StoneHardPassion (11 page)

Jasmina stopped, stared for a moment at the title of the
book in front of her nose.
Kissing for the Uninitiated.
A giggle rose in
her chest as she realized the book must be from when he was young, just getting
interested in women. A warm, sweet ache flooded her chest as she imagined him
at that age, trying to make sense out of the opposite sex and what was supposed
to happen when he started dating. Only too well she remembered her mother’s
discomfort as they had
the conversation
, and how totally unnerving it
all had seemed. Her smile faded as she realized Vidar hadn’t had anyone to
explain sex, relationships, any of it to him.

Somehow I doubt his goddess would take on such a task.

He’d had to teach himself, and she thought he’d done a
magnificent job.

Turning the book over in her hands, she went to put it back
on the shelf, then paused with it suspended in midair. It looked awfully new, shiny,
although the spine showed signs of wear. And the author—wasn’t she the latest
sensation? Billing herself as the Sorceress of Love, with a late-night show on
the Witch Channel? Why would Vidar buy a book like that?

Slowly, she turned it over in her hands and, with a weird,
hollow feeling in her belly, opened it somewhere in the middle. There was a
highlighted section, and her eyes immediately went to it.

If you’re unsure, take your time. Learn your lover’s
mouth with your own, the shape of his or her lips, the way they move against
yours. Then use the tip of your tongue to explore. No sloppy licking now,
please. Their lips may be sweet, but they’re not an ice-cream cone.

And in the margin, in neat, surprisingly small writing:

Not sure I’d be able to restrain myself if I ever got the
chance to kiss J. Have to try to keep my head enough to go slowly.

She slapped the book shut, a mixture of shock and horror
rising into her throat. It sounded as though…

Jasmina shook her head.

Nah. No way.

Her gaze rose from the lurid cover of the book in her hand
to the shelf she’d gotten it from. The next book over was
Making it Worth
Her While
, subtitled
Making Love for Idiots
. After that was
Being
Shy Won’t Make Her Come
, followed by
Better Late Than Never
. And, as
if it needed explaining, the latter had in small, red letters along the spine,
Losing
Your Virginity After 30, or 300
.

Jasmina tried to take a deep breath, but it stuck in her
throat.

No. Fucking. Way.

After shoving the book back onto the shelf, she stumbled over
to the nearest chair, getting to it just before her trembling legs gave out.

She’d been his first? Inconceivable! He was so good at
making love, seemed so confident. Every time had been amazing, wonderful,
absolutely perfect. And yet his shyness, his reluctance at first, even when she
pretty much threw herself at him, made it seem more possible.

Covering her face with her hands, Jasmina tried to get her
head to stop spinning long enough to think. If she’d known, she’d have…

What? Been gentle with him?

A rough laugh broke from her throat. In all honesty, she
probably wouldn’t have initiated the relationship at all. Just thinking about
the responsibility of taking his virginity made her tremble with nervousness,
even though the deed was already done.

I’m his first, his only lover.

It awed and humbled her, made warmth and love bloom and grow
in her chest. How precious was the knowledge that he’d picked her for his first
sexual experience, had even tried to learn as much as he could so as to make it
good for her too? She hugged her arms around her waist, still in a daze. By the
stars, she hoped it had been worth the wait for him. She knew he’d enjoyed it.
For fuck’s sake, he couldn’t get enough now…

Jasmina drew a ragged breath, the thought echoing with
sickening force through her head.

Now that he knew what to do, knew how good it felt, would he
want to experiment, find other women to sleep with? Sure, he said he loved her.
Of course he’d feel that way about his first. Didn’t everyone? Until the
novelty wore off and he started wondering what else lay out there in the world
he was only starting to explore.

For most beings she knew, sex was as natural as breathing.
There would be no shortage of women available and eager to broaden his
knowledge. Jasmina imagined him realizing that, wanting someone else, and the
pain of it made her gasp. Jinn women were supposed to be used to sharing their
men, since most were one of several wives, but just the thought of sharing
Vidar with another woman made Jasmina slightly nauseated. Somehow she’d just
assumed that, like her, he’d had his share of sexual experience and would now
be willing to settle down.

Being his first changed all that.

“By the stars, Vidar.” Her voice was a croak, threatening
tears making her throat tight and painful. “Why didn’t you tell me, so I could
be prepared?”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” His voice came
from behind her, causing her to spin around in the chair. Like his expression,
his tone was cold and hard, and ice skittered down her spine. “But I was about
to ask you the same question.”

Chapter Eleven

Vidar was clearly enraged, but there was something different
about his anger this time. Maybe because she knew him better now, the stark,
contained cast of his face, his stiff posture seemed to radiate more than just
anger. He seemed…she couldn’t be exactly sure. Hurt maybe? Perhaps even sad?
Had he been there when she was looking at the books? No, that wasn’t possible.
She’d have seen him when she crossed to the chair. And if she didn’t know better,
she could swear there was a tingle of magic in the air, as though he’d just
translocated into the room.

Her heart started racing, and she wasn’t sure why.

Jasmina got to her feet to face him. “What are you talking
about?”

The muscle in the side of his face was ticking and he didn’t
reply, just held out his hand. In his palm sat a tiny, bejeweled gold box, one
of the devices used by the jinn to communicate securely with each other.
Horribly familiar, since it was emblazoned with the royal Elalmadhoun crest.

Her heart stopped for a moment. Her blood turned to ice. The
room swam sickeningly and she had to clutch the back of the chair for balance.

“Where did you get that?” Shock made her voice shrill and,
when he didn’t reply immediately, she asked again, this time with fear spiking
into her belly. “Vidar, where did you get it?”

“I went to see your brother, Your High—”

“Don’t!” By the stars, she wanted to blast him into a
thousand pieces for that, her anger so sudden, hot and fierce she could feel
sweat break out across her entire body. “Don’t you
dare
call me that.”

His brows lifted. “But isn’t that your official title?”

“Fuck off.” Rage, fear and threatening heartbreak put her on
the defensive, made her want to show him how far she was from that title. From
anything to do with that stilted, falsely polite world. “Do I look or sound
like a fucking princess to you? If you met my brother, the comparison should be
clear.”

Vidar’s head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowed, but his
voice was low and expressionless as he replied, “Actually the resemblance is
marked. Any doubts I had about whether he was your brother were put to rest the
moment I saw him.”

Jasmina closed her eyes, shutting him out as she tried to
rein in the anger, fight the terror. There were only a few feet of space
between them, but it felt as if a chasm had opened at her feet, trapping them
on opposite sides.

She tightened her hold on the chair just to have an anchor
against the ugly, devastating emotions battering her heart. Right at this
moment she actually hated him, hated that he’d destroyed the peace she’d found
with him, the love. How could he go behind her back to do something like this?

“Don’t you want to hear what your brother had to say?”

Still expressionless, his voice seemed to come from a
distance, and it jolted her, brought her back to herself. Schooling her face,
drawing on the very palace training she’d grown to despise, she opened her
eyes.

“I suppose I must, since you went to so much trouble to
speak to him.”

Almost shocking, even to her, how cool she sounded. And her
hand was steady as she held it out for the box. Actually, her entire body felt
encased in ice, as though the coldness from Vidar’s eyes had flowed into her
bones.

The box was still hot from his hand, but she resisted the
urge to close her fingers around it, capture some of the warmth. Instead she
immediately murmured the spell to unlock it and the golden casket disappeared,
releasing the image of her brother that had been trapped inside. Ahmet looked
older, which was surprising since jinn men often used glamours to retain their
youthful appearance. Older, sterner and just a bit tired, probably from
assuming what had been their father’s responsibilities.

Tears prickled her eyes, as she acknowledged for the first
time just how much she missed him.

“Jasmina Binaar, my sister.” Ahmet’s image smiled, and
Jasmina found herself smiling back through her tears. “I hope this message
finds you, since the first one I sent didn’t. Your friend, Vidar Jarlsen, has
told me how you learned of our father’s death, and I wanted to reassure you I
had nothing to do with Mahmud’s unwelcome visit. Our paths may have diverged,
sister, but you must know I would never do anything to hurt or frighten you.”

Oh, she wished he truly were in the room, so she could tell
him how much his words meant to her. Instead, she could only sink back down
into the chair and listen as his image continued to speak.

“Vidar also told me of Mahmud’s words concerning our
father’s protection, and I made inquiries. Father’s Vizier says the stopper for
your bottle was secreted away, perhaps even disenchanted so it couldn’t be
used. It’s safe in the palace vault, and I have ordered it be found, so as to
make sure. Have no fear, little sister. The protection our father put in place
for you remains, just as mine will always remain. And since I am not bound to
the old-fashioned ways, and our father’s injunction against any of the family
contacting you died with him, there will now always be a place here for you.
Come home whenever you wish, my sister.”

He had been speaking in the common tongue, but now he
switched to jinn, and although his smile didn’t change, the twinkle in his eyes
increased. “Somehow I don’t think you’ll take me up on that invitation,
although I hope you’ll visit. I like your troll, Jasmina. He truly cares about
your safety and although he seems unsophisticated there can be great strength
in simplicity—something I think most of our kind has forgotten, to our
detriment.”

Changing back to the common tongue, Ahmet continued. “If you
have need of my assistance in any way, contact me immediately, Jasmina Binaar.”
His expression had all the haughtiness of a king, but she knew there was
tenderness underneath. “Don’t let your pride and independence stand in the way.
Health and happiness, my sister, and I look forward to the day we will be
reunited.”

It was only as his image faded that Jasmina realized tears
were streaming down her cheeks, and she swiped at them with the edge of her
sleeve. Ahmet was right to think she would never return to live in Eldmar. But
knowing her homeland was no longer a place of danger, that her family missed
her, loosened the hard ball of pain she’d carried in her heart since she left.

And it was thanks to Vidar’s willingness to put his own
comfort aside so as to see to hers.

“Oh, Vidar.” She turned to him, wanting to share the moment.

He was gone.

Her first instinct was to go after him. She even got up,
took a step toward the door, but then stopped. His anger lingered, tainting the
air and mixing with her doubts and fears to lessen the joy brought about by her
brother’s message. Sinking back into the chair, Jasmina stared at the door, her
mind a welter of confusion. The last hour had been one revelation after
another, and she didn’t even know how to react.

Shit, shit, shit.

Should she find him, brave his anger, try to talk to him? Or
would it be better to give him time? Dammit,
she
wanted time to come to
grips with everything. How much worse was it for Vidar? His first love affair,
discovering her roots, realizing she’d lied to him—by omission, but a lie
nonetheless—must be confusing and painful. It would probably be better to let
him think everything through before she tried to speak to him.

Or was she being cowardly?

Part of her wanted to just leave it alone, walk away now,
rather than try to work it out. Nothing about their situation boded well for a
permanent relationship. Jinn culture didn’t place much store in following the
heart. For the most part they made business arrangements, not love matches.
From what she’d read, troll men lived pretty freewheeling lifestyles, while the
women took care of whatever family they created. Even without the other issues,
was it even realistic to dream of a life with Vidar?

Yet, her aching heart told her if she didn’t try to make
some kind of effort, she’d regret it for the rest of her life.

She translocated into the kitchen, heard distant sounds of
the flock on the move, the occasional bark as Ragnor and Rokk herded the sheep.
Walking to the open door, she looked out into the day meadow in time to see the
animals going through the rock gate. Vidar was following, and even from a
distance, with only the light of the moon and the glimmer of torchlight to aid
her vision, his posture seemed stiff, his usual grace lacking. Rokk, seeming to
sense her presence, turned his huge head and gave a
yip
of greeting.
With a sharp word Vidar brought the wolf’s attention back to his work, and
Jasmina’s courage failed her.

Backing away from the door, she leaned on the counter,
heart-sore, tears once more stinging her eyes. With everything she’d been
through in her long, storied life, she couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt
so fragile, as though the wrong word or look would cause her to shatter.

Impossible to face him right now, when she was so weak and
on the verge of uncharacteristic weeping. When they next spoke she wanted to at
least give the appearance of strength, of having her shit together. There was
so much they had to discuss, and there was no way of knowing where the conversation
would lead. If he wanted to end it, she didn’t want to turn into a blubbering
mess in front of him. A hiccupping sob broke from her throat and she wiped at
her cheeks.

Get a grip.

Jasmina glanced at the chronometer. By her estimate, it was
about three hours until sunrise. She couldn’t spend the time here, surrounded
by the memories they’d made over the last few magical days.

And they were magical, in the only truly beautiful meaning
of the word. It had nothing to do with glamour, illusion and enchantment, but
had completely transported her, opening her to emotions she never thought she’d
experience. It was worth fighting for. Vidar was worth fighting for.

Straightening her spine, she took a deep breath and forced
herself to come to a decision. She did need time to herself to think it all
through, would go back to her place for a little while, come back after sunrise
and talk it out with him. Maybe she’d even pop in to the Café, just to let her
friends there know she was okay. The normality of that appealed to her, and a
good dose of Ula’s tart wit wouldn’t hurt either.

Not giving herself time to think about it anymore, she
magicked herself into some clothes and called her traveling bag to her.
Superstitious as it may seem, she still couldn’t bear to leave her bottle
behind. Enchanting a message for Vidar took the last of her strength, and she
only just held it all together. As soon as she finished, the tears started to
fall again, and as she translocated away, she found herself praying.

Freyja watch over him, keep him safe as you always have.

How sterile and cold her apartment felt, despite the
colorful décor. And even here memories of Vidar predominated. It was there, on
the floor, they had first made love.

Where I took his virginity.

The shock over that had faded a little, and she understood
why he hadn’t said anything. He may have been inexperienced, but he was still
very much a man, with a man’s pride. When would the right time have been to
bring it up?
Excuse me, Jasmina, you hussy. Before you suck my cock, I think
I should tell you I’m a virgin.

No. Rather like her origins, it wasn’t something easy to
talk about, especially with someone you cared for and were attracted to. Just
like her, he was probably worried that the truth would scare her away. And they
both had been right to worry. Look at where they were now.

Sighing, Jasmina tossed her bag on the couch and went into
the kitchen for her watering can, noticing the communication cube on the
counter for the first time. Not surprising she hadn’t seen it the last time she
was at home. There had been other things on her mind…like getting into Vidar’s
pants.

Fuck it, Jasmina. Can you stop thinking about him for
even a second?

Apparently not, since her next thought was of how paltry her
collection of plants looked in comparison to Vidar’s greenhouse. And as she
went about the chore of watering them her mind drifted to the night before,
when he’d brought her a spike of purple orchids, used the soft, fragrant
flowers to trail over her skin. Just the recollection made her shiver, her
breath catching in her throat at the memory of his gentleness, the hours of
lovemaking that followed.

He was both the most tender and most demanding lover she’d
ever had but, beyond that, he was also the most intriguing man she’d ever
known. His curiosity rivaled her own, but it was his intelligence and character
that attracted her most of all. And the way he looked at her…

She shivered again, aware of the goose bumps fanning across
her body, the instant tightening of her nipples and tingling heat between her
legs. Just one sweep of his intense gaze could make her want him again. Shit,
just thinking about it made her horny. After a lifetime of enjoying sex it was
a little intimidating to crave it this desperately, especially from just one
specific man. What would she do if she lost him?

Pain squeezed her heart, made the breath hitch in her chest.
Hopefully the message she’d left would pave the way for her return. If he
rejected her, she wasn’t sure she would be able to stop herself from begging,
despite how distasteful she found the thought.

By the stars, you have it bad.

A harsh chuckle broke from her throat as she went into the
kitchen to put down the watering can. Ula would have a field day once it came
out Jasmina had slept with Vidar, although if things didn’t work out there was
no way she’d let on to the others how far things had gone. It wouldn’t be fair
to him when he came back to get his tattoo finished.