Rejar

  Lilac froze.

  He was almost embracing her! In public! Caught within his powerful hands, she stared wordlessly up at him.

  The aggressive hunter within him met her motionless, captive look with candid sensuality.

  At once, a languid veil of warmth enshrouded her, followed by the spicy tang of cinnamon and bayberry and something very exotic. Something provocative.

  She shivered in truth now, but not from the cold.

  Rejar’s sights fastened on her full mouth, parted for him exactly the way he wanted.

  “Do you not like to shiver a bit, souk-souk?” he murmured, very close to her luscious lips. His sexual scent surrounded her.

  “Your Highness,” she squeaked. “Please, don’t—”

  “Make me shiver,” he whispered before his mouth came down on hers.

  His lips were silk and velvet.

  They came over her mouth in a fiery possession. Lilac could feel his breath against her mouth, sweet and hot. And, somehow, acquainted. The Prince tasted of sultry, forbidden dreams.

  There was something about the way his mouth took hers; the way his determined hands laced through her hair to hold her to him in a particular way that bespoke of a mastery and artistry that even her unschooled self could recognize. She whimpered beneath the gifted, virile mouth that wreaked such havoc on her, an act of passion that she suspected was in its simplest form for him.

  The tip of his hot tongue delicately sampled her bottom lip as if savoring the moment before the feast. Then it began to slide suggestively between her parted—

  Fear and desire tumbled up inside her, confusing her. She jerked away from him.

  “You—you cad!” she spat out, wiping the sleeve of her arm across her mouth in a deliberate display of revulsion. “How dare you! Accosting me in public! You’re—you’re vile and indecent; take me home at once!”

  Rejar was not at all surprised by her behavior; he suspected she would react in such a way, although he couldn’t figure out exactly why. After he had gotten her into an actual embrace, he had hoped she would feel differently.

  Some male Familiars had the ability to bring a woman to peak by their kiss alone. He had done so himself countless times in the past to the immense pleasure of the women he had bedded. Only Lilac had pulled away from him before he had the time to introduce her to that particular expertise of his.

  It had been hard for him to stop.

  The taste of her still sizzled along his nerves and it was all he could do not to tell Jackie to find a secluded area in the trees and lose himself for a while. Solely by Lilac’s present reaction, he supposed it would wiser to wait.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and gazed down at her speculatively. “It is a big reaction you show for such a small act. I wonder why that is?”

  Lilac’s cheeks reddened. “What—what do you mean?” she sputtered defensively.

  He looked at her coolly. “I think you know what I mean.”

  Lilac swallowed. Scared and embarrassed, she yelled to the driver, “Coachman, I insist you turn this vehicle around and take me home!”

  The Prince immediately countered her order. “Jackie, you will continue riding around this park until I say otherwise; is that clear?”

  “Clear as me pockets, yer Princeship.”

  Lilac clenched the jonquil material of her dress, hopelessly wrinkling it. “What do you hope to gain from this, your Highness?”

  Rejar rested his head back against the seat. “Everything,” he said mysteriously, closing his eyes.

  While Lilac sat staring stonily at the scenery they passed, Rejar did some serious thinking. It had been a mistake to kiss her, he acknowledged. The timing had been wrong.

  He couldn’t recall one instance in his life when that had ever happened to him. Was he losing his skill?

  Ridiculous! A Familiar’s skills were inherent; they could not be lost. So, why, in Familiar terms, was he snarling up everything with her?

  Every time he tried to take one step forward, it seemed he had to take two steps back.

  He yawned.

  He was very tired; he hadn’t been able to sleep for two days. After Lorgin and Adeeann had left, he had tried to rest in the hotel room but was unable to. Finally he had given up, going in search of Jackie.

  Now that Lilac was next to him, he felt more at ease.

  He yawned again.

  She had the most calming affect on his restlessness. It was really very strange.

  Lilac felt a nose poke into her neck.

  “What are you—” She stopped. It seemed the Prince was fast asleep. Good. She wasn’t the least insulted. Now she could tell the driver to bring her home and finally rid herself of this boor.

  “You there—driver!”

  “Me name’s Jackie, Jackie Mulligan, yer mistress.”

  Thank god no one could hear this excuse for a servant call her by such an appalling name. “Yes, well, Jackie, your master has gone and fallen asleep. It appears thinking has overtaxed his brain. You can take me home now.”

  “Sorry, yer mistress. I’d not be doin’ that now.”

  “What do you mean you won’t? I just gave you a direct order! I insist—”

  “Insist all y’like, girlie, but I takes me orders from ’is Princeship and ’is Princeship tells Jackie to ride ’round this ’ere park lessen ’e says otherwise and tha’s what I aim t’ do.” That said, he stuck his pipe in his mouth, indicating that as far as Jackie Mulligan was concerned, the discussion was over.

  “Well, I have never, in all my life—”

  “Tha’ was clear to king and shepherd when ’e kissed you, yer mistress.” Jackie Mulligan was one to call it like it was. No bloomin’ clankers on him.

  Lilac’s entire face went crimson at his crude reference. She knew when she was up against a stone wall; she crossed her arms close to her chest and stared moodily out at the passing trees. In a silent huff, she simmered.

  So, they circled the park.

  Afternoon turned into early evening. Early evening gave way to nightfall. The moon came up. Stars dotted the sky. Round and round they went.

  Still the Prince slept.

  Cozy as a kitten, he wrapped his arms around her waist, contentedly holding her close while his sultry face snuggled into her throat.

  She wouldn’t have been surprised if the beast purred.

  Agatha Whumples sat in her favorite chair in the parlor, trying to read a book on one of her favorite subjects: the mysterious effluvia. It was a secret hobby of hers; Agatha Whumples had a passion for the unknown.

  However, tonight she could not concentrate on the fascinating text of Dr. Lopidori. She looked one more time at the ormolu clock on the mantelpiece. It was past ten in the evening! She was more than worried. The Prince should have brought Lilac home hours ago. This was a potentially scandalous situation. Where were they?

  Just as that last worried thought passed through her mind, she heard the front door bang open and slam shut, followed by the angry tap of ladies’ half boots marching in a huff towards the foyer stairs. A second bang of the door quickly followed with the decisive, swift step of a man’s Hessian boots.

  “Lilac, wait!”

  That was the Prince’s voice. And highly agitated, too. Agatha rose from her chair to see what was afoot.

  “I do not want to speak to you; I do not want to hear you; and I do not want to see you ever again!”

  Agatha’s cap-covered head peeked around the doorway. Lilac was balanced halfway up the stairs, glaring angrily down at the Prince. The Prince placed one booted foot on the steps.

  Lilac glowered at him. “Don’t you dare.”

  Agatha noted that the Prince stopped but at the same time left his foot exactly where it was. A good, strong character; she approved of that in a man.

  Rejar studied Lilac reflectively. He was somewhat embarrassed; Familiars did not tend to fall into a dead sleep in the presence of females they wished to consort with. It was not considered a romant
ic plus. He knew he must make every attempt to appease her. “Lilac, I do apologize for this. I have never before—”

  There was no sense in trying to explain that part.

  He gazed up at her beseechingly. “I did not know Jackie would listen to me so…exactingly.”

  His change of subject did not escape her. Just how many times would he find himself in similar intimate situations with women? Zillions, by the look of him. She was incensed! “Do you have any idea how many times we circled that wretched park?” She stamped her foot to emphasize his faux pas.

  Rejar took a deep breath. “I can imagine.”

  “It was awful! That—that man you call a servant, he—he ignored me!”

  “I am sorr—”

  “Just refused to listen to me!” Lilac was venting spleen now—six hours of it.

  “I know how—”

  “And you”—she pointed the finger of outrage at him—“you, cozy as a kitten, not caring one fig how I felt about it!”

  Cozy as a kitten? Rejar smiled to himself. Well, he was at that. “Please.” he held out his hand to her, giving her his most winning expression. “Forgive me?”

  To her dismay, Lilac discovered she was not immune to his beguiling entreaty. Which made her all the angrier. The scapegrace. Well, he could have his own medicine back! She smiled sweetly at him.

  Rejar smiled back, his other foot coming onto the second step.

  Before he could take another step, she dropped the fake smile. “I don’t think I shall.” She showed him her back and flounced up the stairs.

  Rejar stood there, dazed at the sudden about-face. Stunned, he watched her strut up the stairs, dismissing him completely.

  Women never did that to him.

  Who did she think she was dealing with? He was a son of Krue! How dare she treat him in such a cavalier fashion! If she thought—

  “Your Highness, might I have a word with you?”

  Irritated, Rejar spun around to gaze down at Lady Whumples. The elderly matron stood firmly planted in the hallway below, reminding him of several grumpy Guild members he had faced in the past. A stern expression crossed her weathered features and although she had phrased it as a question, its tenor was command. What now?

  When the old woman saw she had gained his full attention, she pivoted about, marching directly into the parlor.

  He had no choice but to follow her; as his elder she was deserving of his respect. She stopped in front of the fireplace and faced him.

  “Close those doors behind you, young man.”

  Rejar did as she bid, sliding the doors shut with a snap of his wrist.

  “Now you will tell me what you have been doing with my niece till this ungodly hour!”

  Rejar watched her before he spoke, not entirely sure what she meant by her inquiry. “Doing? I told you my intentions earlier, Lady Whumples; I took Lilac for a ride in your Hyde Park.”

  “Come, come, my boy, no one rides in the park at this hour. What were you about?” The old woman suddenly picked up a folded fan from the side table, wielding it like a small weapon.

  Speechless, Rejar could only stand there and watch as she rapped him smartly on the shoulder.

  “Tell me, I say!”

  Rejar gaped at her.

  He had no idea what she was seeking. Had he done something to offend their customs? “It was as I say—I took her to the park.”

  “Then why are you returned so late? Was there a problem with the coach? Why was my niece so upset?”

  A dull flush of bronze highlighted his cheekbones. “I fell asleep,” he admitted, reluctantly. If his brother ever found out about this, there would be no end to the teasing.

  It was Lady Agatha’s turn to gape. “You—you fell asleep?”

  A muscle ticked along his strong jaw. “Yes,” he gritted out.

  Agatha hid her grin behind the fan.

  “It was…an unfortunate occurrence which I am at a loss to explain.”

  “Perhaps my niece bores you, your Highness?” she shrewdly prodded.

  Rejar emphatically shook his head. “On the contrary, she captivates me.”

  Excellent, Agatha thought. All she had to do now was find a way to keep it going. “You realize Lilac is very put out with you.”

  “I believe so.” Rejar exhaled, purposely putting a forlorn expression on his face. He did not know why, but he sensed the old woman might be willing to aid him in the hunt.

  “Show some spirit, boy!” She whacked him with the fan again. “Are you prepared to give up?”

  Rejar looked down at her, his white teeth glinting in a steady smile.

  “I didn’t think so. You have your work cut out for you; presently, she won’t be very accommodating toward you.”

  “I can overcome such feelings.” His bold statement held all of the cockiness years of successful dealings with women had brought to him.

  In the past, Lilac had proven most resistant to any unfortunate young blood who came to call. The Prince’s positive attitude gave Agatha cause to examine him more closely through her pince-nez. Demme, but the buck was an out and outer.

  “I do believe you can, your Highness.” She met his eyes. “My niece has often expressed a desire to view Week’s Mechanical Museum in Haymarket. I think tomorrow would be a good day for such an outing for the two of us. If you should happen to be there the same time—say, two o’clock—well, t’would be fate, wouldn’t it?”

  Rejar grinned; she was going to help him. “It would indeed, madam.”

  Lady Agatha grinned back.

  Neither suspected that when it came to Lilac Devere they each had very different things in mind.

  He returned to her room within the hour.

  Lilac was already in her night garment, sitting on the edge of her bed staring out into space.

  She is probably thinking of new ways to torment me, he acknowledged ruefully.

  He jumped onto the bed beside her.

  “Rejar! Have you come to comfort me? What a good cat you are!” Lilac petted his head, scratching behind his left ear.

  Purring, Rejar stretched towards her, rubbing his face along her jawline in a sweet feline caress.

  Won over, she kissed the top of his head. “I won’t think about him anymore.” She spoke to the cat as if he knew exactly what was on her mind.

  Which he did.

  “Come to bed now.” Lilac scooted under the covers.

  Rejar padded over to her, lying against her exactly the way she liked. Lilac snuggled her face into the soft fur and instantly fell asleep.

  If sometime during the night she had a crazy dream that it wasn’t fur she rested against but the naked skin of a male chest, she was able to dismiss the nonsense from her mind in the clear light of day.

  However, the exotic cinnamon-bayberry scent, which seemed to be all over her person, truly puzzled her.

  Chapter Seven

  The skin on the back of her neck prickled.

  No, it must be her imagination. They had just walked into Week’s Mechanical Museum, an outing Lilac had been looking forward to for some time.

  It was quite crowded that day. Several of the ton had apparently had the same idea as her aunt. There was one exhibit in particular which—

  There it was again…

  That odd feeling on the back of her neck.

  Lilac looked over her right shoulder. Her green eyes momentarily widened, then took on the light of fury. “I don’t believe it!” she exclaimed in an angry undertone.

  “What is it, my dear?” Auntie said distractedly; she was already peering at the first exhibit through her lorgnette.

  “It’s that awful Prince—he’s here! Of all the rotten luck!”

  “Prince Azov is here?” Auntie dropped her lorgnette, whipping around to survey the room. “Why, yes, there he is.” Lilac stood helplessly by, watching as her aunt waved her fan in the Prince’s direction. “Prince Azov, over here!”

  “Why did you do that?” Lilac hissed.


  “Don’t be foolish, my dear; he is a friend of ours.”

  “Since when?” Auntie wasn’t listening to her, she was too busy attracting the Prince’s attention. Blast it!

  “Lady Agatha, Lilac.” Rejar cordially greeted the two women; one looked supremely happy to see him, while the other looked supremely furious. Purposely, he let his eyes gleam with the flash of victory simply to annoy Lilac. A roguish smile spread across his face when she promptly turned her back on him. He so loved to play with her.

  “Why, Prince Azov, what a nice coincidence.” Agatha winked conspiratorially at him. “Do join us as we tour the museum.”

  Dismayed, Lilac spun back around. “Auntie!”

  “Thank you, Lady Agatha.” Rejar watched Lilac from under heavily lashed eyes; it appeared his blue-and-gold regard was unnerving her. “I believe I shall do just that.”

  “Excellent! We’ve just begun.” Agatha pointed out the first exhibit. “Now this, I believe, is a reenactment of the Battle of Alexandria.”

  Rejar knew a museum was a house of artifacts. The concept did not greatly excite him. He meant to briefly glance at the scene, then turn his full attention onto Lilac, but what he saw made him look twice.

  Tiny metal soldiers were moving about a small battlefield!

  This was sorcery!

  He quickly looked around, viewing the room for the possible culprit. No one appeared suspicious. He examined the walls—nothing there except some old metal swords and a few banners. Where was the source? Surely, this was the mark of a powerful wizard! Instinctively, he edged closer to the two women to protect them.

  “Why do they move?” On guard, he spoke in a low voice behind Lady Agatha. “Are they spellbound?”

  Agatha tittered. “How amusing, your Highness. One would almost think so, they look so lifelike.”

  Rejar was captivated by the scene before him; he curiously watched as the tiny warriors marched about the mock battlefield. The universe he came from was based on the Laws of Magic, but the mechanical men completely mystified him. “I do not understand this,” he murmured abstractedly.

  “Quelle surprise.” Lilac dripped sarcasm.