Heart Journey (16 page)

She wore masculine dress of elegantly cut but narrow-legged trous that showed off an excellent derriere and a shirt with slightly bloused sleeves. From the looks she got, Raz thought the woman might bring such clothes into fashion.

He’d dropped a few conversational starters about her and listened to very thin information. The newssheets had run an article on her maps and the city museum would be hanging holographic copies. Apparently all the good recent maps they had of Celta had come from her hands and brain and Flair. Fascinating.

Raz resorted to bribing the fox. Shunuk had shown up that morning for breakfast at the Thespian’s Club and been pampered by the actors and the staff. Raz had discovered the Fam had a fondness for clucker and rabbit and had had a dish made up especially for him.

Muzzle deep in the bowl, tail waving, the Fam had assured Raz that he would keep Del in the long cobblestoned rectangle between the theaters until Raz got there after his performance.

The play went better that night, since Raz had an extra spark of excitement. He kept mental contact with Shunuk to ensure Del was staying put until he could reach her. Raz dressed well, but casually, in a blue that picked up the color of his eyes.

She sat on a bench near a tinkling fountain floating with colorful and fragrant water lilies. He’d noted if there was some sort of natural setting around, Del would gravitate to it.

The minute he saw her, his lower body tightened, his pulse sped up, and he felt an underlying flush of anticipation. Yes, this was the woman he wanted, for now.

He bowed and offered his arm and a sincere smile.

She raised her brows. “GrandSir Cherry?”

Shaking his head, he said, “You know it’s Raz . . . Del.”

“Raz. Thanks again for the flowers.” Her dimples showed, the first time he’d seen them since the party. He was charmed.

She linked arms with him and his nerves quivered. He concentrated on keeping his blood in his head and not pooling lower. Maybe he’d get another searing kiss tonight, but he didn’t think he’d get more, no matter how much he seduced. But it would be fun to try.

“Where are we going? Am I walking you home?” she asked.

An image came of them together on his bedsponge, him plunging into her slick heat. He swallowed, discreetly, he hoped. “Wherever you go in the evenings after the theater.”

“Been watching me, huh?”

“Oh, yes.” He slid his hand down her forearm and took her fingers. Skin to skin. Very, very nice.

The thready link wove stronger between them.

Shunuk yipped.
I will meet you later. I have a couple of food caches to check and nibble.
The fox melted into the dark shadows before Raz could comment.

“You’ve discovered his weakness.”

“We all have them,” Raz said. “You knew Shunuk visited me?”

“He told me of you. Over the last few years, we’ve watched two of your holospheres many times.”

Raz smiled.

“Among others,” she ended.

He started walking in the direction that she always went. At the end of the flagstone rectangle where several streets branched off, he made a half bow and waved his hand. She glanced sidelong at him, gave him a mysterious smile. “Trust me?”

“Yes.” The answer came out of his mouth with the force of utmost truthfulness. That surprised him, but Del walked on as if it meant little to her.

She was used to being trusted. She was honest and would limit contact with dishonest people. So if you didn’t trust her, you got out of her way. Admirable, if a little daunting. Much of the theater world included masks and manipulation. Even if actors didn’t intend to slip into characters, their nature sometimes had them doing just that.

With Del, you saw the real person and accepted her or not.

And she might not care if you didn’t accept her.

Raz found that he cared very much that she accepted him.

S
oon they were out of the theater district and walking toward the less
popular clubs. Del had a long, easy gait that told him she spent a lot of time walking. He smiled at the thought of her hiking all over Druida. It looked good on her.

They turned down a street that opened onto a strip of shabby park. A loud mixture of eye-crossing music blasted from the open doors of several clubs. Raz walked to a beat of dance music. Couples were dancing in the park, and some were fading into the shadows of large trees. He’d like to do either with Del.

She passed most of the doors, strode to one that was shut. There was no name above it. She rapped briskly and it opened. The greeter bowed. “GrandLady D’Elecampane.” He turned to Raz. “And guest . . . ah, Raz. It’s been a long time.”

“I didn’t know where you’d moved to,” Raz said, though he could have found out.

Del’s lips quirked. “You like jazz, Raz?”

“Yes.” He kept his voice down. Musicians were on the stage and the club took jazz seriously. Slipping an arm around her waist, he nodded to the doorman and spotted Shunuk at a table in one of the best areas.

Two full glasses of wine were on the table. Shunuk didn’t turn his head, kept it focused on the small stage.
The music is good tonight. Mellow with no instrument screeches.

“Ah,” Del said.

Shunuk likes jazz, too.
Her telepathy was a lovely brush against Raz’s mind, clear, almost familiar. As straightforward as her words.

What’s not to like?
Raz asked as he seated her and pulled his own chair close.

She smiled at him, wide enough he saw both her dimples. Then she turned toward the musicians, head tilted, sipping her wine. He moved their linked fingers to his thigh, enjoyed the sweet bite of desire . . . anticipation. Yes, he would definitely have this woman.

He watched Del for a while, saw her eyelids lower, felt her move into a state of absorbed listening. Since he admired the music and respected the musicians, he gave up his plan of seduction.

The music might be seduction in itself. It was low, throbbing, wove an atmosphere of sound pulsing with Flair around them, different beats, different instruments, all pleasure. The best pleasure was Del’s relaxed fingers on his leg. He let himself sink into a semi-trance state, too.

This was good. He drank a few swallows of his wine, unsurprised to find it the best the place carried, and he lost himself in the present. Each improvised note was unique, the tune never to be the same again. Sharing such a fragile and fraught moment with Del was perfect.

He didn’t know how long the time out of time lasted, but he was on his feet clapping when the last low wail of the saxophone stopped. It felt nearly as good to give applause as well as receive it. Nearly.

Del stood beside him, clapping, then she reached into the pocket of her trous and took out some folded bills with golden edges. Shunuk set his teeth carefully around them, hopped from his chair to weave through the crowd and drop the gilt into a stone urn on the stage.

A ripple of laughter and applause followed Shunuk, but the musicians nodded to him and squinted out from the brightly lit stage into the dimness of the club. Impossible to make out people from that vantage point, but the whole quartet bowed.

Shunuk barked and headed for the door. Though the crowd settled, Del remained standing. She smiled at him, then sighed.

He’d have liked to think the sigh was for him but figured it was for the delight at the music. Her body seemed looser. “I must go now,” she said with regret in her tones. “I have an early-morning appointment.”

“Can I take you home? My glider is behind the theater. I wish more of your company.”

After a pause, she replied, “I’d like that. Thank you.”

When she preceded him, he set his fingertips on the small of her back, enjoyed the surge of desire when they touched.

On the way out, Raz stopped to hand additional coins to the doorman for the service and the musicians. It was obvious that Del was a member of the club and ran a tab.

People yet danced in the park as they passed. Once again Raz had taken Del’s hand. Walking hand in hand with her was a simple pleasure he couldn’t forego. If he was with Del, he’d be touching her, linked with her through more than just the emotional bond forming between them.

When they reached the street across from the theater rectangle, Raz was within spell-calling distance of Cherry. She’d been returned in perfect condition.

He stopped Del by slipping his arm around her waist, pulling her close. She didn’t object and Raz’s blood pulsed at the thought of a good night kiss. She wouldn’t invite him inside her home, but at least they’d savor another hungry kiss.

Cherry zoomed up and Del exclaimed. Even the tough wilderness woman wasn’t immune to a bright and gleaming red sports glider. He lifted the door for her, and the scent of new furrabeast leather wafted out.

She sniffed and slid into the single passenger seat. He walked around the glider with a grin. He was impressing the woman, and he liked that. Once inside, he gave Del’s address and Cherry slid into the night. He touched a button and the speed slowed.

“Very pretty car,” Del said.

“Thank you, a gift from my parents. Cherry, please play jazz.”

More jazz floated on the air.

Del chuckled. “Your glider has a name.”

“Wouldn’t you name yours?” He leaned closer, wishing for the first time the vehicle had a bench seat.

“My stridebeasts have names, of course . . . but a glider? I don’t know.” She shook her head.

He took her hands, brought one, then the other to his lips. Had he felt a throb of desire from her through their bond? He hoped so. Turning one of her hands over, he kissed her wrist, swore he could feel the rapid beat of her heart. He let the tip of his tongue touch her, taste her. Sweet saltiness, herbs, Del.

She flinched, and he knew it couldn’t be from fear. Overwhelming desire? Good, because his body was heating enough to simmer the thoughts from his brain. He kissed her other wrist and her pulse picked up, or maybe that was his own. “We have a mutual attraction.”

“Yes.”

“Is that why you avoided me?”

She withdrew her hands. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

He wasn’t stupid enough to say “sex.”

“I don’t want to be a few-week fling easily forgotten by a sophisticated man,” she said. “You play by different rules here in Druida. I’m not accustomed to playing at all. When I want sex and a man is available, I have sex. Then we go our separate ways . . .” Her voice turned harsher. “I don’t want you using me . . . for any reason.”

Raz sat up straight, met her gaze. “I wouldn’t. Only use you as you used me. Equally. Passionately. To discover the pleasure we
will
have together.” He ran his forefinger along her jaw. “We have a bond, don’t we? An attraction and a bond.” An image of his HeartMate dreams flickered through his mind, vanished. Imagination. This was reality.

“I want to have sex with you,” she said.

He shuddered. “Yes. But I want more. I want to spend time with you. You are different from anyone I’ve known.”

She turned so she was looking forward, not angled toward him. “I’ve spent much of my time on the road, in the wilderness. Alone. I don’t play games.”

“Oh, Del, don’t you understand that I know that?” He took one of her hands from her lap, linked his fingers with hers. “We have an attraction, a desire, a bond. Isn’t that enough?”

“Is it too much for you, Raz? Too intense?”

He let a breath out on a laugh. “You see? You know.
We
know that it’s intense, not simple and not unimportant between us. Already.”

Again he reached for her other hand, took it, twined his fingers with hers. Flair, feelings, cycled between them.

He could sense the liquid heat in the core of her body. How she liked looking at him. His aspect and form pleased her. That triggered his arousal and he knew she’d sense the thickening of his shaft, his yearning for her. “Only you,” he said.

She laugh-coughed. “Never enough sexual encounters in the wild. Either no sex, or lots for a few nights. Still, I like to know who I’m rolling around with.”

He wasn’t too pleased that she’d reduced his romanticism to a basic urge. He pressed their palms together, and they fit. As closely as their bodies would fit. “I know that you love jazz and have watched my holos and attended my show. You said you admired my work. I admire
you
. I’m certain that when I see your work, I will admire it, too.” He straightened their hands until he could nibble her fingertips. “I want to learn you, Del.” He left it at that, let the link reinforce the fact that his body ached for sex with her, that his emotions were as confused about her as ever but his predominant feeling was sheer fascination.

He felt her need, deeper than he’d anticipated, as if it were a great whirlpool that could drag him down. If she let it. Which she wouldn’t. She was a woman in control.