Gena Showalter - Gena Showalter Bundle - The Stone Prince / The Pleasure Slave / Heart of the Dragon

“’Tis my home,” he said simply. Then shrugged again. “In Imperia, I may not be a great-lord, but I am a man of consequence, a warrior of great ability and power. Here I am only a man who must rely on a woman to see to my needs.”

Yes, she could see how that would eat away at his pride.

Stretching out her long legs, Katie leaned back against the wall. Cool tile seeped through the thin material of her shirt. She felt as though there was something she was forgetting, something she wanted to tell him. When she realized what it was, her eyes widened, and she silently cursed herself for getting so caught up in his story of kings and princes that she hadn’t said these words sooner. “I’m so sorry about your father’s death.”

He nodded to acknowledge her empathy.

“How did he die?” she asked gently.

Jorlan propped his elbow on his bent knee and hesitated only a moment before answering. “He was murdered. I commissioned several sorcerers to aid me in my search for the culprit, yet no one was able to divine the truth.”

“Were there any suspects?”

“Many believed my half brother responsible, but Percen did not have the strength to rise from bed that eve, much less thrust a talon into a man’s chest.”

“How do you know?” She tried to keep her tone light and easy, not wanting him to see how sad she was for him, how she longed to wrap her arms around his neck and take all of his past pain away. “Your brother could have been faking his injury to give himself an alibi.”

“’Tis not a possibility. He was recovering from a talon wound. A wound I inflicted.”

His words elicited images of blood and war, a side of Jorlan she knew existed but didn’t want to contemplate. She preferred instead to think of him as the charming, sexy man before her. A man who was a prince and should have been king. “If you had decided to challenge your uncle for the crown, could you have done it?”

“Why?” His gaze grew cold, like pools of ice in the winter. “Do you have hopes that I will take you back with me and make you my queen?”

“No,” she assured him, a little offended that he thought so little of her. “I’m curious, is all. Your mother was—is—a sorceress, yet her bloodline didn’t prevent her from becoming queen.”

The coldness remained in his eyes, but it was no longer directed at Katie. He seemed lost in his memories. “My mother was never truly accepted. Her sovereignty and the authority it brings were ignored.”

“That’s awful.”

“A marriage between a sorcerer and mortal has always been forbidden.” He pushed out a breath and jerked a hand down his face. “Both my mother and my father knew this and accepted the consequences.”

“Why is such a union forbidden?”

“Because mortal and immortal have different life spans. While a sorcerer can live forever, a mortal cannot. My mother watched my father grow old, while she remained young. Every day she became increasingly aware that my father was dying, that there was nothing she could do to save him. And then, suddenly, he truly was dead.”

Compassion shimmered in Katie’s gaze, and it affected Jorlan more than it should have, warming him all over. He had stepped inside this chamber thinking he was guarded against her allure. Yet as he spoke, sharing a part of his life he’d never shared with another, he was somehow making the connection between them grow stronger.

“Did your mother take another husband?” she asked, her tone as gentle as a fifth season breeze.

“Nay. She loved my father with all of her heart, and claims the heart can only love so greatly but one time. Besides, she abandoned her people to be with him; she even abandoned her first son, my half brother. No man of the Druinn would have her, and I doubt another mortal man would have her, either.”

“Even though she is a former queen and high priestess?”

“Even then. The Druinn are loyal to Percen now, and would not wish to anger him.” Percen…His image flashed in Jorlan’s mind. As a child, Jorlan had prayed for a chance to meet his brother. He’d wanted someone to play with, someone to teach him the ways of magic. Yet his mother had always refused to introduce them, saying Percen belonged with his own people and needed no reminder of his mortal ties.

On the eve of his eighth span, Jorlan finally decided to visit his brother on his own. While his parents were too consumed with celebration details to notice his absence, he had sneaked away from the palace. For three hours he traveled, imagining the blessed meeting with every step. Percen’s face would light with happiness, and he would take Jorlan in his arms and swing him around with joyful abandon.

His imaginings died a quick death when he entered the white sands of Druinn.

Percen recognized him instantly. Instead of happiness, a dark cloud of hatred had descended upon his brother. Percen had pushed him, ridiculed him, spat on him, all the while destroying his boyhood dreams. Jorlan had never gone back, nor had he told his mother what had happened. He’d merely grieved in silence for the brother he would never know.

“I almost feel sorry for your brother,” Katie said, her voice whisking away his bleak thoughts. “I mean, I ache for his loss. Losing a mother is difficult. Mine died of heart failure when I was nine years old, and I still miss her.” Featherlight, her exhale swayed on the midday air. “I always knew she loved me. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d thought she hated me.”

That Katie could hurt for someone she’d never met—no matter that the person was his greatest enemy—touched Jorlan to the very core of his being. Not many people could be so understanding, so filled with empathy. Katie might strive for a hard, warriorlike demeanor, but she possessed the soft, caring heart of a woman.

Curse it. He didn’t want to, but he liked this side of her.

Her lips began moving again, but he didn’t catch the words. He was staring at her, Jorlan realized. Staring at her lush pink lips while the world around him ceased to exist. Unable to stop the images, his mind entertained pictures of those lips closing over his shaft, her pale hair spilling over his legs. Need uncurled inside of him like a lion awakening from an afternoon rest. His muscles clenched. If he did not distract himself, he would be ripping off her clothes, curse their talk and curse her resistance.

“Tell me about your life,” he barked.

A look of panic darted across her expression, but was quickly replaced by determination. Silently, she watched him. He wondered what she was thinking. Heat soon grew in her gaze, hot and consuming, slowly cresting to the rest of her features.

She smiled seductively.

On her hands and knees she crawled to him, not stopping until her nose brushed his. “I was born November sixteenth. Blue is quickly becoming my favorite color, and when I die, I want it to be from pleasure.” Then she planted her lips over his, took his tongue inside her mouth and sucked.

His body sprang to life immediately, and he groaned against her lips. Their tongues battled for control, thrusting, darting away, thrusting again. He wanted to howl when she eased back. She traced the seam of his mouth with her tongue, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, lest she decide to end the embrace altogether.

“Did you like that?” she asked instead.

“Aye.”

“Want me to do it again?” In that instant, Katie wanted so badly to be naked, wanted Jorlan to be naked, as well. Without conscious thought—Lord, she couldn’t think, only feel—she leaned into him, pressing herself more fully against him. Her nipples hardened, her lips tingled and her body came alive.

“Nay,” he breathed.

“Nay?” She froze. She craved him with every ounce of her being and he didn’t want her to do it again!