Shields Lady (11 page)

            "This one will very definitely stay in a cage." Sariana stated firmly. "I'm not taking any chances with something that has as many teeth as this thing does." She got to her feet and went quickly across the room to deposit the small lizard inside its gold filigree home. Then she latched the cage door shut. "There we are. Safe and sound. In the morning I'll try to convince Luri that his gift would much rather be free to romp along the riverbank."

            Gryph rose slowly, watching Sariana as she bent over the gold cage. "I don't think it will want to be free in the morning, Sariana. I think the bonding has already started. Lucky won't want to leave you."

            "Nonsense. Any wild creature would rather be free."

"There are exceptions to every rule."

            Sariana grinned as she turned around to confront him. "Not in the eastern provinces, there aren't. We don't bend the rules very much where I come from, let alone make exceptions."

            "You're not at home," Gryph reminded her. He went slowly forward, approaching her as she had approached the scarlet-toe. "Things are different here."

            She didn't move, but some of her amusement faded. She seemed to realize finally that there was more going on in the room than the successful capture of a scarlet lizard. She searched his face, her eyes wide and questioning. "Gryph?"

            "Don't be afraid of the differences between us." He moved a little closer, pleased that she still wasn't trying to dodge his slow, careful advance. In another step or two, he could touch her. He wanted that. Wanted it very badly.

"I'm not afraid of you, Gryph."

            He smiled faintly, pleased by the words. "I think it would take a lot to frighten you. A nervous little coward would not have made the voyage to the western provinces when things went wrong at home."

            Sariana shook her head slightly, her mouth trembling between a smile and uncertainty. "I didn't have much choice."

            "You had a choice. You took the one that held the most promise, but also the one that held the most risk. With a temperament like that, you might be more at home here in Serendipity than you would be in Rendezvous. Have you ever thought of that?"

"No," she said flatly, "I haven't."

            Gryph took a chance. He put out his hand and touched the fold of her robe where it fell just below her shoulder. The soft thrust of her breasts was only a few centimeters from his palm. He sensed her catching her breath and he sought desperately for a way to calm her again.

            "You're a woman who's not afraid to take risks," he whispered, his voice rough and husky with need. His fingers trembled on the fabric of her robe. "Will you take a risk with me?"

            "I don't know what you mean. I'm already taking a tremendous risk just by hiring you." He brushed that aside, impatient with her small attempt to sidestep the issue. "I'm talking about another

kind of risk and I think you know it."

            A frantic protest mingled with anger leaped into her wide eyes. "You ask too much, Shield!" "And I overstep myself, don't I?" he taunted gently. "I go too far, reach too high, dare too much,

demand more than I have any right to expect."

            "I see you understand your situation perfectly," she muttered. Her lashes came down to veil her eyes. "Gryph, please, it's very late. You must leave. Don't embarrass both of us by going any farther with this."

            "I can give you a little time, Sariana. Not much, but a littte. Would that help? I want to do this right." She trembled. He could feel the small shiver that went through her and he knew with absolute certainty

that it was caused by excitement as well as feminine wariness. He could make her want him. He was sure of it. He just had to give her time.

"Time?" she breathed. Her eyes were luminous pools. Emotions moved just beneath the surface of

those pools, sending tremors through her whole body.

            "Would that make it easier for you?"

            "I don't know," she gasped. "I don't know. Please, Gryph, I can't think." "I want you." "You hardly know me." Her eyes were pleading with him now, pleading for understanding and

reassurance. But he saw the passionate curiosity in them, too, and he aimed for that.

            "I know you better than you think." He leaned down to brush her mouth with his own. Relief and triumph swept through him when she didn't instantly pull away.

            Deliberately he kept the kiss gentle and undemanding. He would not make the mistake of overwhelming her as he had the last time he had kissed her. He didn't want her to be frightened of him. His whole body was clamoring for release, but he could control himself tonight. He would give Sariana the time she needed.

            Sariana stood very still beneath his kiss. Then her lips parted slightly. Gryph took the invitation at once, sliding his tongue deeply into her warm mouth. His hand moved down from her shoulder to the curve of her breast. When he felt her nipple hardening beneath the fabric of her robe he thought he would go out of his mind. He held the kiss as long as he dared, held it until he felt the stirring of a new kind of tension in her and then he reluctantly broke the intimate contact.

"Sariana, Sariana," he muttered against her lips. "Tell me that all you need is time. I can wait if I must."

            "I don't understand any of this," she whispered. "What are you doing to me?"

            'There's no point in fighting it. I 'don't think either of us has much choice." He brought his other hand up to cup her face between his palms. Somehow he had to impress upon her the inevitability of their union. It would be simpler and far less difficult for her to accept that union if she came of her own volition to understand there was no real choice. "I'll try not to rush you."

"Gryph…"

            "I'll give you some time, just as I promised. But please, for both our sakes, don't make me wait too long."

            "No man has ever asked me to have an affair with him." Her words trembled in the air between them. "I'm not sure I want one. Not now. Not with someone I hardly know…"

            He dared not tell her that what he was asking involved far more than a short-term arrangement. She would almost certainly panic if he did. But it was possible he could convince her to enter into what she thought would be a brief affair. She was a young woman of passion, although she did not yet fully comprehend that. She was far from the constraints of home and she found herself alone and lonely in a foreign land. The thought of having an affair might be very tempting to her.

            "I told you earlier that you are not the only one who is familiar with loneliness," he reminded her softly. She nodded slowly. "The Avylyns explained that the Shields number very few and that most of you

walk alone for the most part. You live on the fringes of society."

"In a sense you and I are both strangers in this land."

            Her small fingers closed around his wrist. "Is it very difficult for you, Gryph? Being a Shield, I mean?" "No more difficult than your chosen exile is for you."

            A wealth of gentle sympathy was mirrored in her eyes. "I think I understand." "Thank you, Sariana." He brushed her mouth once more and then he made himself release her. Without a word he turned and walked to the door. But just as he was about to leave he looked back

over his shoulder. She was standing where he had left her beside the golden cage, her eyes full of aching, unasked questions.

            "Time," Gryph said distinctly. "I can grant you a little time. The luck of the night to you, Sariana." He stepped outside into the hall and shut the door firmly behind him.

            Halfway down the corridor to his room he remembered the crushed flower in the pocket of his jacket. He removed it and stared at the broken petals for a moment.

            Then Gryph smiled to himself and tossed the flower into a nearby trash receptacle discreetly disguised as a vase.

            The nice thing about dealing with Sariana was knowing that she was not weak and fragile like that flower. She would not get crushed if the wooing got a little rough.

            The lady was a potential Shieldmate and such women were not fluffy, delicate or weak, in spite of their outward appearances. He would give her time because that was the courteous thing to do and he was, after all, a lord of a Prime Family. He could do the gentlemanly thing when it was required. Besides, he wanted to impress Sariana with his proud manners.

            But in the end, whether he used the courteous approach or some more direct means, Sariana would belong to him. The decision had been made.

Chapter 5

The message from Brinton arrived the night of the Avylyns' costume ball.

            It couldn't have come at a more inopportune time as far as Gryph was concerned. He'd had plans for the evening. Plans that revolved around showing Sariana he knew how to conduct himself on a dance floor.

            But instead of gliding around a ballroom with Sariana in his arms, Gryph moved soundlessly through the dank, twisted streets of Serendipity's lower quarters. He was headed toward the rendezvous point and enroute he brooded about his annoyingly bad luck, Brinton might be an excellent source of information in certain subjects, but his timing could be miserable.

            Dancing with Sariana and showing off his best manners hadn't been Gryph's only goal for the evening. He'd also wanted to get a good look at Etion Rakken. He was curious about his competition.

            Instead, here he was wandering through garbage strewn alleys dressed in a new shirt of black linen, his boots polished until they gleamed, his gray jacket and trousers perfectly pressed. There hadn't even been time to change his clothes. The message that had arrived at one of the Avylyns' back doors a short time ago had been carried by a small, grimy, barefooted boy. It had been terse and cryptic.

            Gryph had sensed the urgency behind it at once. Brinton was an old hand at this kind of thing. He wouldn't panic easily. His uncanny nose for underground gossip must have turned up something very interesting.

            Gryph made his way unobtrusively along a back street the town council considered so. unimportant it had decided not to waste money illuminating it with vapor lamps. There wasn't even much moonlight tonight. The roiling clouds of another summer storm were quickly obscuring the night sky.

            If Brinton was at the rendezvous point as he had said he would be, Gryph reflected, there would still be plenty of time to get back to the ball before it concluded with the late night buffet. It had been a long time since he had danced. He sincerely hoped it was like riding a dragonpony in that once you learned how, you never forgot.

            His best hope for not making a complete fool of himself lay in the fact that he suspected Sariana probably wasn't much of a dancer herself. He had a hunch she'd spent a lot more time in the classroom and library than she had in a ballroom.

            That was Sariana's problem, Gryph decided. She hadn't spent much time in fun and games. She'd been too focused on the entwined paths of a successful career and a marriage that was intended to be a business alliance, not a passionate relationship. But Gryph was confident he could fix all that for her.

            All he had to do was get her attention long enough to convince her she was working toward the wrong destiny.

            Getting her attention was not, however, proving as easy as he had thought after that midnight encounter in the conservatory. Gryph had seen very little of Sariana for the past three days. She seemed to be always either buried in paperwork, in conference with Lord and Lady Avylyn, or on her way to another "luncheon meeting" with Etion Rakken.

            Every tune he had managed to find Sariana alone, he had been treated to a long string of pointed inquiries about the progress of his assignment. He was beginning to wonder if it might not be wisest to find the damned prisma cutter Just so that Sariana would be forced to shut up on the subject.

            The lady had a way of keeping a man at bay. Gryph smiled in spite of his mood. She was invariably self-possessed, self-assured and self-confident when she was discussing business. When she wasn't

discussing business she managed to keep the conversation focused squarely on the unimportant of the trivial.

            The woman could certainly talk, Gryph reflected. But Gryph was certain he could sense the passion that was locked away in her. The need to be the one who unlocked it was fast becoming an all-consuming need.

            Gryph turned a comer and started down a narrow brick path that didn't warrant the tide of street. He pushed all stray thoughts of Sariana and the ball temporarily aside as a prickle of heightened awareness went down his spine. He was getting close to the meeting point stipulated in Brinton's message. He started counting the yawning black mouths that were alleys leading off of the path. When he reached the third one he stopped. Brinton should be waiting nearby.

            Gryph stood motionless against the wall, letting the darkness swallow him. There was no sound or movement in the shadows around him. The distant rattle of a carriage floated down the street behind him and was soon gone. No intelligent carriage driver would hang around this part of town for long.

            Then he heard the faint groan from the end of the alley and Gryph knew that Brinton's career as an informer had just hit a snag.

            Gryph's fingers played lightly over the prisma lock of his weapon kit. The leather pouch opened. He reached inside and withdrew the small vapor light. He thumbed the mechanism that released a spark into the vapor and instantly a faint beam revealed a portion of the littered alley.

            It was empty except for what appeared to be a pile of old clothes at the far end. Gryph hesitated, all his trained senses protesting his decision to enter what could easily become a trap. The alley only had one exit.