Jaded (5 page)

She understood that Byron had been distantly related to the Edaeii, but it wasn’t common knowledge. His father had been considered part of the merchant class with a business of mining elusian crystal, a substance that powered lights and other small devices. The Andropov family gave much charity to their town of Ulstrat and was loved for treating their elusian miners well, so the family had been safe during the revolution. During the uprising and the beheadings of the nobles that had followed, she’d worried incessantly about Byron. Anyone without that telltale
son
or
daughter
attached to their last name, marking them as low-born, had immediately been pegged as noble and targeted.

Byron continued. “Alek also has magick, though his is much stronger than mine. In fact, that’s why I want you to spend some time with him. I think you can help him with his abilities.”

She frowned, trying to track what he’d just said. “You mean you think
I
can help him develop his magick? I have no magickal ability, Byron, and even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to help anyone with theirs. You do understand what I am, don’t you? I’m a paid companion. Nothing more.”

“I disagree, my beautiful.”

“Byron, really—”

“You’ll understand better when you meet Alek.”

She studied him, wanting to ask more, but he’d turned his attention out the window and seemed unwilling to elaborate. Silence reigned for several minutes before she finally tried to press him a little more. “Is there anything I need to know that you’re not telling me?”

“There’s not much I can tell you myself. I can say that Alek thinks his magick means nothing and I think it means everything. I’m hoping you can open him up to the possibilities of the world beyond logic. He’s locked down, tight in everything he does. There’s a reason for it, one he needs to get past. You have some experience in getting over traumatic events and carrying on with your life.”

Ah, a kindred spirit, then. Or so Byron thought. She still doubted she could help this Alek, but she was impressed that Byron was going so far out of his way for him. “Why do you care so much about this man?”

His gaze met hers and held. “He’s a very good friend and I have known him since childhood. He has no family, only me. I have no family left either. I want everything good for him—the best. Therefore, I want
you
for him for three weeks. Long enough for him to enjoy you.” He grinned. “Perhaps long enough for him to fall in love with you. He needs a jolt to his heart. I think you will do the job nicely.”

She smiled and looked down into her lap. “You flatter and you’re unrealistic. I don’t understand how being around me will unlock the magick in him. I have no special powers. I’m just a woman.”

He slid closer beside her, caught her chin, and guided her gaze to his. His eyes looked heavy with arousal. “Then you don’t know half your worth, Lilya.” His voice was low and rough. It sent a tremor through her.

“You overestimate my value. I may disappoint.”

His face drifted closer to hers. “I knew you then and I know you now. You’ve aged, grown wiser, more sure of yourself. It’s made you even more beautiful than you were before. No, I will never undervalue you, Lilya. I never have and I never will.”

That was true enough. It was seeing her value in his eyes that had saved her life, had put her on the path to seeing value in her own eyes when she looked in a mirror. Without him she would have died in a dirty alleyway years ago.

His lips brushed hers, just the slightest, softest of touches. Her body went malleable, her blood heating. Just the mere prospect of his hands on her turned her insides to jelly, frightened her with the intense desire it lit within her. It was irresistible, so new and different. She wanted more.

She reached up and cupped his cheek, his jaw warm and prickly against the skin of her palm. His gaze met hers and the expression in his eyes—
need tightly leashed
—reached in and squeezed emotion in her chest. Tilting her head to the side a little and enjoying the feel of his breath on her lips for a moment, she pressed her lips to his.

He made a low sound in the back of his throat and slanted his mouth over hers. The action made a thrill of anticipation run through her, set her heart to pounding. Her hand found its way to the nape of his neck, and his arm snaked around her waist. He pressed her into the seats and parted her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth.

Her body hummed with need. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted a man this way. If he asked her she would allow him to take her right here and now in this carriage on the way through Milzyr. The time and place didn’t matter—only their bodies and the promise of mutual ecstasy mattered.

The carriage jolted to a stop. Outside the sounds of the transport station filtered in through her pleasure-drugged senses. Desire faded to disappointment. They’d arrived.

Byron pulled himself away from her reluctantly, his eyes heavy-lidded and hungry. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe, and arranged her mussed skirts.

The carriage door opened, letting sunlight stream in. “Steam transport station,” announced the narrow-faced driver in a heavy East Milzyrian accent.

She looked out the open door to the long, sleek black transport beyond, steam puffing from its engine. With Byron at her side she suddenly had the sensation that her world was about to change forever. Her stomach fluttered and, stepping out of the carriage, she had an inexplicable urge to bolt. She wasn’t sure she wanted her life to change.

Her steps faltered and she looked away from the transport, back toward the city. Maybe she should turn him down, go back to the Temple of Dreams, and forget this ever happened.

“Are you all right?” Byron asked, placing a hand at the small of her back.

“I’m . . . fine.” This was nonsense. She needed to get a grip on herself. She’d been 100 percent in control of her life since the moment Byron helped her regain it. There was no reason to suddenly feel as though she’d lost it all again in his presence. It was simply her past rearing its head. If she knew what the trouble was, she could face it—defeat it. She looked up at him and forced a confident smile onto her face. “I’m fine, really.”

She just wished she fully believed it.

“Good.” He guided her toward the transport. “This way. I rent a private car because of all the trips I take into Milzyr.”

Allowing the carriage driver to take care of their luggage, they mounted the steel steps that led into the transport and traveled down the narrow walkway to the car that Byron rented. He shut the sliding door behind them while she sank onto the cushioned seat near a large window and looked out at the busy platform. People hurried up and down the narrow walkway, suitcases in hand and, in some cases, children trailing behind.

“It’s amazing,” she murmured. “So full of activity.”

The steam transport was one of the few inventions that the Edaeii family hadn’t suppressed during their reign. She supposed its usefulness outweighed the threat they’d perceived it to be. Still the transport was relatively new and Lilya had never had any cause to ride it. She’d only ever seen the station from afar.

He took the seat across from her and gazed out the window. “It’s a marvel of the new age. The Tinkers’ Guild is a wonderful organization. I can’t wait to see what they come up with next.” His words held more than just a hint of wonder.

Soon the conductor blew a shrill whistle and called for any remaining passengers. Then the doors closed and the transport jerked from its place and began to roll slowly down the tracks. They passed out of the city and soon the rolling green countryside became their vista.

She tore her eyes away from the beautiful scene. “So, you know what I’ve been doing these past six years, but what have you been doing?”

“Taking care of my father’s business, playing crossball, dabbling in philanthropy, dodging the revolution. Now I’m working with Gregorio. It’s been an eventful few years.” He paused. “You never left my mind, Lilya. Not ever. Not even for a day.”

She felt her cheeks heat. “Charmer.”

“I’m telling the truth.”

Glancing into her lap, she admitted the truth. “I never stopped thinking about you either.” She raised her eyes to his. “Shame on you for never sending word.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Lilya, but I thought it was better that way. I needed to leave when I did, otherwise I never would have had the strength. You needed me to leave too.”

She tilted her head to the side, annoyance suddenly flaring. “How do you know what I needed?”

“Back then you had no idea, Lilya. Admit it.”

She inhaled and looked out the window. “No, I probably didn’t.”

“You definitely didn’t need a mooning man whom you couldn’t love following you around.”

She smiled, but it was bitter. He was missing the irony of that statement. All she’d had since he’d left were mooning men she couldn’t love. “You never would have been that to me.”

“You were not ready for another relationship back then, Lilya.”

“Not a serious one.” She met his gaze. “You’re right. Not even one with you. Ivan ruined me for life where those are concerned.”

A light seemed to die in his eyes. “I know.”

Memory threatened to swamp her and she looked down into her lap. “Can we talk of something else? This is not a happy conversation.”

Just then a serving woman knocked on the compartment door, there to offer them refreshments. Lilya accepted a glass of iced tea and concentrated on its cool sweetness washing down her throat, forcing down all the darkness their dialogue had dredged up within her. Apparently seeing Byron had brought much of it to the fore.

B
yron watched Lilya mount the stone stairs of his house. She seemed unaffected by the size and luxury of the place. Of course, he knew she would be unimpressed. Lilya was not materialistic. She was never awed by titles or the size of a man’s savings account, and no man could buy her affection with money or baubles. Not her genuine affection, anyway. Nothing that truly mattered.

He opened the door and led her into the foyer. Their steps echoed on the marble of the entryway.

She turned in a circle, examining the vaulted ceiling. “It’s very . . .” She trailed off, her voice sounding hollow in the immense area.

“Large and empty,” Byron said.

She turned toward him, peeling off her gloves. “Don’t you keep any servants?”

“I have a woman named Mara who comes in to cook and clean, since I lack abilities in both realms. Otherwise, no. I think a man can do most things for himself. I clear the snow off the steps myself, build the fires myself, and so on.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Bring up the water for your bath yourself?”

He smiled. “I had heated water pipes installed the moment they became available. All I need to do is turn a spigot.”

She peered down a narrow corridor leading to the study. “I’m impressed. I would have thought you’d have a whole fleet of people to wait on you.”

“That only proves how little you truly know me.”

“Well.” She turned with a sparkle in her eyes. “Then I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

His stomach took an unexpected dip at the look on her face. He’d never forgotten how beautiful she was, but he’d assumed his reaction to her must have faded over the years. It hadn’t. He was as susceptible to her now as he’d been six years ago. That meant he was about to get hurt, but if it meant helping Alek it would be worth it. And she
would
help Alek. Not in the way Alek would probably most like, but in the way he most needed. He couldn’t think of a woman better suited.

They held each other’s gazes for several long moments. He didn’t know what she was thinking, but he was thinking he was in deep trouble.

Her smile widened. “Also, I can’t wait to take a bath drawn from water coming through heated water pipes.”

He returned her smile, trying to keep the rumble of need out of his voice. “I’m all for that.” Especially if he could watch.

“Byron? Is that you? I’ve been waiting here for—” Alek walked into the foyer and stopped short, his eyes on Lilya. “Hello.”

“Alek, meet Lilya. Lilya, Alek.”

Alek walked toward her, totally entranced. No doubt. Any man would be. With Lilya’s thick, curling dark hair, deep, dark eyes, perfect skin and face, she was catnip to any healthy male. Yet she was so much more than just a pretty face, as Alek would soon discover. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Lilya comes to us from the Temple of Dreams in Milzyr.”

Alek stopped short, his smile fading.

Lilya rounded on him. “You didn’t tell him?”

Byron grinned, pushing a hand through his hair. “If I had, he would have never come.”

A muscle twitched in Alek’s jaw and his brown eyes flared with anger. “What is going on here? Byron, why have you brought a . . . a . . .”