King of Diamonds (14 page)

Her pussy ached and her core flooded with need. She brought her hands to her nipples and pinched the already hard nubs. As she imagined Karn’s mouth upon her breasts, Annie eased her fingers beneath the tunic and cupped her mound.

She could almost feel the bonds on her wrists and ankles as Karn tied her to the bed, spreading her body out for his pleasure. Her fingers eased into her slit as she pictured Karn’s head between her legs, his stubble rasping the soft skin around her pussy in contrast to his soft wood brown hair sliding over the inside of her thighs.

Annie dipped two fingers into her core then spread her juices over her clit. Slowly she started fingering herself, imagining Karn’s tongue upon her pussy. And when he’d bring her close to peak, he would rise up and thrust his cock into her core. She would struggle against her bonds, loving the feel of them tying her down, yet wanting to grab him and hold on while he rode her hard.

His expression would be fierce, his eyes blazing with passion. Annie felt her climax building and building as she remembered his touch, the way he looked at her and made love to her.

In her mind she was waiting for him to give her permission to come…thinking of him driving into her, harder and faster as she clung to her last thread of restraint. She imagined his shout of “Now, Annie! Come for me, kitten!” and it threw her over the edge.

The orgasm rushed through Annie. Her hips moved against her hand and she continued to circle her clit, drawing out every last wave until the sensations were too much to go on.

She slipped her fingers from her pussy and brought her hand to her nose and breathed in the rich scent of her juices. If only the smell of Karn’s semen was mixed with the scent. It was such a rich, heady smell that she’d grown to love.

With a sigh, Annie braced her forehead against the windowpane, and both palms. The pane was cold against her skin, helping to chill her lust for Karn. Her breath fogged the view as she looked out into the dreary afternoon, and in turn her glasses clouded over.

Annie removed her glasses and cleaned them with the bottom of Karn’s tunic while she stared at the ocean.

Something dark moved along the cliff’s edge, high above the rocky shore. A two-headed something?

Frowning, Annie slipped her glasses back on, but whatever was out there was gone.

A shadow. That’s all it was.

Shaking her head, Annie turned away from the window and moved to the massive mahogany chamber door to her left. She knocked, waited for a moment in case someone was in the room, and then gripped the door handle. The large pewter-like handle felt cold in her hand, and for a moment she had to struggle with it to open the door. When it finally gave in to her efforts, the hinges creaked, sending a momentary chill down her spine.

Annie squinted into the darkness. As her eyes adjusted to the dim room, and dark forms gradually came into view, Annie almost screamed. She wasn’t exactly the screaming type, but she was so excited she could hardly contain herself.

She’d discovered an art room.

Three easels occupied the center of the chamber, canvases were stacked against walls, and countless other artist treasures filled the room. For the first time since before the sharing tea, Annie felt a burst of pure happiness. Art had meant so much to her before she was taken from her home, and the need to create was a part of her very soul.

Annie spent the day exploring the room, righting pictures that had fallen down and organizing the painting supplies she found. There were empty canvases, tubes of oil paints, a box of pastels, some kind of cleaner that smelled more like almonds than turpentine, and a box of ebony-handled brushes with bristles made from fine silver, gold, and bronze hair, probably from the horse-like beasts she’d seen in the village that were called
jul
. There were also countless canvases of portraits and landscapes, obviously created by an artist with true talent.

“Karn’s mother,” she murmured as she moved to a painting of a beautiful white castle that sparkled in the sunshine, with acres of gardens in every color of the rainbow spread out before it. “He mentioned she was an artist.” She checked the corner and saw the ornate initials,
Q.E.

Queen Elinara.

The room was rather dusty, telling Annie it had been awhile since its contents were used, but the supplies were in fabulous condition.

In this magic place, everything is probably enchanted,
she thought as she arranged the oil paints. They were in tubes that looked as if made from oilskin, and she found a palette made from rosewood in the shape of a paw print with wells where each pad would be. The pastels were in compartments on a long wooden tray that had a snug fitting wooden lid, and the lid was inlaid with a heart, a spade, a diamond, and a club.

Annie smiled. She felt like a giddy child who’d been searching for the end of the rainbow and had found her pot of gold.

After searching out a castle servant, Annie was provided with the tools she needed to give the room a good spring cleaning.

Well, maybe a winter cleaning, in this bleak place, but a cleaning nonetheless.

Late in the evening, once she’d tackled most of the room, Beya tracked Annie down. The woman appeared in her usual manner—out of nowhere—scaring the crud out of Annie in the process.

She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Beya, don’t
do
that.”

“Pardon, Milady.” The housekeeper’s gaze traveled the now well-organized room. “’Tis time someone took this room in hand, yes. An artist’s touch it has well needed.”

Annie’s fingers itched to hold a paintbrush and bring one of the many empty canvases to life. “I can’t wait to get started.”

“But wait you shall.” Beya, who was over a good two and a half feet shorter than Annie, reached up and patted her arm. “Dinner is served in your chambers and your creature is quite in need of companionship.”

“Abra!” Annie wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “Poor thing. More than likely she’ll be giving me the silent treatment until tomorrow morning.”

Beya smiled. “Come now. To your chambers.” The housekeeper faded into sparkles, leaving Annie alone once again.

As she surveyed the room one last time, she propped her hands on her hips. Her arms, legs and back ached, but she had that wonderful feeling of a job well done.

Annie gave a tired but satisfied smile in the direction of an empty canvas sitting on an easel. “Tomorrow you’re mine, sugar.”

Over the next few days, Annie threw herself into her art and pushed aside her nightly dreams. Every night she dreamed of leaving and finding her cousins safe and happy. The urge to leave and find the family who truly loved her grew greater every day, but she couldn’t abandon Karn, not yet anyway.

When she first sat down in front of the easel, she hadn’t known what she was going to create. Before she knew it she had fallen into an artistic trance, and when she came out of it the image of a man was on the canvas.

Her man.

Karn.

Daily Annie poured her heart and soul into the painting, working on it until she felt it was as close to perfect as it was going to get. Since she normally did landscapes, it surprised her how well she’d captured the brooding, sexy look in his dark eyes as he looked to the distance, the fall of dark hair to his shoulders, the arrogant line of his jaw.

Annie loved everything about Karn, and it was breaking her heart to know she’d have to leave soon. She couldn’t and wouldn’t stay where she wasn’t loved. It would slowly kill her to live with a man who refused to share his heart and soul with her.

From Aleana, Annie had managed to learn a bit here and there about her cousins, the Queen of Hearts and the Queen of Spades. The Kingdom of Hearts was the closest, several miles to the north of the Kingdom of Diamonds.

And she would leave now that she’d finished his portrait. It would be her final gift to Karn, a way of leaving her love with him, even if he didn’t want it. Unconditional, no strings attached—pure and simple and colorful.

When she made the final stroke, a hint of shadow to the line of his jaw, her heart settled low in her belly. She was done. She could no longer put off the inevitable.

One more thing to do.
Annie adjusted her glasses with one hand while she reached for a fine tipped brush with silver hair. Annie dipped the point into navy blue paint and then carefully signed the lower right corner.

To Karn with love,

Annie Travis

The incredible feeling of loneliness and emptiness that she’d forced back this whole week came crashing over her like the waves against the cliffs. Pounding and pounding at her so hard that tears forced their way past her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. With angry jerks of her hand, she swiped at them. Crying was useless, and she might as well get over him now. She was a big girl, and time to act like it.

After she cleaned the brushes and packed all the art supplies neatly away, she stood for a moment in the doorway, carefully holding Karn’s portrait with one hand. The room’s smells of almond-scented brush cleaner, oil paints, and cedar wood, would be forever imprinted on her mind.

Annie closed the door, the heavy wood easily sliding shut with a click and a resounding thump. Taking care not to bump the portrait, she stole back to her own corridor. She paused in front of the weapons room then set the painting so that it was resting against the wall. She slipped into the room and grabbed the smaller of the leather packs then retrieved one of the sheathed daggers she had seen on her initial exploration of this wing. Once she reached her destination, she would make sure the dagger and pack were sent back to Karn.

The dagger she slipped into the pack for now, and then she slung the pack over her shoulder. She left the room, closing the door tight behind her then retrieved Karn’s painting and hurried to his chambers. She’d only been inside once before, when she’d swiped his shirt to wear.

Annie almost cried when she walked into his chambers and the full force of all that was Karn flowed over her. His presence filled the room from his raw masculinity to his unique male musk. Like the man, the room was dark and foreboding, yet infused with personality.

Don’t cry!
she admonished herself.
Tears are useless.

She set his portrait on one of the trunks in the room and leaned it up against the wall. After the portrait was settled, she slowly took off her collar and laid it on the trunk beside the painting. She felt so naked and lost without the collar, the symbolism of what it meant…that she had belonged to Karn.

Biting her lower lip to keep from crying, Annie moved to the trunk where Karn kept his clothing. She didn’t want to take anything from Karn, but she couldn’t very well travel the moors in nothing but a tunic. She knew his clothes would be too big, but maybe she could roll up each pant leg and tie a scarf or belt around the waist.

When she dug through his trunk, her fingers brushed something familiar, and she almost cried out her relief. Her jeans. By the time she’d dug everything out, she’d discovered that all her clothing was there, buried beneath his belongings. Her own jeans and T-shirt.

He’d kept them.

What that meant, she didn’t know, but if she was going to sneak out into the moors, it was good she’d have her own clothing.

Annie hurried through the connecting doors into the bedroom she’d used since arriving at Diamond Hall. She’d spent many wonderful days with Karn, before the sharing tea, but her nights had always been alone. In her heart she knew it was his way of keeping distance between them. Not allowing himself to come to care too much for her. She understood what had damaged his heart so much that he refused to love, and it was impossible to get past that. He guarded his heart so well nothing seemed to get past it.

Abra was sitting at her crystal bowl, eating her dinner, and Annie’s heart squeezed. If it wasn’t for her cat, her days would have been so much harder to take.

The cat gave Annie a haughty look that said,
about time you showed up
, and returned to eating. Annie smiled and sat down at the table where her own dinner was laid out.

When she finished eating, she dressed in her own clothing then strapped on the sheathed dagger. When she caught sight of the nipple rings on her dresser, she paused for a moment. The diamonds glittered in the candlelight and she couldn’t help but remember the times she’d worn them for Karn, when they were alone.

Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Annie withdrew the traveling cloak from the trunk and slipped it over her head, then pulled on the doeskin boots he had given her for the walk along the shore. After she stuffed the leftover piece of bread into her pocket, along with a piece of fruit, she put the pack over her shoulder. She scooped Abra up from off the bed and held the cat close beneath her cloak.

A sense of déjà vu swept over Annie, but she shook off the feeling and slipped out her bedroom door and quietly closed it behind her.

* * * * *

Karn guided his golden
jul
through the misty moors. The beast gave a low whinny, and Karn had to agree, it was not a good evening to be out and about. Yet he didn’t mind the rain against his face or the chill wind seeping through the opening of his traveling cloak.

What did concern him were creatures that preyed on travelers who dared to cross the moors at night. It was not fully dark yet, but Karn kept his sword across his lap and his senses constantly on the alert. Fortunately the
jul
also had keen senses and could easily work their way through the fog to avoid stepping into the boggy locations.

The only sounds in the moors were the creak of saddle leather and the soft clip clop of the
jul’s
hooves. Even the
rian
were quiet this night, not a chirp nor a trill, which did not set well with Karn.

Nothing sets well with me these days.