“Then what the hell is it?”
He sighed and thrust a hand through his hair. “It’s the connection we formed when we did the ceremony. There’s the possibility of it getting stronger if we continue to be sexually involved. I thought it best not to risk forming an unwanted, permanent attachment.”
Unwanted. The story of my entire life. Bitterness swirled but I somehow kept it contained and simply asked, “How serious an attachment are we talking about? More than just reading minds?”
He shrugged, frustration evident in his expression. “Possibly. It’s rare for the ceremony to be performed by someone not trained, and there’s really only vague warnings about permanent connections being formed.”
“Meaning the risk is one of both mind and heart if we’re sexually active over a period of time?”
“Yes, although how long that period needs to be is also rather vague.”
“Is it just you that runs this risk? It can’t be one-sided surely.”
“It’s not, but—”
“And is there a cure for this connection?” I cut in. “If it does indeed form?”
“Distance, according to the texts I’ve since read. But that doesn’t mean we should take such a risk until we’re sure it’s something neither of us fear.”
I leaned closer. He didn’t retreat, but he didn’t reach for me, either. The earthy energy that seemed to arise whenever we were too close burned the air, and it was a force that certainly seemed to be for a liaison rather than against it. “Commander, isn’t the possibility of one partner falling for the other and not having their affections returned something all lovers face?”
“Yes, but—”
I raised a finger to silence him, but he caught it, kissed it. “Neve, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m not afraid of a connection forming, but I don’t want you trapped in a relationship you don’t want and couldn’t ever be comfortable with.”
I stared at him for a minute, unable to believe what I was hearing. It wasn’t a rejection—quite the opposite, in fact. Happiness surged and a silly grin split my lips. “I’ve thought myself in love before, Commander, and survived the fallout when it became obvious it was very one-sided. I’m willing to take that chance again, but only if you are.”
With a sigh that was almost relief, he wrapped a hand around my waist, pulled me against him, and kissed me. There was nothing cautious about this kiss, nothing gentle; it was heated and hungry, filled with all passion that had been simmering between us since the ceremony. And it made my pulse race and my heart sing.
This time, he didn’t stop or pull away. The kiss gave way to caresses, and swiftly became a heated exploration of each other’s bodies, one that involved both hands and tongue. We tasted and teased, caressed and kissed, as much as the confines of time, urgency, and the small carriage would allow, until the scent of need was so sweet and heavy on the air it was almost liquid. When I could no longer stand the glorious torture, I pushed him back onto the seat and straddled him. But he gripped my hips, preventing me from fully capturing him, his gaze on mine and his expression serious.
“Never, ever, believe that I haven’t wanted you,” he murmured. “Ever since that very first night in my suite at Blacklake it has been so.”
With that, he released me, and I thrust down onto him. And oh, it was such a moment of utter perfection, where everything was as it should be, that neither us of dared move.
Then desire surged, and his groan was one I echoed as we began a dance as old as time and life itself. Slowly at first, and then with increasing urgency. Pleasure curled through my body, shaking me with its power, until the growing need for completion had my body wound so tight it felt like I would surely shatter. And then I did shatter, as did he, the force of it so strong it tore gargled screams from both our throats.
For several seconds after, we simply sat there, our bodies locked together. That odd, earthy energy continued to surge around us, a force that remained more than just sexual, and one that for the first time seemed completely united. It was almost as if two halves had now been made whole, and that energy—be it of earth or something far more basic—was now satisfied.
He dropped a kiss on my forehead and said, “I would love to take you to bed right now and more thoroughly risk that connection we spoke about, but I can’t.”
“No.” I climbed off his lap. “I don’t suppose you have towels and water in this carriage, do you?”
“Indeed do we do.” His mouth twitched as he opened a compartment to the left of my seat. It revealed a small sink, tap, and above it, some towels. “This isn’t the first time carriages have been used for such pursuits.”
I laughed and quickly cleaned myself up. He did the same, and by the time we’d both dressed, the carriage was pulling to a halt outside Rossi House.
Our door was opened and once again, Trey exited first. I handed him the still-wrapped Irkallan’s head and my sword—my knife was once again strapped to my thigh, its presence concealed by the flowing skirt—and then accepted his help down. My gaze immediately went the white stone and silver metal fa?ade of the fantastical building. Nothing seemed to have changed, and that seemed rather weird given all that had happened since we’d left.
A liveried pageboy came down the steps as we began to climb them, meeting us halfway. “Lord Kiro waits for you in your quarters, Lord Trey.”
The wind stirred around me as he spoke, whispering of dark deeds being done. With it came the urgent need to go check on Saska. I glanced at Trey. “You go. I really need to go check on Saska.”
He frowned. “I don’t think that’d be wise—”
“The wind would suggest otherwise.”
“Which means it’s a suggestion we dare not deny.” He caught my hand and raised it to his lips. “Meet me back in our suite once you’ve finished. And be careful.”
“People keep telling me that.” Amusement twitched my lips. “Anyone would think I’m the careless sort or something.”
He laughed and released me. I watched him stride after the page for a second, and then headed left, following the wide patio around to the rear of the huge house. I eventually entered via a side entrance then walked down the silent halls to Saska’s suite. Ava and a golden-haired man I only vaguely knew were standing either side of the doorway.
“Neve,” Ava said, delight creasing her features. “You didn’t get dead.”
“Not through lack of trying—at least if you believe what others might be saying.” I glanced at the other guard. “How are you, Ranel?”
“I’ll be better when our shift is over. It’s almost as boring standing here as it is on the wall.”
“Trust me, boring is probably better than the alternatives right now.” I glanced back at Ava. “Anyone come in or out?”
“Other than Lord Kiro, no.” She hesitated. “And he didn’t look pleased when he left.”
I smiled. “He never looks pleased.”
“Yeah, but considering they had sex, I would have thought he’d at least be a little happier.”
Meaning Kiro had used the full extent of his talents on Saska again. “How long ago was this?”
“Around lunchtime.”
Which was about the time the pleasurable sensations had hit me in the shower. For whatever reason, a link had definitely been formed between Saska and me.
But I had to wonder what being seduced in such a way—even if Kiro had taken the time to make it pleasurable for her—would have done to her already unstable state.
“Has there been much movement since then?”
“No,” Ava said. “But she must have the side doors open, because the force of wind has been strong enough to rattle this door.”
Given Saska’s propensity to stand outside in the wild weather, that wasn’t entirely surprising. Yet unease stirred. “Do you know if there’s anyone stationed on the balcony exit?”
“Yes, there is.” She glanced at Ranel, who said, “I believe Gen and Luc are currently assigned there.”
Two people I wasn’t familiar with, which suggested they were newer recruits. “And Saska hasn’t come out?”