Keepers of the Flame (40 page)

She
could have grabbed him and pulled him down into bed—desire was rising in her.
But it wasn’t fair to use him. She wanted neither of them to use each other.
His fingers brushed her face. He’d stay and torment her with tender touches and
that would lead to other things, lovely things, but something she was unsure
whether was good. So she sat up.

“Come
with me,” he repeated and she put her hand in his.

29

S
evair took Bri’s
hand. Her fingers linked with his. He could hear the melody of her Song,
quieter than before. Yet there was an underlying lilt of passion that had him
tugging her from the bed. Quick hearty sex wasn’t what he wanted. Not entirely.

They
were out of the bedroom quickly. Good. “Follow me.” He’d planned this
carefully, of course, so he had a light wrap for both of them waiting on a
bench. But the evening was warm enough that they wouldn’t need them. The
weather had been so uncertain, he’d played it safe. As always.

When
he opened the door to the evening glow his heart thumped harder. He wasn’t
playing it safe with Bri.

His
emotions had been tangled around her from the beginning, when she and her
sister had responded to the Summoning, two shining beings. At the time she’d been
afraid, yet she’d used her Power to heal the boy, the rest of his people.
Gratitude and relief had filled him, that they’d done right in paying for and
participating in the Summoning. He’d had trouble keeping his mind on the
welfare of his charges, had only wanted to turn and watch the women. Did one of
them have
purple
streaks in her hair? What did that signify?

The
sight of her the next morning in a flimsy shirt and tights, bedroom attire, had
stirred more than his loins. His heart had jumped, too. She’d looked…fresh.
He’d held her in his arms on the volaran trip to town and had listened to her
Song and had never wanted to let her go.

Events
had moved fast since then, and to his surprise, he’d stepped forward to block
Faucon’s interest in her, and Koz’s, and any other man’s. Been possessive, even
when he knew Bri should not be distracted with…caring.

Even
when she said she wouldn’t stay, would return
home
. She didn’t consider
Lladrana her home. Didn’t think she’d remain and make a home here, like the other
Exotiques.

He
was taking the greatest risk of his life trying to tie this independent and
mercurial woman to him, to Lladrana. He was leaving himself vulnerable to being
abandoned again.

They’d
left the square and had walked through the public gardens full of brilliant
summer flowers catching the low rays of the sun, looking more like stained
glass than living blooms. They strolled along Guildhall Boulevard. He’d walked
this path so often that his feet had carried him the right way. But he
certainly hadn’t been charming on the way. Others were out, but were respecting
his body language and Song and not approaching.

“Sevair?”
She looked up with raised brows. He’d been silent too long.

Her
hand was tucked into the corner of his arm. When had that happened? He’d been
holding her hand. Her fingers had escaped him and were around his elbow where
they could fall away so easily.

She’d
distracted him, as usual, so he wasn’t following his plan.

He
put his free hand on hers, stopped and turned toward her. “You
were…magnificent…today.”

She
sent him an odd look. “It was Elizabeth’s show. She was the one who figured
this out.”

“Elizabeth
was the one who deduced this portion of the problem,” he said.

Bri’s
eyes widened and he saw weight come into them, perhaps even an anticipatory
fear. He ground his teeth—he wanted to compliment her, tell her how much he
valued her. He was going about this all wrong! Better to have kept his mouth
shut.

She
sighed deeply. “There are more tasks.”

He
was guiltily glad all their problems hadn’t been solved, that no Snap would
come to whisk Bri away from him too soon.

Again
he took her hand and raised it to his lips. “I have every confidence in you.”
Stiltedly, he added, “I am sorry that you can’t leave Lladrana.”

“No,
you’re not,” she said flatly.

“I’m
sorry you’re worried about your parents.” Turning her to face him, he went with
the complete truth. “I want you in every possible way.”

When
she didn’t answer, he wondered if he’d been clear. She wasn’t Elizabeth, who’d
slept with a Lladranan man and knew nuances of the language.

“I
want you, too,” she muttered.

He
let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, glad she could admit it.
Taking her other hand, he brushed his lips against hers.

She
looked shocked. “In public?”

A
lift and a fall of his shoulder. He didn’t care what others saw, speculated
upon. Not in this. He said none of the things racing in his head, expressed
none of the feelings beating through his heart. He didn’t want her to know how
determined he was to have her. To keep her.

Letting
one of her hands escape, he began to walk, all too aware of her fingers in his,
that Powerful, small hand clasped in his. Like the first morning they’d spent
together, he listened to her Song.

It
was different.

The
realization jolted, and lifted his spirits, the wings of hope, that perhaps,
perhaps, she might stay.

If
he asked her if she wanted to stay, she’d deny it. Such a contrary woman. But
not foolish or feckless.

He
couldn’t walk in silence while he considered the change in her Song. A daring
idea came to him, and he freed his Song, directed it to her, showed all of
himself.

She
stumbled and he righted her, slowed the pace and kept on strolling.

Her
Song had reacted to his, rising high. Her cheeks flushed and her palm grew damp
against his. He smiled, settled his own Song, kept it strong and steady, and
analyzed hers.

It
was more ebullient.

He
blinked.
More!
How could that be? Her lifeforce must have been low, her
energy depleted when they’d Summoned her, and events had drained her more than
she revealed. Could he
ever
keep up with her? He set his shoulders and
his Song reflected intense determination.

She
glanced at him, a little wary.

She
should be. He wouldn’t let her abandon him easily.

There
were other changes in her Song, had been others, now that he compared it over
time. There had been a loosening of a tight, minor key melody, anxiety perhaps.
She’d have been anxious after the Summoning, then settled in. Now worry
tightened that portion of the Song again and he didn’t like it.

“Where
are we going?” she asked.

He
smiled slowly and she glanced away. He said, “You don’t like the walk or the
music?”

Pink
smoothed over her cheeks, fascinating. He squeezed her fingers.

“Seeing
and being seen. Not doing any business tonight,” she said.

“Perhaps
I do conduct a little business during the after-dinner walks. I hadn’t thought
of it much.”

“Because
business is duty and you would never shirk your duty.”

“True,”
he said lightly, wrapped her in his Song. “But this walk has nothing of
business and duty.”

She
glanced at him, eyes wide and fathomless. Thinking non-Lladranan thoughts when
he wanted her concentrated on him. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed
it.

“You’re
smothering me with that Song of yours,” she said softly.

“No,
I’m not. You’re free to listen or to shield yourself.”

“I
don’t like to be smothered, controlled. Live up to expectations,” she said
sulkily.

“Who
could control you, such a free spirit?”

Her
eyebrows lowered. “Are you mocking me?”

“Teasing
perhaps. Don’t you say I am too serious?”

“You
have a lot to be serious about.”

“You’re
not going to divert me with duty, Bri. Walking with you and listening to your
Song, sharing my Song with you, has been nothing but pleasure.” He chuckled.
“But I take my pleasures seriously, too. Here we are.” They stood in a small
side door to the guildhall. He hummed the pass-spell he’d created and
heard
the rhythms of it again, felt its beat like a hammer against stone.

When
they entered it was to light. Bri looked up at the ceiling window five stories
above them. The rest of the small room was shadowed. A switchback stairway lay
ahead.

He
shut the door and turned and pressed her against it. No, he didn’t mind kissing
her in public, easy kisses, but what he wanted was more and deeper. For that he
wanted privacy so he could savor her. He moved in, his mouth finding her soft
lips, tasting her, connecting Song to Song.

Sensations
flooded him as he’d never allowed. He needed the taste and touch of this woman.
Infinitely intriguing. It was the last thought he had before he succumbed to
passion and pleasure and desire roared in his ears.

Then
he was being firmly pushed away—with Power more than her hands against his
chest. She smiled up at him. “You wanted to show me the side entry to the
guildhall?”

His
eyes narrowed even as his body pulsed with need. She was flushed, and her Song
held arousal, her heartbeat fluttered fast in her throat. She wasn’t rejecting
him, exactly. She was…wary. Wouldn’t be controlled by her own passion, let
alone another’s. A chuckle rumbled deep in his throat. By the time he was
finished with her, she’d be bound to him and Lladrana by a million tiny chains
she hadn’t noticed him forging.

He
suppressed the fiery demands of his body, the impatient desire tumbling through
his veins. His pants were tight, his fingers shaking, heat slid through him. He
ignored it, brushed a barely-purple strand of hair away from her face. Her skin
was much lighter than his. He could see her easily in the dim light.

His
hands were around her upper arms, he slid his palms down to her fingers—her
limp fingers—squeezed them briefly and kept her left hand clasped in his own as
he turned to the stairs. “Up.” The word came out rough.

“I can
tell you are,” she muttered.

He
roared with laughter. Catching her close with one arm, he lifted her off her
feet and whirled around in exuberance.
He loved her
. He knew it, it
burst through him, but he was canny enough not to say it.

He
set her feet on the second step of the staircase, released her, patted her
bottom, did
not
let his hand linger on the supple firmness. “Up.”

She
glanced at him over her shoulder, a baffled look on her face. “I’m not going to
be ravished in your office, am I?”

He
wanted to, oh, yes, the blood pounded through him, swelling his shaft. But now
was not the time. Perhaps later, maybe even later tonight, but not now. Her
defenses were too high.

“No,”
he said. His office was in his parents’ house. “We’re going all the way up. To
the rooftop.”

Her
eyes widened with curiosity, another treat, good. He jerked his chin up. “Go.”

She
turned and ascended the stairs. He had to fist his hands to keep them from the
sweet sway of her ass. His vision dimmed a little as his body surged once more.

The
stairs were wide; his former master, the architect of the building, was
perspicacious in that. No twisting, narrow staircases for the guildhall, leave
that for Castles and warriors. This was a solid building of the merchant class.
Up they went, with skylights well placed to show them the way. At the top
landing, she waited for him, head tilted as if she was considering his strategy
and forming her own.

Sevair
smiled. The lady was spontaneous, more used to abandoning a plan when a new
idea came along than sticking to it. He was just the opposite.

“I
don’t know that I like that smile,” she said.

“Just
admiring you,” he replied lightly, unlocked the broad oak door and swung it
open. “Let’s admire the view, one of my favorites. I’d like to share it with
you.”

She
went out onto the stone walkway around the tiled roof. The parapet came to his
waist, higher on her. She turned toward the setting sun and gasped. “It’s a
beautiful sight.”

“Yes.”
As he’d anticipated, the sunlight gilded the city, showing orderly streets,
verdant parks. The walls, too, looked golden, then the green and gentle hills.

“I
don’t know that I’ve ever seen a more beautiful land, and I’ve been to many.”
She breathed deeply, smiled. “Nice, clean air, too.”

“What?”

Her
smile flicked on and off her face, wistful. “The wonders of our world come with
a cost. Our air is not clean.”

How
could you have unclean air? He thought of the horrors, how their stench,
physical and spiritual, befouled the air. How frinks fell with the rain. Surely
they left a smudge, too.