The Stone Prince Page 7

  His hands tightened into fists. These rules were going to be the death of him. "You cannot add rules at your convenience, woman."

  "I can and I will. I'm in charge here."

  "That is debatable."

  "No, it isn't."

  She glared up at him.

  He glared in return. "I have decided to hear this new rule. You may speak."

  Katie absolutely did not like him when he used that I-am-male-therefore-I-decide-the-fate-of-the-world tone. She obeyed anyway and spoke. "Rule number four: no sharing beds."

  Surprisingly, he didn't balk. Instead, he crossed his arms over his bronzed chest and said, "My adjustment to this rule is simple. I will not share your bed, but I will slumber in your room. And if this is not agreeable, I will simply knock down your door and share your bed without your permission."

  Argh! Far from being frightened by his threat, or even intimidated, Katie was infuriated--and just a bit aroused. "I'm not comfortable sharing a room with you."

  "Nevertheless, you will." He arched a dark brow in challenge. "Or are you afraid of your reactions to me?"

  Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits, and she stared at him, unflinching. "I'm not afraid of anything."

  "Then why not allow me inside your chamber?"

  "Because I don't trust you to stay on the floor!"

  His shoulders puffed with indignation. "I have given you my word."

  "Well, I want a blood oath."

  Scowling, he ground out, "I vow to you here and now that I will not join you under the bedcovers this night. That does not mean you cannot join me on the floor."

  Why did he have to go and put such an idea into her head? She pointed a finger at his chest. "Do you swear by all that is holy that you won't try anything?"

  His nostrils flared, but his tone was quiet. Too quiet. "This I have already answered."

  No, he hadn't. Not really. He'd promised only to stay on the floor. An image of his glorious body splayed out on her bedroom carpet filled her mind. Would she feel his heat? Hear the soft whoosh of his breath? Smell the clean scent of his skin?

  She had lied to him a moment ago. She was afraid of her reactions to him. Very afraid. But despite her fear, she was going to let him stay in her room. Lord, she was. She was going to let him stay in her room.

  Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, her brother Erik always said. Jorlan might not be her enemy, but he was damn sure on his way up her hit list. The man wouldn't climb into her bed, but he'd issued a brilliantly orchestrated invitation: Join me.

  If he thought for one minute she was giving in to that invitation, he'd soon find out that his erection was the last thing on her mind. Well, almost the last. Okay, she couldn't stop thinking about the damn thing. It was huge.

  I'm an idiot, she thought. "Just in case you get any ideas, know that I'll be sleeping with a can of Mace in one hand and pepper spray in the other."

  His expression turned mocking. "Just in case you get any ideas, know that I'll be sleeping with a feather in one hand and massage oil in the other."

  With those words ringing in her ears, Katie knew she wasn't going to get much sleep. She massaged her temples in a vain effort to ward off the oncoming ache.

  I'm in more trouble than I realized.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "I'M IMAGINING EVERYTHING I long to do to you, katya. Are you imagining what you long to do to me?"

  Oh, yes. Yes, she most definitely was imagining.

  "In my mind I see my hands cupping your breasts and gently squeezing while my tongue lightly traces a path from one waiting nipple to the other."

  As it had for the past hour, Jorlan's husky voice slid like a rasp of silk, low, sleek and honeyed, touching Katie in the darkness, leaving a sultry haven in its wake. Toasty warm, she lay in bed, a thick, downy comforter covering her. But it was the man sprawled on her floor that was responsible for her overheated blood, not her covers.

  Katie tried to recall why she was so determined to resist him. She did have reasons, right? She just didn't know anymore, and she wasn't sure how much more she could take before she locked caution inside her panty drawer and caved. Jorlan's passionate assault, which had begun long before he'd ever spoken to her, was quickly eradicating all of her defenses.

  "Would you like to feel the heat of my tongue?"

  To keep herself from blurting out YES!, she pursed her lips together so tightly she probably incurred permanent wrinkles. Why had she let Jorlan inside her room, anyway? And why for the love of God was she still in bed and not on the floor with him?

  "Your back arches, a silent plea for my touch between your legs," he continued mercilessly. "But I do not touch you there with my fingers. Nay, I kiss my way down your stomach and taste you with my mouth, letting my tongue flick left and right, then circle around, creating a hot, wet friction."

  "You promised you wouldn't try anything!"

  "I never promised I wouldn't speak or imagine. And what I'm imagining right now is so very naughty. You're lying--"

  Dropping her can of Mace and pepper spray onto the mattress--which, in actuality, were a can of hairspray and a water bottle--she placed her palms over her ears, muffling his voice. She began snoring like an old man with a foghorn stuck in his throat. All the while she pictured bathroom tile and drying grout--anything to keep her mind from thinking about naked bodies and potent pleasures.

  You never give me what I want, her body complained, and I want Jorlan.

  Shut up, her mind demanded. You've gotten us in enough trouble!

  Tile. Grout. Tile. Grout. With Jorlan's voice blocked and her mind picturing drying tile grout, slowly, so slowly, her overly sensitized nerves calmed. The tingles of anticipation faded. When she felt enough time had lapsed, she let her snores taper off and removed her hands from her ears.

  Blessed silence greeted her.

  Then, as if he was acutely attuned to her every action, every feeling, every thought, Jorlan said, "Just say the words, katya. Say the words and I will give us both release."

  "I'll say the words, all right." Her nails dug deeply into the sides of her legs, leaving half moon crescents. "I'll say shut up or get out. Please! We have to get up early, and it's two in the morning already. After I take you to the psychic, I have to go to work. I need to rest."

  Five. Ten. Fifteen minutes passed. He didn't speak again. She didn't even hear him breathe.

  In the mounting silence, Katie's eyelids began to grow heavy. She gripped her hairspray once again, ready to leap off the bed and whack him over the head with it if he so much as whistled through his nose. After a while, her grip relaxed, and she rolled to her side. The last thought to drift through her mind before she ultimately succumbed to darkness was That man needs a muzzle, and I need a bare-assed spanking for letting him in here.

  MORNING DAWNED bright and early. "Way too early," Katie muttered. Then she groaned. Her eyes burned, and her head throbbed. She needed a protein shake or she would soon sink into a take-me-to-the-hospital-for-a-caffeine-IV coma.

  Normally she jogged five miles a morning. Today, however, she was going to make an exception. At the moment, she couldn't have jogged to the bathroom if her bladder depended on it.

  The sheets and blankets were tangled around her like a butterfly's cocoon. She grumbled under her breath as she battled her way free. Something thudded to the floor, but it wasn't a protein shake, so she didn't bend down to retrieve it. Rubbing her eyes, she stumbled into the bathroom.

  She washed her face then brushed her teeth and hair. The features that looked at her from the mirror were glazed with...something. Tired. Very tired. Hoping hot, steamy water would help, she climbed into the shower. When she emerged, she tugged on her robe, feeling less groggy, but still craving a sweet fruity shake. Once her veins ran with enough B-12 to energize the retirees at Shady Meadows, she would be alert enough to deal with Jorlan.

  Jorlan!

  Katie's eyes widened with dismay. How could she have forgotten about the sexy, six
-foot-six-inch alien sleeping in her room? Heart pounding, white terry-cloth robe flying, she darted out of the bathroom; her gaze scanned the floor, but she saw only a can of hairspray.

  Jorlan was gone.

  The only reminder of his presence was the rumpled pillow and blanket tangled together in a heap at the foot of her bed. She grabbed some clothes from the closet and hastily pulled them on as she raced out of the room. She'd barely managed to zip her jeans when she stepped into the living room. No sign of her alien.

  What if the mother ship had beamed him up? Worse, what if he was still here, in her house, going through her things? Katie's stomach knotted as she envisioned laundry strewn across the floor and broken knickknacks scattered about. Through the dining room she went, as if hot coals simmered under her feet.

  Then she saw him.

  He stood in the kitchen, humming a song she didn't recognize. His back was to her as he rifled through the contents of her fridge. A sigh of relief pushed past her lips when she noticed he was wearing the clothes she'd given him last night. Except now the shirt looked lumpy, and the pants were hanging low on his waist, teasing her, tantalizing her, because a slight brush of air might slip them to the floor....

  It was dangerous to become so enflamed at the mere sight of him. Yet she didn't know how to temper her reaction.

  Katie cleared her throat.

  In one fluid motion, Jorlan whipped around and unsheathed a knife strapped to his ankle, ready to strike. The action so startled her, she could only blink up at him, unable to run, much less breathe. He stood there with the deadly aura of a man who knew exactly how to fight, how to kill and maim, each of his actions as terrifying as the weapon itself. When he realized who she was, he relaxed his stance and returned the blade to its makeshift holder. Even though the knife was now hidden, her heartbeat didn't slow. No one should be able to move that fast or that lethally.

  "Good dawning, katya." He gave her a half grin that erased the hard lines of her mouth. "Sleep well?"

  "No. I didn't." She chewed on her bottom lip, still staring at the sheathed blade. "What are you doing with that knife?"

  "I was in need of a weapon."

  "Why?"

  With a negligent shrug, he turned back to the refrigerator. "'Tis of no concern to you."

  "It is when you're wearing my weapon."

  "If you must know, it is for my protection. If--" he faced her again, this time shooting her a narrowed glance as if everything depended on her "--if I travel to Imperia this day, I must be prepared ere my enemies come upon me."

  He'd said before that he was going home after she took him to the psychic, but she hadn't really considered how far away that was until this moment. For a reason she didn't understand, the thought of his leaving Earth suddenly saddened her. She wanted him gone, of course, just not light-years away.

  What was his rush to return, anyway? Did he have a family--translation: a wife and children--that were awaiting his presence? Katie almost uttered a string of the foulest words she knew. Here she was, lusting for Jorlan, sad that he was leaving, and he could very well be married.

  She wasn't going to ask him, though. They didn't have any type of relationship, and as he liked to point out, it wasn't any of her business.

  "Are you married?" Damn it! The question emerged before she could stop it. The man had tried to seduce her, after all.

  "Married is life-joined, aye?"

  "Aye. I mean yes."

  "Then nay." He suddenly looked offended. "I would not have touched you otherwise."

  "Oh." I'm not relieved, she thought, curls of an emotion she didn't want to name floating through her bloodstream. I'm simply happy the man has some morals. "So you're really going all the way home?"

  "Only if we find a true mystic and only if--" He stopped and looked away.

  "What? Only if I bed you?"

  "Nay. Only if you fall in love with me," he answered flatly.

  She blinked. "I don't understand."

  "'Tis part of the curse. You freed me. Now you must freely and truly offer me your love or I will be returned to stone. Forever, this time."

  "You're kidding me, right? Trying to get me into bed again?" She laughed, the sound weak and unsure.

  "Do you truly think I would tease you about my freedom?" The absolute conviction in his voice rang loud and clear.

  "No," she said softly. "I guess you wouldn't."

  "My brother planned for another to kiss me--a woman I despised. He thought 'twould be amusing were I forced to pursue a woman I so loathed. But 'twas you, you and not she, who became my savior." Jorlan pushed out a breath. "'Twas not my plan to tell you all of this, katya. Yet you are being so stubborn, I felt there was no other way. Can you try, at least, to help me?"

  "I don't know how to answer that." The enormity of the situation hit her like the weight of a jackhammer. Jorlan's fate rested with her. Good God. He might as well have asked her to weave her hair into fourteen-karat gold. "I mean, if I told you I loved you, it would be a lie."

  "This I know, but I can make you love me." He took a step toward her. "Just give me a chance and I will give your body untold pleasure."

  "How would that make me fall for you?"

  "Bodily pleasure often leads to love for a woman."

  For the briefest moment, Katie hesitated. Oh, she didn't doubt his claim, and if anything, that was what scared her the most. "If I said yes and ended up giving you my heart, would you stay here with me? Even for a little while?"

  He gave one stiff shake of his head. "Nay."

  She uttered a shaky laugh devoid of humor. "You're asking for a lot from me, but giving little in return."

  "This I know, as well." While he sounded properly apologetic, he didn't offer a single concession. "I can make the pleasure worth it."

  Lord, what was she going to do? She couldn't tell him no; she'd ruin his life. She couldn't tell him yes; she'd ruin her life. "You'll have to give me time to think about this."

  He frowned. "Time is my enemy."

  "Well, it's all I'm offering right now. Take it or leave it."

  He drew out a long breath. "I will take it."

  They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

  "You know," she finally said to cover the mounting tension, "you're going to need a little bit of magic to sharpen that knife you stole from me." This line of conversation seemed safe enough. "It's used for cooking, not killing."

  "It was not used for killing before."

  Great. Just freaking great.

  "I have commandeered other weapons from your household, as well," he added. As if he were speaking about something as tame as bunny slippers, he nonchalantly turned back to the fridge.

  Dread slithered down her spine, chilling and oppressive. The morning had started off badly and was now progressively growing worse. "Want to tell me exactly what else you've commandeered?"

  He'd found an old pair of Gray's shoes, she saw as he showed her the pair of scissors strapped to his left ankle, the knife on his right ankle, the metal spatula at his hip and the rolling pin at his back, anchored by the waist of his pants.

  "What are you going to do with that?" She motioned to the rolling pin with a wave of her hand.

  "Do the talons fail me, I will strike my enemy into submission."

  "And the spatula?"

  "I am not sure, but surely such a design is intended for severe torture."

  Torture was right. "You can't just go around killing and torturing people, no matter what planet you're on." She said the words with enough force to let him know she meant business. "Put everything back right now."

  "Nay." A hard glint darkened his eyes, and he shook his head. "In this I will not relent. When entering an unknown situation, a man must be prepared for the worst."

  He's right, Katie thought, but she would never make such an admission aloud. Being prepared for the worst was the first lesson in self-defense. Yet none of her classes had mentioned defeating an attacker with a spatula. A pencil, may
be. Even keys.

  Really, though, what harm was there in letting him have some of the "weapons"? She never used them, anyway. And if they made him feel safer, well, that was all that mattered. She couldn't fathom being stuck on another world, alone and destitute.

  "Why don't we compromise?" she suggested. "You can keep the scissors and the spatula--" and look like an idiot, she silently added "--but the knives and rolling pin stay here."

  Silence filled the room as he considered her proposal.

  Finally, he nodded. "I accept your compromise. Do you not see how reasonable and willing to negotiate I am?"

  "Yeah, you're a regular kiss-ass." His face brightened, and she added, "You're not getting a quarter, nor are you kissing my...Well, you're just not!"

  His eyes twinkled with mirth, making the pale blue irises sparkle like diamonds in the night sky. "I will not take you to task for your impertinence--unless, of course, you desire punishment in bed. There is still time ere we visit the sorcerer."

  She rolled her eyes, trying to appear cool and unaffected on the outside. On the inside, however, her body was screaming hip, hip hooray, there's still time. "Make sure the weapons are hidden when we leave the house, okay?"

  "I am not an untrained youth." His mirth was quickly replaced with ire. "I know weapons must remain concealed when not engaged in battle."

  O-kay. With every word he'd spoken, his irritation had grown. Right now he looked ready to attack her with the knives for daring to insult his intelligence. Time to change the subject. "Did you find anything good to eat?"

  "Nay." His expression lost most of its heat. "You did not show me how to prepare this." He held up a Tupperware bowl filled with pasta. A thin layer of mayonnaise and cheese coated the surface.

  Ew, she thought. He'd tried to make a sandwich out of it.

  "'Tis unseasoned and tasteless and hard and quite the worst morsel I have ever eaten."

  Katie noticed several bite marks around the corners of the bowl. Laughter threatened to bubble past her throat, but she swallowed it back. "That's the container, silly. The real food is inside." She pried the bowl from his fingers. The action caused her palm to brush his, sending a jolt of electricity up her arm. Shaky now, she set the plastic aside. "You don't want what's inside that for breakfast, anyway."