"I think I would enjoy it. Immensely."
"Oh, you'll do more than enjoy, slave. You'll pleasure your queen until she can take no more."
And he did.
AN HOUR LATER, Katie sat at her kitchen counter, a fresh protein shake in front of her. I'm a wildcat, she thought happily. She and Jorlan had made love so many times she'd lost count. She simply could not get enough of the man, and to her surprise, he couldn't seem to get enough of her.
A secret grin curved her lips and she shifted in her seat. The action made her grimace. Her body was sore from the night's excess, sorer than she'd realized. But she didn't regret a single twilight--or morning--experience. No, she rejoiced in the fact that she had plunged headlong into all the pleasures he offered.
She took a drink of the cold liquid and closed her eyes in surrender. Perhaps orgasms caused women to experience things more clearly because suddenly, her senses were more attuned. Her shake had never tasted so delectable. The air had never smelled as sweet. Her clothing had never felt so delicious against her skin.
If only she could spend the entire day abed, but she simply had too much to do today. Since Jorlan's arrival, she'd gotten sorely behind schedule. The Victorian needed to be painted, inside and out, and she'd hoped to have that done by, well, yesterday. Yet she hadn't even begun.
Before they left, though, she wanted to watch Jorlan eat breakfast. Only twenty minutes ago, she'd done something she'd sworn she would never do again: she'd cooked for a man. Surprisingly, she hadn't felt like a forgotten servant, hadn't wanted to use toilet water or drop his toast on the floor. No, she'd worn a genuine smile while she baked, and now the fully cooked, sanitary meal waited atop the stove for his enjoyment.
Jorlan sauntered into the kitchen, naked and unabashed. "Something smells wonderful," he said, his voice husky with slumber. The moment he spotted her, he gave her a look she now recognized as carnal. That wasn't what gave away his arousal, however. What gave him away was the erection straining long and thick between his legs.
If Earth men had been so lusty, women would never leave the bedroom, she thought, or the kitchen counter...or the living-room floor.
He stood behind her, leaned down and nuzzled her neck. "I think 'tis you, katya."
A sigh of tenderness swept through her, and she was reminded of a special treat she had for him. She swiveled her chair around to face him. "I have something for you."
"Hmm, I like the sound of that." He leaned down to nibble on her collarbone.
"Not that." She laughed and swatted him away. "Open your mouth."
Though he hesitated, he did as she'd instructed. Hiding a secret smile, she reached out, lifted a Hershey's bar from the counter, and snapped off the tip. She placed the little square onto his tongue.
"Close," she said.
His lips snapped together. Then his eyes widened as the sweet taste coated his mouth. "Katya," he breathed, his tone heavy with ecstasy and awe. "We must cover your entire body with this magnificent concoction."
Three hours, much chocolate and loving, breakfast and a shower later, they finally drove to the Victorian. Frances and Heather were already there, waiting on the porch. Had she known they planned to start early, she wouldn't have allowed Jorlan to seduce her again. Well, she added after a moment's thought, she wouldn't have allowed him to seduce her so slowly.
"Good afternoon," she said.
Frances gave her an eager smile filled with enough light to rival the sun. "Good afternoon, yourself."
"I hope you haven't been waiting long. Jorlan and I were...busy." Unbidden, her blush told them exactly how busy they'd been and with what they'd been busy doing.
Both of Frances's brows furrowed together, and she blurted, "I thought he was off-limits." Her weathered cheeks colored to a brighter shade of red than Katie's own boasted.
"He is to everyone except me."
He smiled at her oh, so sweetly for such a confession.
Heather stood silently against the porch wall, old wood at her back. Surely the lumber splinters were digging through the pink fabric of her sweater, but she acted as if she was leaning upon soft, fluffy clouds.
Something was different about the girl today. Something softer. There was a glow to her skin that Katie had never noticed before. Most puzzling of all was the fact that Heather never spared Jorlan a glance. In fact, she was pretending he didn't exist.
Wondering just what thoughts were spinning the wheels inside Heather's brain, Katie led the group inside. Behind her, Frances gasped. "Oh, this place is lovely, Katie." She paused. "Or it will be when everything is fixed."
"Katie will make this a spectacular residence," Jorlan said, a note of pride in his tone. He flicked her a gaze. "She is good at everything she does."
The waitress gave him a strange look, as if she'd never heard such praise from a man's lips.
"Heather," Katie began, "your mother mentioned that you have a talent for gardening."
Heather eyed her hopefully. "I guess I do."
"Great. You can start weeding and fertilizing the garden out back. Once that's done, you can plant whatever flowers you want."
Brown eyes stared up at her with fragile optimism--optimism that seemed fresh and new. Had she never experienced the emotion before? "I'll need a hoe and a mini shovel."
"All the necessary tools are in the shed." That settled, Katie turned her attention to Frances. "While Heather works out back, I'd like you to work in the front."
"Really? I get to garden, too?" Practically jumping with excitement, Frances clasped her hands together. "What do you think of morning glory, lilies and lavender all around the porch edges? And maybe a trellis by the north wall?"
"I think that sounds wonderful. In fact, why don't you take my truck and go buy whatever you need at Garden Warehouse? You can put it on my account."
"Really?" Frances asked again.
"Really."
Beaming, Frances said, "I can never thank you enough for this, Katie." With that, she accepted the truck keys and skipped out the door.
"Me, too," Heather said so softly Katie barely heard her. Then the girl left in the opposite direction.
"What shall I do this day?" Jorlan asked.
Katie's first impulse was to say, "Do me. Do me." In his jeans and too-tight T-shirt, Jorlan was more appealing than any man had a right to be. However, too many chores needed her attention first. Her body could wait. Barely. "Why don't you go with Frances," she suggested. "That way, you can help her carry the heavy items."
A pained expression creased his features. "If I have to listen to one of her man jokes, I will not be responsible for my reaction."
Katie chuckled. "Just go, before you miss her."
"I will go," he conceded, "but only because it is my wish to please you."
Had a more perfect man ever been created? "Do not mention that you're from another planet, okay? We'll both be locked away if you do."
At the words "locked away" he brightened.
"We wouldn't be locked away together," she explained, still grinning. "Now get out of here."
Instead of heading to the door, he strode to Katie and planted a fierce kiss on her lips. Only when she was breathless with longing did he walk away.
ALONE IN THE HOUSE, Katie taped the baseboards and upper trim of the main bedroom wall, preparing each section for painting. As she worked, she decided not to use the paint sprayer. She wanted a more personal touch for this house, a lingering print of her presence. Forty-five minutes later, she was popping the top of the taupe paint when Jorlan trudged up the stairs and entered the room on a scented cloud of lavender and lilies.
"What do you think of these?" he asked. His expression was tolerant, but exasperated as he held a posy of flowers in each hand. "Frances would like to know."
He looked so domesticated just then, like a man from her planet. Like her man. Her heart flip-flopped, and she realized with the speed of a bolt of lightning and the intensity of a clasp of thunder that she wanted hi
m to be her man. Permanently.
Oh. My. God.
What had she done? What the hell had she done?
Katie fought a wave of rising panic. I haven't done anything, she assured herself. Everything will be all right. While she cared for Jorlan, desired him, she hadn't fallen in love with him. That meant he couldn't leave her yet, that he had to stay here with her a while longer. Her shoulders instantly relaxed. See, everything will be all right. She ignored the twinge of guilt that drifted beneath her thoughts.
"Jorlan--" she began.
He must have caught the trembling in her voice because he set the bouquets on the floor. His gaze never left her. "What has placed that look of terror in your eyes?"
"I just--I don't..."
His brow arched, and he crossed his arms over his chest, revealing that stubborn streak of his that had so irritated her at the first meeting but now filled her with calm. "What are you trying to say?" He came to her then, glided a fingertip across her cheekbone. His touch was so gentle, so reassuring. "Whatever it is, I will help you."
She took him by the shoulders, her nails digging deep. "Just kiss me. Kiss me now and make me forget."
Without a word, he lowered his lips to hers.
PERCEN GLARED DOWN at the embracing couple, both enraged and joyous. Joyous because Jorlan did not desire Heather. Enraged because Jorlan would not suffer now that Percen had claimed the gentle temptress as his own.
For the moment, he concentrated on his joy, a completely foreign emotion to him. An emotion he attributed to Heather. Since leaving her this dawning, he'd thought of little else. And he'd wondered...could she be the one his mother spoke of? The one woman who could see past his scars and see the man he truly was?
Yestereve, she hadn't seemed all that impressed with his beauty. Nay, she'd craved only his warmth, his presence. Two things he could give her, ugly or gloriously handsome. Percen gazed up at the white ceiling above him. Did he possess the courage to try and win this mortal woman's heart? Did he even want to, now that she was no longer needed to punish Jorlan? The answer came swiftly and unequivocally. Aye. He wanted her more than he wanted his leg untwisted.
He'd spent only the one night with her, and yet she stirred feelings inside him he'd never thought to experience. There was happiness, aye, but she also made him feel content. 'Twas ironic, really, that he felt so deeply for a mortal when he'd often hated his mother for doing the same.
Standing there in the silence of his thoughts, Percen began to plan. He would go to Heather this night. He would take her in his arms, make love to her over and over again. He would show her his true self, and she would...
He did not know what she would do, and at the moment, he realized the answer didn't, couldn't matter. He could never have lasting happiness with Heather as long as Jorlan still lived.
Percen forced his thoughts back to his brother. 'Twas past time he finished the war between them. But how? He didn't want Katie, couldn't bring himself to try and win her affections. And it wouldn't do just to turn Jorlan into stone again. Where was the suffering in that? Mayhap...
Oh, aye, he thought, his eyes narrowing. Mayhap the pain he sought for his brother was not the jealous rage that he himself constantly battled. Mayhap what he should do, must do, would do, was physically hurt the woman who so clearly claimed Jorlan's affections.
Percen's lips twisted into a cruel smile.
JORLAN JERKED AWAY from Katie, abruptly ending their kiss. A sense of magic was enveloping him, a bit stronger than before. He had not cast a spell, yet power hummed all around him just the same.
"What's wrong?" Katie asked, startled. Her lips were still parted with desire and swollen now from the force of his mouth.
His gaze scanned the area around them. There was no one save he and Katie in the chamber. There was no furniture, either, where someone might hide. Only paint tins and brushes were scattered about, and some sort of transparent material covered the floor.
Katie gripped his forearm. "Jorlan? Tell me."
"There is..." His words tapered to a close, for the magic evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. Curse it, what was going on? Was he being watched, or was the stone spell trying to claim him early?
He froze, nearly fell to the floor with the force of his panic. He had not considered the possibility of losing his freedom before his two cycles had passed. Desperation twisted inside his belly. A cold sweat broke out across his brow. He pierced Katie with a glare. "Do you love me?" The words left his mouth in an explosion.
"I--" She shook her head, her eyes filled with sorrow and regret. "No, not yet. I'm sorry."
More panic. More desperation. There had to be a way to gain her affection. "Your brother mentioned a family gathering on Saturday."
She nodded, flowing with the swift change of subject. "That's tomorrow."
"I would like to go." What better way to win her than to prove himself to her family? Aye, 'twas it, the answer he craved. Slowly, his muscles relaxed.
Her eyes widened, and her jaw went slack. "You want to meet my dad?"
"Aye."
"Are you sure you want to meet my dad?" she asked again, yet hope was dancing in the depths of her tawny-colored eyes. "He's bossy and arrogant and even throws tantrums upon occasion."
"I would still like to meet him."
"I'll think about it," she said, but she was smiling brighter than he'd ever seen her.
That smile proved to be his undoing. He pulled her back into his arms and didn't let her go until they were both panting with desire.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
KATIE DIDN'T HAVE TO THINK long about whether or not to take Jorlan to the luncheon. Yes, yes, yes! was the answer. She'd never before introduced a man to her father, but for some reason, she wanted him to meet and love Jorlan.
At the moment, she and her alien were in her truck, speeding along the highway. Jorlan had no idea what he'd gotten himself into, of course, but she'd tried to warn him. His determination to spend the day with her family was startling in its intensity, and made her care for him all the more.
"Will there be 'lick her' at this family gathering?" he asked. He tugged at his seat belt, still uncomfortable with being locked down.
"Yes. To be honest, I don't think my brothers can tolerate each other without it."
Misunderstanding her dry tone, Jorlan reached around her and sunk his fingers into the base of her neck, massaging. "You have nothing to fear, katya. I will not harm your siblings."
She chuckled. "What if they deserve it?"
"Even then."
"Well, they need to pay for what they did to us the other night, and I brought the means to do that." One sandy brow arched and the corner of her lip elevated with smug confidence as she patted the bag at her side. Oh yes, her brothers were going to pay.
Before long, her father's house came into view. It was the house of her childhood, an unusual house, high and sprawling, redbrick, with a tall, cathedral roof. She couldn't say the structure was to her personal taste, but the memories she had built there more than made up for any architectural failure.
Five cars, each a different make and model--depending on the owner--were parked in the winding driveway. She kept her truck close to the entrance, not wanting to be blocked in with no escape. Bracing herself, she turned to Jorlan. "Are you ready for this?"
"Aye."
"I just want to warn you again. My dad is a very...opinionated man."
"I wonder how his daughter became so pliable, then," Jorlan teased.
"Ha, ha. Very funny." Instead of leading him to the porch, she grabbed the plastic bag she'd brought and strode directly to Nick's sedan. He was going to be her first victim.
She raised the hood. Jorlan peered over her shoulder, casting a shadow over the engine. "What are you doing?"
"Getting our revenge." With that, she clasped a container of baby powder and dumped the contents into the ventilation system. She did the same to all of her brothers' vehicles. "When they turn on their air
conditioners, they'll be blasted with the powder."
Jorlan slowly grinned. "Remind me never to make you angry."
They walked hand-in-hand to the porch. The front doors were oak and had elongated silver handles in the shape of the number eight. Music blared from speakers, fast-paced and without a noticeable rhythm. Not bothering to ring the bell--who would have heard her anyway?--she led Jorlan through the house. Every piece of decoration, from the floral print ottoman to the cream-colored lace curtains, was positioned exactly as her mother had liked them.
Everyone was in the backyard playing basketball. Even her dad had donned shorts and a bandana for the occasion. The dark blue kerchief wrapped around his head made him look like a slightly older version of her brothers, instead of an aging heart patient. Sunlight streamed down, hot and dry; unfortunately, no breeze meandered by to cool them off. The yard was flat, mostly light grass that had long since turned dry and weedy. All of the roses and azaleas that had once lined the fence were withered.
"Katie," her dad called when he saw her.
As one, all of her brothers halted in different stages of play and glanced over at her. Nick raced to the patio table and turned down the music as her dad's long strides closed the distance between them. He kissed her cheek. "How've you been, girl?"
Just peachy, she thought. I'm sleeping with an alien and a curse hangs over our heads. "I'm great."
"Good, good." His golden-brown eyes lit on Jorlan. He frowned. "Who's your friend?"
"Dad, this is Jorlan en Sarr. Jorlan, this is Ryan James. My father."
The two shook hands. "I've heard about you," he said, and judging by his tone, the information hadn't been good. "You may call me Detective James," he announced in his no-nonsense voice.
"Dad, you're no longer on the force," she reminded him. But she knew it would do no good--he made everyone, including her upon occasion, call him Detective.
"Doesn't matter." He wiped his sweaty cheek with the back of his wrist. "I earned the title and still deserve the respect that comes with it. Boys, say hi to our guest so we can get back to our game." Just like that, Jorlan was dismissed.