Guardian of Honor (29 page)

And this time she was ready for the vision of the crystals,
shining, meeting, joining, shattering. But this time melody was added.
Naturally. It was her last thought before she cuddled closer to her fabulous
lover and they subsided into sleep.

She woke to his hands on her and a raging need. She pulled him
upon her, needing to feel him. She might be alone and untouched by anyone the
rest of the day, the week, but in her memory she could steep herself in the
whole of him...and remember.

The weak gray light of morning insinuated itself into the room
through a small window. Narrowing her eyes, she could finally
see
him,
his intense expression, his heavy-lidded eyes and sensual lips. No, she hadn't
forgotten how he looked, and she suspected she'd measure every Lladranan man by
Bastien Vauxveau.

She grabbed his strong shoulders, ignoring scar ridges, and arched
with precision, sheathing him. He closed his eyes and flung his head back, a
droplet of sweat trickled down his throat. She wanted to taste all of him. She
was too short. He was too strong. The need was swamped by others.

God, how he'd learned to move within her to build her desire to
the limit. She panted, clung to him, focused on the dance of their bodies
together. Every time it was better—too much better. Too spectacular. It
couldn't continue.

But it did. He was relentless, focused on his body and hers, how
they meshed, how he could move to increase their passion increment by
increment. She hadn't ever been
pleasured
like this. Single-mindedly.
Totally. Every sensual spot on her body singing with need. Surely she'd go mad.
Die, maybe. Go mad, then die.

His skin under her hands slicked. His breath came in ragged moans,
yet he gave himself as little quarter in this struggle for the ultimate climax
as he did her. Control was all. Sensation was all.

She knew the shattering neared when the crystals appeared, drawing
together to make a bright star.

Music started again. Her song? Was the other his? They twined
together in a melody, strengthening as the crystals flowed to each other.

They touched.

Fireworks burst inside her,
were
her.

Her cry mingled with Bastien's.

He collapsed on her and she welcomed his weight, a sign of earthly
reality in a fiery universe.

This time the star that was two crystals lingered.

There was a dark streak along one of the star points. It offended
her. Didn't belong amidst all the lovely wonder.

She sent a lightning bolt of her jade magic to the point,
splintering it. In the next instant, she grabbed crystal shards and reassembled
them into new, bright angles.

Bastien jerked and howled, clutched his chest.

Alexa sat up, watching, horrified, but it was too late. She hadn't
thought that she'd hurt him. She'd just seen a flaw and fixed it.

A flaw. The flaw he was born with as a black-and-white? Surely
not. It wasn't that difficult to correct, so someone should have done it a long
time ago.

She shouldn't have repaired it. She had no right to mess with a
person's magic. She just hadn't realized—She leaned over Bastien and stroked
his bare chest, glistening with sweat that highlighted his scars.

"Are you all right?"

He grimaced, then smiled, stretched his arms and legs. "A
pang is all, darlin.' I have them now and then." Picking up her fingers
that played with his chest hair, he kissed her hand. "Don't usually have
such
frissons
with a lady, though. Please accept my deepest
apologies." Even in the dim dawn light, the red of embarrassment touched
his cheeks.

Frissons.
A Lladranan word she didn't know.

His smile froze, he glanced away. "I am a black-and-white,
after all," he mocked himself gently.

Alexa didn't like that he put himself down. The frisson-thing must
be something that manifested in "flawed" people. She bent down and
brushed his lips with hers, softly, softly, tasted his mouth with her tongue
and hummed approval. Then she leaned back to observe him again. This time she
combed his wonderful hair with her fingers. The black strands had a different
texture than the silver, and the contrast was as pleasing to the touch as it
was to the eye. "You are verr-y beau-ti-ful, black-and-white," she murmured.
His chest hair was varicolored too.

His body relaxed under the covers—at least most of it did. She saw
one muscle that was raring to go. Since she didn't want to discuss anything, or
admit her tampering, she let him draw her mouth to his for another kiss.

"And I suspect you're still drunk, darlin'," he whispered
just before their lips met and rubbed and explored.

This was much better than any explanations. She'd deal with any
complications of sleeping with Bastien later. Way later.

She woke again and knew not much time had passed. Bastien still
slept, so she studied him. So sweet and sexy. The sex had been fabulous, and
the intimacy had filled her lonely heart. Most of all, they'd given and
received equally. He'd been honest and hadn't wanted anything but a little
loving. She sighed.

Time to face reality. Holding and kissing and sex and intimacy was
for the one night. No matter what sort of connection she'd felt, it wouldn't
last. The simplicity of being with him would be fleeting. Real life would
intrude.

She should just take the gift of the night and leave. But she
lingered. She liked how he looked, roughly handsome, not as elegant and classy
as his brother Luthan. His cool hair, silver and black and tantalizing to the
fingers. Incredible body, though scarred, strong, muscular, damn good on top
and inside hers.

Wincing at the thought of the scars and how much pain he'd
endured, she flopped onto her back and stared at the beams of the stable. This
guy was a real hero. He'd fought and probably felt the bowel-watering fear and
still fought some more. She didn't know how he did it. Frankly, she didn't want
to learn.

She'd like him in her life, but quashed the thought. She'd always
considered a relationship a partnership and had tried a couple on, but they
hadn't lasted. Her best relationship—business partnership and deep
friendship—had been with Sophie.

At the thought of Sophie, she sat up and put her head on her
knees. It was easier to recall Sophie, and all the fun they'd had together,
here in Lladrana, than if she were back in Colorado where everything would remind
her.

Heaven knows what people thought had happened to her. Though she'd
left the business in as good shape as she could have, that wasn't saying much,
since half the partnership was gone. She shoved those issues aside. Nothing she
could do about them.

Nicer to stare at Bastien and remember the night. They'd been
great together. Maybe, just maybe, it could carry over to the light of day. A
partnership would be good, and perhaps easier in Lladrana. Partis and Thealia
had a great intimate partnership, as did the other Marshalls who were married.
Some Chevaliers were the same.

She found she was needy, more needy than was wise. But she'd been
alone so long, with everything and everyone very strange in this new world.
Having as her closest companion a tiny pink fairy or a shape-shifting muff was
more than a little odd. Was it too much to hope that maybe, just maybe, the
intimacy with this man could last?

He snuffled beside her, drawing her attention. Even sleeping he
looked like Trouble—rough and dangerously attractive. It would be better if she
locked away her odd yearnings. The upset he could cause in her life, just when
she thought she was coping well and had found a place she finally fit in, could
be more than the great sex and whatever "bond" they had between them
was worth.

But she
wanted
him. She set her teeth. This indecision
wasn't like her. This emotional dependency. It may have been all too human to
want a lover by your side, and she could understand her need, but it wasn't
wise.

And there was the sweet Song rippling between them, meaning a bond
had been formed, no matter how small.

What
was
that bond? Could it happen between a lot of
people, or just a few? She knew it didn't have to be sexual, though she could
understand why that would be a strong bond. Reynardus's Shield was his
brother—this man's uncle—she realized. She hadn't asked the Marshalls or
Sinafin or her teachers about the bond or bonds between Sword and Shield or
lovers, so she only had herself to blame for being ignorant.

"You're looking too thoughtful after a night of extraordinary
sex," Bastien said, smiling.

She glanced down to see him studying her.

He stretched, his left arm extending from the blankets and
wrapping around her. He pulled her back down to settle next to him. She had to
admit the rumor was right. He had a great way with women.

Alexa stroked his face. "Shalutationsh, Bastien." His
face went completely still. His eyes widened, narrowed. "You're the new
Exotique Marshall." It was her turn to freeze.

15

“Y
ou are the Exotique the Marshalls Summoned, aren't you."
Bastien jumped from the hay and started dressing. "You must have a Jade
Baton about you somewhere."

"How do you know?"

"I can see you now."

She flinched. "Of course." She kept all intonation from
her voice. Racial prejudice again.

His gaze sharpened. "I didn't mean it that way."

Alexa shrugged and stood shakily. She picked up her ripped dress,
hunted for her underwear.

The man cursed. "Everyone knows of the new Exotique, and my
brother kept me apprised of events."

"The very honorable Luthan," she said. "Bastien who
is Trouble."

His lopsided smile was completely charming.

Finished dressing, he swept her a graceful bow. "That's
me."

"The rebel." She eyed his hair again. "You use the
stories about black-and-whites to your own advantage."

He raised an eyebrow. "Of course."

Alexa blinked. She understood every word he said, every inflection
of his voice, every nuance. Further, her tongue now mastered the language
better. It was still difficult and imperfect, but she could now speak and be
understood. It must be from the link during their lovemaking. No wonder the
Marshalls had wanted her in bed with someone that first night. When minds and
powers connected during sex, some qualities were transferred. She wondered what
Bastien had got.

"I speak better now."

It was the wrong thing to say. He stared down at her. "Merde,
the Marshalls set this up, didn't they. And you were oh-so-willing. I should
have guessed, but my magic is wild, it fluctuates. Sorry, the plan won't
work."

Her spine stiffened. She enunciated each word. "I did not
seduce you. I did not even know you were here."

His eyes narrowed. "Didn't you?" His lip curled.
"You were a very convenient damsel in distress last night."

She recalled the spider web—how natural was it? Shook her head, it
wasn't important in this discussion. She lifted her chin. "I did
not
plan
this."

He raised his eyebrows. "Then the Marshalls did. They used us
both. And they'd continue to use me if I hung around. I won't do that. Nothing
will make me stay. When you Pairbond with someone, he will be your Sword or
Shield. Fight with you and the Marshalls. You come with too many complications,
Lady."

Just what she'd felt about him, but she'd been willing to take a
chance. Now he was rejecting her.

So much for any intimacy, for any pitiful bond
she'd
felt.
All illusion. Story of her life. Anger, hot then cold, swept her. "I would
not dream of keeping you."

"Good." His scan of her was long and penetrating.
"I can't believe I didn't know it was you. Maybe I didn't want to. Maybe
there was a befuddling spell?"

"I don't know such a spell," Alexa said through gritted
teeth.

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter, this stupidity won't go any
further."

Humiliation and anger bubbled through her. She'd never had a
one-night stand. She'd never had someone leave her so fast. True rejection.

He slid down the ladder and led his volaran out of its stall. With
a quick tuneful whistle it was saddled.

Alexa crawled to the edge of the loft and peered down at him.
"Thanks for the fu—" She got the correct, derogatory word from his
mind but just couldn't say it. She'd thought it had been more than sex. He'd
been tender, charming. She had thought they'd shared real intimacy. She licked
her lips and substituted another word. "Thanks for the sex. It helped me
immensely." Her clenched fists were out of sight.

He turned back and looked nearly as angry as she did. The slant of
sunlight coming through the half-opened door lit the silver in his hair,
creating a blazing white aura.

Bastien bowed low with a sweep of his ugly hat. Though she didn't
know all the nuances of bows, she was sure he scoffed.