Passion of the Different (20 page)

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Authors: Daniel A Roberts

BOOK: Passion of the Different
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Chapter Thirty - Goodnight My Sweet Queen

"Tell Darya I will talk to her in an hour, that I am meditating on a solution now the tonic has me relaxed," he told the servant at the door who had been sent to fetch him for dinner. "Food is unappealing to me in light of the situation."

"Blame the food, not her. Got it," he replied, his tenor almost amused. "You know she'll come storming in here after you."

"Yes, but don't tell her I know that," Ryan warned him with a hint of conspiracy in his voice. "If she suspects you've been mentoring me on her whims, it won't go well for you."

"I'm not that stupid," the fellow mildly retorted, then left.

The large guy took the time to tussle his hair into disarray, unbuttoned his shirt and kicked off his shoes. He took the pillows and blankets off his bed and tossed them onto the floor. Arranging them to be comfortable, he sat down and crossed his legs. The drug was safely hidden and he was very happy the helpful alchemist told him what he used to take the bitter flavor out. He adjusted his plan to fit, his original choice of drink was peach juice. Mint tea would work just as well.

He sat there for about ten minutes trying to look calm, keeping his back straight and his hands resting on his knees. He had no intention of really meditating, but he had to make it look good enough to get the process across that this was a big deal to him. Sure enough, he could hear the commotion coming down the hall. He closed his eyes.

"I give the commands around here," Darya could be heard saying once her bold soprano got close enough to the thick door. "I say come to dinner, you come."

"Yes, my queen," the servant loyally agreed.

The door opened and she stormed into the room and stopped short. She didn't expect to see him on the floor, legs crossed and surrounded by pillows with his eyes closed, sitting straight up as if at attention. She had never seen such a position before, curiosity and puzzlement internally argued with her over this development. "What are you doing?" she snapped loudly.

He opened his lids but kept his eyes rolled back as far as possible into his head. It looked like his pupils had vanished and he had nothing but pure white orbs. He closed his lids again and then reopened them. They were normal this time and his light blue gaze found the queen. Even the servant suddenly looked disturbed.

"My queen," Ryan said, slow and deliberate as if coming out of a deep sleep. "I think I found the answer but I am not fully aware yet. Forgive me, I work hard to make you happy."

"I admit it," she replied, uncertain yet stern. "I am never sure what to expect. Are you alright, Lord Za'Ryan? That tonic you took do this to you?"

"No," he replied, shook his head dramatically. "I was in a deep trance, exploring the ways of my people," he lied again. "Thinking back to our history and our ancient laws. It takes time and can be harsh if interrupted. But my mind is calm, the tonic was successful in what I wished it to do."

"And?" she prompted, looking hopeful. No true concern for him, she only wanted what it took to meet her demands. That made it much easier to deceive her.

"Tonight in your bedroom we need two glasses of mint tea, not hot and prepared ahead of time so they are room temperature," he said, rubbing his face as if trying to wake up. "We interlock our arms while holding the cups. We drink with elbows hugging each other, and that symbolizes a union between the two lovers. Then after a little fun building each other up, we can have all the sex we want. You will get your wish. But I need a little something extra from you, my queen. Something to help me focus on the task."

"What is it?" she demanded, her breathing coming faster at the thought of total victory.

"Have the signed orders to release my wife under our pillow," he requested, a fake measure of defeat in his rumbling baritone. "It's the only way I can do this and not feel as if I betrayed my wife. I am doing this for her as much as you."

"Agreed," Darya said without hesitation. Then she turned to the guard. "Fetch my scribe and tell him to meet us in my bedchambers," she ordered with high authority. Then back to Ryan. "We'll have dinner served there so there is little delay. Please freshen up, we have a long and nice evening ahead of us."

"That we do," the big man agreed. He stood and stretched as she exited the room and headed next door to her luxurious bedchamber. Her head held high and triumphant, she nor the servant who hurried off to follow the orders saw Ryan slip the thin corked vial into his pocket.

An assortment of food was wheeled in on rolling carts in quick order, surprising Ryan with their speed. He realized they had practice on changing how they served her on short notice, any displeasure was always met with the threat of death. Ryan finally joined her in the queen's own bedchamber and looked around, trying to appear impressed with the display of wealth.

The mint tea arrived and the nervous servant who delivered the tray scurried out and almost collided with the approaching scribe. The official looking functionary side stepped the little fellow and entered the bedroom. Darya noted his presence and dictated the orders to release Myra and the children into Ryan's custody. Once the scribe was done, Darya signed the document and made it official. She placed it as requested and made sure he witnessed it go under the large pillow.

The scribe vanished before Ryan knew it, and Darya went over and dropped the bar that locked her door. He knew there were
listeners
behind the wall and he had to make this sound as natural as possible. "The tea is mine to serve," he told her apologetically, and she grinned at him while going to one of her ornate dressers.

"Never worry about that, Lord Za'Ryan," she explained, her expectations for the evening putting her into an excellent mood, the rest of the food cart quickly forgotten. "I never serve anyone. It's
always
the other way around."

Isn't that the damned truth
, he thought to himself but didn't dare say it out loud. Standing in front of the tea tray so she couldn't see, he slipped the vial out of his pocket and spiked the
left
teacup.
Keep that straight
, his inner voice warned,
or you'll liable to accidentally drug yourself and that will be the end of you.
The empty vial went back into his pocket. He picked up the cups and turned, then nearly dropped them.

At first he thought Darya was completely naked. An ultra thin strip of cloth went across her already stiff nipples and the panty was so slender it couldn't have been more than a few ounces of fabric. She had her blue streaked auburn hair tied back off her incredibly sexy shoulders and the grin on those perfect lips were lust filled dynamite.

"No man has ever had this body," she reminded him, sultry seduction flowing from her stance. "Those who asked for it were killed on the spot. Do you fully know the privilege you're about to receive, Lord Za'Ryan?"

"Yes," he replied honestly. "I do. You also see and know what I must go through to do this for you." He held out her drug laced tea cup. "Shall we begin?"

"Oh yes," she said, stalking up to him with that perfect body. She accepted the cup he offered and they interlaced their arms.

"Drink it all," he told her. "We won't be stopping for refreshment for a long time after this."

She grinned at that and they both tipped their cups up at the same time. She refused to take her dark and beautiful eyes off of his own blue gaze as they drank. She smacked her lips when they set them down but didn't remark on anything unusual. Good. Now it was just a matter of time and he had to successfully stall her until it took effect.

She turned and headed for the bed, stopped just short and perked her tight ass up at him as if she did this every night. "Honey," she said, wanting his full attention and getting it. "How do you want this? From behind, on the bottom or do you want the ever so popular top?"

Every ounce of living testosterone in his blood filed an official request for action, but his willpower fought his internal urges to take her right then and there. His body easily responded to her high level of natural beauty but his mind was currently in control and fighting it. He still had to give
something
, just not too much. "What?" he said with a large smile, shucked off his shirt and unlatched his belt. He bunched his biceps for her. "You don't want to play first?"

"Ah yes," she said, as if remembering a lesson from school. "That's right, foreplay. I've heard of that." She marched right up to him, then ran her hands over his chest, up his neck while he drew her close. She melted against him and her highly sensual body was like living electricity. Damn it, why did she have to be so sexy? He rubbed her back and she gave a happy purr.

Darya reached down the front of his pants and stroked him lightly and he buried his groan. She felt him stiffen quickly and was pleased she had this effect on him. Hell, she would have that effect on
any
man. He reached down and guided her hand back up and out and brought her knuckles to his lips. His other hand caressed the bottom of her breast, and she inhaled at the feeling this produced in her.

"Is this all?" she suddenly asked him.

"No," he told her, but had no intention of schooling her inexperience beyond a certain point. "There's this." He knew she thought he was going to kiss her, but his lips passed her exotic sweet face and landed where her neck and shoulder came together. His nibbling kiss started a slow climb up the side of her perfect throat, and her reaction of pleasure was making his body yell at him.
Damn that old fart
, his mind cursed the alchemist,
if she doesn't pass out pretty freaking soon then he ripped me off. I'll have to do something I don't want to do, as in strangle her before this goes too far
. He finished at her ear, nibbling the pointed tip ever so gently and she gasped in high pleasure. He regarded her sensual features and internally cursed. Her eyes were closed, mouth half open with the intense pleasure of his attentions.

Her eyes fluttered open after a half a minute went by and he smiled down into her dark gaze. "Well?" he said, encouragement in his best bedroom voice. "Is that what you expected foreplay to be?"

Darya nodded, then looked at him with even more dangerously sexy eyes than before. "There's even more, dear?" Her voice was slower, a little more slurred than normal.

"Yes, beautiful, much more," he replied heavily.
Aha! About damn time.
"I need you on the bed for this. Here, let me." He scooped her up and she clung to him, and he carried her onto the ultra comfortable large mattress. As he lowered her, she became energetic all of a sudden and grabbed him around the waist. Her tug was powerful and he was suddenly on top of her, but not positioned correctly for actual sex. She oozed happiness and her toned lovely leg straddled the side of his muscular thigh. His body screamed at him and his mind slapped the male response back. Her slender lap made a premature pulsing motion against his hip in want and he fought himself pretty hard for another moment or two.

He placed his lips on her mouth and they kissed, but her response was sluggish and slow, not the vibrant kiss she had given him the morning she won the race. Both of her hands sought his middle and her slender finger tips found the bulge, but they had no strength when she tried to stroke him again. Still, the feather light touch had a powerful effect. The chemistry she enticed was highly erotic and undeniable, but it was a man's ability to resist those urges that defined his character. Anyone else with less control would have screwed the living hell out of her on the spot without further hesitation.

Her breathing deepened and her lips lost their tenacity. He pulled back and looked down. A lovely angel of innocence now possessed her sleeping features, her beauty enhanced to a much higher degree because of it. While sleeping, the personality was hidden and buried and unable to alter the features with damning intent. This is what she would have looked like if evil had never touched her spirit and infused her decisions with personal greed to a horrible level. What a damned waste of absolute natural beauty.

The
listeners
might hear but they weren't allowed to see and it was time to deal with that issue. Ryan stood on the bed and started a very light bounce like some little kid getting away with mischief. He did that for about five minutes, then started to bounce harder and faster. He didn't say anything or make any verbal noise and was happy to let the imagination of the
listeners
fill in the blanks. Darya's sleeping form rocked back and forth from the weight of the bounce and nothing more. Then he picked up the pace and stomped the mattress for an entire hour. He finished with a rapid heaviness and was careful not to spill Darya off onto the floor. Then he stopped, went over and blew out all but one candle. The room almost went completely dark.

He covered the queen up with a blanket and he was suddenly assailed with a serious line of his own dark reasoning. One hand found the signed orders under the pillow while his other hand lightly rested over her beautiful throat. He felt her pulse and measured its strength. Good, it was steady. The drug was strong but it didn't feel like it would do any lasting harm. She would sleep for twelve hours if not longer, nobody dared to wake the queen when she wanted to sleep in.

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