Ghost in Her Heart (14 page)

Very fair…if they were talking about a
business deal. “I think you know what I’m looking for,” she said
slowly, searching his expression for a clue to his thoughts.

Determination glowed in his eyes as he rose
and joined her on her side of the table. Dropping down to the
cushions, he considered her lips. “I can promise passion, if that’s
a concern.” He took her lips leisurely, like one familiar with the
terrain and sure of his welcome. A slow burn spread through their
veins, fanned at his command. “My desire will never die.”

She inched back, trying to breathe. “All
desire dies if it is not fed with tenderness. I could have had raw
passion before if that’s all I needed.”

“So could have I. Your sister Earth girls are
easy with their bodies. It was offered. I declined. I told you once
that I desired only one woman—one who wanted only me.” He stroked
her throat with the backs of his fingers and lowered his head. “Be
that woman.” Claiming her mouth, he kissed her until her wits had
flown and her will melted. How could she resist such a tender
invitation? Such a hot demand….

Trying one more time, she pushed him back,
managing to clear a bare three inches of space between them. “I
want love first.”

Closing his eyes like a man in pain, Dagon
flopped down on his back. “Impossible wench.” He waved an imperious
hand in clear dismissal.

Vana couldn’t help but grin, though she was
smart enough not to let him see it. She stood up. “If it helps, I’m
halfway there already,” she said, in charity with her
adversary.

His hand shot out and gripped her ankle. Half
indignant, half desperate, he demanded, “Then why are we having
this conversation?”

“Because you’re not…halfway there, that is.”
She shook him off and left, his heartfelt groan sounding behind
her.

Closing his eyes, Dagon lay back and tried to
clear his sluggish head. Desire made it difficult to think, and
frustration wasn’t helping. Did he love her? Who knew? He
definitely wanted her, if that counted for anything. Apparently it
didn’t, in her book. So how could he convince her that he cared? It
galled him, but he needed a woman’s advice. His mother was out, but
whom else did he know?

A thought made his eyes spark, and he rose up
with sudden purpose. Perhaps Ser’s wife would have the answer.

Ser answered the door looking rumpled and
sleepy eyed. Since it was still early in the evening, Dagon had a
good suspicion why.

He didn’t waste any time. Tight lipped, he
demanded of Ser, “How do you make a woman fall in love with
you?”

Blinking in confusion, Ser stepped back as
Dagon entered his room. “Er, come again?”

“Who is it, Ser?” a husky voice came from the
bedroom. Jen appeared, wearing her wedding robe and looking
decidedly mussed.

Uncomfortably reminded of what he’d like to
be doing, Dagon asked her gruffly, “How did you know Ser loved
you?”

Bewilderment creased her brow as she looked
helplessly at Ser. With a sigh, he closed the door and joined his
wife, wrapping an arm around her as they sat on the couch. “He’s
having women trouble, my love.”

“Oh. I like Vana,” Jen said mildly.

Irked at the way Ser was toying with Jen’s
hair, Dagon took a seat, saying impatiently, “Yes, we all like her.
But how do I make her my wife?”

Though he’d been busy going about his
husbandly duties and therefore out of the information loop, Ser had
a good idea of what he was talking about. “Chase her around. Spend
time with her.”

“I have duties,” Dagon reminded him. “I can’t
spend every hour of the day with her.” He looked at Jen, snuggled
by his best friend’s side. “Why did you marry Ser?”

Delicate pink stained her fair cheeks. “I
loved him, Tsar. He made me feel special.”

“How?”

She looked softly at Ser, who kissed her
hair. “He spent time with me, made me feel good. I knew he would
take care of me.”

“She knows I would protect her,” Dagon
countered, mulling over the rest of Jen’s words.

“It takes more than that,” Jen insisted. “She
needs to feel that you will only do those things for her. She
doesn’t want to be qualified to be your wife.” She frowned at Ser
as if reliving an old discussion. “She wants to be special, as if
you’d chose her over the most beautiful women in the world.”

Dagon raised a brow. “I have.”

She huffed in exasperation. “Tsar….”

He raised a hand. “I understand. I can make
her feel specially chosen. Thank you for your time. I’ll leave you
to your…rest.”

Jen blinked as the door closed behind him.
“Is he always this abrupt?”

Leering, Ser leaned forward and nuzzled her
neck. “I think he’s uncomfortable knowing that I’m getting what he
isn’t.”

“Ser!” her protest ended on a giggle, then a
breathless moan. “Do you think he’ll win her?”

A sexy laugh answered her as he laid her back
against the couch. “He will if he makes her feel like this….”

Chapter 6

“The work day is over,” Dagon said as he
entered Vana’s lab. “Save your programs—I have dinner waiting.”

Vana wasn’t surprised. He’d sent lunch, too,
along with the gift of a silver basin on an ornate wrought metal
base. Enameled flowers decorated it and the silver pitcher that fit
inside. It was lovely, if an odd gift. “Thank you for the
present.”

To her surprise, he winked. “I’ll have it
brought along so you can decide where to put it.” Guiding her with
a light hand at the small of her back, he led her through the
hallways and to a central courtyard she‘d never seen. In the
twilight, flower shaped lamps on poles spouted flame, illuminating
the fragrant hedges and fruit trees. A night bird sang softly in
the trees, accompanying the tinkling fountain in front of a table
for two. Diamonds of flame dotted the velvet black sky, lending
atmosphere to the warm evening. A divan had been set up to one
side, inviting an after-diner nap before a tulip shaped
firebox.

“Do you like it?”

Breathless, Vana smiled at him. “It’s
beautiful! I love it.”

Pleasure lit his smile. “It’s yours. This
will be your private sanctuary from now on.” He stroked her cheek
with the backs of his fingers. “I’m pleased you like it.”

“You’re giving me a garden?” How novel, and
incredibly touching that he’d gone through all the trouble. Maybe
there was a soft spot in him after all. “I don’t know what to say.
Thank you.”

“That was all I hoped for,” he said smoothly,
leading her to the table. He pulled out her chair, then took his
seat as a servant poured drinks and another set a tray of spiced
meat aflame. Vana laughed in delight and gladly accepted a serving
of the still sizzling dish.

“Oh, this is good. I think you’re trying to
make me tipsy,” she commented, trying a sip of the alcoholic
slushy. “Is the fruit salad spiked, too?”

Dagon laughed. “There are more efficient ways
to intoxicate you, if that’s what I wished.” He looked meaningfully
at her lips.

She wagged a finger at him. “That would be
cheating.”

“This is one realm where I write my own
rules,” he countered, offering her a bite of nut-crusted seafood.
When her eyes widened in surprised delight, he said, “It’s made
from the same nut that makes adoc. I thought you’d like it.”

“You thought right. Thank you.”

He regarded her thoughtfully. “Do you
remember your words regarding judging women by a trail of
peers?”

“Yes. Somebody needs to. You can’t let them
just get away with murder.”

“I thought you’d feel that way. That’s why
I’ve appointed a new women’s justice—you.”

“What!”

“Who is better qualified? You’re well
educated, compassionate and levelheaded. It’s a position well
suited to a future Tzara.”

His theory had so many holes in it that she
hardly knew where to start. “I’m not your Tzara!”

“You will be.” Implacable purpose gave his
tone steel. It was clear what future he’d decided on.

Unnerved, she chose not to rock that boat
further. “I haven’t been to law school.”

“I will gladly teach you our laws. It will
be…quality time, don’t you think?” His eyes twinkled.

Oh, that sounded like fun. Hurrah, hurrah. “I
might be the most terrible judge there ever was, for all you know.
I’m not willing to risk it.”

“I’m Tsar. I can always replace you. Besides,
my counsel and I will serve as your advisers. I’m not turning you
loose completely uncensored.”

Effectively hamstrung, she slumped in her
chair. “I was really quite happy with my research.”

Dagon toasted her with his drink. “Welcome to
leadership.”

In spite of her annoyance, he coaxed her onto
the couch to watch the stars, pointing out the unfamiliar
constellations and planets. He told her the name of the night bird
and fetched a fragrant flower for her hair. The servants had long
since left, taking the dinner trays with them.

Dagon traced her cheek with the flower. “You
are the last woman I will ever lie in this garden with.”

It was so poignant, so achingly final, that
her heart ticked in alarm. “What do you mean? Are you sick?”

“I don’t want to lie with another woman, in
my garden or anywhere else,” he whispered against her lips. His
lashes brushed her cheek. “Be mine,
adajah
mene
.” He
kissed her softly. “Be mine.”

Either it was the night bird, or the stars,
or the slumbering fire in his kiss, but she wanted him. Every one
of Kelsa’s words flew out of her head at the feel of his hand
running down her arm, twining with her fingers. Unexpected joy
ignited her desire, made her kiss him back with eager passion.
Needing no more encouragement, he half-covered her with his body
and drove her on, murmuring enticements in her ear.

It was more than she could bear. “Dagon! Oh,
yes….”

“Give yourself to me,” came his whispered
command. His touch moved inside the vee of her loose shirt and
closed about her breast, making her arch with ecstasy. “Offer me
your body.”

“Yes.” She no longer knew what she was
saying, but if it kept him doing what he was doing, she was all for
it.

“Good.” As suddenly as he’d started, he
withdrew, leaving her burning.

She gaped at him. Not again! “What do you
think you’re doing? Finish this!”

He looked at her, breathing hard. “I will
not. Not until we’re wed.” He looked longingly down her body. “I
won’t take your innocence tonight.”

Sputtering with indignation, she said, “Fine!
But come back here and do something! You can’t leave me hanging
like this.” The tension hurt.

When he just stood there, looking unsure, she
realized that he didn’t understand what she meant. She wanted to
slap her forehead when she realized he’d never had a woman to
practice foreplay on. Apparently her lover was an arsonist, not a
fireman.

Time to change that. Vana grabbed his hand
and pulled his reluctant self down to the couch.

“I can’t touch you and not—” he began,
obviously trying to soothe her.

It was embarrassing, but it looked as if she
had to educate him. Virgin she might be, but she’d grown up in the
USA. Between books, magazines and television, it was impossible to
be completely innocent in that culture. She quickly kissed him
quiet. “With your hand,” she said meaningfully, guiding his hand to
the juncture of her legs.

He cocked his head and caressed her
experimentally through the fabric of her harem pants.

Vana moaned. Then she reached for him, and
Tzar Dagon learned a whole new groove. Clothes were shed in heated
rush as he quickly learned just what pleased her. She tried to
return the favor, but he brushed her hands away, too intent on his
own exploration to let her distract him. When he parted her raised
knees and just looked, Vana closed her eyes and trembled, unable to
bear the erotic sight. But since he was looking….she whispered a
suggestion that had him sucking in a breath.

“Do they?” Watching her intently, he gently
touched her core—then brought the damp fingers to his mouth and
tasted.

Moaning at the sight, Vana shut her eyes and
quivered as his lips started at her knee and went on a journey that
culminated in a flashover of pleasure. She twisted and squirmed,
fighting to get away, fighting to ride the fire. And when he moaned
against her center….the man was a born lover.

It was a long, long time before he finally
let her rest, slumped in his arms.

“I thank you for your suggestion,” he purred
in her ear. “I can’t wait to do it again.”

Exhausted though she was, the words made her
squirm with renewed sparks. “Stop,” she pleaded, unable to
contemplate another round. She just couldn’t take that kind of
pleasure again so soon.

“You taste like every man’s fantasy,” he
whispered, nibbling her ear. His hands started to roam again.

Groaning in defeat, she turned to him. “Why
don’t I pleasure you this time?”

He gently moved her hands away. “Tomorrow,
you may touch me all you wish. After we wed. I don’t trust myself
now.”

She tried to form words, but her brain was
foggy. Had she agreed to marry him? Maybe not in so many words, but
she knew he would have taken her actions at face value.

“We need to take you inside. There will be
talk enough as it is—I won’t subject you to more.” He kissed her
and pulled her sluggish self up, practically dressing her himself.
They walked back to her room, where the guards at her door
studiously ignored them, looking away as Dagon pulled her into a
passionate kiss.

“Tomorrow,” he said, half threat, half
promise. Then he left her wobbling on the threshold.

Unable to think straight, she watched him go,
then stumbled into her room. Sprawling on her bed, she stared at
nothing and tried not to shiver as she contemplated the delights
the morning would bring.