Seduce Me in Flames (23 page)

The idea of it saddened him, made him feel almost desperate to stand in the way of it. But he couldn’t possibly do that. Not for the rest of her life. And why would he want to? The political scene was not his natural habitat. Far from it. But he most certainly could watch her back while she got her feet wet. Then he would find someone trustworthy to assume the duty so he could leave her to her rule and go back to the Special Active team that would be waiting for him. He felt a twinge of doubt about leaving his friends, however. Yes, they were strong and capable and could surely make do without him for a little while, but in the wake of Justice being injured, nearly killed, it was hard for him to think of leaving them unprotected. If something should happen to one of them while he was away, he might never be able to forgive himself.

And then there was that other issue …

“And you don’t have to worry that I’ll … this will be strictly professional. I mean, I will be strictly professional.” He said it as firmly as he could. “It was wrong of me to kiss you. I was on the job, for starters, and also I knew that I could hurt you. I just was off my mark.” Rush cleared his throat. “I have no excuse really.”

“I wasn’t looking for an explanation for that,” she said quietly. “And clearly we both have bigger issues to deal with at the moment.” She smoothed her hands down over the skirt of her dress, looking away from him as she fussed with the way it fell around her feet. “I have huge responsibilities to my country. Of course I can’t spend my energies … elsewhere.”

That made sense, but Rush couldn’t help but think it was a very polite way of telling him she’d rather eat dirt than let him touch her again. Which was what he
wanted, right? Then why did he feel gripped with a furious sense of rejection? It stung to feel her withdraw like that. Perhaps because until that moment she had been the first person who knew all of what he was who didn’t pull back with fear.

She looked up at him with those big eyes of hers. He must have been wearing his feelings on his face because she immediately drew a soft breath and reached to touch him, her hand running up over his pectoral muscle and gripping his shoulder.

“No,” she breathed anxiously. “No, I didn’t mean that the way you think. It isn’t an excuse or a rejection of you.” Her eyes shifted to Suna, who was busily rearranging things on the vanity counter that didn’t need rearranging. “It is simply a truth, Rush. I need to put all of my energy into my reign. If things were different …”

“I would still be who and what I am,” he said bitterly. “And I accepted my limitations long ago.”

To his surprise she moved closer to him, so close he could feel her body warmth through his clothes. Her hand lifted from his shoulder, and gentle, graceful fingers brushed through his hair, drew a curved stroke around his ear. The sensation, the proximity and intimacy were things he was very unused to, and there was a sense of immediate pleasure and satisfaction attached to the easy way she seemed to come toward him all the time. He couldn’t resist the urge to touch her in kind. It was just his fingertips at her throat, and so light he was barely making contact, but it was like closing an electrical circuit. The comfortable intimacy between them became something stronger, something more intense. It was all the things he ought to be avoiding but couldn’t bear the idea of turning it away.

“I think that, given a chance, given freedom from this lifetime of repression your ability has been subjected to,
you might be surprised by the things that could be accomplished,” she said softly.

He might have argued the point with anyone else, but he had to admit that she had a distinctive perspective on such things. And he couldn’t find it in himself just then to tell her that things were what they were and would never likely change. After all, hadn’t he told her that she was capable of this venture she was about to embark on? How could he argue against himself without calling himself a liar?

“I’ll come with you,” he told her quietly then. “But only until you get a grip on things. I’ll keep the vipers off your back for a while.”

She exhaled mightily, and he could see the relief washing through her. He chuckled.

“You’re going to make a terrible politician if you don’t become better at hiding your every emotion.”

“Trust me, I’m better at it when I need to be. But right now I’m among those I trust.”

She reached to enfold his hand in both of hers and pressed her lips firmly against the curve of his knuckles. He normally would have been uncomfortable under the expression of such gratitude, but instead he found himself fascinated with the warm feel of her mouth on his skin. He had the strongest urge to grab her by those silky smooth red curls of hers and yank her up under another kiss, but he knew that path would be disastrous. Hadn’t he just said as much? But she meant her affection so genuinely, so innocently, that he couldn’t bring himself to pull away either. So he forced himself to tamp down the inappropriate impulse. And even though he knew what terrible consequences could come from doing otherwise, it was harder than he might have expected. Maybe it was all that spit and polish she had used to enhance the pretty that she already was, or
maybe not. Regardless, it was ten thousand kinds of unacceptable.

She was putting a great deal of trust in him. A great deal of faith. It made him feel good. He was used to the faith and trust of his teammates—he had earned it and returned it hundreds of times. And he supposed he had earned it from her as well. But he wasn’t used to it coming from someone who knew all about him, knew his mutation for what it was and had seen it in action. Part of him was completely baffled to realize she wasn’t trying to shake him off her boots as quickly as she could, as one would do the moment they realized they had stepped in shit. Instead she was pulling him closer. Insisting on his presence.

It felt odd.

Perhaps even good.

“We better get going,” he said. “I have to stop by my quarters and change.”

“Oh, really? Why?”

He wondered if she realized how utterly disappointed she sounded. He tried not to smile and probably did a lousy job of it. Her transparency was something they would have to work on. “If I’m going to be by your side for the next little while, I’d rather not do it in uniform. I think I’d like to keep your enemies ignorant as to who I am. I think their behavior might shine a little truer in front of a big savage Tarian as opposed to a representative of the IM.”

It was unfortunately very true. Knowing how her people felt about Tarians to begin with would make his reception hostile, and surely coming in at her side would not help his case. She wished it didn’t have to be this way, but she had no illusions that she would walk into the court of Allay, the court of her father, uncle, and brother, and find herself a warm welcome.

Ambrea paused outside the arbitration hall, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. She had been dreading this moment with every fiber of her being, the moment when she would come face-to-face with her uncle once again. She felt she presented a strong face; indeed, it went deeper than that for her. Perhaps it was the relief of knowing she had Rush’s power at her back. His mere presence made her feel that she had an advantage she would not otherwise have. The truth was, ever since he had appeared in her life, she had found a new vantage point in the way she was able to approach all things. Be it the reclamation of her throne or facing down the quick blade of a would-be assassin, she had a power now that she had not had before. She had an armor, a shield. Finally she had gained a position of advantage, and finally she could do something for the people of Allay. Something that ought to have been done a long time ago.

She touched the access panel and the doors glided open. She moved forward and faced the raised dais where the IM judges sat. There were five of them, an odd number purposely chosen so that their decisions would always have a majority rule. Each wore the same dress uniform that Rush had been wearing earlier, only they were more highly decorated, a distinct sign that
they were significantly tenured in the IM, all of very high and trusted rank. These judges often decided the fates of entire countries, of worlds. They were experts in the laws of the IM charters and well versed in the individual laws of the many countries of the Three Worlds. In this case it was their expertise in the succession laws of Allay that would come into play.

Then she saw her uncle. He was seated with a small entourage of assistants and advisors, all of whom began to whisper things to him the moment she entered the room. Her uncle, however, was staring directly at her, his attention cold and unwavering. Knowing him as she did from those brief snippets of harassment he’d subjected her to, she could imagine he was seething underneath that calm. She remembered his threats. And now that she was snatching the total power of Allay out from under him, she could only imagine how magnified his rage toward her must be.

She didn’t realize she had hesitated until she felt Rush’s hand at her back, his fingers moving to curve into the bend of her waist, then squeezing gently. It was meant as a gesture of silent support, and she felt it through her entire body and spirit. He helped to cover her pause by leaning in to whisper to her, as if he were the one holding her back and not her own transparent fears.

“You are the Empress of Allay,” he said softly against her ear.

It was all she needed. The reminder poured strength into her body, steeled her in the face of her tyrannical uncle. Rush was telling her she couldn’t show her fear, and she knew how right that was. Even more, he was telling her she should not be the one in fear. She was the one with all the power. She had to remember that.

She moved quickly to her place across from the judges and opposite her uncle. She remained standing, however. She was the queen of all Allay, and she would not
sit until all others in the room had been seated first. The idea was that her head must always remain above others around her. Of course the height of the dais and the fact that she was not taller than most of the men around her prevented a literal truth, but it was the principle of the thing, she supposed. She stood with her chin raised as Suna took her seat behind her and Rush threw himself into the chair at her side. He flung both feet onto the table, stretching back casually and crossing his feet at his ankles, playing up the mannerless Tarian he wished to portray. Ambrea could see her uncle’s attention shift to her protector and his subsequent whisper to an aide. No doubt that aide’s next duty would be to find out who the Tarian at her side was and what he was doing there.

“This court is called to presence, both parties of the arbitration now being accounted for and in attendance,” the lead judge announced.

Now that everyone was seated, Ambrea could take her seat. However, she felt the extraordinary need to stand, to command the presence of the room and dominance over her uncle. It would prove to be a keen instinct, as her uncle immediately got to his feet.

“Arbitors, may I speak? I believe we can clear up this matter very quickly and without a protracted hearing.”

Ambrea felt Rush tense up tightly, his nearness to her hip making it easy to sense his reactions. That and the fact that it was growing decidedly warmer where they were. Rush was expecting the worst from Balkin. Frankly, so was she. Nothing good had ever come out of that man’s mouth as far as Ambrea was concerned. He was up to something. Luckily she didn’t have to wait long to find out what it was.

“You may speak briefly, but then we will continue,” the lead judge said with a dour look, a warning to Balkin to keep his grandstanding to a minimum. The IM judiciary would not tolerate any of his tricks.

“I would like to announce to this court and to my niece that I willingly abdicate any previous claim I had made on the throne of Allay. Allayan law is very clear. The Princess of Allay is the rightful heir to the throne and I would never try to circumvent that right. I made my claim only because I was assured she was dead. Had this been true, I would have been fully in my rights to make the claim I did. I never have wished to cheat my niece of her blood-born rights. I graciously bow to my empress and the queen of all Allay.”

Balkin turned to face her. With a surprising elegance for a man she had always deemed as being hard and rough, he bowed to her. Not just a quick, resentful acknowledgment but a sincere lowering of his head as he dropped to a single knee. He kept his head lowered and did not move. Allayan court manners demanded he not move until the ruling hand dismissed him.

All of Balkin’s aides suddenly made haste to emulate their master. The entire right side of the room lowered themselves into acknowledging bows.

Ambrea moved around Rush, her spine straight, her shoulders level and proud. She stood over her uncle, looking down on him as her mind raced with a lifetime of images. All the times he had threatened her. All the times he had tried to crush her under the heel of his power. Now she was in the position to do the same. Now she held his life and his comfort in the palm of her hand. Now, if she wanted to, she could banish him to the wet rooms. Perhaps that one room in particular where the familiar rivulet of water ran down the wall.