Ibenus (Valducan series) (19 page)

"Who needs a glass?" Sam extended her hand, wiggling her fingers.

"We are cultured people here." Allan tipped the bottle up, taking a draw before offering it over to Sam.

Victoria tapped her chin. "Is that a bacterial culture or fungal?"

"Why not both?" Allan said. "We make no prejudices."

Sam knocked it back, then came up sputtering. "Bubbles," she coughed, then offered it to Victoria. "So ceremony over, where's Taras?"

"He should be up soon."

"Good."

Victoria sipped the cold champagne, enjoying the fizz play across her tongue. She looked over as Allan lowered into the seat beside her. "Aren't you hot in that?"

"A bit." He tapped the breastplate. "But I so rarely get to wear it. Last time was…Matt and Luiza's wedding. Chaya was knighted before she came over. So, two years." A tinge of sadness crept into his voice as his eyes momentarily dulled. "Too long."

She offered him the bottle.

Allan accepted it, lifted it in a mild toast, but didn't drink. "So what have you ladies been up to?"

"You're looking at it," Victoria said, motioning her head toward the video game and drink table. "So how did the knighting go?"

"Good. Very good. Gerhard has come around very well, all things considered. The both of you were instrumental in that. None of us will forget it."

"Great," Sam said. "Payback begins when you stop talking about work. Got it?"

Allan looked over at her, seeming a bit taken aback.

Victoria mouthed,
Night off
, and he opened his hand in surrender.

The door opened and Orlovski strode in. He'd already traded the armor and cape for a bright blue and white jersey emblazoned with a two-headed bird. Though he still wore the dark trousers and riding boots. He gave Victoria and Allan a simple nod, poured himself a funta and plopped down beside Sam. "You haven't made it out of the temple yet?"

"Stuck on the last part. I can't find the bloody key."

"It's easy. Just go back to the idol room."

After a quarter hour of watching Sam play as Orlovski backseat drove, Allan tapped Victoria's shoulder. She turned. He inquisitively raised an eyebrow and motioned his nose toward the door.

The corner of her lip tightened into a smile and she nodded. Bidding the two goodnight, they quietly made their retreat, leaving the two to their games.

"You read my mind," Victoria whispered once the door had closed behind them.

"It's a knight's job to read their student."

"I thought a student's job was to read their master."

"It goes both ways, I suppose. Whatever the case, if tonight's supposed to be a break, last thing I want to be doing is staring at a screen. I get that enough."

She chuckled. "Agreed."

"Any word yet on Paris?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. It'd be on the news if police came, but we sort of left the door in shambles so it's only time before someone finds the bodies."

"They should have found something by now." He glanced out the hall window as they passed. The lights in the trees outside cast scraggly shadows of branches across the green lawn. "You want to go for a walk?"

"Sure." She eyed the polished breastplate. "You want to maybe change out of that first, Lancelot?"

"Probably a good idea." They made their way across the mansion, seeing no one, only hearing Luc's laughter roared from the ceremony chamber as the passed the hall. "I'll just be a bit," Allan said, opening his bedroom door.

"I can help you with that," she offered.

He shook his head. "I have it, thanks." Allan stepped inside, but Victoria moved into the doorway before he could close it.

"Seriously, let me help you. I am your squire after all."

His lips tightened, embarrassed or uncertain. "Are you sure?"

"Beats standing out in the hall." She stepped inside.

The room was modest, a near duplicate of her own but with walls painted the color of dry oatmeal and burgundy curtains shot through with gold. A few trinkets and photographs hung from the walls, primarily of Allan and some of the other Valducans smiling before various monuments. One appeared to be at a wedding, presumably his best friend's. A polished wood sword stand rested atop the dresser beside a leafy potted plant. It was tidy, and clean, everything in its correct place. Even the bed was made, its sheets tight and perfect, like his mother might drop by any minute. Victoria thought of her own room and the pile of dirty laundry growing in the corner.

Allan was removing the cape from the rings, like miniature doorknockers, set in his shoulders.

"Here," she said, taking it from him. She looked around, unsure what to do with it, then draped it over the back of his chair. Ten seconds in and she was already making a mess.

"Really, this isn't necessary," he chuckled, removing his sword belt.

Meeting his eyes, she put her hand on his and smiled. "Isn't this a squire's duty?"

His already flushed cheeks reddened. "You're not that type of squire…well, I suppose you are, but…but students don't do that any more, removing armor and tending horses and—"

"Allan."

"Yes?"

"Hush. Let me do this. It's likely the only time I'll ever offer." She took the belt with Ibenus, noting his obvious discomfort at her holding it, and set it gently on the dresser before the stand. Really, the way he obsessed about that sword was weird. Surely he didn't actually think it was alive. That done, she unwrapped the blue silk sash from his waist and laid it over the cape.

Now confronted with the armor, she pursed her lips, trying to figure out how to begin. She started on his left shoulder buckle.

"There are tabs."

She lifted the end of the leather strap to find a pair of smooth knobs securing the side nearest the buckle, reminiscent to a handbag she used to carry. "That makes it easier." She popped the leather free, then easily undid the ones along his side. It came open like an oyster shell, hinging off the still-buckled right half.

Allan released a relived sigh as she slid it off. It weighed less than she'd expected. Though it probably wasn't the battle-ready armor from days of old, the twin plates mutedly clanged as she carefully set it in the desk chair.

"Thank you," he said, unfastening a button on his straight-collared jacket. "I have it from here."

Victoria pointed at the bed. "Sit down."

"Huh?" Panic tinged his voice.

"Boots."

"No, I've got it."

She gave him a look. "No, I've worn boots like those. Trust me, I'm doing you a favor."

He hesitated, seeming to search for a protest.

"Sit." She pressed her finger against his chest, gently pushing him down onto the edge of the bed.

"What's wrong?" Victoria asked as she slid her hand behind the heel of one boot and pulled.

"Nothing." He extended his leg out as she fought the stiff leather. "It's just a bit unexpected, you offering to help."

The stubborn boot came free. "Not that. I mean in general. You've been so edgy the last few days. Been worried I offended you."

"What?" he laughed. "No, not at all. Just been keyed up with this thing in Paris, that's all."

"Before that." The second boot came free with considerably less effort. She set it beside the other one and stood. "You've gotten all weird whenever I'm close. Like kid gloves."

His smile slackened. "Oh. I was…well, last week, after we sparred and I took your hand, you seemed offended. I didn't want you to think I was trying anything."

Victoria scrunched her nose. "You didn't take my hand. I took yours."

"You?"

"I'm pretty sure I would have noticed if you took mine."

"Oh. I thought I did that."

"Is that all it was? You didn't want to make me uncomfortable?"

He nodded.

She bent and took his hand in hers. "There. Does this make you nervous?"

Allan shook his head. Their faces were close now. A smoky aroma clung to his hair, sweet but with a bitter edge. "No." He rolled his palm over, squeezing her hand in return.

Tingles rolled up the back of her neck and prickled along her scalp. "Good."

He leaned closer, his warm breath playing across her lips. "Good."

They kissed.

A sudden rush of heat welled within her chest, flowing along her spine and surging to where he still held her hand. His fingers moved up to her cheek, sending electric ripples across her skin. Allan's other hand slid free of her grasp and glided up her arm, squeezing her shoulder and pulling her closer.

Pressing her hands against his firm chest, Victoria gently pushed him back. She tugged his lip in hers, holding for a few moments longer until she could force herself to finish the kiss.

Hunger glimmered in Allan's eyes. He reached for her again but she caught his hands and forced them to his sides.

"What?" he asked.

She grinned and touched the topmost silver button on his jacket. "I'm not finished with my squirely duties."

Allan laughed breathily and straightened, allowing her full access to remove the garment, which she did slowly. She savored his mounting impatience as she took her time. After the third button came free, revealing the white shirt beneath he reached out to pull her close again but she swatted the hand back, reminding him of her duties.

The jacket now open, she slid it off him, letting her hands caress down his arms. Victoria kissed his temple and down his jaw, then pulled away before the dizzying tingles made her forget her game. She stood and carefully laid the jacket on the bedside table.

Returning, she knelt between his legs and began on the shirt, kissing his chest as each undone button revealed more of him. Thin, hair-like scars traced along his collarbone. Twin purple scars ran along the side of ribs. She kissed each of the old wounds, then continued her task. The shirt open, she slid it free, folding it over and setting it atop the jacket.

The bed creaked as Victoria put a firm hand on his chest, pressing him onto his back. She looked at him with a devilish grin as she unfastened his belt then leaned in, kissing his shoulders and down the valley between his chest muscles. Blindly, her fingers fumbled with his trouser buttons. No zipper.

With an impatient growl, Allan twisted his leg, pulled her down onto the bed, and rolled, straddling her. "My turn," he said, pinning her hands by her sides

"But I'm the squire," she insisted, playfully struggling against him. "This is my job."

He pinned her arms back and pressed his weight down. His lips brushed against hers, tracing them with kisses. "And I said it goes both ways, remember?"

Victoria rolled her head to the side giving him access as Allan kissed along her neck. She let out a soft moan as his breath and lips caressed her skin with light nips. He moved down to her shoulders and chest, his advance halted by the collar of her cotton shirt. He followed the V-neck down, lips gliding across every bit of flesh the shirt allowed. His hand slid down her arms, along her sides. Lifting himself up, Allan pulled her shirt up and off, allowing her a moment's freedom before he tossed it somewhere behind him and pressed her back down on the bed, his lips seeking the newly exposed skin.

One by one he slid the lavender brassiere straps from her shoulder, kissing where they had been. The tingles rolled through her with each touch, somehow feeling deeper within her than mere sensation. But it wasn't just the ripples of energy that made her close her eyes as his hands and lips maneuvered lower, caressing her breasts while moving down between them. There was an electric, misty quality to it all, something new and only imagined in dreams. It felt as though her being was somehow floating an inch outside her flesh, extended beyond it, allowing her to feel more of him than where they simply touched.

Allan's lips were moving lower now, beneath her breasts. She bit her lip lightly as she felt the tip of his tongue play along the slope below her sternum and down along her stomach. He kissed along the edge of her jeans, the heat of his breath wafting deeper beneath them. Unfastening the button, he kissed lower. The zipper gave, sliding down as he pulled her jeans open. Victoria looked down to see his playful half-grin, then he pulled her jeans and underwear down over her hips. She shifted, allowing him to pull them lower, slowly peeling them down her thighs. Allan kissed her knees as the fabric slid away and his hands caressed her calves.

"Damn," he growled as he reached her sneakers, blocking the pants' decent.

Desperate to return to business, Victoria moved to help him, he pressed her back with a gentle hand.

"No. Let me do this."

She lay back and closed her eyes. His rough hand slid slowly down the length of her body, pausing to play across the hardened nipple still hidden beneath her brazier. Allan made short work of the offending shoes, quickly removing them and setting them aside before he could continue his knightly task. The jeans hit the floor with a muted
plop
.

He gazed up at her, his eyes exploring her body, naked save the unstrapped bra. He nuzzled her knee, taking his time as he worked his way back up her legs, parting her thighs with kisses. Victoria let out a quivering sigh as Allan's breath caressed her sex. He moved in slower, the outside edge of his lips brushing against her as he explored the seam of her leg, still not touching her swollen lips, then kissing down the other side, breathing her in, teasing her.

She gasped as his tongue moved in, playing across her. Mouth open, she closed her eyes and savored the sensations, both physical and the rolling energy passing between them, working its way through every vein. She felt as though they were expanding, filling the room, a merging of energy and spirit. There was something more, something strange, yet beautiful. Victoria's eyes parted and there, the nucleus of that new and unfelt energy, was Ibenus, resting on the dresser. A corona of refracting ceiling lights gleamed off the polished bronze.

The thought of what that feeling was didn't have time to solidify as the waves and shocks of pleasure washed over her drawing in and then exploding out. One hand grasped at the sheets as her other found the back of Allan's head. She clutched him there, desperate to hold him, feel some anchor before she might jolt away from him. A long trembling whimper escaped her lips, and she bit down before the entire house might hear.