Part 39 (1/2)

For Mitch.e.l.la, the remaining days until the official T'Blackthorn open house pa.s.sed with unprecedented swiftness. The hours of light were filled with restoring the Residence, particularly the ballroom. In the nights she barely slept, steeping herself in lovemaking with Straif. As often as she reached for him, he took her, until the dark hours became a blur of wondrous sensation.

Finally it was the eve of the open house. The workers had left. Antenn was spending the night at Vinni T'Vine's castle. The cook had everything prepared for the morrow and had retired to his rooms in nervous exhaustion. Drina was upstairs testing Danith D'Ash's new Fam Grooming Cabinet and Spa.

So Mitch.e.l.la stood in the Grand Hall, ready to review the Residence one last time. Her stay at the house was numbered in septhours, and she seethed with anxiety about the open house and how the great n.o.bles of the land would judge her work, and dread at the pain that would come when she said good-bye to Straif.

The Hall was gorgeous, the walls a rich, warm cream color with a mixture of jewel-toned paintings, tapestries, and holos displaying the Blackthorns' collection of art. All the most striking objects were in the Hall to impress the visitor as they stepped through the huge door. The light was soft and focused to show the art at best advantage.

She sighed, shook her head. She didn't see how she could have improved on her job here, and that filled her with a melancholy satisfaction.

There was a quiet ”pop,” and Straif stood behind her. Every nerve quivered in acknowledgment of his presence. She thought her very skin breathed in the aura of him. He rested his hands on her shoulders and brought his body to touch hers from behind. The feel of him made her knees weak.

”Thank you for giving my home back to me-better than ever before,” he said, and his breath brushed her ears. She wanted nothing but to sink back against him. Forever. So she stiffened her knees and locked a door against pain. Pain would be in the future, but she didn't have to suffer it now.

She chuckled. ”This will make my reputation, Straif, and Clover Furniture will do well, also. Do you wish to do a last tour with me?”

”No. I've already been through the Residence. It's wonderful. Listen.”

Holding still, she strained her ears and heard the Residence murmuring to itself as it checked its rooms and initiated spells. When she inhaled, a mild scent of honeysuckle drifted to her.

”The Residence is happy. Drina is happy. I am happy,” Straif whispered. ”At this moment there is nothing I want more than to make love to you.” He turned her around and looked into her eyes, his own dark blue, yearning, shadowed with the knowledge of the end. ”Will you come to bed with me?”

One last night in the generational Blackthorn bed, as his HeartMate, but not to HeartBond.

He had restored his home, turned an enemy into welcome Family, bonded with a Fam, and found a potion that granted immunity to the Angh virus. He had broken the Blackthorn Curse and would demonstrate to all tomorrow that he was a FirstFamily GrandLord. No wonder he was happy.

So she said what she'd said so often in the past and would only say again this one last night. ”Of course I'll love you.” In bed and forever.

She slid her hands into his thick sandy hair and drew his lips down to hers, opening her mouth wide. His hand covered her bottom and pressed her hard against his aroused body. Their tongues dueled, and she sucked on his and took the taste of him into her, to remember always.

Then his hands were between them, slipping down the grooves of her clothes, opening her tunic, her breastband, cupping her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and playing with her nipples until she couldn't breathe, she had to break the kiss, just to groan her delight and desire.

He circled her wrist with his fingers and drew her slowly, as if dancing, across the marble squares of the Hall and to the stairs, leading her up to his bed. Her blood pounded hot. Her core dampened, readying to take him into her.

”Come with me,” he said, tempting her. They climbed the staircase, and it seemed like a dream. ”Come to me,” he said and opened the door to his suite, kicked it shut behind him. ”Come for me,” he said as he put her on the bed and joined her there, side by side.

Matching her gaze with his own, his hand slid beneath the waistband of her trous, under her pantlettes, until his fingers found her swollen flesh begging for his touch.

He stroked her, found the seat of her pa.s.sion, pressed, and she whimpered and closed her eyelids. He withdrew his hand. ”Don't,” he said. ”Look into my eyes. I want that link, gaze to gaze, body to body, emotion to emotion. Watch me while I watch you.”

”Yes,” she whispered and lifted her fingers to brush against his cheek.

”Clothes gone,” he muttered, and they were naked. His manhood was strong and thick against her thigh.

”Come inside me,” she whispered, arching against him, seeing his pupils dilate. She caressed him with her whole body, rubbing, letting the roughness of his chest hair against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s push her to a higher level of sensuality. She reached down and found him, brought him to her, over her, in her. And he was there. Everywhere. In her body. In her mind. In her heart.

And she was in his eyes.

Her breath clogged in her throat as he filled her, stretched her, caressed her intimately s.e.x to s.e.x. He withdrew, lingered at the entrance of her sheath, slowly penetrated again. The bond between them flowed with nothing but sensation, pa.s.sion, rising ecstasy.

He rode her, or she rocked under him. His intensity enveloped her, his eyes went unfocused, and all she could see was blue and black and gold-silver-sparkling light of pa.s.sion. He moved faster, she panted, but kept her eyes on his, open to him in all ways.

He plunged. She cried out. They shattered together, and the pleasure was so sharp that all went starburst-white. He collapsed on her.

A few minutes later, he rolled to his side, tucked her into the curve of his body. They slept together.

When she woke, he was dressing. She glanced at the timer-Work bell, but it wasn't a workday, it was Playday. The open house was set for two septhours after noon.

He watched her with narrow gaze, impa.s.sive expression as he closed the tab-groove of his tunic. ”Stay with me.”

She couldn't discuss this in bed. She got up and dressed in last night's clothes. She'd stand under a waterfall soon. ”The project is over.”

”There's still a lot to do.”

”Not so much, finis.h.i.+ng touches that I think your Lady should complete.”

”I'm not ready to find my HeartMate.”

Mitch.e.l.la flinched inwardly. ”Straif, you weren't ready to stay in Druida, but the Hollys called you back. You weren't ready to rehabilitate your Residence, but living in T'Holly Residence under a broken vow of honor forced you away. Your contract with me and Stachys's claim prodded you to complete this work. The only thing that you've been 'ready' to do is to find the cure for your flawed heritage. I imagine that you'll always search for that. Meantime you have a preventative drink that will s.h.i.+eld your children from harm. It's time to move on with your life.”

”Are you trying to fight with me?”

”No.”

A calendar-globe appeared. ”Time to distill and drink the vaccine against the Angh virus,” it said.

”I want you to stay with me.”

”Antenn and I have our own place.”

”Let's talk about this after the open house. Please.”

”All right.” She hoped she had the willpower to stand against him. An affair, no matter how loving and long term, wasn't an option as long as he wanted children.

Straif nodded. ”Right.” He smiled the smile that always touched her. ”I'm glad you're my hostess today.” He looked around the room, ”I'm glad that it was you who made my Residence a home for me again.”

Mitch.e.l.la chuckled. ”You'll get my bill.”

”I'll pay it, and I'll introduce you to everyone today.” He strode over, pulled her against him, and kissed her. He was aroused. ”You can't give this up,” he whispered. ”I can't give it up. Not yet.”

Leaving her breathing hard, he walked away. She sank onto the bed and put her face in her hands. A few more hours-perhaps. Why couldn't she make the break? But it wasn't time to think about it now, even as a thin blade of hurt slipped into her heart as she thought of him in the stillroom, preparing for his future Family. Soon the urge to mate and sire children would override his pa.s.sion for her. She might be able to hold him if she told him he was her HeartMate-but bitterness would eat at him, ruin their lives together.