The Dark Prince's Prize

Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Samara parted her lips under Adalard’s. It was hard to believe, but her heart was beating more frantically now than when she almost fell to her death after Adalard startled her. She forced her fingers to relax against his jacket and slid her hands up to his shoulders.

The same tingling feeling ran through her that seemed to happen every time she and Adalard touched. She could also see colors swirling around them. Almost like they were threads trying to weave them together in some cosmic way.

Curious, she ran her tongue along his teeth. Images of Little Red Riding Hood and the scene with the Wolf danced through her mind when she noticed that his canines appeared sharper than normal. Instead of being repulsed, she found them sexy.

All the better to bite me with, she mused.

I like the thought of that.

She pulled back, startled again. This time because she could have sworn that she had heard him respond to her thought, except his voice was in her head. He started to bend forward and kiss her again, but she covered his mouth with her gloved hand and gave him a slightly apologetic smile.

“I’ll give you that one as thanks. Sorry about the glove on the mouth. At least these aren’t the ones I shovel manure with,” she said with a wry grin.

His nose wiggled with distaste, and he rubbed his hand across his mouth when she stepped away. She released a strained chuckle and looked back down into the ravine, keeping a healthy distance from the edge. When she turned her focus back to him, she noticed that snow was beginning to accumulate on the brim of his hat.

“We’d better get back. The weather forecast said the storm would be worse than expected,” she informed him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, following her.

She glanced over her shoulder and scowled at him. “Looking for some dumb-a*s greenhorn who decided to go where he was told not to go,” she stated, turning back to the mare.

“Who—? Ah, you are speaking of me,” he dryly realized.

She waved a hand around. “Do you see anyone else? You can explain why you took off without telling anyone on the way back,” she retorted, mounting the mare. She waved at the gelding stomping his right hoof against the ground. “I hope you know how to ride a horse.”

He studied the gelding. “I believe I can manage,” he dryly answered.

She loosely held the reins and waited as he mounted the gelding. Once he was seated, she gently guided the mare back in the direction of the ranch. They rode in silence, single file, for about a quarter of a mile before she turned onto a narrow dirt road that was wide enough to ride side-by-side.

“This would have come in handy earlier,” he muttered.

“So, what was so important that it was worth getting caught in a snowstorm?” she curiously asked.

“My transport,” he replied.

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Your bike is in the ravine?” she asked with surprise.

“Yes,” he answered.

“O-kay. I guess that explains why you were stuck. How the hell you got it down there in the first place amazes me. There is a trail that leads up to the ridge where you can cross the river. Mason had the old bridge replaced last year, so if you get it back up to the top, it won’t fall through. The best thing would probably be to take a truck and trailer and pick it up along the highway. I can’t imagine why you’d take a street bike off road, but I’ve seen stranger things,” she mused.

“How did you find me?” he asked.

“Bobby, one of the part-time guys, saw you go into the woods. He flagged me down as we passed each other to warn me that he saw someone and wanted to make sure you were authorized to be there. I knew it was you from his description. We’d better get moving. The snow is getting heavier,” she replied.

What she didn’t tell him was that she had seen fading ribbons of red light leading into the woods. She had quickly saddled the mare and one of the geldings and followed the ribbon trail to the ravine. Her heart nearly dropped to her feet when she noticed the trail of light disappear over the edge. She lost sight of it in the mist rising from the river.

If that wasn’t strange enough, there had been the voice in her head. It—Adalard—sounded as if he actually spoke to her. Ever since she had picked him up this morning, weird things were happening—things she didn’t understand.

With everything else going on in her life right now, she didn’t have time for crazy distractions. She touched her heels to the mare’s side, picking up the pace. The snow was steadily falling and beginning to accumulate. She needed to get the horses back to the barn and brush them down, and then tape up the busted window on her truck and speak to Mason before she had the pleasure of trying to get down the mountain to deal with her brothers once and for all.

Besides, picking up the pace also gave her a reprieve to come to terms with their kiss. There was a definite spark between them—one that was going to be hard to ignore.

She accepted the fact that for some weird reason, she was physically attracted to Adalard. It wasn’t as if she was oblivious or ignorant about these kinds of things. Hell, with five older brothers, she saw and heard enough to nauseate the strongest of dispositions.

What puzzled her was why. He was everything she tried to avoid. He had that same air of danger—an authority issue—about him that her brothers did. Well, except for Brit. He was just a dumbass that followed the others.

Forty minutes later, they emerged near the barn. She dismounted, and still gripping the mare’s reins, walked over to the barn door and opened it. Adalard dismounted and led the gelding in behind her. Once they were inside, she slid the door closed.

“You can put him in any of the empty stalls. I’ll take care of them,” she stated, leading the mare into an empty stall.

“I will help,” he replied.

She was about to argue but one look at his face told her that it would be useless. Instead, she shrugged and focused on removing the mare’s saddle, blanket, and reins. She placed the equipment outside of the stall and picked up a brush.

“Thank you—for coming for me,” he said.

She looked over the mare’s back and chuckled. “You sound like that was difficult to say,” she commented.

“What was difficult to say?” he asked.

“Thank you,” she replied.

He was silent for a moment before he chuckled. “Yes, I guess it did sound that way,” he reflected.

“Why? Don’t people do things for you?” she curiously asked.

“Yes, all the time,” he replied.

She paused in brushing the mare and gave him a pointed look. “And do you thank them?” she inquired.

He frowned and gazed back at her with a mild expression of confusion. “No, why should I? They are doing what they should be,” he responded.

She shook her head and resumed brushing the mare. “Well, that was spoken like a true Prince with a gold spoon shoved up his a*s,” she muttered, wincing when she realized he had heard her.

Thirty minutes later, she closed the stall door. She waited while Adalard did the same. He was good with the gelding.

“Do you have horses where you live?” she asked in a curious voice.

“The animals we ride are different on Ceran-Pax than they are here. They are larger and have thick, leathery hides instead of soft hair,” he said.

She stopped and faced him. “Ceran-Pax? Is that like—a city? What country is it in?” she asked.

Her curiosity changed to confusion when he caressed her cheek, and his expression conveyed that he was torn about telling her something. She remembered Wilson having the same look in his eyes before he told her everything would be alright. By morning, he was gone.

“I find it impossible to lie to you. There are things I want to tell you, but I don’t think you are ready to believe me yet,” he confessed.

“Adalard, if you are in some kind of trouble….” Her voice faded when he shook his head.

“I have something I must take care of before I tell you more. Until then, I ask that you trust me when I tell you that I mean you no harm,” he said.

“Well, that’s a relief,” she mumbled.

He reached out and gripped her hand when she started to turn away. She blinked in surprise when he bent forward and gave her a hard, brief kiss before he stepped back, opened the door, and disappeared, leaving her staring mutely at the door.

She lifted a hand and touched her lips. That was the third time today that he had kissed her. It had been a while since she had kissed a man this much, especially on the same day!

“Holy moly, but I don’t need this right now,” she muttered with a shake of her head.

She groaned when she saw that the snow was really beginning to stick. Her truck seat was probably frozen. Even with the heat, she would end up with a wet a*s unless she covered it with a horse blanket.

Cursing under her breath, she headed for her truck. She would have to drive it that way down to Mason’s place. At least there, she could pull it under the pole barn and work on it.

She pulled her heavy leather gloves out of the pockets of her coat and was in the process of putting them on when she reached the driver’s side and looked up. She almost fell when she lurched to a sudden stop. She stared in shock, reached out, and touched the solid piece of glass.

“How the hell—?” she breathed, running her gloved fingers along the smooth glass.

She pulled the door open, examining the other side. The window looked as if it were brand new. A soft glow pulled her attention away from the window to the seat. Her lips parted on a soft gasp when she saw the flower on the worn upholstery. She pulled off her glove and picked up the bloom. Studying the intricate violet petals and bright yellow leaves, she marveled at the colors. The petals reminded her of Adalard’s eyes. She had never seen a flower like this in her life.

She switched the flower to her other hand and gently caressed the center bud that was pulsing with light. The petals slowly opened and revealed the truck key. A small puff of fog surrounded it when she gasped again.

“How in the hell did you do this?” she mumbled.

“I’m an alien from another world.” Adalard’s words suddenly filled her mind. Her cold fingers trembled as she continued to caress the bloom. She had never been into science fiction, but if she had, she suspected that this was what an alien flower might look like. She carefully extracted her truck key from the center of the flower.

I told you that I could not lie to you.

“Holy s**t!” she croaked out when Adalard’s husky, accented voice filtered through her mind.

She hastily tossed the flower onto the passenger seat, climbed into her truck, and slammed the door shut. Her hand shook as she tried to insert the key into the ignition. It took her three tries before she was successful. Twisting the key, she started the engine.

Cold air blasted her, causing her to shiver uncontrollably. She lifted her hands to her mouth, blowing warm air across her cold fingers before pulling on her glove. Her mind was whirling as she thought about everything that had happened since this morning.

Adalard walking along the highway, the strange swirling colors, the thing he did to Gary’s truck, Jerry’s pale, shaken complexion after their little talk, and Adalard’s insistence on going to the ravine. Her eyes widened with a sudden suspicion.

“Motorcycle, my a*s!” she hissed.