Courting Kel (16 page)

Kel moaned. “Blisters to support the tale you’ll tell Aren
when he returns.”

“He’ll hear none such from me or any of mine.”

Using her hands to inch up his massive back, Kel managed to
look into Caton’s face. “You won’t tell Aren I—”

“Went for a hike and got a little turned around?”

“Ugh! That sounds so much worse than if I ran away. A
warrior…”

Caton grunted. “Pride I understand, Kel. I’ll not mention
anything at all, then. Unless he asks, of course. And so long as you don’t try
to run again.”

“I can live with that. Tak.”

“You’re welcome.”

With a sigh Kel resigned herself to remaining with Aren. Her
heart felt lighter, as if Caton had taken the decision from her, giving her an
excuse to stay.

And that guanshit prophecy cloth had nothing to do with it.

Chapter Ten

Aren’s
few days
lasted a week. Kel had decided to
behave as if she’d scarcely noticed his absence. When she saw Peg making lower
and lower circles over the lodge, she felt an excitement she could not contain.
She limped to Aren, only to have him hold her at arm’s length.

“Peg glop,” he explained, leaning down to kiss the pout from
her lips.

“The hot spring awaits, m’lord.” As it had waited, candles
unlit, for four long days. She didn’t intend to tell him how many hours she’d
spent arranging the candles just so. Or how long she’d sat in the dark,
yearning for him to join her.

“Did you miss me?” he asked as they hurried toward the
spring. Her blistered feet protested the pace.

“A little. In truth, Drew, Laurette and Erland kept me so
busy I had little time to think about you.” But the prophecy cloth had filled
her nights with dreams of him. Dreams that left her weak with longing. Another
fact she wouldn’t tell him. Just as she would keep her running away to herself
and pray Caton kept his word.

Keeping hold of her hand, Aren jumped into the spring. When
they surfaced, she started a water fight that cleaned away most of Peg’s glops.

Aren caught her hands and pulled her to him for a kiss that
left her breathless and wanting more. She helped him peel off his clothes while
he helped her shed hers. With a wave of his hand, he lit the candles. Yet
another show of his Ondrican genetic tricks.

“You did miss me,” he said, stroking her already rigid
nipples.

She grasped his swollen cock. “Not as much as you missed
me.”

He pinched her nipples, making her gasp. “I’m sorry,” he
said.

“They’re a little sensitive. Ever since…”

“Our dream of fucking on horseback? And our making love all
that night?”

Looking into his eyes, she nodded. When he kissed each
tender nub, she sensed he’d wanted the subject of dreams brought up.

“What is it, Aren? Do you want me to tell you about my
dreams? The ones I had while you were gone?”
Or will you tell me that the
first dream we shared was not a dream at all but foretelling? And what does it
mean for us?

“Unnecessary, Flame. I dreamed as well.”

His confession didn’t surprise her. She had sensed him
lurking at the edges of her dreams, she on the outskirts of his. If she’d known
how to bring him closer, she would have. Something else she wouldn’t admit. Nor
would she tell him how furious she’d felt, knowing he’d denied her a choice yet
again. No matter that she’d allowed him to mate with her when she might have
stopped him. Not that she had wanted to stop him. She had willingly gone to him
that night. And eagerly taken him into her then and the next morning.

“I do, however, intend to prove to you that the prophecy
cloth will follow us anywhere.”

Kel jutted her chin. “How?”

“By sending you home.”

“Home,” she echoed, feeling a spurt of joy followed by utter
devastation. How could he send her home now? If the prophecy cloth had told the
truth—that she and Aren were destined to be together—how could he send her
home?

“I thought you’d like that, Kel. You can see your mother and
your friends. You and Basalia can plan our wedding ceremony, or whatever kind
of feast you want. Your people will share our joy. Then we—”

“You’ll fill
The Herald
with invaders, free the men
we’ve captured, and kill our women or bring them back here as slaves.”

He blanched, then his face and chest flushed red. Climbing
out of the spring, he gathered the clothing they’d flung away then headed for
the lodge. He waved. The candles sputtered and their light died.

Kel buried her face in her hands and sobbed. What, she
wondered, was the matter with her? She craved his kisses, his lovemaking, but
she’d picked a fight to send him away.

Her own voice in her mind damned her.
Stupid, Kel.
Sending him away when you want him—need him to hold you and mate with you. Even
for you, Kel, too stupid for words.

* * * * *

Aren veered away from the lodge and headed toward his
greenhouse—anywhere to get away from Kel.

May all the gods blast her!

She’d run. He could see she’d spent too much time in the
sun. Her creamy skin was red from hours of exposure—something she knew better
than to do. And her limp shouted her feet were tender. Why would they be tender
unless she’d walked too far in her boots? Boots he should have hidden from her
or taken with him. He’d sensed—no, he’d known!—she would try to escape. He’d trusted
her and she had betrayed him—gods-blasted woman! Her dove-gray eyes had hidden
her duplicity. Even as they kissed goodbye, their eyes open, hers had darkened,
making him believe she wanted him again. Making him believe she loved him.

She came back
, a more rational side of his mind
reminded him.

“Probably got lost or tired…or hungry.” As if she hadn’t
sense enough to take food and water with her. But something had brought her
back.

Or someone.

He dismissed that notion. Only he had reason to think she
would run away. He glanced in the direction of Caton’s home. Perhaps Kel’s
trying to return the prophecy cloth had aroused suspicion in someone’s mind.
Caton and Jocelyn knew Kel didn’t want to acknowledge her marriage to Aren. His
leaving her alone might have caused them to keep an eye on her. Raking his
hair, he decided it was too late to call on Caton tonight. Tomorrow…tomorrow he
and Kel would travel to make-believe Amazonia.

The gnawing feeling in his belly told him Kel had run for a
reason—one beyond her natural hatred of captivity. Her accusation about taking
The
Herald
to raid Amazonia seemed to come from nowhere. Had she discovered the
trick he was about to play on her?

Impossible.
Basalia had no way to contact Kel here in
the country or anywhere else unless he permitted it. And Aren now knew Storr
and Kel’s mother had some nefarious scheme working. Something that involved
their children.

Like marriage?

“You think?” he muttered to himself.

He’d managed to distract himself from wondering what had set
Kel off. He returned to the puzzle. What had he done or said…?

Halting in mid-stride, he replayed the scene in his mind.
Remembering how her eyes had changed color and her lips had thinned, he crowed.
“Ahh. I said I’d send her home.
Send
not
take
. She doesn’t want
to leave me!” He almost shouted the words he was so overcome by joy.

But as he made his way back to the lodge that gnawing
feeling in his belly worsened.

* * * * *

The next morning Kel spotted Erland and Storrtwo through
Storrsix racing around a sleek, silvery saucer parked right outside the cook
room door. To her, it resembled a much smaller version of
The Herald
.
Her stomach lurched and her mouth went dry. Unless Aren’s invaders were as thin
as paper, they wouldn’t fit inside this ship. Which meant she owed him an
apology.

“May we go with you, Aren?” Erland asked, standing like a
soldier at parade rest. His younger brothers zoomed around the spaceship before
circling Aren as if their numbers could convince him to let them board.

“Next time. Maybe.” Ruffling Storrsix’s mop of dark hair,
Aren met Kel’s eyes. Guilt over her rudeness last night made her look away.

Drew and Laurette came around the corner of the lodge, Drew
bearing the prophecy cloth. “It will stay with us for a time,” Drew explained.
“Because we made it.”

“How long?” Kel wondered.

“A day or two,” Laurette replied, stroking her hand over the
soft material. It seemed to curl around Laurette’s and Drew’s hands as if
craving the girls’ touch. Were it a cat, Kel suspected it would purr.

Jealous that her cloth could betray her so blatantly, Kel
strode toward Aren. Reaching him, she said, “This trip seems a waste of time
and resources.”

“Both are mine to waste. Especially if it proves my point.”
He glanced at the small package Kel held at her side. His eyebrows quirked
upward in a brief question.

“I thought Basalia should see what she might trade for. This
all-weather blanket is the most transportable…unless you don’t want me to bring
it?”

“There is room. Ready?”

She nodded. At the spaceship’s hatch, she glanced back at
the lodge, already missing her shiny green sarong and her multicolored gown.
Had she kept the homespun tunic she’d arrived in, she’d take nothing Aren had
given her; but since arriving on Amazonia naked was not an option, Kel wore the
leather pants, vest and boots he’d bestowed. She intended to return them when
she had other clothing. She’d gladly return the boots that had given her
blisters and now felt sizes too small.

Aren’s shoulders were so wide he had to walk sideways to his
pilot’s seat. He buckled her into the body-hugging chair to his right then
settled in himself.

“You’re coming with me?”

“Of course.”

Ignoring the spurt of happiness in her heart, she stared at
the buttonless dashboard and wondered how Aren would control the ship. He laid
his hands on the smooth surface and Kel felt a little jerk.

“Neat trick,” she said, wiggling until her chair conformed
perfectly to her body. Aren’s needed no adjustments. He lifted a finger,
opening the view screens. Kel gasped, stunned at seeing a horizon where night
met day in a sharp line.

Striving to seem as if she had taken many interplanetary
flights, Kel said, “How long will it take to get to Amazonia?”

“A few hours.”

“I had no idea—it took Tage days.”

“He made several stops between Endura and Ondrican. And he
had to remain in orbit for—”

“The Choosing. Jocelyn explained.”

He turned his head to look at her. She gave him her profile,
not wanting him to see her fuming. Aren said Tage had stopped on Endura where
he had taken her aboard
The Herald
. And had her examined by Storr’s
physicians! Tage knew exactly where she’d boarded.
Guanshit blackguard lied
to me!

“The ship will alert us when we reach your homeworld. Not
having slept much last night, I’m going to sleep now.” He touched the control
panel then leaned back to settle more comfortably in his pilot seat.

“Mmm.” He looked well rested to her.
Wretched man.
Despite the care she had taken with her hair, her eyes were red from crying and
the swelling had only begun to lessen when she boarded his ship. Not that she
expected her hair to impact her face…but she’d hoped her neat braid would make
her feel better and feeling better would erase all signs of misery. Only the
gods knew how Basalia would react when she saw Kel.

Hearing Aren’s gentle snores, she slanted him a resentful
glare. The noise would probably keep her awake, but closing her eyes might
lessen their swollen redness.

Having faked his snores, Aren sensed the minute Kel fell
asleep. Gazing at her, part of him wanted to set a course for the real Amazonia
where he could rid himself of her forever. Another part wanted to return to
Ondrican, empty the Princesses’ Palace and make love to her in every single
bedroom.

Rid. Forever.
One of those words he already hated.

He looked at her again. Her heavy braid rested on her left
breast, rising and falling with every breath. In repose, her face seemed more
trusting, more childlike. He wondered what color her eyes would be if she
awakened now and found him staring at her.

Would she have forgiven him for storming off last night? He
should have stayed with her. Found a way to make her laugh. Made her tell him
why she’d run away from him. Cuddled her until they both fell asleep and the
prophecy cloth covered them in dreams of such exquisite fulfillment Kel would
never leave him.

Ha! It would take more than talking to make Kel accept him
as her soul mate. He should have discouraged Drew, forbidden her to weave the
cloth in the first place. Not that he knew about it beforehand. But the girl—
young
woman
, he reminded himself—had never had a constant female presence in her
life. The cloth was a gift from her heart. Aren felt guilty for depriving her
of Kel. Even though Tage held responsibility for his daughter’s welfare, Aren
could have left Drew with Caton and Jocelyn all year-round. But Drew was as
much his child as Tage’s and he kept what was his.

Unlike Storr, who had left Aren’s half-brothers with the
loving couple. Half-brothers bred on Amazonia and brought to Ondrican when only
a few days old. Aren supposed Basalia allowed Storr’s “visits” because she’d
hoped to get a girl from him. When he bred only sons, she’d forbidden him to
set foot on Amazonia again. If she learned Tage had stolen a female child, only
the gods knew what she would do to Aren’s cousin. Or to him, since he would be
much nearer once he and Kel reached “Amazonia”.

“Heavy thoughts, m’lord?” Kel asked, stretching her arms
over her head as she yawned.

Her eyes were a thoughtful brown devoid of redness and
swelling. Tak the gods, Basalia would not harbor resentment for Aren’s causing
Kel pain. Or so he prayed.

“A few,” he admitted, responding to Kel’s smile with one of
his own. He counted himself fortunate that her snits were short lived.

“Worrying that Basalia will hold you captive, perhaps?
Wondering how many women she’ll force you to mate with before she lets you go?”

“Were I not married to her daughter I might ponder those
things. As it is…” He shrugged.

“We aren’t mar— Never mind. There are a few customs you must
observe while you visit us.”

“Such as? If you expect me to kneel at her feet—” He sent
Kel a warning glare. He had as much pride in who and what he was as she and
Basalia had.

“I don’t. Nor will she. She may kiss your cheeks. If she
does, kiss hers. Otherwise, just nod to acknowledge her greeting.”