Lords Of The Dark Fall - Fabian (21 page)

How right. He let himself be led because she was still his anchor. And although plans were in motion, he still felt rudderless and all at sea in this strange world.

“Don’t leave too soon,” he said when they’d eaten the meagre meal she’d scraped together. “I will have need of a trustworthy ally until I get the measure of things. Someone who will not take advantage of my innocence.”

She dumped the plates into the sink and threw herself into pumping water for washing up. “If I stay I’ll end up married to Hal.”

“If you do not, he will likely double-cross me.”

“Then we have a problem.”

“I agree. And no matter how much thought I give it, I cannot think of a way out that does not affect one or other of us. You said you didn’t trust him.”

She paused momentarily before reaching for the scrubbing brush. “I don’t believe he’d do anything to hurt me. You’re a different matter completely.” She scrubbed as she talked, stacked the plates and then turned, wiping her hands on her pants. “It’s not as simple as get Hal on your side and he will magically make it all happen for you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He snapped the words back at her, instantly regretting them when he saw the flicker of hurt in her eyes. “Forgive me. I speak from frustration with myself, not anger at you.”

“I know. I can’t see a way out of it, either. Not a sensible one. Must this plan of yours involve a challenge?”

“If I am to have access to the most powerful mages, yes. You said yourself they’re all in the pay of the warlords.”

She nodded. “True. And even then you’ll be lucky to find one who can work the kind of magic you say you need. Have you thought of the alternative?”

He rose from the table, taking the last of the biscuits from the plate because he was still hungry despite Tig’s efforts to feed him. “Alternative?”

“Beat Warrington and stay on. Make a difference. We need someone like you, Fabian. Someone strong enough to unite the factions, to civilise this place. Did you know the warlords still claim right of first night? The right to rape a new bride before her husband has the pleasure of her? With the tithes and protection money, we’re little more than slaves to them.”

“I care nothing for your petty politics. I wish only for enough power to enable me to return home.”

She shot him a reproachful look. “You don’t care for me? To what happens to me after you return home?”

“Of course I do. If you knew how troubled my mind was right now, you’d know how much I cared for you.”

He hadn’t meant to say it, but the words were becoming unavoidable. Her eyes widened at his revelation. She bit her lip as if to stop herself speaking too hastily in return.

“You really care for me?”

“Yes. You know I do.”

“Flattery? To get me to stay?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

He caught sight of himself in the mirror on the dresser. A warrior stared back, hard of face, strong and determined, and yet inside he felt anything but. He closed his eyes. “You asked, I told you. Can you not be content with that?”

He heard her light footfall. Opened his eyes to find her standing in front of him. A small smile tugged at her lips.

“You said you cared for me.”

“And you as a woman wish to read into that more than I meant?” The defence was automatic. She had him pinned to the spot with a look that said he was going nowhere until he’d fully explained himself. A look he knew well, only this time he had nowhere to run.

“Hell yes, I do. Tell me what you meant.”

“We don’t have time for this. It’s not important.” He straightened fully, distancing himself by the mere difference in their height. Looking down at her earnest face he saw the hope behind the bravado, the plea in her beautiful eyes that he continue to be honest with her. A sudden constriction in his chest almost stopped his breath. It hit him like an arrow piercing his heart. Did he love her? Is that what he meant?

“It’s
the
most important thing, Fabian.” She touched her heart. “It’s all right. You don’t have to say it. Not out loud. Just know that what we say and what we feel in here will motivate all our future actions. We can make all the grand plans we like, but this is ultimately what will drive us.”

“What will drive you, perhaps.” He was having trouble breathing. “Women are motivated by emotion, men by logic.”

“This is what it is to be human, Fabian. I’m not trying to back you into a corner. I’m trying to warn you how it will be. We’ll hide our feelings because we don’t want to use them to coerce. But we’ll act on them anyway. The more I care for you, the more I’m likely to do something stupid for you. Do you understand? If we don’t factor our true feelings into the equation, neither of us have a plan that has any hope of working.”

“A woman who thinks like a man. Are you sure you are not Imarna?”

“Who are they?”

He shook his head. “Forget I said that. I hear your words, but I still do not know what you wish me to say. I can’t allow emotion to cloud such important matters.”

“Neither of us can, which is why we need to get as far away from each other as possible.”

“Go then.” Even as he said it he was moving towards her, backing her against the wall, wrapping a hank of her hair around his fist. “Your logic is sound. From now on we will each care only for ourselves.

“I agree,” she said rubbing her head against the hand holding her hair, sliding a flat palm over the bulge in his pants. “From now on, it’s every man for himself.”

“With no quarter given.” He palmed her breast, squeezing too hard for comfort. With a strangled gasp, Tig attacked his belt, yanking it open, almost ripping the buttons from his pants in her effort to get inside. He countered by taking her mouth, reaching around to hoist her up flush with his body. Her legs wrapped around his waist, holding him in place, while she kissed him back with a passion that up till now had only been hinted at.

“No quarter and no mercy,” she said and slid her lips to his neck, sucking until he felt the sting of blood vessels bursting, marking him for all to see.

“I should go upstairs and pack my bags.” She stopped to draw a frantic breath. Lowered her head to taste the dip of flesh at the base of his throat. He tipped back his head, encouraging her to continue the onslaught, both hands gripping her buttocks to keep her in place.

“We should go upstairs, I agree.”

He didn’t give her time to argue. Not that she seemed inclined to. This moment would come and go and if they did not seize it now, it might never come again.

Still holding her, he stumbled up the stairs, to her bedroom, walking straight to the dresser to yank open the drawer. Much as he would like to leave the matter of a child in Fate’s hands, he remembered her assertion that she had no need of one.

“Let me.” Tig knelt before him on the bed, pushing back the folds of his pants to free his straining cock, shoving them down over his hips. Leaning forward, she swept back her hair and placed a lingering kiss on the smooth skin before rolling on the sheath with delicate care. He wanted to ram into her, hear her plead for his mercy, but she was still dressed and taking a frustratingly long time to divest herself of boots, pants and underclothes. With a deep groan he hooked a hand under each of her knees and tipped her back onto the bed, dragging her to the edge.

Had he ever seen a more erotic sight? Straw-coloured hair tangled about her face, spreading across the quilt. Arms flung back in total abandon as she focussed on the pleasure he gave with each hard thrust.

Holding back, waiting for her was agony. Eyes closed, teeth holding her bottom lip, face a mask of concentration, she climbed towards her climax.

He let himself go, knowing that one day he would take her skin to skin. He could not leave without doing that. When his last spasm died down he sank to his knees, drained of all energy. With his cheek resting on her soft thigh, he listened to the race of her pulse beating in time with his.

Just as well he had no breath with which to speak for he would likely have said something he regretted. He felt her fingers, gentle in his hair and breathed in the heady scent of her release. After that small storm, a moment of peace to savour and store away in his memory.

“Undress,” he said, already rising to pull his shirt over his head. “I wish to lie naked with you. To hold you and feel every part of your skin against mine.”

“Me too.”

No longer any need for coyness, she unbuttoned and unlaced and lay down beside him, shifting easily into the enclosing circle of his arms. One leg draped over his thigh, he wondered at the fit of them together. At the way she moulded her form to his as if made for him.

Still he did not speak. Their frantic coupling had been a diversion from the problem in hand, and the question still remained. In all his grand plans, what did he do about Tig? How could he let her go, knowing he might never see her again? How could he keep her with him, knowing who would take her after he’d gone?

His plucky little Tig. Fierce as a lioness, independent as the winter storms that blew in from the high plateau, yet still so vulnerable to the vagaries of powerful men.

“Now I want to stay,” she said drawing an idle line on his chest with her fingernail.

“And now I know you must leave.”

Did he imagine the small nod of her head? She sank deeper into his side, her head tucked under his chin. He’d rarely lingered with a woman after sex, unaware of the comfort to be found in so simple an action. Something else to take back with him if he ever found a woman worthy enough.

Tig’s breathing evened out as she relaxed into sleep. Fatigued as he was after their disturbed night, he stayed awake and kept sentinel, his mind too busy for sleep. Before him lay that heap of tangled threads which he was struggling to loosen and organise into some sort of plan that would benefit them both. What if Tig was right and the mages could not get him home? And Warrington? He had no idea of the man’s real strengths. Confidence in his own ability would only get him so far and victory was not assured. Tig must at the very least remain a neutral bystander until such time he could guarantee her protection. And that he could only do by sitting on the warlord’s throne and staying there.

He had not reckoned that love would be a part of his punishment.

“What time is it?” Tig lifted a sleepy head, eyes wide as she took in the bed and the naked man beneath her. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep.”

“You needed it.” He shifted her, urging her to relax with him for a few more moments. Wishing to explore further these new feelings she evoked in him. He’d shown his paramours indulgence, but never softness. He’d thought himself strong, yet lying here, holding this precious bundle of flesh and bone, he felt a different kind of strength. For her he would lift mountains.

He already knew she would never ask him to.

* * * *

He wasn’t making it easy. Hard man, fantasy lover and now this aching tenderness stealing her will and making her want to stay curled up in his arms forever. Fate was a bitch, for sure. Showing her how things could be, while making other plans for her.

The rhythmic stroking of Fabian’s hand lulled her fogged mind back to sleep. Tig resisted the pull. Why waste this time sleeping? From the shadows at the window, they’d slept away the best part of the afternoon. And so much to be done.

“It will wait,” Fabian said sensing her restless mood. “Indulge me a while longer.”

An offer no sane woman would refuse. “What if Hal comes back? You know he was behind the attack last night?”

“A show of force. To tell me his support will command the loyalty of others. A game, nothing more.”

“Two men died in that game.” Untangling herself from his embrace, she sat up. “Death seems to mean nothing these days.”

“You wished I had let them kill me? Or you instead?”

“They were under instructions not to kill. Just to flush you out.”

“And they knew the risks.”

“I guess.” She tucked her knees under her chin aware that her inability to lie still and allow others to take charge had broken the mood. Fabian needed peace and calm, not her carping on about morality and the fuzziness thereof. The feel of Fabian’s finger tracing the line of her spine made her shiver. The man was totally irresistible. Why even bother to deny that?

She turned, gazing over her shoulder through the curtain of her hair. One arm bent behind his head, the other continuing its lazy exploration, he looked entirely too content for a man about to take on the world.

“It’s nice to see you so relaxed.”

“Good sex will do that to a man.”

She twisted to lie on her front beside him, head propped on her folded arms. “Good was it?”

“Did I not just say?”

“Only teasing. We’ll have to stop doing this, you know. You’re spoiling me for all other men.”

“I intend to. May I ask you something?”

“Of course, ask away.” He smelled like men did after a hard day’s work. Who would have thought sweat could be so sexy? This close she could see each hair on his chin and cheeks, the flecks that lit up his dark eyes, the landscape of pattern and scars criss-crossing his skin, telling the story of his long life. He claimed to be thousands of years old. How could that be possible?

“It would please me greatly to take you to climax, skin to skin, without that dammed sheath to dull the pleasure. Would you grant me that, Tig? I want to feel myself encased in your warmth. I want to get as close to you as a man can. Let me, Tig.”

The imagery alone was almost enough to make her come. Her innards clenched as she imagined him sliding inside, hard and hot, filling her with no barriers in between. He’d make one heck of a salesman.

“I will not get you with child or disease. You need have no fear of that. I would curse myself for all of eternity if the woman I want above all others was the one I had never fully taken. It would be a gift beyond price.”

He was ready to take her, his cock standing proud. She had only to move a little and lower herself onto him.

“You’re not the first man to ask.” She touched his arm to quell the frown rapidly forming on his face. “But you’re the first man I want to say yes to.”