Magic crackled between them.
Jane experienced a momentary wave of nervousness. Could Nicolai be entranced, or whatever Laila was doing to him? “That’s enough,” she barked.
Laila ignored her. “Tell my sister how much you desire me, precious. Tell her whose body you crave.”
His lips compressed into a thin line.
“Tell her! Now.”
Even the harp and violin drowned out, overshadowed by the thud of Jane’s heartbeat. Then Nicolai shook his head and said, “I desire the princess Odette,” and the world outside their circle reentered her awareness.
A shocked gasp. An angry growl. “No. No, you lie.”
“Why would he lie?” Jane demanded.
Laila’s narrowed gaze swung to her. “What did you do to him? How did you steal his affections from me? What did you do?” she screeched.
“She did nothing. I simply want her.” There was enough truth in Nicolai’s voice to prove his claim.
“I will—” Laila raised her hand, either to hit Nicolai or cast a spell.
Either way, Jane didn’t care. She grabbed on to the bitch’s wrist a second time. “You haven’t yet learned the concept of the phrase my property. Touch him, and you’ll regret it.”
Several seconds passed before Laila schooled her features and dropped her arm to her side. She released a shuddering breath. “You’re different, Odette. You never treated me this shabbily before.”
Jane shrugged, as if unconcerned, but deep inside she trembled. “Near-death experiences have a way of leaving their mark. Good night, sister dear.” Finally she claimed Nicolai’s hand and ushered him out of the tent, hurrying to hers.
Rhoslyn had taken her at her word, and had not remained to see to her needs. Jane and Nicolai were alone.
She whirled to face him. He’d dropped the mask, and she could see his dark, shaggy hair, his bright silver eyes. His towering height, wide shoulders and rock-solid strength. Her desire intensified, burning through her.
“We have much to discuss,” he said. He cupped her cheeks, his grip strong and sure. “But first, I need you. I missed you more than I can say.” And then he wasn’t saying anything at all. He was kissing her hungrily, and she was kissing him back.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
NICOLAI WRAPPED JANE in his arms, taking her passion and returning it with equal measure. He’d nearly dropped to his knees the moment he’d spotted her, perched beside his enemy, in danger but alive. Relief, yes, he’d experienced that emotion. Fury, that, too. Laila had been within his reach, his to kill.
Fear had accompanied the fury, however. He’d felt the magical spell protecting the bitch from physical injury, and returning whatever violence was dished to the one doing the attacking.
If he’d gone for her throat…if Jane had…
They would have died.
Didn’t happen. Jane’s safe now.
Laila must know Nicolai was coming for her, or she would not have cast the spell. A spell most witches avoided. No one could hurt her, it was true, but no one could help her, either. If she injured herself accidentally, the spell would turn on her, seeing her as the threat. She would not only suffer with her injury, she would suffer a hundredfold with the magic.
“Nicolai,” Jane rasped.
He’d feared she would not recognize him, that he would have to steal Laila’s ability to hypnotize to force her to leave with him. Something he hadn’t known he could succeed in doing, not with Laila’s spell waiting to strike. He should have had more faith in his woman. Jane was as aware of him as he was of her. The face he wore didn’t matter.
“Yes, sweetheart.” The sweetness of her scent infused with his cells. Her decadent taste filled his mouth. His blood heated, and every muscle in his body hardened, anticipating her touch.
“What did you…do with the…real slave?” Her tongue licked at his each time she paused to breathe.
“Set him free.” In more ways than one. Laila had scrambled the poor man’s brain, until he hadn’t known up from down, left from right, making herself the only tangible thing in his world, forcing him to cling to her.
Nicolai could have simply chained the poor man for the night and hidden him, but he’d thought, That could have been me. He’d used his own abilities to break through and remind the man of who he was and who he loved, removing Laila from the equation.
“Nice.” Jane’s hold tightened on him, nearly breaking his ribs. Worth it, he thought. “Shouldn’t we…escape, while we…have the chance?”
“No. When the princess sleeps, I can invade her dreams, force her to hurt herself.” Another ability he possessed. “Then we’ll leave. Return to Elden.” Each sentence was punctuated with a deep, wet kiss that rocked him to his soul.
“So we need to do something to pass the time, huh?” Jane returned her full attention to his tongue, sucking and rolling it with her own. Her hands slid through his hair, her nails scraping his scalp and leaving their mark.
He loved that she accepted his need for vengeance so easily. He loved that she clung to him, as desperate for closer contact as he was. But nothing would ever be close enough, not for either of them. He loved that she was smarter than he, and sometimes got lost in her own thoughts.
He just loved…her. Yes, he realized. He did. He loved her. He’d fallen in love with her soon after she first appeared in his world. They’d been strangers, but they’d soon bonded. From the bond, caring had sprung. From the caring, love. But the desire…oh, the desire had always been there.
A glimmer of resentment in his chest. Not directed at her, but to the vampire who had cursed her. Nicolai could never tell her how he felt. She might return the sentiment and vanish.
“I missed you. So much,” he said, willing to confess that much but no more. “The separation was like being stabbed.” Over and over again, the wound and pain never ending.
“I missed you, too.” She kissed and nipped a path along his jaw, his neck, licking and laving. “Where’d you go?”
“Elden.”
“Home?”
“Yes.”
“Me, too.”
“What?” He disengaged from the erotic contact, and peered down at her. “Home home?”
She refused to stop. With a little leap, she was back in his arms and sucking on his pulse. “Yes, home home. My world.”
Nicolai cupped her chin, forcing her to still, to look at him. Her eyes were glazed with passion, her lids at half-mast. His heart constricted at such a lovely sight. A shake of his head was required to put him back on track. “Let me be clear on this. You left my world and returned to yours.”
“Yes.”
He’d almost lost her again. And he’d had no idea! “How did you get back?” he croaked.
A secret smile played at the edges of her lips. One that burned through him, deepening his arousal. “Apparently, when you gave me your blood, you gave me your ability to teleport, too.”
Dark Abyss. He had never considered that possibility. Maybe because he’d only ever shared his blood with his father, and his father had already possessed some of Nicolai’s abilities.
“And you came back to me.” He’d never been one to see fate’s hand in his life, but now…if Jane hadn’t been injured by the ogres, he wouldn’t have given her his blood. If he hadn’t given her his blood, he wouldn’t have found a way to tie her to his side for the rest of their lives.
“I’ll always come back to you.”
A heavy weight lifted from his shoulders. The curse had somehow lost its power over her. Otherwise, she would have remained in her world.
He traced his thumbs over her cheekbones. “I’ve told you this before, but I want you to listen closely. I don’t care if I have a thousand betrothed females waiting on me. You are all that matters.” He would have only one woman. This woman. Forever.
He swooped back down, plunging his tongue past her teeth and into the sweet recesses of her mouth. She welcomed him with a moan.
He’d been cold and detached with females most of his life. Oh, he’d treated his mother and sister as the treasures they were, but everyone else he had never even given a second thought. He’d been a prince, and they his due. Or so he’d convinced himself.
Fate, he mused again. Had he not been a slave, desperate to escape, he might have treated Jane the same way. And that would have been a shame, to never have known her and the nuances of her personality. Unselfish, brave, stronger than anyone he knew, capable and honorable.
Honorable. Yes. He would never have to wonder where he stood with her. She would always tell him, whether he was a prince or a pauper. She would never be intimidated by him, would always challenge him.
“I want you naked.” He tugged at the shoulder straps of her robe, shoving the material to the floor. In seconds, emerald material pooled at her feet. He lifted her out of it, and settled her more firmly against his body. Skin-to-skin. Finally.
Every time she exhaled, their chests rubbed together, and he thrilled at the contact. She was hot and silky against him. Her nipples were beaded, rasping against the fine mat of hair he possessed. His shaft pressed to both their bellies, moisture seeping from the tip. He arched his hips, creating a delicious glide.
She arched to meet him, the friction sparking exquisitely. “I can’t ever get enough of you.”
“Good.” He traced his hands down the ridges of her spine, loving the goose bumps that jumped up to meet him. He cupped her ass. “No panties?”
“None were given to me.”
“I’m glad.” If he had his way, she’d never wear them again.
“I—I want you. Now.”
“You’ve got me. Nothing will separate us, Jane. Do you understand?”
Her breath hitched. She toyed with the ends of his hair. “I think so, yes.”
“Know so. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. I want to wed you. To be with you always. I choose you, Jane. Over my crown, my people and my vengeance.”
