Oh, she knew her aunt meant well by trying to dissuade her from her set course. After all, Auntie Whumples was an Ape Leader herself and was only trying to spare her from the type of censure she had endured for a great part of her life.
But it wouldn’t be the same for Lilac; she knew it wouldn’t. She was a woman of means, her father’s estate having come into her aunt’s keeping until she reached her majority next year. She could spend her days following her own pursuits, not existing as someone else’s property!
Her quest for knowledge and her penchant for reading already had her labeled as something of a bluestocking. Unfortunately, even that dreaded concept—a woman with a brain—was easily overlooked by avid suitors with an eye to her fortune.
Lilac shuddered. It was just not going to happen!
She would be like this cat here. Master of her own fate. Yes, just like the cat.
Impishly, she grinned at him. “We make strange bedfellows, don’t we?”
The cat’s blue eye seemed to wink at her.
Lilac snorted at the silly notion, thinking she was sleepier than she realized. Yawning, she stood up to stretch tired muscles. The glow from the fire backlit her, illuminating her nightgown and silhouetting the curvaceous form beneath.
“I’m really glad you’ve come to stay, kit; I don’t think I shall be half so lonely with you for company. I’ll have to think of an especially good name for you,” she mumbled distractedly as she ambled toward her canopy bed. Throwing back the heavy counterpane, she snuggled beneath the covers.
The Master of His Own Fate watched her with a predatory gleam in his golden eye. Then, at a deliberate pace, he followed her to the bed.
Lilac was just leaning over to turn down the lamp on her bedside table when she felt the mattress dip. “Oh!” She grinned at the cat. “Have you come to sleep with me, then? I’d like that on this damp night.”
She turned down the lamp and burrowed under the covers, smiling contentedly when she felt the reassuring bulk of the animal settle in next to her.
“You and I are going to be great friends,” she whispered in the darkened room. “I can tell.”
The cat nudged his face against her thigh as if in agreement and Lilac drifted off to sleep.…
Like silent lightning, a glow shimmered about the bed and was quickly gone.
Leaning on his side, the naked man gazed down at the sleeping woman beneath him.
Silken lengths of gleaming black hair shifted forward off his powerful shoulders in an unconsciously seductive slide.
If Lilac had been awake and looking at the large mirror on her wall, she would have seen a man in her bed so beautiful as to take her breath away. He had an eye of blue and an eye of gold.
Pensively, the man watched her as she slept.
Her skin, he noted, was a mixture of tones: gold, rose, and cream. Inexplicably, he suddenly ached to feel the supple smoothness with his lips and tongue. Thinking he might do just that, he bent closer to her.
A strand of her long hair brushed against his arm.
He examined it curiously. Like her skin tone, it was a tumble of shades: ash, brown, dark blond. He couldn’t decide what to name it, which fascinated him all the more. To a Familiar, nothing was so interesting as that which could not be named.
He continued his visual exploration.
Her large, expressive eyes, closed now, were the deepest, darkest green. They brought to mind the leaves of the mystical Towering Forest on his home world of Aviara. The sensitive comparison made him long to brush his lips across the thick gold-tipped lashes, to feel them flutter against his mouth.
The sweet curve of her small ear was most enticing…
His heated gaze drifted across her face.
Ah, those lips! Full and soft, a deep rosy pink reminding him of the sweet inner flesh of—
A low growl of desire rumbled from his throat.
Like most male Familiars, he was susceptible to the female.
In the past, he had never given it much thought, accepting who and what he was; he had simply enjoyed the many pleasures which came his way. Still, he seemed particularly susceptible to this female. Why?
He had seen countless beautiful women before; indeed, he had had them for most of his adult life, but this unusual, delicate beauty beneath him tugged at him in a way he had not experienced in his past.
Moreover, he had sensed it the instant they met.
It was as if there was an essence to her which beguiled him like some intoxicating drug. More potent even than the drugs Oberian slavers used to capture his kind.
He was entranced.
He was hungry.
He was almost powerless to break from the pull of her.
The realization caused a shiver to race down his spine. Could this woman make a slave of him? Ensnare him as surely as any captured beast?
No!
She intrigued him more than most, it was true, but that was all. Admittedly, he had been restless for some time, feeling strange and out of sorts. Even before the incident with the Tunnels, he had gone longer than his usual wont without the pleasure of a woman.
Too long.
It would account for his unprecedented reaction to her.
Convinced he was right, that it was only his prolonged abstinence speaking, he shook off the last remaining vestiges of the unwanted premonition. Yet, helpless to do otherwise, he ran his forefinger gently down the length of her exposed arm, testing the texture of her skin.
It was as he expected. Like the finest krilli cloth under his touch. So tender! He imagined his teeth barely grazing against—
Lilac’s eyelids fluttered but she did not awaken. He withdrew his stroking finger for the time being, his mind made up. Unlike his other past encounters with women, he would relish this particular chase—slowly.
Very slowly.
For the ultimate pleasure, a delicacy must be savored.
It would begin now.
The hunt must start by giving her something of himself.
Deep in his senses, he lay back down next to her, drawing her close to him. “Rejar,” he murmured low in her ear as he twined around her. “I am called Rejar.”
He slept with the scent of her. Dreaming of capture.
She felt wonderful!
Lilac opened her eyes and languidly stretched beneath the covers. Simply marvelous! She couldn’t remember when she’d had such a peaceful night’s sleep. For some reason, she had been utterly warm and cozy the entire night, even though it had been terribly cold and damp. It was strange, but she had felt protected, cared for in a way completely alien to her.
During the night, she imagined she was enfolded in a cloak of warm, spicy scent, rather like cinnamon and bayberry and something else totally exotic yet altogether enticing.
An image flashed across her mind.
There was a man.
A dream? When she tried to recall more of the vision, nothing else came to mind, neither who the man was, nor even what he looked like. Now why would she dream about some strange man holding her?
Out of the corner of her eye a flare of movement captured her attention.
Lilac turned over on her side and grinned.
Of course! The cat. She had momentarily forgotten about him.
He must’ve slept beside her all night! No wonder she had felt so cozy. She leaned over to thank the winsome animal for the comfort he had given her throughout the long, raw night.
“Good morning, and how are you this morning?” She scratched behind his left ear.
The big fellow seemed to really like it. Would he want his belly rubbed as well? Perhaps when he got more used to her.
“Its a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Sun was streaming in through the open windows, falling across the two of them lying on the bed.
The cat purred his agreement, wedging his head against her hand to coax her into more petting. Lilac didn’t even realize she was doing his bidding as she continued to stroke his exquisitely soft fur.
“Let’s
see what Emmy brought us this morning.” Taking the tray from the bedside table, Lilac carefully balanced it across her knees.
Every morning for the past ten years, Emmy had been bringing the same thing to her. A pot of tea, a little pitcher of cream, a biscuit, lemon curd, strawberry jam, and a bowl of sliced fruit. But for her new pet’s entertainment she made a great show of examining the contents, holding up each item to his curious gaze.
She suddenly realized he must be very hungry.
Taking the saucer from beneath her teacup, she carefully poured a goodly portion of the cream onto the plate and placed it before him on the mattress.
“That’s for you—but be careful; don’t spill any on the linens. Emmy would have our heads.”
Rejar eyed the plate of liquid warily. He was hungry; it was true. However, he preferred eating in his natural form. Not a possibility at this moment.
Resigned, he began lapping at the rich nourishment, not doing a very neat job of it.
“Oh, my.”
Rejar looked up, cream dripping from his whiskers.
Lilac put a hand to her lips, giggling. “You’re something of a piggy, aren’t you?”
Rejar narrowed his eyes at her.
Unaware of his glowering look, Lilac picked up her cloth napkin. “Would you let me wipe your face?” Very gently, she blotted the cream off, tapping his nose with a linen-covered finger when she was done. “There; you’re quite handsome again.”
The cat swished his tail.
“You may say thank-you.”
Thank-you. Looking slyly up at her, he quickly licked her hand.
“How sweet! You know, I really do need to name you. Let me see…” She tapped her chin. “How about…Rejar?” She pronounced the strange name: ray-jkar.
Lilac blinked. Where on earth had that come from?
The cat purred loudly.
Hmm. He seems to like it. What an odd name to think of…Well, it seems to suit him. “I guess Rejar it is.”
Replacing the tray on the stand, she threw back the covers and walked over to the window overlooking the garden, delighted by what she saw. “Auntie’s lilacs have bloomed! Come look, Rejar!”
As if he understood her, the cat jumped down from the bed, crossed the room, and leapt onto the window seat.
Rejar noted the alternating clusters of purple and white flowers blooming on the large bushes which rimmed the walled-in garden. Lilacs. So, she was named for a flower. Would they smell as sweet as she? He doubted it.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” She sighed.
You are well named, he agreed.
“Let’s spend the entire morning in the garden! You can lie in the sun on your fat belly and I’ll read to you from James Weatherby’s Introduction to a General Stud Book.”
Stud? Adeeann had once referred to him in such a way. Perhaps he would find out what she had meant.
In any case, he would stay close by Lilac until he felt more comfortable with his surroundings, at which point he would begin to explore. Familiars always liked to thoroughly know their territory before venturing forth. Besides, staying in the garden sounded like a good way to—
Fat belly?!
Rejar was incensed. Did the woman not recognize solid muscle when she saw it? he grouched, pacing.
Eager to be outside, Lilac dashed over to her dressing room, completely missing the fact that the hair on the cat’s back was standing straight up in the air as he padded across the floor.
And his ears were down flat.
Lilac raced down the hallway, book in hand, looking forward to spending time in the garden with her new pet. She sprinted to the stairs. The frisky cat playfully scissored back and forth between her legs.
His frolicsome sport caused her to laugh out loud. What a tricky little imp!
She was still laughing when they reached the downstairs hallway, both of them skidding around a corner together.
“Lilac.” Auntie Whumples stood just outside the sitting room door.
Discretely wagging an admonishing finger at her niece for her very unladylike behavior, she continued on in a louder voice, “Look who has come to visit with you—it’s our Lord Creighton.”
Lord Creighton stepped into the foyer from the sitting room.
The smile instantly died on Lilac’s face.
“Good morning, Miss Devere.” Executing a perfect bow, the obnoxious lordling proceeded to examine her with his ever present quizzing glass.
Lilac frowned. Lord Creighton examined everything with his quizzing glass. The insufferable boor!
What was he doing here? She thought she had been quite obvious in denouncing his attentions. Good lord, she had turned down every single invitation the coxcomb had issued to her! What more did it take?
Always in fashion, Lord Creighton was dressed in the blue coat and buff-colored waistcoat that Brummell had decreed was de rigueur for gentlemen’s morning wear. His mousy brown hair was cut fashionably short with the curb in the front tousled just so over his forehead. His cravat was perfectly tied and so stiff, it seemed he was having trouble seeing over the foolish thing. Lilac sighed forlornly.
Who is this interloper? Bristling, Rejar observed the dandy before him. He snorted derisively at the man’s short hair. What kind of eunuch cut off his hair? Where was his masculine pride?
He did not seem like much of a man to him.
Did he not know that the hunt had begun and a Familiar had already marked his “prey”? Lilac had taken him in. Now she was his to capture.
If the foolish man thought to interfere between a Familiar and his…
Well, he did so at his own peril.
Besides, he did not like the way the flug was peering at her through that tiny piece of glass!
“And what have we here?” Lord Creighton made the unfortunate mistake of kneeling down to get a closer look at the cat through his quizzing glass.
Rejar arched his back, emitting a low, threatening growl at the man, his blue and gold eyes flashing. Lord Creighton jumped back, his face going deathly pale.
“Zounds! Miss Devere, is—is it dangerous?”
Lilac looked speculatively at her cat. Hmm…Maybe it can accomplish what I apparently cannot.
She bent toward Lord Creighton in a confidential mien. “Only if provoked, my lord. You won’t provoke him, will you?” She spoke as if frightfully concerned for his welfare.
Lord Creighton’s tiny eyes almost popped to normal size. “What—” he ran a finger around his tight collar, swallowing—“what exactly provokes him, Miss Devere?”
Lilac bit her lip as if she were pondering the dilemma. “We haven’t quite figured that out yet.”
His lordship gulped at Lilac’s words but bravely stood his ground. Lord Creighton considered himself a Man of the World. T’wouldn’t do to appear squeamish in front of the miss.
Rejar chuckled to himself. So, his little minx was trying to be rid of the flug. Too obvious, my Lilac. I will have to teach you about subtlety. He almost purred aloud at the enticing idea.
At that moment, Lilac turned a beseeching gaze to the cat, hoping against all hope that her pet would help her out by being obnoxious to the dandified twit.
You want me to help you with this one? Rejar made a great show of yawning.
Why, oh why, did a cat never do what you wanted him to? Lilac rolled her eyes in disgust. She’d just have to handle the coxcomb on her own. “Lord Creighton, I was just going into the garden—”
“Without your parasol?” Auntie Whumples tittered at her disapprovingly.
“I quite agree.” Lord Creighton shook his head firmly. “We wouldn’t want to spoil this lovely complexion, would we?” Surprising Lilac, Lord Creighton ran a clammy finger down the curve of her cheek.
Rejar cocked his head to one side. Ah, so the flug believes he has the right. I think not. You give up on me too easily, Lilac…
The cat suddenly hissed, surprising everyone.
Whereupon he stood calmly watching as his lordsh
ip leapt three feet in the air.
Upon landing, Lord Creighton glared at the wretched beast from a safe distance of several feet. Trying to recover his composure, Creighton then affected what he considered a strong, masculine pose, making him look as if he had swallowed a bad piece of mutton.
“We should retire to the sitting room, my dear. I fear the strong sun might be too harsh for your frail constitution.”
Frail constitution? Rejar let his expert gaze skim the voluptuous lines of Lilac’s curvaceous form. The man was a half-wit. He would wager this constitution would go all night long with him.
This time he did purr at the very thought.
Lilac was fuming. She was not going to get rid of him! Her shoulders slumped as she followed “his boorishness” into the sitting room.
Giving the appearance of extreme feline boredom, Rejar made a great production out of stretching before he finally got up to follow.
His blue eye twinkled. This should prove most amusing.
Lord Creighton sat sprawled in the middle of the old-fashioned Queen Anne settee.
To Lilac’s irritation, the dandy never failed to sniff disdainfully at the outmoded decor of the sitting room. So what if their furnishings were not “all the crack”? She liked the way the room looked and felt! Bother Lord Creighton and the rest of the ton with their silly expectations!
“More tea, my lord?” Auntie Whumples’s voice came from somewhere in the shadows of the room. While proper behavior decreed she must chaperone, she didn’t want to appear to be too intrusive.
“No, thank you. Lady Whumples. I’m quite finished.” He fastened his small eyes on Lilac. “Miss Devere, I was wondering; will you be attending the Stanhopes’ soiree?”
“When is it?” As she spoke, Lilac noticed the cat jump onto the back of the settee behind Lord Creighton’s head. He settled himself comfortably across the rim, half-leaning against the man’s shoulders.
Lord Creighton froze the instant he realized the wretched beast was actually leaning against him. The position brought the animal frightfully close to his throat. He gulped nervously.
“Lord Creighton?” Lilac prompted.
“Ah…yes. It’s the Friday after next.”
The cat began swishing his tail. Up. Down. Up. Down. Lord Creighton gave her a sickly smile.