Silver Master (15 page)

The kisses rained down, dampening her mouth, her throat, heating her blood. Hot energy pulsed, Davis's and her own, resonating once again in a pattern that drove both of them to a higher level of excitement. It had never been like this with any other man, she thought.
Perfect
.

She forgot her momentary misgivings. Eagerly she explored him, savoring the muscular contours of his back and hips. When her fingers closed around him, he sucked in a deep, shuddering breath.

“I won't last long if you keep that up,” he warned, his voice low and husky.

Thrilled, she tightened her fingers a little, challenging him. This time his low laugh sent small, exciting chills up and down her spine.

He slid the satin straps off her shoulders and eased the gown down her body, all the way to her ankles. He dropped it onto the floor beside the bed.

He found her breast with his mouth, and she forgot all about teasing him. She gasped and sank her nails into his back. Her entire body ached with need. Every inch of her skin was shatteringly sensitive.

Davis's big, warm hand slid down her waist, across her stomach. He curled his fingers into the hair at the juncture of her thighs.

She kissed his shoulder, licked him, and then, on impulse, tested his skin with her teeth. He made a soft, hoarse sound and then he caught her nipple very gently between his own teeth His fingers slid lower, seeking secrets.

She stopped breathing. Everything inside her tightened to an unbearable degree. She could feel her own slickness and knew that his hand must be covered with the moisture.

When he moved on top of her a short time later, she was trembling with anticipation and desire.

He positioned himself, and then he started to ease his way into her.

“You're so tight,” he said, his voice ragged. “Relax for me.”

“I'm trying,” she gasped. “You're too big.”

“No. You just need to take it easy.”

She took several deep breaths. “Okay. I'm relaxed.”

“You're sure?”

“I'm sure.”

Instead of pressing forward, he withdrew. She caught him closer, panicked that he had changed his mind.

“No,” she said, clutching at him. “Don't leave me.”

“I wasn't going anywhere. Trust me.”

He found the little nubbin hidden between the protective folds of flesh and stroked it again. Almost immediately she felt herself begin to soften and open.

“Yes,” she said. “Oh, yes,
please
.”

He continued to stroke her until her pleas turned to demands. Then he rolled onto his back, taking her with him.

She sprawled on top of him, knees on either side of his thighs. He found her again with his hand, using thumb and forefinger to drive her mad.

The climax struck out of nowhere. She was unprepared for it because she had never felt anything like it in her life. Pulsing waves of exquisite energy swept through her, releasing a burst of sheer euphoria.

She heard someone scream softly in the shadows. Belatedly she realized that she was the screamer.

Davis gripped her buttocks and pushed himself into her in one smooth, relentless move. He thrust twice, three times and then he went quartz-hard all over. She opened her eyes to look down at him and saw his mouth open in a grimace that could have been either great pain or unbelievable pleasure.

He roared.

There was no other word for it. It was the cry of an exultant male claiming his mate.

She had time to thank her lucky amber that none of her relatives were in the room next door before she collapsed along the length of him.

 

A LONG TIME LATER HE ROUSED HIMSELF, ROLLED AWAY
from her, and flopped back onto the pillows. There was enough emerald-tinted light coming through the sliding glass door to show her that he was smiling with masculine satisfaction.

“You always do that?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“Scream.”

She blushed furiously. Well, at least with all the shadows he couldn't see her turning bright pink.

“I don't know,” she mumbled.

He levered himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. “Why don't you know?”

“I've never done that before.”

“Screamed?”

“Had an orgasm.”

He was clearly taken back. “Are you sure?”

“It isn't the kind of thing you make a mistake about, is it?”

“No, it's not.”

“Trust me, I've never felt anything that delicious before in my life. I'd have remembered.”

“Sorry you had to wait this long, but I have to tell you I'm very glad I was around when it finally happened.”

“Me, too.” She wound her arms around his neck. “You think maybe we could try it again? Make sure it wasn't a one-time thing?”

“My pleasure.”

He bent his head and covered her mouth with his own. Energy flared once more in the shadowed room.

 

A LONG TIME LATER, SHE AWOKE WITH A START, AWARE
that she was being carried in a man's arms. Fear lanced through her, bringing with it memories of the terrible night that Benson Landry had carried her into the hotel room, pretending to the staff that she was intoxicated.

“No.”
Instinctively she started to struggle.

The arms that cradled her tightened, imprisoning her against a hard male chest.

“Take it easy,” Davis said gently. “You're okay. You're just dreaming.”

The reassuring sound of his voice and the familiar pulse of his psi waves drove out the brief panic. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, still disoriented.

“Taking you back to your bed.”

That didn't sound promising.

“Why?” she asked, bewildered now.

“I like to sleep alone,” he said quietly. He put her down onto her bed and straightened. “Don't take it personally.”

She was mortified. He might be perfect for her, but in spite of what they had just shared, the feeling was not reciprocated. It was not as if he had not warned her that he was not interested in long-term relationships, she reminded herself. And it was not as if there were rules against one-night stands for very good reasons. Still, kicking her out of his bed before the night was over seemed a little extreme.

She felt humiliated. She was also furious.

“Got news for you,” she said. “I
am
taking it personally.”

She pulled the covers up to her chin, rolled onto her side, and turned away from him.

He did not leave immediately. She could feel him standing there, looking down at her. She held her breath, wondering if he would change his mind.

“Good night,” he said very quietly.

He went back into his own room. She lay awake for a long time, looking out the window at the glowing green spires and towers of the Dead City. Araminta hopped up onto the bed, cuddled close, and made soft little sounds.

He's Mr. Almost Perfect,
Celinda reminded herself,
not Mr. Perfect. Get used to it.

She finally went to sleep.

BENSON LANDRY'S PHONE REZZED LOUDLY. HE HAD JUST
disengaged from the luscious, energetic, extremely inventive blonde, and he was enjoying the pleasant ennui of the aftermath. He was in no mood to take the call. But there weren't many people who had his private number. When someone used it, there was always a reason.

He rolled away from the blonde, sat up on the edge of the bed, and reached for the phone.

“Landry,” he said. “This had better be important.”

“If you will give me five minutes of your valuable time, I think you will find what I have to say very interesting, Mr. Landry.”

The voice was cultured, resonant, authoritative. It was also unfamiliar. That was enough to rez a slew of alarm bells.

“Who is this?” he asked sharply.

“My name is Dr. Titus G. Kennington. I believe you and I have an acquaintance in common. A woman named Celinda Ingram.”

His insides went cold. He reached back and gave the blonde a hard shove.

She got the message. It wasn't the first time he had sent her away immediately after he had finished with her. Expressionless, she got out of bed, picked up her things, and went into the bathroom to dress.

“What about Celinda Ingram?” he said into the phone, suppressing the urgency that had suddenly consumed him. He had thought that problem had been settled four months ago.

“We'll get to her in a moment. First, let us discuss our partnership.”

“Why in green hell should I take you on as a partner?”

“Because I am prepared to give you something you want very badly in exchange.”

“That would be?”

“I can ensure first that you become the new boss of the Frequency Guild. I am also prepared to go further. I will help you achieve your other goals: a bride from a wealthy, high-ranking, non-Guild family and a shot at a senate seat.”

I'm dealing with a real nutcase, Benson thought. But since this particular whack job had gotten close enough to obtain his private number, he had to pay attention. The only thing he could do was keep the guy talking as long as possible so that he could get enough information to find him.

“Sounds promising,” he said. “Out of curiosity, how are you going to go about fulfilling your end of the bargain?”

The blonde emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed. She went to the door without a word and let herself out into the hall. Benson ignored her. His security staff would escort her off the estate.

“You will soon see,” Kennington said. “Now, then, as a member of the Frequency Guild Council, I assume you've heard the rumors about a certain alien relic that went missing from the Cadence Guild security vault?”

This was getting more interesting by the second. Maybe the guy wasn't a total whack job after all.

“There's talk going around that an artifact was stolen,” he said carefully. “Wyatt is keeping the whole thing quiet, but they say he's looking hard. He wants it back.”

“He wants to recover it because it is extremely unusual,” Kennington said. “It's made of a type of amber that no one has come across before. But not even Wyatt knows about the relic's unique properties.”

“What properties?”

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you, so I suggest a demonstration, instead.”

“If you think I'm going to waste my time—”

“I assure you, Mr. Landry, once you have seen what the ruby amber device can do, you will be extremely eager to form a partnership with me.”

“How are you going to demonstrate the damn thing if it's missing?”

“I'll let you in on a little secret, sir, something that no one else knows. There are two ruby amber artifacts in existence. I've got the other one.”

“In that case, why do you want a second one?”

“It is simply too powerful and too valuable to be left in the hands of people who have no idea what it can do.”

“Why make a deal with me?” Benson asked.

“I think, given the course of recent events, that your odds of recovering the second relic are much better than mine,” Kennington said.

“Why?”

“A variety of reasons. First, the person who knows the location of the other relic is currently in Frequency City. That is your town. As a Guild Councilman you can operate freely without inviting unwanted scrutiny. And last, but certainly not least, you have an intimate acquaintance with Celinda Ingram.”

The old rage welled up out of the dark pit inside Benson.

“How does that bitch come into this?”

“I do not believe that she currently has the relic in her possession, because if that were true, the Cadence Guild would have forced her to return it. But it appears that she knows where it is.”

Should have killed her when I had the chance
. Four months ago he had realized that Celinda had somehow sensed the deep well of darkness that was the source of his power; sensed it and feared it. For years he had been able to conceal the churning black pit from the rest of the world, but when she had refused to take him on as a client, he had known that she was aware of his secret. There was no other explanation for her actions. He was a member of the Guild Council, after all, the most powerful ghost hunter in town. No one turned him down.

But getting rid of her permanently four months ago would have been too risky, he reminded himself. The murder of the most exclusive matchmaker in Frequency would have launched a high-profile investigation. The police would have demanded Guild cooperation, and that old fool Harold Taylor would not have protected him.

“Let's say I agree to recover the second relic for you,” he said. “Why would I give it to you? If it has some valuable properties, as you claim, I'd want to keep it for myself.”

“You are, of course, free to do so,” Kennington said in that same smooth, annoyingly urbane tone. “But it won't do you any good. Even assuming you understood its unique properties, you would not be able to rez it.”

“Why not?”

“It requires a special type of psi talent:
my
kind. But in exchange for the recovery of the artifact, I will agree to employ the device on your behalf.”

“You really think you can use it to make sure I become the next boss of the Frequency Guild?”

“And everything else you want, Mr. Landry.” Kennington was practically purring. “Everything else. I trust that you will think of this arrangement as a mutually beneficial one. In your position as a man of increasing power and influence, you can help me in many ways. I, in turn, will use the device to take you as high as you wish to go. Do we have an agreement?”

“First I'll need to see what the relic can do.”

“Of course. I suggest we perform the demonstration immediately. You may choose the venue. There is just one stipulation.”

“What's that?”

“Like ghost light, the power of the relic is quite weak unless it is accessed underground or close to a source of alien psi.”

“My office is in the Old Quarter,” he said. He was getting jacked up. His instincts told him he was onto something important. “It sits directly over a hole-in-the wall.”

“That should do it. Also, for purposes of this demonstration, we will need an experimental subject.”

“Who?”

“It doesn't matter to me. One of your men, perhaps, or a member of your household staff.”

“Hang on.” Benson rezzed the bedside security intercom.

The guard at the gate answered immediately.

“Yes, Mr. Landry?”

“Has the woman left yet?”

“Miss Stowe? She's here now. One of the men is getting ready to drive her home.”

“Bring her back to the house. I'm not quite finished with her after all.”