Joanna Wylde: Serendipity

"Yes," Mali piped up, looking excited. Able grunted, glaring at Jax. At least one of her children hadn't gone over to the enemy, Sarai thought dryly.

"Do you have enough for me to have a bowl?" Jax asked softly. The question seemed innocent enough, but his voice was dark and silky. It caressed her ears, reminding her of how he had sounded as he came into her that night.

"No," she said tightly, walking over to the table and setting down the bowls in front of the children. "Food isn't part of the arrangement here. I've told you that before. There are any number of places in town where you can find breakfast."

Jax simply smiled at her, and then sauntered across the kitchen to the table. She glared at him forbiddingly, but he ignored her. Coming up beside Mali, he swung one leg over the bench and straddled it next to the small girl.

"Good morning, Jax," Mali said brightly, carefully balancing her spoonful of cereal and blowing on it. "Would you like some of my breakfast? Mommy always gives me too much."

"No thank you, sweetheart," Jax said, catching Sarai's eye. "I'll get something later.

You'll need all your food so you have energy to play today, and do your studies."

Mali nodded, stuffing the spoon in her mouth. Sarai pursed her lips. She'd already asked him several times not to come into the kitchen, but she didn't want to make a scene in front of the children. They'd been through enough without having to watch that. Instead, she filled her own bowl and turned to the table. Jax watched her as Mali chattered on about her plans for the day. Able glared.

"Are you done with your food?" she asked finally, and the two small blond heads nodded in unison. "Put your bowls in the sink, and go on outside."

Mali hopped up and carried her bowl to the sink. Able followed more slowly, watching them carefully.

"It's all right, son," Sarai said, giving him as open a smile as she could manage. "You go on and play with your sister. It'll be time for your lessons before long."

"All right," he muttered, and stomped out the back door behind Mali. Silence fell over the kitchen.

"Mali tells me you had to carry pails of water for the vegetables yesterday afternoon,"

Jax said in a smooth, drawling voice. "She told me the water wasn't working right. Do you know what's wrong with it?"

"No," Sarai said tightly.

"Have you called anyone to fix it yet?" Jax asked, watching her face carefully.

"No," she replied, refusing to meet his gaze. "I don't want to spend the money right now."

"I can take a look at it if you like," Jax said lightly.

"And what would a soldier know about irrigation?" Sarai said sharply.

"Well, I wasn't born a soldier," Jax replied calmly. "I was born on a farm, and I used to work on the irrigation equipment with my father. They have farms in Saurellia, you know.

Even soldiers have to eat."

Sarai was startled. She'd never thought of Saurellians as farmers. They were soldiers, conquerors. They came and took things; they fought the Empire. They didn't fix broken pipes.

"Well, I can't stop you," she said, standing abruptly. She scooped up her plate and turned away from him. "But I don't want you bothering me here. You need to leave."

"Sarai," Jax said quietly. "You can't just brush me off forever. I'm not going away.

Why won't you at least give me a chance?"

"I don't want you in my life," she said tightly. "I don't want any man in my life."

Jax came up behind her. She couldn't hear him move, but she could sense his presence with every fiber of her being. She tried to look relaxed, but she felt like screaming. She was trapped, she couldn't move.

"I'm already here," he replied, all but whispering in her ear. "I'm not leaving. We can't just leave this thing between us unfinished."

She whirled to face him, startled by how close he was. His chest was just inches from her face. His shirt was open just a bit at the neck, and a few dark hairs from his chest caught her attention. They were coarse and curly. She already knew what they felt like. They had been wiry against her hands that night.

She could smell him, too. He smelled a little like the soap she kept in each of the hostel's rooms, and a little like himself. Jax. She took a deep breath, hoping to calm herself.

Instead she inhaled more of his scent. A thrill at his presence ran through her body. She could feel herself starting to tremble. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and stared straight into his eyes.

"You have no idea what I've been through in my life," she said. "I'm free now, and so are my children. We've lived under a man's control before. I won't go back to that. Ever."

Jax reached one hand up, lightly brushing her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

"I don't want to control you," he whispered. He leaned over and brushed a kiss against her ear. "I want to make love to you, and be with you. Nothing more than that."

She held herself still, longing to lean into him.

"Give me a chance," Jax continued. "And I'll prove it to you. I don't expect you to accept anything on faith."

Sarai closed her eyes tightly. He was too intense, too much. She wanted to touch him, feel the smooth silk of his skin under her fingertips, the wiry hair of his chest. What had he said? Give him a chance? She had to get rid of him somehow. Maybe she could use his own words against him, she thought desperately.

"You want a chance?" she said, opening her eyes. His face was only inches from hers, his gaze focused on her mouth. He licked his lips, and something inside her clenched. If she leaned forward even the slightest bit, they would be touching. "If I give you a chance, will you go away?"

A stillness came over Jax.

"Yes," he said slowly.

"I'll give you a week," Sarai said nervously. She could feel tension radiating from him.

He was like wild predator, one who wanted to devour her.

"A week isn't enough," Jax replied softly. "I want a month. And during that month you have to let me touch you."

"No," she said quickly. She already knew how dangerous his touch could be.

"Yes," he replied firmly. "You want me to promise to leave you? Well, I'll leave if after a month you still want me to. But you have to let me touch you whenever I want. And I want to sleep in your room."

"I won't have sex with you," she said in panic. "I won't ever have sex with another man unless it's my choice. I won't give you that kind of power over me."

"I didn't say you had to have sex with me," he replied smoothly. His eyes were intense, compelling. His fingers brushed her cheek again; it was impossible to think. How did he do it? How did he make her melt like this?

"If you don't want to make the deal, I can't force you," he continued. "But it's the only way you're going to get rid of me. What do you say?"

"Two weeks," she said desperately. "A month is too long."

"Three weeks," he whispered. His lips brushed against hers, his body pressed her back against the counter. She could feel the entire length of him. His frame was hard with muscles, and against her belly an unmistakable bulge jutted.

Against her will, her hands rose to grip his waist. She wanted him to pull her against him, to lift her up onto the counter and thrust into her. She took a deep breath.

"Three weeks," she whispered. Could she last that long? She would have to. She had seen his determination; this might be her best chance to get rid of him.

He groaned as she agreed, his mouth taking hers in a kiss unlike any she'd ever experienced. His lips were rough, commanding her to open to the onslaught of his tongue.

His arms came around her like bands of iron, molding her to him even as one leg thrust between hers.

He thrust into her mouth like a marauder, a warrior, and she let her head fall back under his strength. He plumbed her depths, thrusting again and again even as his lower body ground slowly against her pelvis. She could feel her nipples tightening, and moist heat built between her legs. How was she going to survive three weeks with this man? She couldn't even survive three minutes!