would turn her out if he knew she’d sheltered the sticky-fingered little orphan. Her palms began to sweat, but she resisted the urge to wipe them dry. Instead, she lifted her chin and met his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Jas tossed Hekan’s booth looking for the rat, but he never thought to look beneath your skirts. A remarkable oversight, that. It would have been the first place I looked given the excuse.” He set his goblet on the low table, torchlight gleaming on the ebony band at his wrist, but that wasn’t what caught her attention. His sleeve pulled back just far enough to reveal a strip of taut golden skin covered with springy black hair. He was the kind of man who would have hair on his chest. He must shave his face twice a day if he planned to go out in the evening.

A low chuckle brought her gaze up. “Why did you do it? A man who has no qualms about beating a child won’t hesitate to abuse a woman. He’s a dangerous enemy.”

She searched his face. “Is this about blackmail?”

Only a friendly conversation.”

We’re not friends.”

His face hardened and for the first time tonight, she could see past his civilized mask. What she saw scared her. She was suddenly, excruciatingly aware of her vulnerability, and all of the daring plans she’d made about exploiting him melted like wax in the sun. She’d thought to grab hold of his lust and use it as a leash to tame him, but there was more than simple lust in his eyes. There was patience, intelligence and a complicated desire that she could barely understand, let alone hope to use. He was Kalar of House Azi and she was a poor woman he’d plucked from the streets for his own unfathomable reasons.

This was a mistake. A terrible mistake. She climbed to her feet, sputtering some excuse about how it was time for her to leave, but he stood too. Moving faster than she would have credited, he came around the table to stand in front of her, blocking her way. His fingers slid behind her neck, thumb settling beneath her jaw.

I wouldn’t blackmail you.”

You would.” A man like Kal, an aristo, wouldn’t be above blackmail. She knew all about powerful men and how far they would go to have their way.

We’re being blunt now, are we? Very well. I don’t want to be your friend, Ily.” His free hand found the slit in her tunic and then hooked in the sash at her waist. “Or your savior.”

Hot skin, the cool slide of the ebony band at his wrist. And she waited, fear and excitement warring inside her. He paused, the backs of his knuckles stroking the vulnerable skin of her belly as his dark eyes searched her face. Was he waiting for permission to go further? She’d already offered herself.

I can’t afford to give you a cut on my profits. Even if the rugs sold for full price, by the time I paid you and the vendor, I’d lose money.” She wet her lips and his gaze fixed momentarily on her mouth. He wanted blunt, she could do blunt. “I want you to help me sell the rugs and I want you to waive your fee.”

She didn’t move, not when his hand dropped from her neck, not when—with excruciating slowness—he began to push her skirts down over her hips.

The offer you made me earlier, it still stands?”

I thought that was understood.”

A smile, self-mocking and faint. “No, Ily. When I touched you in that alley, I only wanted to be certain you understood exactly what you were offering. I wanted you to consider it carefully before you came here tonight. You can’t propose such things lightly. The next man might not let you go.”

You didn’t,” she whispered, remembering his body, his hand, rough fingers tunneling into flesh. “You—”

He looked up, eyes glinting like diamonds. “I let you go.”

His thumbs dipped to the inner curve of her thighs, stroked slowly over sensitized flesh. “And you came back to me.”

She could leave now and he wouldn’t stop her. He was giving her a chance to run away. He practically dared her to do it. But she didn’t. And that was on her. She saw her chance to escape but didn’t take it. Instead, she stayed frozen in place, trapped like a snake by his eyes and the slow moving pull of his hand. As her skirt slid down her thighs, his open hands followed, the touch of his palms light as the whisper of fabric falling from her body. He touched her softly, reverently. The crease where hip met thigh. The edge of dark curls. She was damp, tingling with readiness, hot and needful. And he held back, even though she could see a matching hunger in his dark eyes.

He only touched her sex when she whimpered and arched restlessly toward him. Then he cupped her as if he had every right to, explored her gently, pressing his other hand to her back and lifting her into him while his fingers split her open. While he drank down every shift in her expression. The flush she felt rising to her cheeks. Her sharp exhalation of held breath.

His fingers found her * and circled it slowly until she began to move with him.

That’s it,” he murmured and increased the pressure just enough to make her frantic.

He pinched her lightly and she jerked against his body. When she might have pulled away, he simply resumed that rolling caress. Lifting her hands to his chest for balance, she tilted her hips to allow him better access. He eased a finger inside of her. Earlier she’d admired the single ring he wore, extravagant but too well crafted to be truly vulgar. It was thick and heavy, carved with his family’s crest. She could feel it now, scraping against her skin. He twisted his arm, sinking another finger inside of her while he ground the heel of his hand against her *. She could feel her own wetness on his skin when he turned his wrist to find a better angle. Her thighs parted to accommodate him, her body stretched around his fingers, melting onto him.

He set the pace, slow and steady but no longer gentle. Demand not seduction. And nothing for himself. When she reached for his cock, fingertips brushing against the hard solid length of his shaft, he pulled his hips away.

I want you to come for me, Ily. I’ve wanted to see you laid bare and open since the moment I met you.”

She was too far gone to wonder at that, her body pulling tighter and tighter like knotted thread.

He kissed her temple, brushed his lips across the crest of her cheek, dipped lower to taste the side of her neck when she turned her head. She made the mistake of looking at him. The wicked tilt to his smile, the ruthless cast to eyes.

Yes,” he said. “Let go, I have you.”

It was embarrassing how quickly her body leaped to answer him. As if it belonged more to him than her, as if it always had. His face blurred in her vision and her whole body trembled. She pulled at his shoulders and lifted toward his body, everything inside of her rising with the motion. His fingers pushed deep and held there as she came around him, shuddering and biting at her lip to keep from crying out. Her eyes had shut tight so she wouldn’t have to see the look on his face, but she couldn’t block her ears from his soft laughter.

Oh gods, what had she done? She knew better than to find herself in such a position. She truly did. He removed his hand and gathered her clothes while she stared at his bowed head. Thick black hair, expertly trimmed. It looked clean and sleek. She’d barely touched him. She wanted to know the texture and taste of him. And this...it was over too quickly. Like catching a raindrop on her tongue when she was dying of thirst. His gaze angled up from beneath a fringe of ridiculously long eyelashes. Amusement there. Hunger. Triumph.

He tugged at the rough cloth of her skirt and began to set everything to rights, folding the top down twice as if he’d dressed her a thousand times. The pocket created by the cloth was empty now and had been for some time. He retied the sash at her waist, his fingertips lingering for a moment on her exposed skin before falling away. And then, for the second time that day, he simply let her go.

As he stepped away, she took a deep breath to collect herself. Her thoughts were as unmanageable as rats fleeing floodwater. Somehow, she’d need to regain the upper hand. She wanted more of him and, clearly, he wanted her as well. He enjoyed playing with her at least, and if she could engage him as a business partner, then...

He started walking toward the door and her head snapped up. He did want her, didn’t he?

Come back tomorrow and we’ll discuss terms.” He paused in the shadows, eyes glittering as he glanced back. “Or don’t. Your choice, Ily.”

* * *

Kal watched her go, watched the guard he’d dispatched to see her home safely slide through the shadows behind her. Moonlight touched her hair, streaking it with silver.

You left her to run away weeping?”

He didn’t turn.

She won’t weep.”

She came to you as a whore.”

Yes. I know.”

She’s not the woman you think she is.”

She’s angry. She’ll curse me tonight, sanctify herself in the fountains of Risa at dawn, avoid me in the marketplace tomorrow and be back here again by nightfall.”

And then you’ll tell her?”

He made a soft sound of denial. “I will bind her to me as tightly as I can manage it before I tell her anything.”

A long pause as Rael, his most trusted servant, moved around the room lighting the oil lamps. “I hope you’re right.”

I always am.”