The Stone Prince

  For some reason, that sounded like such a good idea. "Well, you're tall. I think that is sooo sexy."

  "Hmm. What else?"

  "At the house that first night, when you were naked, I kept looking down and all I could think about was how big you were and how wonderful you would feel buried deep inside me."

  He stilled. His arms, which were wrapped around her waist, pulled her closer into his embrace. "'Tis very intriguing, that desire of yours."

  "Want me to tell you your bad qualities? They're bad, very, very bad." She didn't give him time to answer. "You're an alien." She rose up and glared at him accusingly. "Why'd you have to be an alien?" Too heavy to hold up, her head plopped back onto his shoulder. She sighed, disappointment and need trickling from her lips in a steady stream.

  He arched a brow. "What else is bad about me?"

  Her brow furrowed. "I don't remember." Why was the room spinning? "I have a disease, you know?"

  "Disease?" The word lashed from his lips with the force of a tornado. "Why did you not tell me before? Should we take you to a healer?" His eyes were the color of a starless night, both blue and black and almost surreal.

  "A healer can't help me." Her fingers hooked onto the waist of his jeans. "My disease is fatal."

  "Whether you want to or no, you are going to my world, katya, and I will find you a healer." His arms held her so tightly she was fast losing her breath. "I will listen not to your protests."

  "I know you're just saying that 'cause you don't want me to die before I fall in love with you. But what if I can't? I mean, what if I'm incapable of loving a man? Did you ever think of that? I'm dying of First Date Syndrome, after all. Ever heard of it?"

  "You are dying from First Date Syndrome?" he asked, incredulous.

  "That's right."

  He growled low in her ear. "Do not ever do that again, woman. I thought you were truly sick."

  "I am. I'm sick in the head. I've never made it past the first date. Maybe, if you were from here, I'd go on a second date with you. Maybe then I'd love you." Gently stroking her hands up and down his back, she explained about some of the horrid evenings she'd endured. Once she thought he chuckled, but she knew she was mistaken. They were discussing something very serious here, something that affected her entire life. But her head was whirling uncontrollably, and she forgot what she wanted to tell him.

  "Jorlan," she whispered. "I think I'm going to pass out."

  And she did, sliding down into a liquor-soaked darkness.

  SOMEHOW, AND JORLAN HAD no idea how, he managed to drive Katie to a nearby lodging without getting either of them killed. The transportation was not easy to manage, but neither was the snoring Katie. He had to pay for a new chamber with Katie's green paper, since he could not recall where their first lodging was located.

  As he carried her to their new room, Katie moaned sporadically. He blamed himself for her condition.

  He had watched her consume the truth serum "lick her" yet had done nothing to stop her. Too much had he longed to question her, to discover the truth of her feelings for him. Only, she had fainted before he had the chance to delve too deeply.

  He had learned some interesting facts, however.

  The woman thought of him as her property. The knowledge was more potent than any healing concoction, and he smiled as he recalled the way she had threatened the dark-tressed woman. He had thought Maylyn loved him, but Maylyn had never been possessive of him. She had been content with what time he could give her, unconcerned if he spent time with another female.

  Katie's possessiveness was indeed a glorious sight. Watching her face down the brunette had caused need to smolder in his blood, and he'd wanted to strip Katie down and plunge deep inside her right there at the bar, while the music blared around them and the smoke billowed like a hidden alcove.

  Such thoughts could do him no good now. The hour was late, and they had much to do on the morrow. Inside their small, private chamber, he stripped Katie of her clothing--except for the black material that guarded her feminine portal. Very pretty. The dark fabric against her pale skin was the most ethereal sight he'd ever beheld. As he gazed down at her, his breath heated in his lungs. Her breasts were the perfect size for his hands. Her waist dipped and flared in all the right places.

  He'd once noticed freckles on her shoulders and wondered if she had any elsewhere. He now knew she did. Three perfect freckles dotted her stomach. The sight tantalized him, made his body harden all over. He wanted to curse, for he knew these twilight hours would offer him no release, only a sweet kind of torture.

  Carefully he placed her in the bed. After stripping down to nothing except skin, he climbed in beside her.

  He smiled the entire night.

  IT WAS THE WARMEST PILLOW she had ever owned.

  Katie snuggled deeper into the mattress, letting the pillow's heat seep into her flesh. She skimmed her leg upward, found something hard and hot to prop her knee against, and sighed contentedly.

  Jorlan's clean, unique scent enveloped her, giving her a little taste of heaven. She felt so safe, so secure, and she never wanted to leave this warm refuge. Her head ached a bit, but other than that she felt absolutely wonderful.

  Somewhere in her conscious mind, she heard a loud crack of thunder boom. Heard rain beat rhythmically against the window. Instead of luring her to sleep, the pitter-patter of rain helped clear the sleepy fog from her mind.

  She stretched. Smiled. Stretched again. Hmm, such hard, delicious warmth...

  She stilled.

  Hard?

  Delicious?

  Katie's eyes popped open. She was practically naked. Jorlan was completely naked. And they were in bed. Together.

  And it was quite obvious his body liked the contact.

  She debated whether to lie back down or run for cover. Finally, Katie scooted away. Just what had happened last night? She knew she and Jorlan hadn't made love because her body felt the same. Still, there was something so intimate about waking in a man's arms.

  Her gaze caressed his sleeping form. Biting her lip, she tugged at the sheet, showing more and more--

  "Good dawning." Jorlan's sexy voice rumbled through the cover of silence.

  He was awake! Suddenly panicked, she jerked to her feet, taking the sheet with her--which left his nakedness in full view. She tried not to look; she really did. But wow! "What are you doing in my bed?" she demanded, more for the sake of her sanity than anything else.

  Unfazed by the fact that his muscled glory was bared for her scrutiny, he watched her. His mouth curled up in a lazy smile. The kind of smile that always preceded trouble. "I am not in your bed. You are in mine."

  "How did I get here?" She searched the room and discovered totally foreign surroundings. "Where are we?"

  "I could not find the place you picked, so I purchased us a chamber in this establishment." Cozy as a kitten, he stretched, eyeing her through half-lowered lids. "Do you not recall?"

  Yes, she remembered and suddenly wished she didn't. With that memory came remembrance of the way she'd acted at the bar. She'd threatened a woman for him. She'd plastered herself against him on the dance floor. She'd admitted how sexy he was. Her cheeks warmed. She turned away. "I have to use the bathroom."

  Jorlan sat up. "I shall join you."

  "No, you won't!" And with that, she slammed the bathroom door shut and clicked the lock in place. "You did not have my permission to sleep with me," she shouted to the wooden barrier.

  "I was protecting you," he called.

  She wasn't that stupid. She knew what he'd been doing. Copping a feel, that's what. Gazing into the mirror, she watched her lips lift in a smile. Then she sighed. If she wasn't careful, that man was going to have her begging to go with him to his planet, even though he only wanted her on a temporary basis.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE NEW DAWNING HAD BEGUN so sweetly with Katie in his arms, and now Jorlan almost resented the fact that he had to leave the rented chamber. He wanted to coax he
r back into bed. But alas, she had balked so adamantly about his taking her from her work that he knew she would not countenance any more delays.

  But one day soon they were going to make love and nothing was going to stop them.

  He rose from the soft comfort of the bed and dressed. Katie emerged moments later, and they were off. At the new psychic's abode, he discovered what he had been searching for since first awakening to Katie's kiss.

  Magic.

  Magic enveloped him the moment he stepped inside the shop called Vortex. The name should have made him realize 'twas what he needed sooner. He paused a moment, breathing in the sweet, rain-kissed essence so like the air of his homeland. So like Katie. Yet, as he stood with the wondrous scent in his nostrils, he had trouble believing this much anticipated moment was upon him. How long had he prayed for this? How long had he wished?

  Too long.

  Squaring his shoulders, he studied the dwelling. The carpet was beige, as were the walls. There were no frivolities or bottles displayed on stands. Incense did not fill the air. Nay, the place showcased only a long, thin counter.

  Several people loitered about, talking, laughing, and exchanging information. But Jorlan paid them no heed. He was too intent on the lone man standing behind the counter. The man was short and had thinning brown hair, eye spectacles and high blade-like cheekbones that could have cut glass.

  "This is it, isn't it?" Katie asked, suddenly beside him. Those were the first words she had spoken to him since leaving the rented chamber. "This is it," she repeated, her tone laden with a strange pitch he could not identify. "It feels different than the others."

  Her observation amazed him, for no magic beat within her veins. She was not a child of the Druinn, nor did she possess the soul of the ancients. Yet she knew, just as he did, that true power beat within these walls. Mayhap he should not have been surprised. She had been attuned to his feelings since the beginning.

  "'Tis the magic you feel. Magic that can take me home."

  "Home?" She said the word as if she'd never heard it before, then lapsed once more into silence. Her gaze darted around the room. Her features were tense with...what? He did not know. He could not read the emotion shining so brightly in her eyes.

  "This magic is not born of your world, but of mine." Jorlan breathed deeply. "The vibration is very strong, the essence quite unique, and almost familiar. Whoever this sorcerer is, he is very powerful."

  "I see."

  Now he recognized that pitch. Accusatory. She spoke as if she'd just discovered him standing over a dead body, talon in hand. He turned to her, took her chin in his hands. "We could leave today, together, if you would only agree to come with me."

  "I've already explained my reasons for staying." Her expression was sad and resentful at the same time.

  His eyes narrowed. "I cannot go without you, katya. This you know."

  "I--"

  "Before you again say no, recall that I have not seen my home in a thousand spans. I am...begging you." The words emerged stiffly. "Please. Come with me."

  "If it weren't for the time difference, I would. I'd leave with you today, now, this instant." Moisture pooled in her eyes, and he experienced a twinge of guilt for pushing so insistently. But then she blinked and glanced away. "I'm sorry. I can't risk it."

  He knew she meant more than just risking a trip to his homeland. She meant love. She couldn't, wouldn't risk loving him. He tasted sickness at the back of his throat, felt the cold edge of stone course through him. He forced himself to calm. Whether she denied it or not, he was making progress with her, and he would continue to do so, even if he had to double his efforts. He refused to even contemplate the fact that her love might spring too late.

  "Then we will stay," he relented. "For now."

  She gazed up at him with a soft, completely feminine expression. He was potently reminded of their kisses--of all the kisses they'd already shared and of all the kisses they would share. "Do you still wish to meet this sorcerer?" she asked.

  "Aye. Just because we do not go this day, does not mean we will not go another day." Taking her hand in his, he stepped to the counter.

  "I welcome you," the little man said, beckoning them over.

  "I have come for--"

  "I know why you are here," the man said. He pushed his glasses higher on his nose. "However, I am not the one you seek. I cannot help you."

  At that, a sharp sense of dread pulsed through Jorlan. "Someone here can help me. I know this to be true."

  "Yes. There is someone."

  "Where can I find this someone?"

  The little man stepped back, out of arm's length. "You cannot. He will find you--if he wants to."

  Jorlan's teeth gnashed together. Curse it, something would go right for him this day! "For now, I wish only to talk to the man, and I will find him whether he wants to be found or not. I will have your aid, as well. Where is he?"

  "Could be anywhere, really."

  Jorlan gripped the edge of the counter so tightly the bones of his fingers almost snapped. "Where. Is. He?" His voice slashed out, edged with fury.

  The little man blanched. "Whoa, whoa there. You're not the only one who desires a trip home. Mon Graig has many dwellings throughout this world and takes many through the vortex. Sometimes he is gone a few days, sometimes he is gone a few years, but no one, no one knows exactly where he is or when he will return."

  "How long ago did he leave for this last trip?" Katie asked softly. She placed her hand upon Jorlan's arm, and he felt himself relax.

  "Nine weeks or so."

  Which could mean anything, Jorlan thought, closing his eyes. Wait, wait, wait. The words scorched a path through his body. He was so very tired of waiting for the things that he desired.

  Katie's fingers gently squeezed his forearm. She was so close her breath fanned his skin. Just like that, he felt himself relax again. How did she soothe him so easily?

  "For all we know, the man could return tomorrow," she said, her tone as gentle as her touch.

  Jorlan gave a stiff nod. "You are right."

  "Use this time to raise some cash," the little man interjected. "These trips aren't cheap, you know."

  "How much is needed?" Jorlan stared down at the clerk so intently that the man began to fidget.

  "It's, uh, different for everyone. Mon Graig will tell you when he comes for you."

  "I will pay nothing until I find myself standing on the soil of my homeland."

  "Understandable."

  "Good." Jorlan nodded, satisfied he'd done all he could do. "Then tell Mon Graig my name is--"

  "Doesn't matter what your name is. Mon Graig will find you. I'm sure he already knows of your visit."

  Frowning, Jorlan wrapped his arm around Katie's waist and strode out the door.

  AS HER TRUCK RACED along the highway, Katie glanced over at Jorlan. He had barely spoken a word to her since they'd left Vortex. His entire demeanor screamed "no touch" right now. She knew he was disappointed. She knew he needed time to face the reality of a prolonged stay, but as he was fond of telling her, time was their enemy.

  There had to be something she could do to cheer him up.

  They soon crossed into Dallas. Twenty minutes later, she eased her truck into the winding driveway of the Victorian. Jorlan loved physical labor, so what better way to keep his mind busy than to put him to work?

  Katie placed the truck in Park. Her eyes narrowed. An old, rusty and unfamiliar Dodge Dart was parked in front of the house.

  Curiosity tugged the corners of her lips downward. If the car didn't belong to one of her brothers, to whom did it belong?

  "Who is here?" Jorlan asked. Each word portrayed a hint of the dark emotions swirling inside him.

  "I don't know." There was no one inside the car, and she saw no one loitering on the lawn. "I wasn't expecting anyone."

  She found the Dart's owner perched on the porch. Frances, the waitress from the cafe, jumped to her feet. Another woman--Heather, Katie realize
d--stood beside her, looking as bored and contemptuous as ever, her arms wrapped around her middle, as if the humid heat didn't touch her.

  "What's going on?" Katie asked Frances.

  The waitress twined her hands together and gazed nervously down at her fingers. "Did you mean what you said about wanting me to work for you?"

  Katie didn't hesitate with her answer. "Absolutely." She didn't like to acquire help from big businesses, or even temp agencies; she preferred working with people she knew, people who needed the money.

  Frances blinked up and smiled, a smile so bright it illuminated her entire face, eradicating wrinkles and making her glow with youthful exuberance. "Then I accept. I can't thank you enough for this, Katie. Really. I owe you a big fat one."

  "Yeah," Heather said, her tone dripping with disdain. "Thanks a bunch."

  Katie's gaze slid to the girl. Recalling her move on Jorlan, Katie scowled. Heather glared.

  Frances uttered a discreet cough. "Uh, Katie? May I talk with you in private?"

  "I don't need you to--" Heather began, but Frances cut her off with a muttered, "Shut up." Then, "Please, Katie."

  Curiosity rising, Katie nodded. "Yes, of course." But she hated leaving Jorlan and Heather alone together. No matter that Jorlan was free to do what--and who--he wanted, Katie now admitted that she considered him her property. Maybe she should get him a sign that read Owned By Katie--Beware and hang it around his neck. Some women, though, would consider such a sign an aphrodisiac and give chase. So, she'd just have to brand Jorlan another way. A hickey, perhaps?

  As she strode with Frances to the side of the house, dodging rain puddles along the way, Katie imagined Jorlan's body and all the places susceptible to a hickey. She slowly grinned. Her lascivious thoughts ground to a halt, however, the moment she and Frances reached the side of the house.

  "Heather is my daughter," the waitress blurted.

  Shock reverberating through her, Katie stood frozen. "Your daughter? But that's impossible."

  "I'm afraid not," came the sighed reply. "She's really, truly mine."

  Katie massaged the base of her neck. She was trying to digest the information, but had trouble meshing the image of the teasing Frances and the mean-spirited, over-sexed Heather. "I was in the cafe almost every morning for three weeks and so was she, but the two of you ignored each other."