The Scarlet Empress (17 page)

He brought a hand to her forehead to check for fever. She closed her eyes to savor the touch; she couldn’t help it. His hand slid to her cheek and stopped there.

She leaned into his warm palm and felt him hesitate. Did he finally comprehend his effect on her?

Now he’d probably withdraw his hand and inform her in a medically businesslike way that she wasn’t, in fact, running a fever.

He didn’t.

His fingers slid under her jaw, putting gentle pressure there until she tipped up her chin and opened her eyes. He leaned over her, his lips hovering inches from hers, his face shadowed. She helped close the distance by lifting her chin a fraction more.

His mouth was a breath away now, so close now that she could almost taste him, could almost feel the softness of his lips, the scrape of his beard, almost invisible in the swirls of the tattoo. He slid his fingers into her hair. His
breath whispered against the corner of her mouth. She sighed, her body reacting instantly with an explosion of tingles. “Nazeem,” she murmured.

“Nazeem?” His mouth gave a very unhappy twist. He pushed up on his arms. “No, it’s Kublai. But I can summon Nazeem to take my place if you like.”

“You idiot,” she whispered. “I was going to ask if he was asleep, so when I kissed you I’d know he wasn’t watching.”

“When you kissed me . . .” Kublai looked stunned.

“Um. Isn’t that what we were fixing to do?”

He sat back on his haunches and shoved a hand through his hair. “What was
I
thinking?”

“I wouldn’t speak for knowing your mind, but it sure as sugar looked like what
I
was thinking.”

He spread a hand as if about to explain, then dropped it.

“Kublai . . . with nothing to say?” she teased. “I don’t believe it.” She propped herself up on an elbow. “Let me guess. Your job description forbids fraternization with the bounty.”

“That’s it.” For a second she thought he was going to snap his fingers. “Prince Kyber forbids any interaction between us. He . . . ah . . . he doesn’t want it.”

She lifted her brows. “He micromanages to that extent—who rides on your horse, and whom you kiss?”

“Such as it is.” To Kublai’s credit, he looked very unhappy about the situation.

“Massages are okay, though.”

“Why, of course—if needed for the continued good health of the bounty.”

“Why do I have the feeling you made that rule up?”

A corner of his mouth lifted in a wry twist. “Because already you know me better than most.”

“Not nearly as well as I’d like,” she countered in a quiet voice.

He reached down and smoothed her hair away from her upturned face, stroking her, his large hand surprisingly smooth. “You always say what you think. . . .”

“You don’t, though.”

His smile turned rueful. “It’s complicated.”

“You’re married?”

“No.” He frowned. “God, no.”

Well, his thoughts on matrimony couldn’t have been clearer, she thought with an inner smirk. “It’s just complicated, though.”

“Yes.”

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. “It’s always complicated. Everyone likes to say that, but I don’t buy it. You open your mouth and words come out—what’s so complicated about that?”

“Lie down, Cam.”

“Don’t get my hopes up again, you tease.”

At that he tossed his head back and let out a delighted laugh. It was contagious. When they’d quieted to chuckles, Kublai pointed to her bedroll imperiously, as if he were a king. “Lie down.”

“Only if you join me.”

“That’s the entire point.”

She flashed a victorious smile and stretched out on the sleeping mat. She realized how drained her body was when she barely had the strength to roll onto her side.

Kublai settled next to her before she had the chance to grow cold. He moved close behind her, laying a heavy arm over her hips. She inched her butt backward until she’d made solid contact. Even with leather serving as a
barrier, he couldn’t hide the fact that he was every bit as affected by her as she was by him. A delicious shiver coursed through her as he began to rub the back of her neck, working his way ever so slowly down to the hem of her shirt, where he slipped his hand under the garment, pressing and kneading over the fabric of her computercontrolled underclothes.

“Feel good, pretty one?” His breath felt hot against her ear.

“Mmm. Very.”

It didn’t take long for fatigue to overwhelm her.

Kublai’s touch became lighter and lighter. Then, just as she drifted off, she felt the press of his lips to the top of her head.

He’d kissed her! But he’d waited until he thought she was asleep. Well, she wouldn’t ruin it for him by revealing she’d noticed.

I do believe he likes you.
That small kiss proved that Kublai’s on-again-off-again behavior had nothing to do with Prince Kyber, and everything to do with his confusion about her. Growing up in a house full of men, she’d learned a few things along the way. Kublai displayed all the symptoms of “like”—the mood swings, the cold shoulder immediately after reaching a level of intimacy that violated his comfort level, the inordinate amount of time spent looking at her mouth.

Would she see him again after they reached the capital?

Kublai, she had the feeling, would say no. He’d make up some convenient rule.

If he did, she’d figure out a way around it.

Never underestimate Cameron Tucker
. It was her last thought before sheer exhaustion swept her away.

The next morning it was time to make the switch from horseback to something called a magcar. Soon after dawn, they broke through the woods near the road it used: a furrow lined with silver coils.

Kublai jumped down from the horse first. As always, he caught Cam around the waist and lowered her to the ground. Their eyes met, held.
Last night was great,
she tried to tell him without speaking. The massage was on the surface a simple act, yet one that somehow had felt like a prelude to something more, something better. Maybe she would have found out if she hadn’t fallen asleep.

If you hadn’t tucked me in my bedroll before going off to sleep in your own bed, gentleman that you are, Kublai.

He averted his gaze and briskly moved her out of his way.

Arms folded over her chest, she watched him stalk off to Nazeem. He hadn’t said more than a couple of syllables to her all morning. It was the “morning after” syndrome, except, technically, it wasn’t really an “after.” Nothing had happened.
Damn it.

“Hurry along, Cam. We don’t want you lost in the woods after three days of riding.” Nazeem’s voice jerked her out of her thoughts. Waiting for her to catch up, he smiled kindly before joining Kublai, who had just taken down the nanoshield: high-tech, computer-generated masking device that had camouflaged the Rim Riders’ sleek, gunmetal-gray vehicle.

“Wow,” she murmured. “That’s some hotshot car.”

All business, Kublai said, “It will get us where we need to go.”

“I’m sure it will,” she replied under her breath. It was yet another reminder that the journey was almost over. He was back to being the bounty hunter, and she was back to being the fugitive the king had demanded.

Something plunked onto Cam’s head, then her shoulder. She lifted her face to the sky. Cold drops stung her face.

The rain that had held off all day was finally coming down. By the time she approached the magcar, raindrops pattered loudly on the tall, dry grass and scrub and the vehicle’s hood.

“Open,” Kublai said. The doors slid back, revealing a dark interior. “Inside you’ll be dry,” he advised.

“Sure. Thanks.” She settled down into a rear passenger seat. There were seat belts and a dashboard. Overhead lights. It was hard not to be homesick; there was more reminding her of her world in this one vehicle than there’d been on the entire farm in Mongolia. Would she feel the same way about Beijing?

After helping Nazeem stow the horses in a separate rear compartment, Kublai took his place in the driver’s seat and started the magcar. They lurched forward, bumping over the ground to the furrow she’d seen. The gleaming coils were now glowing.

“Arrays of permanent magnets,” Kublai explained without her having to ask. He always sensed what she was going to say before she said it. “Once on the track, all the magcar has to do is move forward to achieve levitation.”

“Levitation?”
Cool.
Cam leaned forward in her seat. The vehicle slid into the furrow with a solid click and rolled over the coils. When it reached the speed of a fast walk, Kublai said, “Here we go,” and the magcar surged forward.

The acceleration was incredible, and that was speaking from the viewpoint of an F-16 pilot. Next Cam heard the wheels retract. They weren’t riding on the track anymore, but were flying inches above it.

Flying cars. Magical computers. Now, this was the future of
The Jetsons
that she’d always imagined.

The scenery was a blur. Her hands opened and closed restlessly. “Can I have a try? “I may not be able to walk very well, but I bet I can drive just fine.”

That broke Kublai’s stone-faced silence. “No.”

“Please,” she wheedled.

His mouth moved in a way that told her he was trying hard not to laugh at the sight of her hands pressed together. “You do not know the way.”

“So it’s not that I’ve never driven a magcar before; it’s that I don’t know what route to take.”

“Correct.”

She supposed she could swallow that.

They traveled the rest of the way in silence, Cam with her attention riveted outside. Soon the countryside gave way to larger towns and then cities with soaring buildings sporting walls that changed colors and even shapes.

“You look astonished, Cam.”

At the sound of Kublai’s mellow baritone, Cam blinked and sat back in her seat for the first time in what felt like hours. “You sleep for a hundred and seventy years and things change. I hate to ask it, but are we there yet?”

“We’re at the outskirts of the capital.”

The faces of the buildings changed in a never-ending show. “Look at that. Giant moving billboards. It’s incredible, this place.”

Kublai made a sound of approval. “The prince does a fine job of urban planning, does he not?”

Nazeem answered with a faint snort. Cam glanced from one man to the other. There was always a curious undercurrent flowing between the two. More often than not, she felt as if most of it flew right over her head.

She sat back in her seat and took in the sheer immensity of the Beijing suburbs, if that was what one called this urban sprawl. “It’s frustrating knowing Bree’s not here, and that wherever she is, she’s wasting her time looking for me. I’ve got to get the prince to help me. He saw her alive. He’ll have an idea where she may have gone. Better than us, anyway.”

Kublai’s hands tightened on the steering stick.

“As soon as we arrive, I’ll request an audience with him.”

“Good luck,” Kublai muttered.

She frowned at that. “I’m going to find her, Kublai.”

“You’ve been given a new life here. A good life.”

“Bree’s all I have left from my world. She’s my best friend. It’s going to take a lot more than this to get me to give up. I’ll talk to the prince.”

“The prince has more important things to occupy his time.”

“Is that what you’d like to hear Nazeem say to someone if you were missing? Would you give up that fast if it were Nazeem who were lost? Why are you discouraging me?”

“Why? You ask me why?” he growled as he drove. “Because the immoral, imperialist scum in the UCE think you belong to them. Because they’ll do most anything to get you back within their borders. And because
too many are willing to use you for nothing more than their own selfish gain.”

Kublai turned to her. His black eyes were hot with anguish, a level of emotion she hadn’t expected. “Because if your search takes you outside the capital, you’ll be captured or killed. It’s not a matter of how, but when.”

In two heartbeats his stare had drained her.

No one said anything as they approached the city gates, where two huge-beyond-belief gold statues stood guard.

A soft glow moved over their vehicle, analyzing it before moving on to the next, then the one after. A security check, unobtrusive and efficient, according to Kublai.

The gold statues towered over the magcars. “The first king and queen,” said Nazeem, seeming relieved at the chance to distract them all with an impromptu travelogue of the grand city unfolding in front of them.

And Cam listened to him. Listened hard. Kublai’s reaction had put everything back in sharp focus. Her mission? To find out where her flight leader had disappeared to.

Bree had been in the palace; that was a starting point. Now it was up to her to find out the rest. Bree wouldn’t just run away. There was more to the story. Come hell or high water, Cam was going to find out what had occurred.

First on the checklist? Learn as much as possible about the palace and the people who lived in it—including their purportedly flesh-eating Prince Kyber.

Late-morning sunshine tried to work its way through the clouds. Puddles from the recent rain filled the cracks between ancient flagstones in a courtyard where the delivery was made at long last. Three pairs of boots splashed through the water as Kyber, Nikolai, and Cam strode toward waiting palace officials.

And all of them were keeping Cam far from the eyes of the prince, Kyber thought, fighting to keep his personal feelings on the matter from clouding his better judgment.

He had to hand her over. He had no choice but to avoid her now and in the days to come.

Not only was his mission over, with Cam brought to safety, but she’d seeped into the cracks in his armor as no woman yet had. Perhaps that was the biggest reason he didn’t want to have her near him. She had a way of causing him to let down his guard. He wasn’t sure what he thought of that effect, only that he preferred not to think of it at all. In fact, the moment he stepped into the
palace, he’d bury himself in work, which had long been a solution to unwanted distractions.

Minister of Realm Affairs Horace Hong stepped to the head of the welcoming party. He was the highest ranking of the ministers, and the only one who knew the Rim Riders’ true identities.