“It matters not. He will cease to be a problem.” Baltic stood in front of me, a handsome, vital man who had suffered untold centuries of anguish. I touched his cheek, touched the hard planes of his face, tracing my finger along his high cheekbones and around his eyes, those beautiful black eyes that had a slight upward tilt, giving him a faintly Slavic look.
I brushed a strand of hair off his cheek. “How did we both come to be alive again?”
He captured my hand, kissing the tips of my fingers, his eyes never leaving mine. “I don’t know how you came to be resurrected. But I will find out, chérie. I will find out.”
“What do I need to say to swear fealty to you?”
“Whatever is in your heart.”
I laughed. “My heart is confused at this point, so I wouldn’t look to it for any help. But I ought to be able to come up with something. Let’s see . . . I am Tully Sullivan, and I—”
“You are Ysolde de Bouchier. This other name, this mortal name, has no bearing on us,” he insisted.
“I happen to like the name Tully—fine. I am Ysolde de Bouchier, also known as Tully Sullivan, and I hereby pledge my fealty to you, Baltic . . . um . . . is Baltic your first name or last name?”
“It is my only name. I have no other.”
“Oh. All right. That’s very movie star, but that’s fine. I hereby pledge my fealty to you, Baltic, wyvern of the black dragons. No, wait, that can’t be right. Kostya is the wyvern of the black dragons. He was at the sárkány.”
Baltic swore. “His traitorous hide deserves only to be split on the end of my sword.”
“Please tell me you’re not going to fight him for control of the black dragons,” I said, unable to handle the thought of what I knew would be a huge battle between Baltic and everyone in the weyr.
“By rights I should, but I will not. I am no longer a black dragon.”
“You’re not?” I looked him over as if that would tell me anything. “What sept do you belong to? Not the silver dragons?”
He shifted into dragon form, his body covered with glittering white scales.
“You’re a white dragon?”
“Not white—light,” he said as he shifted back, holding out his hand. Light formed there, stretching out to form a white and blue sword. “When I was reborn, I became something new, something not seen before—we are light dragons, you and I, Ysolde. Our dragon form reflects the fact that we encompass all colors, just as light does. We wield arcane magic, which other dragons cannot do. Ours is a new sept, with only the two of us as members.”
I digested that. “That sword belonged to Antonia von Endres, didn’t it?”
“Yes.” He glanced at it. “She gave it to me long ago.”
“Why would she give you something like that?” I asked. “That sword is famous in magedom, and although you’re not a slacker at arcane abilities, you’re not a mage.”
He tossed the blade up, catching it on the tip of one finger. It balanced perfectly. “Antonia gave it to me because she said I gave her great pleasure.”
“What sort of great pleasure?” I asked, a sudden roar of anger whipping through me so great that it drove off my intention to tell him that Dr. Kostich had asked me to take the sword from him. “Great pleasure as in, oh, I don’t know, sex?”
“She was my lover, yes.” He frowned, shaking his hand so that the sword dissolved into nothing.
“You screwed her for a sword?” I asked, my fingernails digging into my palms with the effort to keep from shaking him. I knew my anger was unreasonable, but I was powerless to stop it.
“Why are you so angry?” he asked, looking thoughtful all of a sudden. “Are you jealous?”
“Of course I’m not jealous! What do I have to be jealous of? I mean, it’s not like the man I just told I loved beyond all reason informed me he’s been out bonking anyone who has mage toys, is it? It’s not like he just admitted infidelity, oh no! It’s not like you’re standing right there with your penis all bulgy and poking me”—I gestured at the fly of his pants, which was looking rather strained after our steamy kiss—“and telling me that it’s been visiting other women, not because you are seeking another lover, but so you can have a fancy mage sword! It’s not like that at all, is it, Baltic?”
He looked delighted, the bastard. “You are jealous!” “You are the most obnoxious, reprehensible, despicable man I’ve ever met.”
“I am a dragon, not a man.”
“Gah!” I yelled, and slapped both hands on his chest.
He covered them with his own, doing that lovely rusty chuckle that made my knees go all weak despite the fact that I wanted to knock his block off. “Chérie, I remember many times you threatened to emasculate or decapitate me when you believed I was looking at other females, but I had thought the centuries we spent together had eased your suspicions.”
“Just tell me this,” I said, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “How many times did you betray me?”
Anger followed surprise in his eyes. “What cause have I ever given you to believe I would do such a thing?”
A horrible silence followed, one that was filled with my brain suddenly pointing out that time actually existed before I met Baltic. “Er . . . you knew her before you met me?”
He sighed, unclenching my fingers from his shirt. “Yes.”
“But you never told me she’d given you a mage sword.”
“I had no cause to use it,” he said, shrugging. “I did not have the skills at that time to wield it. It was only after I was reborn that I was able to do so.”
“So you didn’t sleep with her after you met me,” I said, wanting to make absolutely certain of that point.
“I took no females after I met you.” He started to smile, but suddenly looked away.
I pounced on that. “Oh, really?”
He made a vague gesture, a flicker of embarrassment in his eyes. “There was a barmaid in Bordeaux, but I did not rut with her. I tried, but I could not.”
“What a goddamned shame,” I growled, wanting to punch him all over again.
“She was not my mate. I thought I would ease my lust on her, but I could not. I knew then that I must have you and no one else.” He took my clenched fists in his hands, stroking his thumb across the top. “That is when I sent to Constantine to let him know I was claiming you.”
The fury inside me melted away into a dull throb. “It’s very hard to be angry at someone when he’s just told you he can’t have sex with another woman because he wants you instead.”
“You have no need to be angry. I have not given myself to another, as you have.” His voice was etched with acid.
“I can’t help it if I lost my memory and got married. And wait a minute, are you saying that you haven’t had sex in”—I did some quick calculations—“over three hundred years?”
“I have not had a female since I met you, no.”
I blinked, unable to keep from asking, “Have you had a male?”
He looked outraged. “No! I do not lust after males, as Pavel does. I have been mated, and to a dragon, that bond exists for all time.”
“Pavel your guard? He was gay?” I asked.
“That is the mortal term for it, yes. He enjoys both males and females equally.”
I picked up on the present tense of that sentence. “Whoa! He’s still alive?”
“Yes. He has been in London, but I expect him back shortly. Are you going to accept me as your mate, or not?”
“Er . . . yes. I’m sorry, I was just distracted by the thought of . . . never mind.”
He gave me the oddest look. “You were distracted by the thought of Pavel with another male? Do you lust after him?”
“No, of course not! I don’t even know the guy. It’s just that, sometimes . . . well, you know, sometimes guys with other guys . . . it’s just kind of . . . er . . . hot.”
I thought his eyeballs might pop right out of his head.
“Hot? You are aroused by males making love to each other??
??
“No! Not normally! Just once in a very rare while. It’s kind of . . . titillating.”
“I see.” He didn’t look like he saw at all, what with his lips pursed and his arms crossed over his chest.
“You don’t ever think that once in a blue moon, it can be sexy?” I asked.
“No.” He thought for a moment. “Two females together, yes. That is always arousing. Especially if they are oiled. But males? No.”
“Well, see, I don’t get the two girls together thing. It just doesn’t ring my chimes at all. Does Pavel bring his dates here often?”
He stared at me for a minute. I cleared my throat. “Sorry. None of my business. What were we talking about?”
“You were saying the words of fealty.” He paused. “You really are aroused by the thought of two males?”
“Only very rarely! Sheesh! I’m sorry I mentioned it! Let’s move on.”
He nodded, then asked suspiciously, “You do not wish for me to engage in sexual acts with another man—”
“No! God almighty, Baltic! That’s the last time I’m ever going to share a sexual fantasy with you!”
“It’s a fantasy of yours, seeing two men together?” he asked.
I walked over to the wall and banged my head against it a couple of times.
“I do not understand you,” he said, a thread of puzzlement in his voice. “You have changed since you were resurrected. My Ysolde would never have wanted to see—”
“Enough!” I yelled, storming over to him and punching him in the chest. Hard. “Move past it or I’m walking out of here right now!”
His lips thinned, but he said nothing.
“Thank you. Now, I suppose I should start over, shouldn’t I?” I stopped, pursing my lips as I looked at him. “You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”
“No.” Five seconds passed. “Is it the thought of the men engaged in the sexual act itself, or some other facet—”
“Argh!” I yelled, and ran out of the room, out of the hall, and out of the house.
Chapter Ten
Eventually I made the oath, outside under the stars, with the light breeze wafting around us.
“Are you sure you do not wish to mate?” Baltic asked politely as soon as he confirmed the oath, swearing to honor and protect me above all others. “I know how you like to be outside. We could do it out here, if you like.”
I chuckled to myself. “Thank you, but until I have a chance to talk to my husband, sex will be out.”
A sly look came into his eyes as he slowly pulled me over to his body. “There was another time when you refused to let me bed you, and yet we still managed to bring exquisite pleasure to each other.”
“Yes,” I said, unable to keep my mouth from moving toward his. My lips brushed his with a wanton display of need. “I very much enjoyed that dream.”
“It was not a dream, chérie,” he murmured against my mouth, his hips moving with persuasive sweeps against mine. “It happened. It can happen again.”
“Except this time, I’m not a naïve seventeen- year-old who doesn’t know what she’s doing,” I said, moaning softly when his mouth moved over to my neck, his lips burning my flesh, but it was a good burn, a heat that set my entire body alight.
He pulled back for a moment, his lips curling at the edges. “You knew what you were doing by the time we reached France.”
I shared the smile until I felt his hands on the waistband of my jeans. I covered them with mine. “Baltic . . . I’m sorry. I can’t. It’s . . . there’s too much up in the air. I’m not comfortable doing this with you until I talk to—”
He covered my mouth with his, stopping the words. “I won’t do anything you do not desire, chérie. But you have spoken the words of fealty, and you are now my mate. You must bear the mark of my sept.”
I held on to his shoulders as he unzipped my jeans, sliding his hands over to my hips, pushing the material down. “Just where exactly do you intend to put this mark?”
He grinned as he cupped me intimately, his thumb rubbing on my pubic bone. “I thought here.”
“Well, you can bloody well think again!” I said, squirming against him nonetheless.
“Here?” He touched the crease of my thigh.
“That would hurt like hell. No.”
“How about here?” He pulled me to him, his hands on my butt, giving my cheeks a little squeeze.
“I’m thinking that’s fairly disrespectful, don’t you?”
He gave a mock sigh, then whipped off my sweatshirt before I could protest, nuzzling my breasts. “Then it will have to be here.”
“Over my heart?” I thought about that for a moment. It pleased me. “All right. Wait—don’t you have one?”
“I was the only member of the sept until you accepted me. You will have to give me the mark.”
I was about to tell him I hadn’t the slightest clue how to go about doing that when he opened his mouth and breathed fire on me. It hurt like the dickens for about two seconds; then the heat soaked into me, swirling around until it settled in my groin, pooling in places that hadn’t been pooled in for centuries. I looked down to see my bra gone, and Baltic licking my left breast, a strange swirly symbol burned into the flesh. As I watched, the redness of it faded until it was the same color as the mark on my hip—a sort of dark tan.
“Now you have been marked as my mate, although I would appreciate it if you didn’t show people,” he said, kissing my breast. “Your form, although apparently human, pleases me, and I do not wish for others to ogle you.”
I thought seriously of throwing everything to the wind—Gareth, my moral values, decency—and just letting Baltic make love to me until the sun rose high above us. “I wish I could make love to you,” I said, gasping when he took my nipple in his mouth. My fingers dug into his shoulders.
“I will if you desire it,” he murmured, rubbing his cheek against my breast.
“I can’t,” I said, pulling his face up to mine. “I shouldn’t even be kissing you. That’s wrong, too.”
“Nothing is wrong between us. But if you do not wish for me to do that, then I will not,” he said, sucking my bottom lip.
“I think that would be best,” I said, my fingers caressing the long sweeps of muscles in his shoulders. “Until things are worked out.”
“Then I will not pay homage to your magnificent breasts, either,” he mumbled, his mouth kissing a wet, steamy trail down to my chest.
“That would definitely be over the line,” I said, my back arching of its own accord as he swirled his tongue around my nipple, the latter so tight and hard it positively ached with the need for his touch. I groaned again, gripping his shoulders as he tormented first one breast, then the other with long, hot strokes of his tongue.
“Were you to give yourself to me, I would bathe your sublime belly with fire,” he said, pulling me down to the ground.
“But I haven’t, so you won’t,” I said, threading my fingers through the cool silk of his hair.
“Of course not.” Baltic lifted his head from where he was kissing the curve of my hip, and breathed fire on my stomach. It shimmered along my skin until it was absorbed back into his mouth as he laved a path to the other hip.
“The memory of your scent and taste has driven me almost mad with desire,” he murmured into my pelvic bone, his hands gently pushing my underwear down over my hips. “The idea of experiencing it again fills my thoughts.”
“That would be far too wrong to do now,” I said, my eyes almost rolling back into my head when his tongue flicked across secret, intimate parts of me, parts that tingled with awareness and a need that I couldn’t allow.
“I will not taste you, then,” he said just before his mouth possessed me in a way that had me clutching the grass, my hips thrusting up against him.
“Thank you for not doing that,” I gasped, almost coming off the ground when he sank a finger into me.
“You are so hot, chérie. Tell me you burn only for me.?
??
“Only for you,” I repeated, mindless with passion and desire now, wanting him like I’d never wanted anything, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes as I struggled with my conscience.
He moved over me, his clothing gone, the hard lines of his body pressing me down, into the earth. I felt him rub against my inner thigh, a hot brand that my body wept for. He framed my face in his hands, kissing me with a long, slow stroke of his tongue against mine.
“Let me love you, Ysolde. Let this happen. Since I was reborn, I have lived every moment in despair because I lost you. Let me worship you now as I’ve longed to do all those years.”
I held on to him, sobbing now. “It’s wrong, Baltic. I’m married to another man.”
“You don’t even remember marrying him. Perhaps you were forced. Will you remain faithful to a man who would so abuse your trust?”
“I don’t know,” I sobbed, wanting to shift my hips and allow him entrance into my body. I wanted him with a fever that threatened to consume me. “I don’t know.”
He rolled off me, and I curled up into a ball on the grass, crying for my lost memory, crying for the years that Baltic spent alone. Warmth covered me as he curled himself around me, keeping the cool night air from my naked flesh, comforting me despite his own pain.
“Thank you,” I said when I had managed to bring my emotions back under control. I turned to face him and gently pushed the hair from his cheek. “Thank you for protecting my honor, even when I was willing to forgo it.”
“You are my mate. I could never force you to do anything you did not want.”
I stroked my hand on his chest, the sensation of the soft black hairs making my fingertips tingle. “When I give myself to you, Baltic, I want it to be all of me. I don’t want my ties to another man to be there between us, tainting it, tainting the beauty of what we will have.”
He looked down at me, the light of an almost full moon bathing the planes of his face in harsh shadows, but his eyes glowed with an obsidian inner light. Slowly he nodded, and touched my lower lip with his thumb. “You were always thus. You never did anything halfway—it was with your whole heart, or not at all.”