VirtualDesire (16 page)

“What happened? Where are we?” she asked him when the boat
had settled into as smooth a glide as could be expected on the choppy water.

Vad kept his eyes on the sail, and Gwen sensed he was not
going to be completely honest with her. “The Selaw attacked us. They were going
to cheat us over the bowls, so we decided to move on. The soap we were given
was tainted with hypnoflora. It muddled your mind.”

Gwen frowned. “I feel so…strange. And…I had the weirdest
dream…” Her body flashed hot. Sweat broke out on her skin. Her hand jerked on
the tiller.

He placed a hand over hers, and together they brought the
boat back on an even keel. “What did you dream?” he asked when he released her
hand.

“Oh…nothing…I mean…I can’t remember.” The lie would have to
satisfy him. There was no way she was going to tell him about her dream. She
could suddenly feel its effects. Her whole body felt bruised. In fact, she was
vaguely sore in all the wrong places. Her mouth hurt, too.

“Gwen?” He studied her face. It was almost as if he was
trying to see inside her mind. What could he read in her gaze or in the deep
blush of color on her cheeks? She lowered her eyes. “It’s stupid—just a dream. I
can’t even remember it. Just…I feel a little dizzy.” That at least was not a
lie.

The scenery changed from one moment to the next as they
rounded another bend. High black cliffs rose on either side. Jagged
lichen-covered rocks hung over their small boat. The clouds darkened overhead
to match the changing terrain. Deep purple shadows filled the crevices.

There would be no lights to guide them when the darkness
fell. No Tolemac moons glowed overhead. She hoped they’d get to the fortress
before dark. Her arms, back, and legs ached from sailing the boat.

Ardra pointed to a narrow offshoot of the river. “I think we
should stop a moment to plan how we will gain entrance to the fortress and to
eat,” she said.

Gwen gratefully guided the boat into the sheltering cove.

“We are but a short way from the fortress,” Ardra informed
them. “There are two ways into it. One is used only by my father and his chosen
ones—a waterway into an underground grotto. The other is the public way—over
the drawbridge—a way you cannot use. You might be recognized as from Tolemac
with your blue eyes. No man from Tolemac has ever entered the fortress.”

Vad nodded. “Who guards each entrance?” he asked. He leaped
onto a flat outcropping of rock and wrapped a rope around a jagged spur.

“The drawbridge is rarely raised now that we have peace. The
people of the area come and go as they please. Sentries man the ramparts. Able
archers all.”

“At the grotto entrance?”

“Four of my father’s men in watches of two on and two off.
Little more is needed. The cliffs hem in the boat; there is no way out once you
enter the canal leading to the fortress. How we will get past the guards, I do
not know, but if we succeed we can disappear in the many underground caverns.
If we choose the public way, many will see us, and my servants will immediately
come to see to my care.”

Vad made no comment, and Ardra continued her description of
the grotto. “Warm springs rise from the earth in the caverns. Once, they were
worshiping places of the ancients. The ways of the labyrinth were passed from
father to son. With no son to inherit, my father entrusted me with the way.”

“What’s to stop Ruonail from telling Narfrom how to get
around down there?” Gwen asked.

“It is not so simple that a single telling would suffice. It
took several years for me to learn. One must trace the paths, walk them often,
know the key to the markings. It is not something one learns quickly. Trust me,
only my father and I know the true nature of the labyrinth beneath the
fortress.”

Gwen scrambled out when Vad pulled them close enough to
disembark. “And if we can’t get into the fortress?” she asked him.

He met her gaze squarely. “The maidens will die.”

Gwen tucked her hands into her underarms. “I’ve seen enough
violence today to last me two lifetimes. Why can’t we go now and get it over
with?”

“I agree,” Vad said. “Do what you need to. I will prepare
food, and then let us be gone.”

A little glimmer of an idea as to how they might enter the
fortress had come to Gwen, but she wanted to think it through before telling
them.

She jumped across a small gap between rocks and stood at the
mouth of a large outcropping. Vad lifted Ardra across the gap and set her down.

After shaking out her snow white cloak, Ardra frowned up at
the sky. Gwen looked up, too. The sky, now filled with angry, grayish purple
clouds, looked low and threatening. Would it rain purple? High cliffs penned
them in. The terrain was cold, alien.

“What is wrong?” Vad asked Ardra, but it was at Gwen he
looked. She felt a strange discomfort from his intent inspection.

“I do not understand what is happening,” Ardra said. “The
weather is always fair after the harvest-time. This gathering of clouds is an
ill omen.”

“Just looks like rain to me,” Gwen said, rubbing her sore
rear. She caught Vad watching and stopped. A vision came to her of Vad kneeling
over her. Naked. Every detail of his body was edged in a golden shimmer, as if
a fire flickered behind him.

Gwen found herself staring at the long line of his
well-muscled thigh, the way his woolen tunic pulled taut across his shoulders.

She jerked from her reverie.
Stop it. He’s just flesh and
blood. Whatever dreams you’ve had, you’re awake now.
Still, warmth curled
through her insides.

She hopped from rock to rock until she was out of their
sight, then sat down, arms about her knees, and stared at the water. They
needed to get past the guards so they could rescue the maidens.

Just saying the words—
rescue the maidens
—sounded
absurd. The biggest thing she’d ever rescued was a seagull from a kite string.
The whole concept of what Vad proposed to do was insane. Believing she was in a
game was insane. And what possible help could she be to him? She couldn’t even
draw a bow, she was so weak.

Her reflection looked back at her in the waning light. “My
hair’s wrecked and I look like a giant lima bean.” As she brought her cupped
hands to her mouth to take a drink, she caught the scent of the soap from the
cottage.

The purple-stained sky spun. The water slid sideways.
“Uhhhh…”

“You were desirous of a swim?” Vad said as he snatched the
back of her cloak and hauled her away from the water’s edge.

“No. I-I-I feel so dizzy.”

Vad settled her a few feet from the rocky lip.

“The soap…” She held her hands close to his face.

Treating her with little gentleness, he scrubbed her hands
and used the point of the jeweled dagger to clean beneath her nails. She forced
herself to look away from his strong hands and long fingers.

What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she watch him do the
simplest thing without some erotic image taking over? She’d played
Tolemac
Wars II
countless times, turned him off without regret, laughed when Mrs.
Hill and other women went on and on about how spectacular he was.

Now she was worse than any rabid fan. She couldn’t look at
him without… An incredibly vivid image—his head bent to kiss her inner
thigh—made her jerk away from his hands. She could feel the rasp of his
unshaven cheek against her soft skin.

“Gwen? Something is wrong.” Vad cocked his head to the side.
He examined her with an intent scrutiny that made her insides chum.

“You’ll think I’m crazy—mad—if I tell you,” she whispered
back. She edged away from him.

“Perhaps I will; perhaps I will not.” His voice was low,
seductively so. The scar coursed his cheek like a dark ribbon of blood.

“I had this dream that we…”

He hissed in his breath.

The look on his face stopped her. “Did we?” she whispered.
He was silent. “Did we?” Her lips trembled, and she clamped her fingers over
them.

“It was not a dream,” he said equally softly. “Hypnoflora is
very…powerful.”

She bowed her head.
Not a dream. Reality. Each moment.
Every caress
. Tears burned against her eyes. What had she done? She had
slept with a man who had told her quite bluntly he did not trust her. She had
slept with a man she did not love—who would never love her.

He touched her bent head. “I did not complete the act. You
need have no fear of a child resulting.”

Great
. He did not complete the act. How cold he
sounded, despite the way he smoothed her hair with his warm hand.

“What stopped you?” He was a blur through her tears.

“Ardra. We were most fortunate she called me back to my
duty. Why are you crying? You will not bear a child.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about being pregnant.” What could she
tell him? “I’m just having a delayed reaction to that hypno stuff. My eyes are
bothering me. You probably don’t have problems like that here. Eat too much of
something, drink the wrong stuff in Ocean City, and your eyes water, your nose
gets all puffy and red—”

“I see,” he said, but his voice said he did not believe her.

“Anyway…I can’t get…have a child.”

He rubbed away her tears with his thumb. “You are barren?”

“In a way.” His hands were so comforting, but his voice had
a hard edge that made her pull away from his seductive warmth. She extended her
arm and tapped the inside of her upper arm. “I have an implant.”

“Implant?” He took her arm. He skimmed his thumb along the
inner flesh. Even through the heavy layers of clothing, he had the power to
arouse her.

“Yes. In Ocean City we’ve figured out ways to prevent…birth.
When Bob and I first lifemated, we wanted to wait a few years until we,” her
throat tightened, “we had children. I had this thing put in my arm. It keeps
you barren for years—I mean conjunctions—until you have it removed.”

His fingers tightened on her arm. “Then you are free to be
where your whim leads you.”

A heavy silence fell. The air between them crackled with
something she didn’t want to explore—was afraid to explore. She had to push him
away.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You probably lie about all
the time,” she said.

He frowned. “You are my first in three conjunctions.”

Now why would he lie about such a thing? “Sure. And pigs
fly.” She jerked her arm from his grip.

“Perhaps pigs fly in Ocean City, but here they merely trot.
And I have not had a woman in three conjunctions.”

Gwen inspected his face. The dark shadows hid much of his
thoughts. His awareness training would probably hide the rest even if she could
see him clearly.

He raked his hand through his hair, snagged his fingertip in
a braid, and jerked it free. The loose hair tumbled across his brow. “It is
difficult to forgo pleasure.”

Yes
. She hadn’t realized just how difficult. How she
wanted that pleasure again, wanted to experience the full measure of a man’s
desire. She wanted to wrap herself in his strong arms and lose herself in that
dream again, to feel his body moving over hers, to feel again the turmoil of
emotions she’d not realized she so desperately missed.

But he would feel none of those things. “Why did you make
love to me?”

“Hypnoflora.”

Her head ached. “It was nothing more?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just…that you cared for me.”

“I have always cared for my partner’s pleasure.” His voice
was low, soft, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Of course. If they didn’t find pleasure, that would reflect
on your skill as a lover, wouldn’t it? That would be a real kick in the pants.
It wouldn’t do for anyone to say the Tolemac warrior is a lousy lover.”

She felt rather than saw him shrug.

Bitterness swept through her. He could make love to any
woman he wanted—a different one each hour, if he was capable. She pictured
women lining up to take a number. And lousy or not, he’d probably remain in
each woman’s dreams for years to come. Why should he care about their feelings?

He rose and offered her his hand. She ignored it. She felt
small and insignificant. A rising wind tugged at her cloak and his, snapping
them in the air, punctuating her agitation. Ardra was forgotten.

“I see my answer did not satisfy you. What is it you desire?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, and didn’t.
Desire
. It
filled the air about them, touched them like wings beating against the
imprisonment of a cage.

He lowered his head, encircled her waist. His kiss was not
the urgent, heated one of her dreams. No, this kiss was gentle, a whisper of a
touch across her lips, like walking into a cobweb.

“I know what you desire,” he said between kisses. His
fingers were warm as they stroked up under her cloak to caress her. Ripples of
sensation ran through her, making her shiver.

He skimmed a kiss over her eyelids. Instantly her body
trembled in a liquid rush. With a moan, she jerked away. “Don’t.” What had she
done? She felt like a teenager caught in the backseat of a car.

“Why do you stop? You want me, too.”

“I can’t.”

“You are protected. Your body wants me.” He pulled her hard
against him. “My body wants you.”

“But my heart doesn’t want you.”

He reacted immediately. He stepped back as if burned. “Your
heart?”

“It’s just occurred to me that when I next make love, I want
it to be with someone who wants only me. Someone who hasn’t had a thousand
women.”

Her words hit him like small daggers thrown from close
quarters.
A thousand women.
“Is that what you think of me?”

“I have only to look at you to know every woman in Tolemac has
probably been panting after you since you were old enough to have a wet dream.
And I’m sure you didn’t turn too many of them away.”

“And how many men have you had with your protected arm?”

“Two, if it’s any of your business. R. Walter and Bob. I
loved them both—with all my soul.”
And I lost them both
. She closed her
cloak and knotted her hands in the rough wool. “What do
you
desire, Vad?
Just a quick tumble here, with Ardra only a few feet away? Well, that’s not the
way I want it.”

Without a backward glance at her, he spun away. The icy wind
might scour his skin raw, but her words harrowed his spirit.

What had possessed him to embrace her? To even consider
making love to her?

And how could he tell her how empty it was to lie with a
woman who could not see beyond his face and form? Who cared nothing for the man
inside, did not care if his heart was good or evil—was quite willing to excuse
anything for what he might offer.

How many women had he lain with in his short life? Too many
to feel comfortable admitting the number. Too few who cared for him beyond the
few moments he granted them the right to touch him, slide their hands over his
body, draw from him that blissful spasm of ecstasy. The emptiness had driven
him to make a vow that he would not lie with a woman unless she was to be his
lifemate.

In the space of one day, he had cast aside his vow as if it
had no meaning. The hypnoflora was no excuse. He had wanted Gwen from the
moment he had seen her on the ice fields.

What was it she desired? A mating with a man who offered his
heart.

And what was it
he
desired?

Why had he withheld himself from so many women for so long
and then taken the first opportunity to lie with her? A woman who held him in
contempt? A woman who demanded he work for her every kind word?

The wind whipped the water to a white-capped froth. The
purple cloud-covered sky illuminated nothing—including his inner turmoil. “I
must see my awareness master,” he said to the wind. He touched the jeweled
dagger at his hip.

The map.

The map inside would free him from suspicion, reinstate his
respect.

He knew now how to answer her. He desired one thing and one
thing only. It was not a woman. It was not that hot, quick twist of the guts
one received with the pleasure of lovemaking. No. He desired one thing only—the
return of his honor.

He would present the map, face the perfidy of the council,
and show himself above it. Ancestors or not, he would make his own name, than
lifemate with a woman whose lineage was a prized jewel. He could think of
several. And as Gwen had said, what woman wouldn’t want him?

His face assured his success with whichever woman he chose.
Other skills would see she spent her moments in his bed well contented, full
with child at each conjunction.

When Gwen could finally face him, and no longer resist the
scent of the meat he was cooking, she returned. That they were waiting for her
was obvious. They had eaten and were sitting idly by the boat. She ate quickly,
licked her fingers, and sighed. “What was that?”

“Eel,” Ardra said.

“Uh…never mind.” In Gwen’s estimation, an eel was a leech
grown to mutant size. “Next time can you tell me what the meal is before I eat
it?” she asked Vad.

He shrugged but didn’t respond.

“We must be on our way,” Ardra said as she settled herself
like a queen in the bow.

Gwen took her place again and Vad cast off. Her insides
churned with uncertainty at his silence. When he helped her hoist the sail, she
took the opportunity to speak.

“Vad? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. I don’t
know why I said those things. I guess I didn’t want to admit I was just like—”

“All the other women I have had?” he said, acid dripping
from his words.

She secured the sail. “No woman likes to think she’s just
another conquest.”

“Then keep your distance…or you will be.”