The Stone Prince

  Jorlan jerked upright, intending to collect his weapons and destroy all four of the cursed men who had given him "lick her." But the action made his vision swim and his stomach lurch. He eased back down.

  "Lick her" was obviously a poison of some sort. There were many different types on his world and all were used for different reasons, but he was unfamiliar with the toxins of Katie's world. He suspected that the fiery concoction he'd consumed was not only used for incapacitating an enemy, but was also used as a truth serum.

  Too well did he recall the many questions Katie's siblings had drilled at him.

  "How long are you staying?"

  "Why are you leaving?"

  "What are your intentions toward Katie?"

  Jorlan was unsure how he had responded, but thought mayhap one of his answers caused a battle. Recalling a well-placed jab, he fingered his lip. Aye, there was a definite soreness. He did not recall the exact details, but he knew the fight had been four against one. Who had won, he was unsure. While he had once taken on nine rebel soldiers and emerged the victor, Katie's brothers were a much more imposing force.

  A sharp pain lanced through his head and Jorlan grimaced.

  He had to get up, had to fight the sickness. There was much to do this day. He stumbled from his bed. The action caused his stomach to gurgle, twist and lurch. He fought it, but soon realized it was a losing battle and raced to the bathing chamber where he heaved into the sink.

  After he'd emptied his stomach and scrubbed his mouth clean, he went in search of Katie. His steps were slow and careful as he uttered a prayer that she possessed some sort of antidote. If not, the pain in his stomach and head might kill him before the day ended.

  He found her perched at the kitchen counter, flipping through her thick, yellow "phone book" and sipping green liquid from a mug. Even with his senses dulled from pain, she was a sight to behold. Sunlight poured through a nearby window, caressing her with an angelic glow, paying her the glorious tribute she deserved.

  Beside her, a soft melody hummed from a magical black box. His first instinct was to attack, but then he noticed how her foot tapped in rhythm to the beat, and he remained in place. 'Twas like her talking "answering machine," he realized.

  Today Katie wore short, tight drocs and a brown top held in place by thick straps. Though both garments fit her curves like a second skin, neither the top nor bottom garment was truly an alluring piece, yet on her they looked stunning. Breathtaking. He could have gazed upon her exquisite loveliness forever.

  Which was strange, he thought, considering he'd judged her merely beautiful before. As he watched her chew on the end of a thin writing instrument, moving those lush lips up and down--mimicking an action he had often fantasized about in the last days--he decided he had the right of it now. The word beautiful did no justice to such ethereal perfection.

  This woman possessed a splendor beyond any he'd ever known.

  He must have made a sound, a groan of need, mayhap, because she swiveled and faced him.

  "Jorlan! Good morning." Her gaze raked over him, and her expression clouded with concern. "Not feeling so well, huh?"

  He scowled at the reminder. "I long to impale all four of your siblings onto a pike so that hundreds of hungry animals may gnaw upon their flesh. Mayhap then they will learn the proper respect for a warrior."

  "You still have yet to teach me," she muttered. Then she flashed her teeth in a wide smile. "Call me morbid, but I like seeing you like this. You're not quite so intimidating."

  "When have I ever intimidated you?"

  "Oh, you have," she confessed. "More times than I care to admit. Now have a seat before you topple over. I'll get you some coffee and aspirin. They're miracle cures, I promise you. They saved my life every time I overindulged." She hopped to her feet.

  Fast losing strength, he sank into the offered chair. "Did those devils once poison you, as well?"

  "No." She chuckled, a sound that skipped along his senses with an almost physical pleasure. "I did it to myself."

  "Why would you purposefully poison yourself?"

  She poured black liquid inside a cup and handed it to him. With deft movements, she opened cabinet after cabinet, searching inside. "The first time, I was mostly curious and didn't know when to stop. The few times after that, I made the mistake of drinking on an empty stomach."

  He rested his chin in his hand. "I had no idea you were such a masochist, katya."

  She stopped and swung to face him, palms on hips. She was frowning. "Just where did you learn that word?"

  "Many spans ago, a woman and her lover came to the garden and--"

  "Never mind," Katie interjected. "I don't want to know." She threw open the last cabinet. "I'm going to kill Nick," she ground out.

  "Not if I kill him first," Jorlan muttered darkly.

  "Every time he comes over, he rearranges my cabinets so I can't find anything the next day. This time I'm going to double kick that man's family jewels until he's singing soprano. That ought to teach him."

  Jorlan almost laughed. He did grin. The things this woman said could turn him inside out trying to understand, but for once he totally and completely grasped her meaning. And he was instantly glad he was not Nick James. A woman's wrath was one thing, but the wrath of Katie James was quite another.

  "Wait!" she exclaimed. "I found it." She whipped a small white bottle from the bottom shelf. After popping the top, she shook two pink tablets onto her hand. "Here." Palm outstretched, she offered him the pills. "Swallow. Don't chew."

  He weighed them in his hand, unsure how they could help him. With a shrug, he tossed each tablet into his mouth. He washed them down with a long gulp of coffee, almost gagging as the hot liquid scalded a path down his throat. Strawberry soda he liked; this he did not.

  "Are you, too, trying to kill me?" He glared over at Katie.

  She shrugged delicately. "Coffee is an acquired taste, I guess. I don't drink it often, but every once in a while I indulge."

  Scowling, he wiped the remaining liquid from his mouth. She watched him, following the action of his hand with her gaze. When he stilled, she leaned over the counter and rested her elbows on the speckled surface. A dazed, dreamy look entered her eyes, as if she were lost in some sort of fantasy. Just what was she picturing in that mind of hers? Knowing Katie, she was probably imagining herself swimming in a giant tub of her green liquid. Or mayhap, like him, was she suddenly imagining naked bodies and heart-pounding kisses?

  Jorlan's blood instantly kindled. They'd come close to coupling yestereve.

  So close.

  Two more minutes and he would have had her naked. Three more minutes and he would have been inside her. Four and he would have had her calling his name as wave after wave of pleasure hit her. He loved when she climaxed. When she'd experienced her pleasure that first time, he'd nearly spilled his seed, so intense had his delight been. He'd never witnessed anything quite so sensual.

  Curse Nick James!

  In the next instant, Katie shook her head, and her dreamy expression vanished. Jorlan wanted to rail at the heavens. Earnest now, she slid a single sheet of paper directly in front of him. "Look here," she said, oblivious to the riotous needs crashing through his body. Her fingertip brushed the side of his hand and he sucked in a breath. "I made a list of all the psychics in Texas. I've called most of them and crossed off the ones that seemed duplicitous. We have time to visit three, maybe four, then we have to go to work."

  Only one day ago he would have snatched up the list and demanded they visit each location until they found exactly what he needed. Right now, however, he didn't want to think past bedding Katie (when did he not think about bedding her?) and making her his temporary life-mate. Bedding her would have to wait until they had enough time to enjoy each other to the fullest, for he knew now that he would settle for nothing less than long, leisurely loving.

  The binding he could take care of now.

  Just how would she respond? He watched her, trying to pr
edict the outcome. Her hair cascaded down her back, thick and glossy, like a crown of brilliance reserved only for celestial creatures. Her expression was guarded. Slowly, so as not to alarm her, he pushed to his feet, stepped around the counter, and closed the distance between them. Positioned behind her, he clasped several tendrils of her hair to his nose, sniffed their floral essence, and caressed them over his cheek. His eyes closed in surrender. "Katya?"

  "Hmm?" She leaned back against him.

  "I would like you to go to Imperia with me."

  "What?" Katie spun around to face him, all of a sudden at a loss for words.

  "When we find a sorcerer, I want you to come with me to my homeland."

  He said it so simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to hop across one galaxy to another. The idea tempted her. Exploring alien homes, eating alien food, and best of all, sleeping in an alien bed with Jorlan. Could she abandon her work, though, for such a vacation? "How long would you want me to stay?"

  "However long you like." He propped his hip against the counter's edge, and pinned her with his cool blue stare. "Sorcerers abound in my homeland. When you are ready to depart, we will purchase an open vortex. 'Tis that simple."

  "No, it's not that simple. I hate to bring this up, but what if...what if you turn back to stone while we're there?"

  A muscle tightened in his jaw. "If you still cannot love me, we will return before the curse takes effect. Now, do you wish to go or not?"

  "I don't know," she hedged.

  "Would it help to know that you must wed me before you can travel with me?"

  Her mouth dropped wide open, and her knees nearly collapsed. "Wed you? I thought marriages between a sorcerer and a mortal were forbidden."

  "I am the son of a great-lord. I do what I please."

  "So you're really and truly asking me to marry you?" She was smiling, a genuine, happy smile, but she just couldn't help herself. It didn't seem to matter that what he was suggesting was ridiculous, that they'd known each other so short a time, and that he could very possibly be using marriage as a means of getting what he wanted. Joy was traipsing through her at an alarming rate.

  "My people would not accept you if you were not my life-mate, so aye, I am really and truly asking you to marry me. For a time," he added.

  For a time. The words echoed inside her mind, destroying her elation bit by bit.

  "I must warn you," he said, almost as an afterthought, "that I am unsure of the time difference between our worlds."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I suspect time passes more quickly here," he explained, "but how much more quickly, I know not."

  "So I could visit Imperia for five days, but when I return, five hundred years could have passed here?"

  His jaw tensed, and she knew he didn't want to answer, but he did anyway. "That is correct. Only one sorcerer has the power to manipulate time. My brother, Percen, the Druinn high priest. Yet he would never do anything to help me."

  Probabilities and possibilities drifted beneath her thoughts. If she chose to go with him, she could definitely return to Earth, but the Earth she knew might be very different from the Earth she left behind. She might never see Nick's mischievous grin. Never feel the warmth of Erik and Denver's hugs. Never again know the comforting haze of Gray's presence. Or hear Brian's husky laugh over the phone. All to stay with Jorlan for a time.

  "I'm sorry," she told him, casting her gaze to his chest. She didn't want to see his eyes, didn't want to see whether they darkened with disappointment or froze with indifference as she declined. "I can't marry you, and I can't go with you. My family is here."

  He nodded briskly, as if he understood what motivated her, but didn't like it. "I will give you time to think on it."

  Now her gaze snapped to his. "I don't need time. I just gave you my answer."

  "That answer is not accepted. You need more time, and I am willing to give it to you."

  Part of her wanted to chuckle; part of her wanted to cry. Lord, this was hard, so very hard. Why did saying no have to be this difficult? She knew beyond a doubt that she was staying here, where she belonged. She knew, too, that he would go on without her and feel no remorse. Perhaps that was what hurt the most.

  Damn it! Why couldn't he have been the domineering chauvinist she'd first thought him? But nooo. He turned out to be so much more than a dictatorial tyrant. He turned out to be a Prince Charming. Beneath his "women are subservient" views beat the heart of a mighty yet gentle man whose touch melted her reservations and whose determination was heartening. No, she might not trust him, but she still desired him.

  She had to change the subject before she succumbed to tears. "Look, I'm going on my jog--that's a type of exercise where you run a far length," she explained at his confused expression. She needed to jog. "While I'm gone, you can change into your new clothes. Yesterday I bought you a pair of pants, some shirts, shoes, and, uh, some underwear. When I get back, we'll visit the locations on my list."

  "I must insist I jog with you."

  At first, she wanted to refuse him. Then she realized that getting oxygen to his brain might actually do him some good. She found his new jogging shoes and handed them to him. "Sure you can keep up? I run every morning, and you're battling a mighty hangover."

  "I will do more than keep up, katya, I will leave you far behind."

  He would, would he? His confidence helped her forget her sadness. Too, her competitive nature sprang to life. "Why don't you prove it, then?"

  "Always you demand proof. Well, this proof I will derive much pleasure in giving, for I long to see the expression on your face when the jog ends and you realize I have passed you. Twice." With that, he pulled on his shoes and led her out the door.

  The race was on.

  Twenty minutes ticked by, and she held her own. They didn't speak, so absorbed were they in their competition. They ran down a zigzag path a mile from her house. The path circled Earlywine Park and was designated specifically for runners. All around them the trees were radiant with shades of brown and green, and here and there pink-tipped flowers bloomed prettily. Twigs snapped beneath their pounding shoes. Dew kissed the air.

  Another five minutes passed under the strenuous pace. Never slowing, Jorlan removed his shirt and draped it over his shoulders. She opened her mouth to complain, but the words froze in her throat. His deeply tanned, muscled chest was glazed with a sheen of sweat, and beads of the liquid were dripping along the ridges of his abdomen. The sight distracted her. She stumbled. Chuckling, he increased his speed and moved ahead of her. Katie glared at his back. He'd done that on purpose, the cheater.

  By now, her muscles were burning with every step, but she too quickened her steps until she caught up with him. Another ten minutes passed. She was tiring, but didn't slow. Jorlan showed no signs of slowing, either, damn him.

  "Are we going to run forever?" she snapped, huffing and hating herself for it.

  "I can," was his casual reply.

  "Well, so can I," she growled and called forth every ounce of stamina she possessed. This man was not going to beat her!

  But damn it all, there had to be a way to end this.

  An idea immediately formed, and she wasn't surprised by the speed with which her mind was working. With all the oxygen pumping through her, she could have calculated the atomic mass of an elephant while devising a plan to end world hunger.

  "Race you to the house. Last one there has toilet duty." With that, she took off full speed ahead.

  He tried to pass her left side, but she veered in front of him, blocking his way. He moved to the right, but she had been anticipating the action and swerved to cut him off once again. Katie beat him to the door by half a second and nearly tripped over the newspaper lying on her porch. She managed to catch herself in time. "Ha! I won." The words left her throat on short, choppy gasps of air. She would have laughed in his face, but her chest felt like a volcano churning with lava.

  "You did not play fair, katy
a." He sounded winded.

  "Of course I didn't play fair, Jorlan. Where's the fun in that?"

  He opened his mouth to reply, but a car eased up her driveway, diverting his attention. Her alien immediately mutated into I-will-save-you superhero mode. Only when the car parked behind her truck and Gray emerged from the driver's seat did Jorlan relax. Her brother, however, looked stony and hard. A little hungover, but ready for battle all the same.

  Katie's smile of welcome evaporated. "Gray? Is everything all right?"

  He ignored her. Another man exited the car, and Gray spoke to him in hushed, angry tones. The man was an inch or two shorter than Gray, which put him only a bit taller than Katie. He had dark-brown hair and big puppy-dog eyes. Women probably went crazy for him. Had Katie met him a day ago, she might have gone crazy for him, too--at least for the first date. Now her thoughts were consumed with the warrior beside her.

  Gray moved to the porch. He didn't make any introductions. He got straight to the point. "I want to talk to you about last night, about some things Jorlan said to me and the boys."

  Though her brother was speaking to her, he was watching Jorlan. Katie gazed first at one man, then the other. Jorlan had his arms crossed over his chest; his eyes were narrowed to tiny slits; and his nostrils were flared. They were in some sort of high noon showdown.

  "He's leaving you in two weeks," Gray continued.

  "I know." Her shoulders sagged with relief. For a minute, she'd thought Gray meant to tell her Jorlan had confessed he was from another planet. "Now that that's settled, you have exactly five seconds to apologize for your behavior," she said, her tone sugary sweet, "or I'm going to snap your neck like a twig."

  The handsome stranger at Gray's side laughed. It was the first sound he had made during the entire exchange. "You said she was spunky, Gray," the man said, still laughing. "You didn't say she was homicidal."

  Gray decided then to make the proper introductions. "Katie, Jorlan, this is Steve Harris. Steve, this is my sister Katie and her friend, Jorlan. He's a romance cover model." His disgust over that fact lingered long after his words.

  This was Steve? Katie thought, surprised.

  This was Steve? Jorlan thought darkly. The man Katie's brothers wanted her to wed?