Dragon Lord (26 page)

“There is nothing that needs to be done that can not wait a while--until you feel better.”

“I’m not sure it can wait that long.”

He thought it was an attempt at humor, but he could hear the quaver in her voice of tears. He tried to think of something to say that might stave them off. He was still a nervous wreck from the last bout, but he was no good at diverting her mind and it seemed to help her to pour out her sorrow in tears. He couldn’t begrudge her that, even if it did make him feel like squalling like a babe himself. Uttering a long suffering sigh, he shifted to pull her across his lap and tucked her more comfortably against his chest, trying to ignore the feel of her buttocks against his groin and the soft press of her breasts against his chest.

Her delicate scent wafted to him with each breath she took, warming him and pushing his mind in a direction it had no business going. Gritting his teeth, he firmly ignored the war inside him and stroked her silky hair along the back of her head and her shoulder and back in a manner he hoped was soothing.

It didn’t soothe him. It made him regret, as it always did, that he had brought her to Simon’s notice at all. It made him wish that he had listened to the voice inside his head that had prompted him to take her for himself and leave Simon to his own devises.

It wouldn’t have turned out differently, though. He couldn’t have hidden her from Simon if he’d tried. Sooner or later, with or without his interference, she would have come face to face with Simon and it had taken no more than that for either of them. He’d seen that endless look they had exchanged that first day, seen the way she looked at Simon. He hadn’t
needed
to see the look on Simon’s face to know the attraction was mutual and had rocked Simon’s world.

He shrugged that thought off. There was no point in dwelling on it, no point in regret. It had happened. It had to be dealt with. They all had to deal with it now.

Bit by bit she had relaxed against him until he’d thought she had drifted to sleep again when she spoke.

“How long can you stay?”

He tensed, instantly at war within himself, trying to think what he could say that would be the truth and not something he could
not
tell her, but it was no more fair to her to allow her to think that he could stay as long as he wanted, or as long as she needed him. “I have … business that I must attend. I am going home in a few days, but I can stay until then … if you wish.”

Raina sucked in a harsh breath and held it as fresh pain spiraled through her and made it impossible to push the air from her lungs again and drag in another breath. He was going home--and he always went where ever Simon went.

Simon was going home.

That was why he’d sent her away, because, as she’d always known, there was no place for her in his life.

She couldn’t do anything for several moments except wrestle with the magnitude of the pain in her chest. As much as it had hurt to think that Simon had ordered Audric to take her off and dump her like an unwanted pet, it hurt far, far worse to realize that he had done it because he was leaving. It was stupid, she knew, to derive comfort from Simon’s nearness when she knew she’d never get to see him again no matter that he was just across the channel. But she
had
drawn comfort from it.

Even that solace was to be denied her, though.

He was leaving--going back to his world.

Because she knew ‘home’ wasn’t on this one.

It had taken her a little while to piece it all together, mostly because it had seemed just too fantastic to be true, but there was no getting around the facts. No human being had eyes like theirs. That trait wasn’t from
any
country, or any race on Earth, as hard as she’d tried to convince herself that was all it was, a unique racial trait, or maybe even just a unique family trait.

Beyond that, their native tongue wasn’t spoken anywhere on Earth. She was dirt poor and she always had been. She’d lived and worked among the struggling poor her entire life, and immigrants fell into that category for the most part. She’d met and worked with people from countries all over the world. She knew
they
weren’t speaking an Earth language, had known it from the first moment she’d heard it, she thought, although she’d struggled for a long time to try to fit it into something familiar.

Even their speech patterns when they spoke English were different, very formal--sounded stilted because they didn’t use slang, or understand a lot of it, and they didn’t contract their words and run them together like everyone else on Earth did. They very carefully enunciated each word.

To say nothing of the terms they used so often.

As far as she knew, there wasn’t a culture left on Earth that still believed in or worshipped more than one god--which they obviously did.

As painful as it was to think Simon had just gotten tired of her, it was far more painful to realize he wasn’t going to be on the same world with her anymore. She knew, even if he had meant to stay, that she’d never see him again, but it had comforted her to think of him being close by. Now, she didn’t even have that.

And Audric was leaving, too.

Lifting her head, she stared at him miserably, realizing how much she’d depended upon Audric to comfort her, to befriend her in times of need--realizing she needed him more desperately now than she ever had--and he was leaving.

“Do not look at me like that,” he said hoarsely. “The gods are my witness, I never meant for you to be hurt, Raina.”

She averted her gaze. Dropping her cheek to his hard shoulder, she fought a round with her tears and finally dragged in a long, shuddering breath, trying to sort through her chaotic emotions.

Simon had sent Audric to take care of her. It hadn’t occurred to her before that there was significance in that fact, that there had to be one. Simon knew that Audric wanted her. They’d come to blows over it more than once, and almost come to blows about it more than that. After they’d made the pact between them, he’d allowed Audric around her, but she knew he hadn’t liked it, hadn’t completely trusted her or Audric.

Why, then, had he sent Audric? She thought Audric would’ve come anyway, or at least have wanted to, but he’d said that Simon had sent him to take care of her.

Was it just because he trusted Audric more than any of the others?

Maybe, but she didn’t think so.

And she had seen ‘that’ look in Audric’s eyes, the hunger he’d worked so hard to hide before.

As tumultuous as her thoughts and emotions were, it was hard to ignore the picture that emerged--that there’d been a reason besides Simon’s trust in Audric, besides his sense of obligation or responsibility or maybe honor that had compelled him to be certain that she was taken care of.

That hurt, too, the thought that Simon had passed her on to Audric, because she wasn’t so sunk in misery that she’d failed to notice Audric had arrived with his dick in his hand and a hopeful look in his eyes.

Maybe, she thought, he was just trying to make it up to Audric by giving him a chance to be with her before they left?

That didn’t make it hurt any less, but
she
cared about Audric. She’d felt guilty that she’d led him to believe that she would welcome him and then had turned to Simon.

And Simon was gone, had released her from her promise and handed her off to Audric.

And Audric had his own needs and he was still trying to ignore them and comfort her.

Desire was the furthest thing from her mind, but she realized she needed comforting. She was clinging to Audric because she couldn’t bear to be alone, taking advantage of his feelings for her, and it wasn’t fair to him.

It was never right or fair when one person did all the taking and one all the giving.

Who would it hurt, after all, if they gave each other what they needed? Not Simon as much as it hurt her to accept that. He knew how Audric felt about her and he’d sent him away.

Lifting her head from his shoulder, she looked up at Audric again, studying the drawn lines of his handsome face, the faint frown between his eyes. She was never going to see him again. In a few days, he would be gone and she would have no one to run to when she needed a comforting shoulder to cry on, nobody to talk to who never seemed to judge her. Just like Simon, he would disappear forever from her life, and in his way, he was as dear to her as Simon.

Without actually acknowledging that she’d made her decision, she lifted a hand and settled it on his hard cheek. He turned his head to look at her, a mixture of hope, doubt, and uneasiness in his eyes, as if he thought she would only tease him and then push him away again.

Like she had before.

Shame filled her for her uncharitable thought of before--He hadn’t come with his dick in his hand. He’d offered comfort for nothing, just like before. He couldn’t help that he was hopeful for more.

She hadn’t wanted to hurt him either, hadn’t meant to. She’d just been so wrapped up in Simon, she hadn’t spared him a thought--not enough thought. Guilt hardly counted. She deserved the guilt, but it hadn’t done anything for him, hadn’t helped his feelings in any way for her to punish herself with little prickles of shame and remorse that bothered her only when she could spare a few moments from thinking about Simon.

Maybe he wouldn’t even want what she had to offer, but she wanted to offer it. If nothing else, he deserved the chance to blow her off like she had him.

She drifted closer, planting a kiss at one corner of his mouth, and then brushed her lips lightly across his. He tensed, sucked in a shuddering breath and stilled as if he was afraid to move, uncertain if it was an offer or not.

She might as well go for broke, she thought wryly, unnerved by the idea, uncertain herself of whether she was facing rejection.

Slipping from his lap, she held his gaze as she unfastened her jeans and peeled the jeans and panties from her hips. Confusion flickered in his eyes briefly but disappeared quickly. A glazed look formed on his features as she wiggled out of the jeans. His gaze fastened on the patch of curling red hair on her mound as if he’d been transfixed.

When she’d stepped out of her jeans and panties, she climbed onto his lap again, this time astride his hips. He seemed to recoil for a moment. Disconcerted, Raina hesitated. When he did nothing more than stare at her, she grasped the bottom edge of her shirt and peeled it off over her head and then her sports bra.

He swallowed convulsively, his gaze dropping to her breasts.

He made no attempt to touch her, but she could feel faint tremors running through him, could hear them in his ragged breaths. His chest, hard and mounded with muscle, huge, expanded even more as his breath sawed in and out of his lungs in quick, hard breaths.

The look on his face, the evidence of his need, aroused her when she hadn’t thought anything could.

He swallowed audibly again. “You do not have to do this, Raina,” he said hoarsely. “I do not expect it of you.”

“I know.”

“I will stay and protect you, comfort you if you have need.”

“I know. You always have.”

“Why then?”

She could see he suspected it was only to get back at Simon, but what would be the point of that even if she was that kind of person? If Simon had cared, he wouldn’t have sent her away, and he wouldn’t have sent her with Audric. She couldn’t punish him even if that was her objective, and it wasn’t. “I’ve always run to you for comfort, Audric. Do you think I would have if I hadn’t care about you? Do you think I would’ve found comfort in being with you if you didn’t mean something to me?”

“We are friends,” he said gruffly.

Relief flooded her when he said that. “Yes, we are,” she agreed, “and I don’t want you to go without knowing what it feels like to be with you. If memories are all we’ll get, we should make some happy ones, don’t you think?”

He swallowed with an effort. “I do not want you to hate me, Raina. I do not want you to feel regrets because of me.”

“I won’t regret doing this,” she said firmly. “I will regret it if I don’t.”

He allowed his gaze to drop from her face to her breasts. “If you tell me to stop, I will stop,” he murmured, but almost as if to himself. Lifting his hands slowly, almost like a sleepwalker, he cupped a breast in either hand, sucking in a shuddering breath as he gently explored the weight and fullness of them. After a moment, he released his hold on her breasts and slipped his hands along her ribs until he’d encircled her waist with them and then followed the curve of her hips. His gaze had riveted on her mound, though. He stared at it for long moments before he looked up at her again.

“You are so beautiful, Raina,” he said reverently.

She felt her face redden at the compliment, but her heart quickened at the way he said it, at the look in his eyes. “Thank you,” she murmured, lifting her hands to distract him, and herself from her discomfort and opening the buttons of his shirt with hands that shook.

He skimmed his hands over her thighs while she tugged his shirt from the waist of his breeches and pushed it wide to explore his chest. Dark hair covered it liberally, not beast man thick, but certainly more than Simon.

She promptly pushed that thought from her head. She wasn’t going to compare him to Simon.

He had a beautiful chest, but she’d known that already. She’d managed to catch him dressing regularly when she’d been using his room. She’d never deliberately looked, though. She’d glimpsed, and then tried to look away, and although she had the impression that he was built very pleasingly, she hadn’t studied him as she did now. She hadn’t felt the pleasing texture of his skin. She hadn’t felt the tautness of the bulging muscles of his pecs, the ripple of muscles that cascaded down his belly.

He didn’t just look beautiful. He felt wonderful to touch. He made her feel beautiful as he studied her almost with wonder in his eyes, desire. The tremors of need rippling through his big body spawned echoes in hers.

He met her gaze when she skimmed her hands beneath the shoulders of his shirt to push his shirt and coat off of him. A shoulder harness thwarted her efforts and she looked at the butt of the gun beneath one arm pit with surprise she shouldn’t have felt. He was a bodyguard. She knew that. She shouldn’t have been surprised that he was wearing a weapon.