Shield's Lady (Lost Colony #3)
Page 22"I don't know," she gasped. "I don't know. Please, Gryph, I can't think." "I want you." "You hardly know me." Her eyes were pleading with him now, pleading for understanding and
reassurance. But he saw the passionate curiosity in them, too, and he aimed for that.
"I know you better than you think." He leaned down to brush her mouth with his own. Relief and triumph swept through him when she didn't instantly pull away.
Deliberately he kept the kiss gentle and undemanding. He would not make the mistake of overwhelming her as he had the last time he had kissed her. He didn't want her to be frightened of him. His whole body was clamoring for release, but he could control himself tonight. He would give Sariana the time she needed.
Sariana stood very still beneath his kiss. Then her lips parted slightly. Gryph took the invitation at once, sliding his tongue deeply into her warm mouth. His hand moved down from her shoulder to the curve of her breast. When he felt her nipple hardening beneath the fabric of her robe he thought he would go out of his mind. He held the kiss as long as he dared, held it until he felt the stirring of a new kind of tension in her and then he reluctantly broke the intimate contact.
"Sariana, Sariana," he muttered against her lips. "Tell me that all you need is time. I can wait if I must."
"I don't understand any of this," she whispered. "What are you doing to me?"
'There's no point in fighting it. I 'don't think either of us has much choice." He brought his other hand up to cup her face between his palms. Somehow he had to impress upon her the inevitability of their union. It would be simpler and far less difficult for her to accept that union if she came of her own volition to understand there was no real choice. "I'll try not to rush you."
"Gryph…"
"No man has ever asked me to have an affair with him." Her words trembled in the air between them. "I'm not sure I want one. Not now. Not with someone I hardly know…"
He dared not tell her that what he was asking involved far more than a short-term arrangement. She would almost certainly panic if he did. But it was possible he could convince her to enter into what she thought would be a brief affair. She was a young woman of passion, although she did not yet fully comprehend that. She was far from the constraints of home and she found herself alone and lonely in a foreign land. The thought of having an affair might be very tempting to her.
"I told you earlier that you are not the only one who is familiar with loneliness," he reminded her softly. She nodded slowly. "The Avylyns explained that the Shields number very few and that most of you
walk alone for the most part. You live on the fringes of society."
"In a sense you and I are both strangers in this land."
Her small fingers closed around his wrist. "Is it very difficult for you, Gryph? Being a Shield, I mean?" "No more difficult than your chosen exile is for you."
A wealth of gentle sympathy was mirrored in her eyes. "I think I understand." "Thank you, Sariana." He brushed her mouth once more and then he made himself release her. Without a word he turned and walked to the door. But just as he was about to leave he looked back
over his shoulder. She was standing where he had left her beside the golden cage, her eyes full of aching, unasked questions.
Halfway down the corridor to his room he remembered the crushed flower in the pocket of his jacket. He removed it and stared at the broken petals for a moment.
Then Gryph smiled to himself and tossed the flower into a nearby trash receptacle discreetly disguised as a vase.
The nice thing about dealing with Sariana was knowing that she was not weak and fragile like that flower. She would not get crushed if the wooing got a little rough.
The lady was a potential Shieldmate and such women were not fluffy, delicate or weak, in spite of their outward appearances. He would give her time because that was the courteous thing to do and he was, after all, a lord of a Prime Family. He could do the gentlemanly thing when it was required. Besides, he wanted to impress Sariana with his proud manners.
But in the end, whether he used the courteous approach or some more direct means, Sariana would belong to him. The decision had been made.
Chapter 5
The message from Brinton arrived the night of the Avylyns' costume ball.
It couldn't have come at a more inopportune time as far as Gryph was concerned. He'd had plans for the evening. Plans that revolved around showing Sariana he knew how to conduct himself on a dance floor.
Dancing with Sariana and showing off his best manners hadn't been Gryph's only goal for the evening. He'd also wanted to get a good look at Etion Rakken. He was curious about his competition.
Instead, here he was wandering through garbage strewn alleys dressed in a new shirt of black linen, his boots polished until they gleamed, his gray jacket and trousers perfectly pressed. There hadn't even been time to change his clothes. The message that had arrived at one of the Avylyns' back doors a short time ago had been carried by a small, grimy, barefooted boy. It had been terse and cryptic.
Gryph had sensed the urgency behind it at once. Brinton was an old hand at this kind of thing. He wouldn't panic easily. His uncanny nose for underground gossip must have turned up something very interesting.
Gryph made his way unobtrusively along a back street the town council considered so. unimportant it had decided not to waste money illuminating it with vapor lamps. There wasn't even much moonlight tonight. The roiling clouds of another summer storm were quickly obscuring the night sky.
If Brinton was at the rendezvous point as he had said he would be, Gryph reflected, there would still be plenty of time to get back to the ball before it concluded with the late night buffet. It had been a long time since he had danced. He sincerely hoped it was like riding a dragonpony in that once you learned how, you never forgot.
His best hope for not making a complete fool of himself lay in the fact that he suspected Sariana probably wasn't much of a dancer herself. He had a hunch she'd spent a lot more time in the classroom and library than she had in a ballroom.