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Byron held court at one end of the table, Brummell at the other. Each tried to outdo the other by spewing forth questionable remarks and obscure references regarding the forthcoming wedding night. Most of their meaning was lost on her, thank goodness, but others at the table found them wickedly amusing, snickering into their cups as they looked knowingly between her and the Prince.
On top of this, that idiotic fop, Creighton, had snuffled his way through the meal, inappropriate French phrases dropping from his lips like je ne sais quoi; while Lady Harcorte barely took her eyes off of Nickolai.
The worst, worst part of it was having to sit next to her hus-him the entire evening while he made a great show of being ever so solicitous of her needs. Filling her plate with the choicest morsels. Inquiring if she would like more wine. And when no one was looking, placing his hand on her thigh under the table in blatant ownership, his challenging, laughing eyes meeting hers.
When she finally had been able to excuse herself, she had rushed headlong back to her room only to find that her only refuge had been marred by the sheer, white, lacy nightgown Emmy had left draped across her bed. It waved at her like a white flag on the battlefield of defeat.
Lilac had tossed it out the window and proceeded to don her heaviest night rail. It dragged on the floor and b.u.t.toned up to her chin.
Lilac eyed the door to the connecting room warily. She had no intentions of sleeping with the lout even though he had informed her earlier that he had no intentions of sleeping in the connecting room. Uncivilized oaf! Who ever heard of a man and a woman sharing the same room! The same bed.
Well, she just wouldn't do it!
He had tricked her! She hadn't figured out how yet, but she would. Her shoulders slumped. Lilac honestly admitted to herself that she had sorely underestimated his capabilities. The man was exceedingly clever. It wasn't sporting of him to hide all that cleverness under that beautiful facade.
His stunning looks had thrown her off; she wouldn't make the same mistake again. As soon as he showed himself, she intended to toss him out-right on his taut, compact little rump! Lilac slapped her hands together as if the distasteful job was finished. She had worked herself into a fine lather. Just let him try to- He stood in the connecting doorway.
He was leaning against the frame, arms crossed over his wide chest, idly watching her while she paced the room muttering to herself. A red silken robe and nothing else clung to him.
My word.
Irrationally, she fumed at how good he looked. There wasn't a woman on the entire planet who could deal with that! The thought that he might be wearing the infamous robe written about in the Morning Post flickered across her mind before sanity returned. Under the circ.u.mstances, an offensive attack was best.
She whirled on him.
"You have what you want now-my property, my things, my house! Get out!"
Rejar viewed her calmly.
"I have no need of your property, your things or your house. But you are right"-his eyes did a slow survey from the top of her head to the tips of her pink toes peeking out from under the voluminous gown-"I have what I want."
His blatant action made her blush to her pink little toes. Lilac threw her arms up in the air. "Why are you doing this?"
Because I cannot look upon another woman without seeing your face; because your scent follows me even into my dreams, because I want you beyond everything in my life. And because, my wife, you belong to me as I belong to you. He only replied, "I told you before-I have my reasons."
As an answer, Lilac deemed it insufficient. A vase came hurtling towards his head.
He didn't even blink.
Pottery crashed against the wall not two feet from his head. Not one muscle in that sculpted physique moved.
This infuriated the woman of logic all the more.
She clenched her fists. "I don't understand you! I don't understand any of this! How did you know all those things about me?" She gritted her teeth to ask the unaskable. "How did you know of the birthmark on my ... thigh?"
His eyes sparkled devilishly. He blinked twice, those ridiculously long lashes fanning his cheekbones. A dimple curved his left cheek. "Meow," he whispered to her.
Lilac hesitated. Was he mocking her? Making light of her upset? How dare he! Another vase crashed against the wall followed by a screech of outrage.
Downstairs, Emmy raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Cor, what a racket! Is that 'er cat a screechin' like that?" she asked Jackie.
"Naw-'t'is the mistress-ship 'erself."
"Is 'e killin' 'er then?" Emmy worried.
Jackie snickered. "Yes, but a 'little death' ne'er 'urt no one, eh, Emmy?" He elbowed the plump maid in the side.
Emmy smiled knowingly at him. "Listen-it's gone quiet up there now."
A first edition of Lady of the Lake sailed by him, landing on the carpet with a dull thud. Rejar was getting tired of this particular game. It was time to enlighten her on the facts of life and move on to the next level of play.
"Have you ever wondered why you have never seen your 'precious' cat around me?" He asked in a detached mien. "For that matter, why you have never seen us together? And why do you suppose it is that we both have the same eyes-one of each color?"
Lilac's brow furrowed. What did this have to do with anything? "Not really. I will admit when I first met you I thought it an odd coincidence that you both had similar-"
"Not similar. Identical."
"What are you saying?" she asked sarcastically. "That you knew my every move because you have some kind of strange communion with my cat?"
"No. I am saying, my Lilac, that I am your cat."
She laughed hysterically. "Are you ill? I have never heard such a ridiculous tale in my life. Think up a better one, your Highness."
He gave her The Smile.
A chill raced down her spine. If ever there was a man who reminded one of a ... She paled. "I am a woman of good sense and sound judgment! I cannot credit such a wild story. As I say-try again."
The red silk material pulled taut over the muscles in his crossed arms. His long black hair slid forward to curtain his face as he inclined his head, patiently in wait. "Really?"
Lilac faltered for a moment. The picture he made was of an utterly sensuous man. An utterly untamed man. She tried to regain her composure. "Positively. Next you'll tell me that the dreams-" She stopped abruptly, realizing what she almost revealed to him.
His head snapped up. With a sardonic grin, he abandoned his casual stance by the door and began a deliberate pace towards her. "Those dreams-my sweet, sweet Lilac-were not dreams."
Her mouth parted in surprise. Did he know about the dreams as well? Her face flushed. How? "I don't know what game you're playing, but I do not find it amusing! You may leave." She waved her hand as if to brush the debris out.
He stopped in front of her and pierced her with a steely gaze.
She swallowed convulsively. The Prince could be most intimidating.
Lifting his hand, he insolently ran the tip of his finger down the side of her face. He stopped his motion long enough to rub the pad back and forth over the sensitive spot in front of her ear. Excited nerve endings instantly sizzled to his expert touch.
Somehow, it did not surprise her that he knew this about her as well.
He continued to trace his fingertips lightly along the underside of her jaw to her chin. With a simple upward flick of his thumb, he positioned her mouth to his liking.
"Stop," she whispered nervously.
"I think not," he murmured.
Lilac watched those sensual lips coming near and her breath stopped in her throat. Odd-the small indentation below his slightly full bottom lip fascinated her. It was as if she somehow knew exactly what pleasure that sultry lip could deliver. She stood transfixed like prey caught in the hunter's sight, feeling the heat of him, his warm breath drifting against her mouth. Poised to capture.
He lowered his mouth to hers very, very slowly. He was through waiting.
Instinctually, just a hair's breath from touch, he hesitated. It was the false reprieve of predator to prey that signified the end of the chase.
Then he was there.
Covering her mouth with his own. Filling her with his taste, his scent, his velvet warmth. He was fluid, damp, expert. He enticed while he demanded. He mastered while he claimed.
It was the kiss of a conqueror.
This time he insisted on entrance to her mouth, seizing his right as her bonded mate to take possession of that which belonged to him and him alone. His swift tongue dipped between her lips, shocking her into clutching the lapels of his robe. He stroked inside her. Tasted her. Swallowed her.
The Familiar unleashed her control with one sweep of his gifted tongue.
In this one area, at least, she never stood a chance. He knew it. And now she knew it too.
Lilac closed her eyes tightly. He was going to have her. She could not stop him. With this sure knowledge came fear ... and something else. She began to shake, from exactly what she could not say.
Rejar sensed her fear-a lot of fear. But under the fear...
He spoke low in her ear. "You cannot hide what you feel from me. Lilac; I sense your desire."
A small sound issued from her lips. He stared deeply into her frightened, expectant eyes. Their breaths sounded in the quiet room, a complimentary cadence. The mating kiss he had given her earlier was syncopating their life rhythms.
When she inhaled, he exhaled.
When she exhaled, he inhaled.
It was the awakening sound of building pa.s.sion.
His arm went securely around her waist, bringing her snug against him. Lowering his head, he began to sip on the skin of her neck and throat, his movements as graceful and sophisticated as an artist's. Rejar entered into the trancelike state which preceded the ancient mating dance of the Familiar. The nearer he came to the spot in the curve of her throat where her neck met her shoulder, the more his blood pulsed. His breathing became deeper, slower. Desire pounded in his veins, thick and hot.
He had never experienced the mating trance before. It was a drugging sensuality, at once enervating and electrifying. Surrendering to his pa.s.sion, he opened all his senses to her completely, letting her seep inside him. She was a rich viscous honey. Each pore of his being filled with everything that was Lilac; her essence hummed inside of him, vibrating a complimentary pitch to their now synchronous breaths.
It was the most extraordinary experience of his life.
Without conscious thought, he shucked off the robe he wore. It slid to the floor in a puddle at his feet, forgotten. In the same beat, he began to undo the small pearl b.u.t.tons going down the front of her nightrail.
Lilac closed her eyes tightly, too ashamed to look upon a naked man. In her fear, her hands clutched his powerful shoulders-in some strange way the cause became the anchor. What terrible thing would he do to her?
His lips followed the descent of his hand, laving what he revealed between the heavy folds of the material. She felt the heat of his mouth, a line of fire trickling down her belly. The masculine hands at her waist began to inch up the fabric of her gown while his lips and tongue worked their magic on the narrow band of soft skin. Her eyes opened a slit.
The b.u.t.tons stopped just below her belly b.u.t.ton. Down on one knee now, Nickolai paused to look up at her before leaning forward to press a possessive kiss on the slight swell of her stomach. Then he stood, his hands taking the bunched cloth in his grasp and lifting it over her head.
He tossed the ugly garment into the fire. It would no longer come between them at night.
"My gown!" She could not evade his embrace to save her night rail from the fire. Greedy flames licked at the cloth. In seconds it was consumed by the inferno. She viewed Nickolai out of the corner of her eye, catching a smooth expanse of golden-tan skin. Consumed as I shall be. A little whimper escaped her.
Rejar had no way of knowing that a great deal of Lilac's fear was in not knowing exactly what he was going to do with her. She knew it involved some mysterious exchange but no one had ever told her what that exchange was.
His hands came down on her shoulders, turning her in the direction of the expansive floor-length mirror which hung against the wall. Lilac took one look, saw something very large, and shut her eyes. She heard his low chuckle... behind her?
Maybe they were just supposed to stare at each other naked in the looking gla.s.s. That seemed pretty risque-a very intimate thing to do. Yes, that must be it. How long would he want to look at her? This was terribly embarra.s.sing. No wonder women dreaded it! This was- His velvet lips touched her shoulder. The edge of his hand brushed her hair forward to the right side of her throat, exposing the back of her neck.
Strong arms came around her waist from behind, pulling her back against heated skin.
Those same arms crossed in front of her, imprisoning her, each hand cupping a breast to ma.s.sage and knead and rub. His thumbs flicked her nipples, making them protrude and tighten. It made her feel edgy and wanting.
Muscular male legs stroked sinuously against the back of her legs and derriere.
The erotic things he was doing to her made her shiver. I think it's not just looking in the mirror. Lilac began to shake with a combination of fear and desire.
Growling, his heated lips opened on the curve of her neck, wildly drawing on her as his arms tightened about her waist. Lilac's breaths were ragged now, catching in her throat at his almost animalistic action. It was the Nickolai of her dreams! How? How?
"Put your palms against the mirror." His low snarl was an order.
By the sound of him, she did not dare refuse. She braced herself against the gla.s.s. A powerful thigh forced its way between her legs. She could feel him against her now, enormous. The broad head of his shaft was at the entrance of her feminine core. He wasn't going to . . . !
She had only a second to panic before he sunk his teeth sharply into the nape of her neck and simultaneously pierced her maidenhead in one powerful thrust.
Lilac screamed.
She kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut as the pain flowed through her in waves, making her aware that he was embedded in her to the hilt. A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye.
Rejar knew he had hurt her. There was no help for it. Her maiden state combined with the position of the ritualistic first mate-bond of the Familiar made it inevitable. He could feel her trembling against him, around him.
He remained motionless inside her, allowing her to adjust to him. The pain would soon be over and the pleasure would begin. His action mirroring his thought, Rejar licked her tear away.
When he felt her ease around him, he spoke low in her ear. "Open your eyes and look at me, my beautiful wife."
Still shaken. Lilac remained as she was, eyes tightly closed.
"I want you to see me when I first move in you," he whispered against her. "I want you to look on me and know that I am inside you. Open your eyes, souk-souk; we are joined. Right now-this moment. We are like one being. Look ..." he coaxed softly.
She opened her eyes slowly. Great luminous green pools gazed up at him through the mirror. Innocent, beautiful eyes that tugged at his heart. Aviaran eyes.
"N-Nickolai..." She turned her head to look up at him. There was wonder on her face. Wonder and soon, he hoped, desire.
He bent his head at an angle, sweetly capturing her lush lips. "Watch... in the mirror." He moved a fraction of an inch. Her eyes widened. Her lips, still dewy from his kiss, parted in surprise.
He withdrew halfway and slid into her. She gasped.
Again.