“Is…is she close by?” she managed to choke out.
His grin widened and he leaned forward on the countertop, invading her personal space with an ease that sucked all the breath from her lungs. “Very.”
“Oh.” She shifted in her spot, resisting the urge to fan her face. When had it gotten so hot in here?
“Spygian mates are predestined, you know,” he continued in a low, silky tone. His hand crept onto the counter, inches from where hers rested lightly on the edge, and she watched with bated breath. His fingers were so strong, so long and artistic. Nothing like Adamon’s rough, farmworker hands. What would it be like to feel them against her skin? The buds of her breasts?
Between her legs?
Oh heavens, why was she feeling this way? She couldn’t recall ever feeling so…so tight, so needy. Certainly not with Adamon. All she felt when she was in his arms was comfort. A sense of home.
So don’t ruin that, she reminded herself. No matter how tempting this Spygian might be.
The doorbell suddenly clanged again and she drew back with a degree of alarm that probably looked suspect, when she thought further of it. Glancing toward the door, she saw that it was Amra, one of the townspeople. Forcing a smile to her face, she murmured, “Good morning.”
“Yes, it is,” Amra snapped with her usual grumpy demeanor. She speared Bannor with a suspicious glance, but he pretended not to notice it. Snatching up an array of fruits and vegetables, he placed them onto the counter.
“I’ll take these.”
“Very good.” Trying her best to look collected and calm, rather than the raging mass of nerves she currently felt like, she grabbed a sack and concentrated on filling it. The sooner this Spygian was out of her store and out of her life, the better off she’d be.
* * * * *
Later that night, after taking her evening bath, Cindra bid Adamon good night, stealing a few chaste kisses while his parents pretended not to notice, and went off to her bedroom. She tried in vain to sleep, but it eluded her. Her skin felt hot and tight in the long cotton nightgown she wore, and her legs were unaccountably restless.
Opening her eyes, she blinked at the dark. How different this small, Spartan bedroom was from her luxurious princess quarters back in Chivea. Her opulent four-poster bed had given way to a narrow, hard bed, and instead of silk coverings she now had to make do it with serviceable cotton. But it was something, more than she’d had when she’d landed here, and the Nashors had been so kind to offer her a room in their house. When they’d witnessed the growing feelings between her and their only son, they’d given their approval for them to marry.
You have a good life, Cindra.
So why did she feel as if she wanted something else? Something…more?
Sighing, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep. A cool breeze blew in from the open second-story window, caressing her heated flesh with twilight. There was no electricity on Keulot, but thankfully it wasn’t as hot on this world as it had been on hers. She wouldn’t have survived a night in Chivea without air-conditioning.
Lost in her thought, she didn’t hear the creaking of the wooden floorboard until it sounded right beside her. Cindra’s eyes flew open…just as a hand closed over her mouth. She tried to jerk up, but a rigid wall of flesh held her in place. She let out a scream, but the sound was so muffled that she knew no one else would have heard it.
Opening her eyes, she blinked until the figure above her came into view.
Bannor.
He’d tied his long, black hair back behind his neck, but otherwise he looked just as tall and formidable, just as delicious, as he had this morning.
She tried to struggle against his grip, but he only said, “Shush. Shush, beloved. I’m not here to hurt you. I promise.”
When he did nothing to harm her, just held her gently, she slowly stopped her struggle.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, the flash of his silver eyes assuring her he meant it. “I but wanted to speak, and you are a difficult woman to catch alone.”
She sort of knew what he meant. Once she’d left the store, Adamon had trailed her the remainder of the day, as if he feared she’d run off the moment he wasn’t paying attention.
“I won’t let you come to any harm, I vow it,” he continued. “Do you promise not to scream?”
She thought about it for a moment. He truly did seem contrite, and if his intent was harm, wouldn’t he have done it by now? Well, she could always agree then scream later, if she wanted to. Right now, she truly wanted to hear what he had to say.
Nodding slowly, she forced her breath to regulate as he drew his hand from her face.
“What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?” she whispered harshly.
A slow smile lit his features as he sat back. “Ah, so the kitten does have claws.”
Flushing, she scooted backward until she sat against the wooden headboard. “You didn’t answer my question. How’d you get in here, anyway?”
He shrugged, the movement making his white shirt go tight against his broad shoulders. Her mouth went dry and she tore her gaze from his body to his face.
“I climbed the tree outside your window,” he said.
Oh, that damned beladora tree. She’d always thought it provided way too easy access into the house, but crime in this town was practically nonexistent and trees were as rare as precious diamonds, so no one even considered removing it or cutting the branches back.
“Why?” she asked.
“I wanted to speak with you,” he said, “but after today I began to doubt I’d ever get the opportunity without your fiancée standing about.”
Her anxious fingers clutched the sheet covering her body. What was she doing? She should scream, should order him to leave at the very least. But for some reason…she couldn’t do it. Not yet.
“What did you want to speak with me about?” she forced herself to say with anger in her tone.
“I wanted to continue our conversation from earlier.”
Cindra blinked at him. “What do you mean?”
“About our mate.”
Her heart let out a strange thump. Moistening her suddenly dry lips, she whispered, “Why would you need to speak with me about that?”
A mysterious smile lit his face. “Do you really not know, beloved? Can’t you guess? Can’t you feel it?”
Sudden suspicion set off a tremor through her body. No, he couldn’t be suggesting what she thought he was. It wasn’t possible.
“What?” she asked.
He gave her a look, as if he didn’t believe she could truly be so obtuse. His beautiful hand reached toward her, slow and steady, as if he was giving her a chance to object. She sucked in breath…and waited.
When his fingers combed through her loose hair before tugging it behind her ear, she fought the urge to let out a primitive moan. Just the touch of his hand on her hair practically electrified her entire body.
“It’s you, Cindra,” he murmured.
“Um…what?” She couldn’t think with him so near.
Bannor let out a low chuckle. “You’re the one, Cindra. Our mate. We came here for you.”
His words finally penetrated her mind and her startled gaze locked with his. She shook her head in automatic denial. “No, I…I’m not. I couldn’t possibly be.”
“You are,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument. “And I know you feel it too.”
“No.” It couldn’t be true. “I…I’m engaged. I love Adamon.”
His breath hissed out as he drew his hand back as if he’d been stung. His gaze went dark and hard. “Does Adamon make you feel the way you feel around us?”
Oh gods, how did he know? Could he sense her desire for him?
“I…” She shook her head again. “I…”
“Does he?” he repeated, his voice hard.
When she didn’t respond, just stared at him in mute silence, he did something she would never have expected. He reached his hand out and closed it over her breast, right over the cotton fabric of her nightgown. She let out a low screech, but to her pure and utter mortification, rather than draw away, she found her traitorous body arching into his touch. Wordlessly begging for more.
“Does it feel like this when he touches your breast, Cindra?”
His silver eyes glittered at her, practically daring her to deny what she felt.
“He…” He’s never touched my breast before.
But she didn’t say it. Couldn’t say anything, even when he drew closer, his head bending slowly toward hers. Before she could take a fortifying breath, his lips closed over hers, full and firm and astoundingly erotic.
Heavens… Adamon had certainly never kissed her like this. She was powerless to fight it, powerless to do anything but lean into him, allowing his tongue to plunder her mouth and his hand to knead her breast.
Gods, his tongue. It was longer than hers and slick and smooth as honey.
When he tore his mouth from hers, she found herself uttering, “Please.” But even she didn’t know what she was begging for. Him to stop…or to continue.
He must have taken her whispered word as an invitation, because he scooted her down along the bed, his body sliding along with hers, until she was once again fully reclined. His upper body pressed against hers and his lips closed over hers once again.