The Charmer (22 page)

A rush of breath left her mouth. “I haven’t
had time…you’re asking for some serious things, Keilor.”

“I’m a serious man.”

She pushed him back and sat up, scrubbing her
face with her hands. “I didn’t know you were going to ask me this.”
She clasped her hands and rested her weight on her forearms, which
were propped on her knees. Staring at the floor, she said, “I’m not
sure I know you well enough.”

Keilor forced his muscles to relax. He’d
hoped to see this through tonight, but he had more mettle than she
did. He could out wait her.

Freeing one of her hands, he kissed it and
stood up. “As you wish. I can give you time.”

“Wait!” she called, as he turned away. She
stood up. “Let me walk you to the door.” They paused in front of
it, and he looked at her expectantly. She was blocking the
exit.

She shifted a little and then dropped her
eyes. “Goodnight,” she murmured.

“Goodnight,” he answered, wondering what else
she had to say. It must be something, or she would move.

She cleared her throat and muttered
something. Looking anywhere but at him, she said, “It’s customary
where I come from to end a date with a kiss.”

She didn’t see the wolfish grin, but she
couldn’t miss it when his arms slid around her. He pressed her up
against the door. Before she could draw another breath he was
inside her, kissing her mouth with a ruthless determination that
left no doubt in her mind just how much he wanted her. She moaned
when his thigh slid between her legs, and he didn’t care that her
guards could hear them. His hand slid down and cupped her bottom,
pulling her more firmly to him.

“Keilor!” she gasped and then bit his neck,
sucking with mindless need as he rubbed against her.

“Promise me forever,” he ordered her
savagely. This was almost more than he could take. “Give me the
right to stay.”

She pressed her forehead against his chest
and sobbed for breath.

In the end, she waited too long to
answer.

“What are you doing?”

Jasmine and Rihlia stopped practicing the
self-defense move they’d been working on and looked at Keilor. He
was back in uniform today and his bandaged biceps, and a few fading
nicks and bruises, showed clearly. Jayems was right beside him in
the empty courtyard. He looked grave.

“Practicing getting out of grabs,” Jasmine
answered and wiped her forehead. It was difficult to look him in
the eye after last night.

“Don’t go,” she’d begged, even as she’d
slowly allowed him to step back.

He’d closed his eyes and drawn his hands
away. “When you’re ready,” he’d promised, and she’d moved away,
disappointed, as he’d opened the door and left.

He was making a bad habit of that, she
thought. Bringing her attention back to the question at hand, she
said, “Before that we were doing kicks. Why?”

The late morning sunlight didn’t quite reach
the floor of their open air chamber, and cool shadows played across
his face. “Do you really believe it will help you?”

“It saved me from being raped once and robbed
twice,” Jasmine returned tartly. “Yeah, I think it will help.”

“Twice?” Rihlia demanded sharply. “When was
the second time?”

Jasmine waved her off.

Something painful flashed across Keilor’s
face. Jayems looked at him in sympathy and motioned for his wife to
follow him. Some things were better dealt with in privacy.

“I’m glad for that, then,” Keilor said,
coming closer. “But you aren’t dealing with humans, now. A Haunt
would literally tear you apart with his bare hands, Jasmine.” He
looked at her gravely. “I could rip your body open with nothing but
my hands.”

It was his quiet manner that disturbed her
the most. Keilor might be arrogant, but he never boasted. He didn’t
need to. She looked down at his hands. They looked ordinary enough,
but she’d seen him in action. She believed him.

Agitated, she freed her ponytail, swept the
loose strands back into place and twisted the band back around it.
“So what do you suggest? If I’ve learned anything over the years,
its bad guys don’t strike when the good guys are in shouting
distance. What am I supposed to do, let them hurt me without a
fight?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw.

She saw it, and wrapped her arms around
herself, sheltering her heart. “It’s not that I don’t think you’d
help me if you were there, but you can’t be there all the time,”
she persisted. She could tell he didn’t like it, but he was
listening. “I know I can’t match any of you physically. I’m not
stupid. Still, even you got caught by surprise when I punched you
in the nose that one time.”

He snorted, but she thought she saw a hint of
a smile. “Blind luck.”

“Maybe, but what if I’d done something more
deadly than just bloody your nose?” she argued. “What if I’d had a
knife? The point is, the fact that I seem so completely helpless
might just work in my favor.”

Keilor eyed her, attempting to distance
himself from the situation and think of her as a scrawny, stunted
cadet with a sharp mind and a healthy respect for her life. It was
true, she would never come close to matching a Haunt in battle. The
idea was completely ludicrous. However, when it came to sheer nerve
and craftiness...perhaps there might be something. First things
first, however.

Before she even knew she was in danger, he
had her by the throat. He did not hurt her, but he was not polite
about it, either. “You are dead,” he informed her grimly. “Your
neck is broken and you are dead. As long as you expect nothing
less, I can try to teach you something that might give you a few
more minutes against a Haunt, as long as you are very quick and
very sly. A minute might be long enough to let me reach you.
Someone else might save your life. The odds of you escaping more
than one man, unaided, are laughable. Do you understand?” She
nodded, and he released her.

Enveloping her in a crushing hug, he told
her, “I don’t want this.” He kissed her temple and rubbed his head
soothingly against her. “I will never leave you unguarded for a
second. I know you are brave, but my heart stops when I think of
you resisting an assassin, because I see the ending.” His voice
roughened. “But I won’t deny you your chance for revenge, and I
won’t force to you to remain ignorant if you truly wish to learn.”
He pulled back to gage her reaction. “This isn’t necessary. Are you
sure you wish to learn?” A touch of humor lit his eyes. “I’m known
as a critical teacher.”

“Hmpf.” She drew back and straightened her
scarlet tunic. “If you get too annoying I can always get Mathin or
Fallon to teach me. Or even Jayems.”

A crack of laughter escaped him. She had no
idea. “If you think any of them would be an easier master, you’re
in for a rude disappointment.” He drew her closer. “Besides, if you
think I’m going to allow another man so much access to you, you’re
sadly mistaken.” His voice lowered to a seductive purr. “I’m a very
possessive man.”

“Are you?” she breathed against his lips,
opening hers in invitation and sipping from his mouth.

“Are you ready to marry me?” he asked.

She drew back in frustration. “I like you
better when you don’t open your mouth.” Why did he keep doing this?
She knew what blue balls were, but what did they call it for a
woman?

His eyes glimmered. “You like my open
mouth.”

“Not when words are coming out,” she griped,
pulling away. Fine, if he was going to be difficult then they might
as well get down to business. “Show me how to use that,” she
ordered, pointing to his holstered gun.

Jasmine creaked into her room that night and
shut the door stiffly behind her. She eyed the bed and bath,
debating whether or not she could stay awake long enough to soak
away some soreness, or if it would be better to flop down on the
bed, sweat and all, and pray for oblivion. Reluctantly, she decided
on the bath.

He was trying to kill her, she thought as she
hobbled over. She sat down on the marble bath steps and plunked her
head down into her hands. All right, he probably wasn’t, but she
strongly suspected he was trying to drive her so hard that she’d
give up on learning self-defense all together. Only sheer
mulishness had kept her at it for the last half hour, and when her
legs had finally given out and dumped her on her butt, Keilor had
just raised an eyebrow and inquired if she were finished for the
day.

Sometimes she hated that man.

The only thing that consoled her, she thought
as she gingerly stripped off her shirt, was the knowledge that
she’d proven herself today. He now knew she meant business, and
he’d ease up and get on with it at a more reasonable pace. After
all, she wasn’t one of his grunts. And if he didn’t, she thought
with dour resolution, he’d be sorry.

“You’ll have to do better than that.”

Jasmine lowered the laser gun in her aching
arm and gave him a
look
. She knew how to use a gun, and she
was a good marksman. He hadn’t said a word the last five times
she’d nailed the impossibly small dot on the stone wall he’d
designated as her opponent’s heart. Her jaw worked and she said
tightly, “I hit the target.” One more patronizing, arrogant comment
out of his mouth, and she’d


Completely uninterested, he shrugged. The
movement caused muscles to ripple in his bare arms, but she barely
noticed, or told herself she didn’t. “If you’re satisfied with
merely nicking the center, instead of striking it dead on, then I
bow to your womanly judgment.” Boredom colored his every word and
it was all she could do not to slap his indifferent face.

The morning had been difficult, at best.
Keilor had run her through her paces with all the enthusiasm of one
indulging a pampered child. With each patronizing bit of praise, or
sigh of tolerance, her fury had uncoiled, and now it was barely
under control. Unfortunately, Keilor made the supremely stupid
mistake of treating even that with blasé disregard, which only
added gunpowder to the fire.

Cradling her pistol in one hand, she gently
tapped the black muzzle against her palm. Giving him an insincere
smile, she said sweetly, “Since I’m such a lousy shot, I guess it’s
a good thing you only gave me a practice gun, huh?” She eyed him
with malevolence. “Wouldn’t want me to miss and actually damage
anyone, would we?”

He smirked. “You aren’t...quite that bad.” He
squinted up at the sun. “After a time I may even allow you to
practice with a real weapon.” A short laugh escaped him. “Then we
will see if it will do you any good.”

She shot him.

Standing sideways, with her arm angled across
her stomach, she rotated the gun and shot the arrogant fool in his
solar plexus. Then she stood over him and gloated.

Haunt guards surrounded her immediately, and
she looked up with immense satisfaction and proffered the butt of
her pistol, inquiring, “Would any of you like to be holding the bag
when he wakes up?”

They checked.

“No?” She quirked a brow and holstered her
weapon. Arms crossed, she stared down at him as she waited for the
stun to wear off.

As the minutes ticked by, her temper cooled,
and she began to feel a touch uneasy. Pacing helped, but she
couldn’t keep from glancing at Keilor’s prone body and wondering
what he’d do when he woke up. Men weren’t very forgiving when it
came to public humiliation.

That fact that he’d trampled her pride in
front of witnesses wasn’t irrelevant, but it began to seem less and
less important as time dragged by.

“What is this?” A rough male voice demanded.
Mathin strode onto the practice field with long legged efficiency.
“Why have you left him there?” he demanded of the small gathering
of Haunt and one sullen human.

“He’s fine,” Jasmine said as he squatted down
to check for a pulse. “He’s just taking a little nap.”

Mathin’s look froze her blood.

“He was being a jerk,” she defended herself,
her eyes widening with indignation. Sheesh, it wasn’t
that
big a deal. Everyone was acting like she’d just robbed a bank.

“So you shot him in the back,” he said with
contempt.

She raised a brow and affected hauteur.
“Actually, he was facing me at the time.”

He stared at her, incredulous. “And you have
the gall to stand about waiting for him wake up?”

Huffing in exasperation, she answered, “I try
not to give into my cowardly instincts more than once a week.
Besides,” she jerked her chin in Keilor’s direction, “What’s he
going to do? Kill me?”

Mathin’s gaze was long and level. He glanced
back at Keilor. “This is one time when I would take advantage of
your supposed tender gender and depart, Lady Jasmine.” He stood and
dusted his hands. “I can distract him for a time until his temper
cools.”

She crossed her arms and stared at the
ground. Tempting as it was… “I would rather see this through,” she
said quietly, speaking her thoughts. “Seeing him at his worst is
preferable to imagining him at his worst, and I can assure you, I
have a vivid imagination. Besides, if we…” she trailed off,
embarrassed, and chose other words than what she’d intended. “It’s
better to learn to fight it out in a civilized fashion early on,
you know? Saves time later.” She looked at Keilor. “Presuming there
is a later.”

Chapter 19

Keilor’s eyes opened with a snap, and he was
on his feet before Jasmine had time to blink. With a snarl, he
yanked her down across his bent knee and spanked her three times.
When he was sure he had her attention, he pulled her to her feet
and shook her.

“
What in the name of all that’s holy did
you think you were doing
?” He shook her again, ignoring Mathin
and the others. In all his years
no one
, especially not
someone under his training, had ever dared to have such cheek. Had
she been a man he would have pulverized her, but since she was a
woman the best that he could do was blast her with words.