The Rebel King

giving pleasure in equally greedy measures. Sensation layered upon sensation until the heat, the pressure, the passion became something like agony.

'Darling…I-' Nikolas couldn't say more. He was on fire, in pain, stretched to the stinging point.

From somewhere in the nest of feather bedding came a fat, smug little chuckle-the Rhia he'd first come to know and adore, pleased, he imagined, to be back on top and in control, with him completely at her mercy. Then all thought fled, as her lithe, warm body slithered upward over his in one excruciating all-over caress.

Yes!

He caught her legs and drew them upward along his sides and lifted his head and shoulders to meet her, joy and the anticipation of sweet relief making starbursts of heat in his belly and chest. Her fingers tangled in his hair as her mouth found his and took possession of it. breathtaking as hot, honeyed brandy. He slid his hands along the back of her thighs to grasp her firm round buttocks, one breath away from sinking his aching flesh into her sweet softness…

But it wasn't to be, not yet. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, and she murmured something against his mouth he couldn't hear. Her legs tightened around him and her body tensed…and he thought: Of course. Remembering the way she'd positioned them before-neither one on top- The best way…

Only, this time he felt her body tighten and twist…and a moment later, in a move that reminded him of the way he'd turned the tables on her the first time he'd ever held her in his arms, that long-ago night on a Paris hotel balcony, he found himself above her, looking down at her face in the darkness.

She didn't say a word, but there was tenderness in the way her hands reached up to touch his face, and he could feel her body trembling with some vast unknown emotion. Moved himself without fully understanding why, he braced himself on his elbows and cradled her face between his hands, and when he brushed her cheeks with his thumbs, found them damp with tears. He kissed her. then, lightly at first, then deeply, as her arms and legs…her whole body embraced him. and wordlessly invited him in.

As before, penetration wasn't easy, though he knew she was moistened and ready for him. And. as before, he could feel her body brace for the invasion, determined, in her passion, both to ignore and to hide from him any pain he might cause her. But he was just as determined as she was: no matter how urgently he wanted to be inside her he was determined not to cause her pain. And. she had given him the control.

So, when she opened to him. he introduced himself into her body only a little, until he felt the slightest resistance…then held himself back, though his arms, his whole body quivered with the strain. When she pushed against him. he lowered his head and whispered. 'Relax, my love…let me take it slow…okay?'

'But I-' Gasping.

'Shh…' He kissed her, then, deeply, rhythmically…penetrated her with his tongue, made her mouth hot and slick with his essence…drove his tongue into her until she whimpered… until her mind abandoned her, and her body, left unguarded, warmed and softened and bloomed around his aching flesh. He slipped into her smooth, sweet depths with a sigh that became a duet, her breath and his, woven together in perfect harmony.

And his release, when it came, was like a crescendo of the same song, one she joined to make a climax that, though soul-stirring, was only a part of their own beautiful music.

Rhia woke to find light streaming through the multipaned windows, and Nikolas's chuckle stirring warm across her lips.

'Rise and shine, my sweet…'

As the notes of a blues song, achingly sad and lovely, slipped rapidly from her dream memory, she lifted her arms around his neck and sighing, tilted her mouth to his kiss.

'Mmm…love,don't tempt me. Fog's lifting-you can see the river. I expect our friend Elliot will be arriving shortly, and-' he dropped a delicate kiss onto the tip of her nose '-not that I mind, but I thought you might prefer not to have your colleague catch you in such an…ah…exposed, albeit delectable-'

'All right, already…I'm up. I'm up…okay?' She opened her eyes, sat up and threw back the comforter, trying hard to scowl, but the image that filled her sleep-fogged vision made her smile blissfully instead. Nikolas…elegant as ever, even when wearing nothing but a clay's growth of dark beard stubble. His body was so lean and lithe and beautiful…her heart stumbled, and her body's tender places tingled to wakefulness. Well-being filled her, and she lifted her arms over her head in a glorious stretch, like a cat in a pool of sunshine.

'Stop that, you shameless minx!' Nikolas thrust one arm around her waist and the other under her knees and hauled her. laughing, into his arms. He kissed her once. hard, then lowered her feet to the floor. 'Get dressed- now.'

Muttering dark Creole curses under her breath. Rhia obeyed. And as she did, she felt the sunshine fade and a chilly little cloud come to darken her heart instead. If only…

If only it could be like this for us always. If only it didn't have to end.

But it did. She knew that. The night just past had been an enchantment…a fantasy interlude…a day at Disneyland. Time now to wake up and return to the real world beyond the gates. And as before, she grieved secretly for the end of the dream…the loss of something wonderful she knew would not come again.

Once up and awake, she dressed with her usual efficiency-inspired, no doubt, by the need to find a bathroom as quickly as possible. While she did that. Nikolas, who had finished dressing even before she. folded the bedding and returned it to the chest, then turned out the contents of Elliot's duffel bag. They were wolfing down chocolate- dipped Danish butter cookies and bottled water when they heard the distant clack of a chopper's rotors.

Hastily stuffing what was left of the snack goodies back in the bag. they gathered it up along with their jackets and ran. Rhia, a few steps ahead of Nikolas, was halfway down the curving staircase before she realized he wasn't following. She stopped, gripping the banister railing, and looked back.

Up on the landing, Nikolas was standing absolutely still, frozen in place, like someone caught in a tractor beam.

'Nik?' She started back up the stairs, her heart already beginning to pound, though she didn't yet know the reason.

Light from the window at the far end of the landing had flooded across the wall directly in front of him, bringing into full glory the gilt-framed portraits hanging there. As she came closer, she could see that Nikolas was staring, apparently transfixed, at one portrait in particular. It was a large dark portrait-of one of the previous lords of the castle, she assumed-probably from the Victorian Era, judging from the gentleman's severe clothing, longish hair and full beard and mustache. His only visible features were a knife-bridged patrician nose, and eyes of a fierce and steely blue that glared frostily down at them from under thick, bushy eyebrows.

'Who's that?' Rhia asked sharply. 'One of the former Lord Vladimirs, surely.'

Without taking his eyes from the portrait, Nikolas shook his head slowly. Words came, barely audible, whispering from lips that might have been carved from stone.

'It's Silas.'

Chapter 12

I don't understand. If Lord Vladimir is Silas Donovan, how could he just…slip on a whole new identity and for thirty years live right here in Silvershire, in plain sight, and not leave any kind of trail?'

'People do it,' Nikolas said grimly. 'All the time.'

'Not to us,' Rhia said, gritting her teeth as she clutched at the dashboard of Nikolas's middle-aged Opal. 'The Lazlo Group's resources aren't that easy to outwit.'

He threw her a glance, then brought his narrowed gaze back to the road ahead-a great relief to her, since their speed had been hovering somewhere between suicidal and insane ever since they'd left Nik's apartment in Dunford. At the moment, they were careening along an almost deserted highway that followed the rugged coastline from the town of Dunford to the northeasternmost tip of the island kingdom. It would probably be a spectacular drive, she thought, under calmer circumstances. Walls of white that were a smaller version of the famed White Cliffs of Dover towered above the road on one side and on the other, dizzying drop-offs plunged to rocky shores and crashing surf.