Heart Duel (49 page)

Lark wept silently when Holm found his core and merged with it. His amazement at the difference he felt touched her. He staggered a couple of steps and she steadied him. Then he moved with his usual grace.

What a man! A beautiful body, a strong heart, an honorable soul. He was truly extraordinary if he'd survived three Passages without centering and grounding himself.

And he couldn't, or wouldn't, tell her he loved her. They'd spent the night together as HeartMates, loving and touching and engaging in passionate sex, yet had not HeartBonded. What a man.

Soon they reached the end of the labyrinth and the rim of the crater. She drew in a breath of sparkling fresh air laden with the scents of growing plants and summoned a robe, soft and silky, flowing over her body to accent the curves. With a snap of her fingers she 'ported her last weapon in this heart duel to her. Her HeartGift.

Thirty-one

Holm turned to her with a dazed smile. “Lady and
Lord, what a difference! I feel like a new man.” His gaze swept the vista. Now they'd left the crater, they could see ragged peaks to the north, the sea to the west, the glow of Druida to the south.

His shoulders shifted. “I am a new man. Holm Apple,” he said with only a slight hesitation. “I know my strengths, and my flaws.” As he raised his head, his silver-gilt hair lifted in the night breeze. “I know who I am without any reference to the Hollys.”

Then his gaze sharpened as he
saw
her. He frowned. “That's seduction cloth.”

Lark smiled. “So it is.”

“You're dressed.”

“Yes.”

“I'm not, except for my amulet.”

“I know.”

He looked at his aroused body. Took her hand and closed her fingers around his shaft, jerked a little and moaned.

Lark stroked up and down, sensing through their bond which touch pleased him the most and brought the greatest response.

“Enough.” He grasped her wrist and this time lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed her hand. “Bélla.”

Bélla. Always Bélla. A good name, a special name, but she wanted more. She wanted love words.

An appreciative gleam entered his eye as he studied her. “Seduction cloth,” he said lowly, in a voice that was seduction itself—if Lark hadn't realized that she wasn't the first woman to wear such a gown for him—maybe not even the tenth. . . .

He nibbled at her fingertips. “Ah, my Bélla. A little jealousy sparks red through our bond. A nice appetizer.” Holm grinned wolfishly, and she thought she might have miscalculated.

Once more he scanned the view. “Let's walk back in. We can concentrate on our love and life ahead while we walk to the center. There we can consummate our union.”

“HeartBond?”

“Why not? You don't have an ancestral bedsponge or home. Neither do I. The only better place would be SacredGrove, and this spot is familiar and even . . . cherished by me.”

She melted and swept a lock of hair back from his face. “Of course.” She wouldn't have to use her HeartGift after all. Maybe she should hold it in reserve. HeartMates or no, there'd be some rough times ahead.

He took her hand and they dipped back into the night shadows of the crater and the entrance to the path. “I want you to accept the position in Gael City. It will be good for you not to have to answer to anyone, and to be in charge of others. Gael City will be perfect for us. Not many Nobles have estates there, it's predominantly middle and artisan class, has more casual customs. I'll miss sailing though.
Sea
sailing.”

As they walked, the path and the pace cycled Lark down into a meditative state that she had to struggle against to match wits with Holm. Despite the fact he'd finally grounded himself and found his true balance, it was obvious that meditation would never be a preferred ritual for him.

“I have some gilt and this.” He touched the amulet hanging from his neck.

Dismay shocked her into alertness. “You're
not
selling the amulet.”

“I want to establish a salon—”

“We can do that.
We.
I have plenty of gilt saved for both of us.”

“What's your salary as Head of Gael City HealingHall?” asked Holm.

Lark flushed. “I don't know.” She straightened to her full height, several inches shorter than her HeartMate. “Gilt wasn't the reason I applied for the job.”

He siphoned a jumble of her memories through their link and swiftly sorted through them. Lark was astonished at how easily and deftly he accessed her thoughts and feelings—even old thoughts and feelings.

Holm smiled lopsidedly. “You wanted to start anew, away from the machinations of T'Hawthorn and T'Heather. I don't blame you. But now you're closer to them both.”

She smiled back at him. “A blessing. We'll visit Druida often, and have visitors from here, too, I have no doubt.” She gestured to the Ashes' offering—T'Ash's forebears—a grove of towering Ash trees in a semicircle. The current T'Ash had created a circular pavement set with a mosaic of precious stones depicting the World Tree and the Rainbow Serpent.

“Yes. We'll have visitors. There are plenty of good gem stores in Gael City,” Holm said.

When they reached the next turn, Holm swept her into his arms for a long kiss. He arched her to him, setting her sex against his own and rubbing. His calloused hands stroked her through the seduction fabric and were as excitingly sensual to her as to him. Desire weakened her knees, making her clench her fingers into his butt.

“Yes,” Holm groaned into her mouth. He opened her lips and vanquished her tongue, plundering her mouth and probing deeply, setting up a thrusting pattern that foreshadowed the claiming of her body with his.

Pure, raw male possessiveness roared through her from him. Her last rational thought was that she wouldn't have to use her HeartGift after all.

Holm caught the comment. He disengaged and took a pace back, then shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “I heard that. A HeartGift. For me! Give it to me, Bélla.”

She arched her brows. “The giving—and accepting—of a HeartGift should be done unknowingly.”

He flicked a hand and smiled charmingly. “Rules. We've done very well without rules, my Bélla.”

“I've already given you a gift,” she pointed out.

Holm's brows drew together. “So you did, and Meserv rescued it from my former rooms. But the wreath was one you'd give to a onenight lover, not a HeartMate. I made the blossoms permanent, but I want another, with proper HeartMate flowers, fashioned from your own hands.” He eyed her. “You aren't wearing anything under that dress, so my gift isn't a wreath.”

A sprite of mischief danced through her, and she sent it to him over their link. She wondered if he'd blush again if she gave him the gift.

He straightened to soldierly attention. “I do not blush.”

“No? We'll see.” From one of the long sleeves she pulled a box, then opened her fingers to show a blue, softleaf-wrapped gift, tied with a deep rose-colored ribbon.

Love surged through Holm, and when he took the wrapped HeartGift, so did deep, aching desire. His brain went numb; all he could think was that he'd be HeartBound soon. “This has power. When did you make it?” The words were awkward on his tongue.

“As you said about mine, the power isn't as strong as usual for a HeartGift because I didn't make it during my last Passage. But I made it after I knew we were HeartMates, after I acknowledged you yesterday. I dedicated it during a small ritual in my apartment.” She smiled and Holm sensed there was a surprise he couldn't anticipate. “I made it on the red sofa.”

“We
are
taking that sofa to Gael City, I hope.” Any suavity he'd possessed seemed to be leaking out of his feet into the ground.

“Oh, yes. And the bedsponge.”

He recalled the bedsponge. It was a great bedsponge. He wished it was here, now. He shot a glance toward the Ash tree that marked the center of the labyrinth and wondered how many more circuits there were. He hadn't kept track of the rounds they'd already covered.

Frowning, he knew he was stuck in his old dilemma. Though the HeartBond would be mental and permanent and incredibly special, he wanted Lark with a physical force that shook him.

Holm gazed down at the gift in his hands, then glanced at Lark. She was staring at his turgid sex. She caught his gaze, then licked her lips. He was lost.

He held out a hand. “Come to me, Bélla.”

She swayed to him, hips sliding under the seduction gown that made him think how she looked on top of him. Or under him. When she placed her hand in his, the firestorm of their connection aroused him to near pain. He set his teeth.

“Let's 'port to the center,” he said.

Lark looked doubtful.

A side of his mouth kicked up. “I've had great experience with this labyrinth. I know the coordinates. Trust me.”

Her serious lavender gaze made his heart pound. “I do, lover.”

He was doomed.

They 'ported to the center, and he lowered her to a thick bed of moss that he'd cultivated over the last couple of months for his own use, and lay down beside her.

“My HeartGift. Open it,” she said.

He'd forgotten about it. He wished he could blame the stripping of all his control on the power of the piece, but he couldn't. He was sure that just being near his Bélla would always fire passion in his loins.

But the present almost clung to his fingers. His hands trembled and he awkwardly tore the wrapping off in shreds, getting his fingers tangled in the narrow ribbon.

She slid a hand up his chest, and his mind clouded further when she toyed with his amulet, absently brushing his nipples as she fingered the chain. “So these lips match mine, do they?” she murmured.

Finally he got the softleaf mostly off and stared at her gift. He choked. Tremors slid into his muscles.

“I bought it from T'Ash. He gave me instructions on how to set it.” She shot him a wicked look from under lowered lashes. “My HeartGift to you, the second pink pearl from Clam.” Both her hands dropped to caress his rigid shaft.

He panted.

She set the phallic pearl next to his shaft. “I was right. They match.”

He pounced. He rolled her under him and had her whimpering in passion in seconds. Their link expanded, without thought he opened all of himself and sent the HeartBond rocketing through him and into her. She accepted it, accepted him, let him possess her and claim her and moan his need.

And when they climaxed she bit him and he knew he could never live without her.

Later Bel's light peeped over the rim of the crater and woke
Lark. She opened foggy eyes to see Holm smiling down at her. The echo of his thoughts, the completeness of his love washed through her.

Two small bodies hit them. Holm grunted. Phyll balanced on their entwined forms to walk up and lick her face.
D'Ash had to help get us here,
he scolded. Meserv burped, then rolled a lumpish bag to Holm.
Clothes,
he said.

“How did D'Ash—” started Lark.

Holm glanced at the large Ash tree above them. “I'd imagine T'Ash has a link to this tree.” Holm shrugged. “Now we're HeartBound, let's see what a walk out of the labyrinth will bring.” He shook out a wrinkled pair of brown trous and shirt and dressed.

Phyll perked up.
Very in-ter-es-ting place.

I have been here several times,
Meserv boasted.
I will show you the best things.
They bounded off.

“Merry meet!” trilled a young male voice.

“Oh, no,” Holm said. “Don't look. Perhaps he'll go away.”

“I bring a note from your Mamá,” T'Vine said.

Holm tensed and held out a hand. “D'Holly.”

“She will always be your mother.”

“That's true. But she isn't my Mamá anymore.”

Lark winced.

Holm read the note aloud. “To my dear Holm and Lark. I give you my blessing. A mother's blessing, a GreatLady's blessing. Go with the Lady and Lord.”

“You are blessed even without her,” Vinni said. “She sent this, too.” Vinni handed a music strip to Holm. Lark crowded near to read the title. “Holm and Lark's Wedding Theme.”

She sniffed. Holm's hand trembled as he carefully put the music in the envelope and tucked the letter in a trous pocket.

Vinni stared down at something and turned dark red. Lark followed his gaze. Her HeartGift, the phallic pearl set in silver, lay gleaming coral against deep green moss. Lark scooped it up and handed it to Holm. “My HeartGift.” She smiled at Vinni. He shuffled his feet and drifted closer to the labyrinth path. “Holm, put it in the box.”