The Charmer

Chapter 23

“In front of people. Male audiences,” she finished bitterly.

“I see.”

“Good. Then send me back.” His face took on that stubborn look and she didn’t wait for his denial. “Listen here, you pigheaded son of a b***h! I.…” To her horror, her throat closed on the words, and she could only stand there in humiliation, reduced to the helplessness of a child. A single tear tracked down her cheek.

She bowed her head and clenched her fists. Now was not the time to lose her composure. She might as well concede defeat if she did.

“It won’t be forever, Jasmine.” His voice was soothing.

She wanted to scream.

“It will stop as soon as you take a mate.”

Bile churned in her stomach. “You think I would…” Her world blackened on the edges. “I don’t even have a boyfriend!” Breathe, Jas, just breathe.

“Fallon...” He didn’t flinch when the priceless black diamond statue of a volti splintered against the front of his desk, nor even when the heavy crystal decanter followed. His door crashed open, but he waved the Haunt guards back as she insulted first his mother, his ancestry and finally himself in graphic, lurid detail, then stormed out, rolling on her own thunder.

***

Jasmine started violently when Wiley touched her shoulder.

“It’s just me,” Wiley assured her softly. She bit her lip. “It’s getting close to dinnertime.” She paused, hope in her eyes. “The family is eating together again.”

Jasmine shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

“Feign it,” Keilor told her flatly, announcing his presence. “Jayems expects you to be there, and your lady desires it.” He ordered the bath to start up. “I’ll be back to escort you to the table in half an hour.”

Jasmine jumped to her feet. “Get out of my room, you jerk!”

He didn’t budge. “Are you going to be ready?”

“I don’t think so,” she said with biting sarcasm, and made the mistake of adding a sneer. In a heartbeat he’d crossed the room and tossed her over his shoulder. Striding over to the tub, he dumped her swearing self into it, clothes and all. She surfaced, spitting water, and furiously raked the hair off of her face. “You son of a...”

He hefted the soap in warning, and she clamped her mouth shut. It was tough to glare and blink away the water spiking her lashes at the same time.

He gave her a pleasant smile. “Now, you can either finish this yourself, charmer, or I can climb in there with you...” his voice roughened a fraction, and she swallowed hard, “...and I won’t be wearing my clothes when I do.” Fire shot into her cheeks, and he handed her the soap. “I’ll be back in.…” He glanced at the clock on a wall shelf. “...twenty-six minutes. Be ready.”

The door shut behind him, and Jasmine looked at Wiley.

Wiley looked at her. She offered a weak smile. “Need help with your hair?”

***

He knocked on the door exactly twenty-six minutes from the time he’d left, clad in his own formal wear. Rihlia opened the door and entered the hall, followed by a sulky Jasmine.

Her jade gown deepened the green of her eyes and made the red of her glossy, pouting lips all the more inviting, not that he would tell her. She ignored his politely offered arm and tried to walk around him, so he took her hand and tucked it into his left arm, clamping his right hand over it.

Her jaw tightened. “Shouldn’t you be escorting Wiley? Doesn’t she outrank me?”

“Her name is Rihlia, and Jayems will escort her.” He nodded to Jayems as he stepped out into the hall and offered Rihlia his arm.

“I’ve called her Wiley for years now and I have no intention of...oh!” She gasped as the backs of his fingers brushed against her breast.

“Rihlia,” he repeated with as much patience as he’d use training a new villi. “It's her name, and I expect you to use it.” Jayems and

Rihlia rounded a corner and he deliberately lagged. Their footsteps began to fade.

There was far more to Jasmine’s refusal to acknowledge Rihlia’s name than sheer stubbornness. Too many shocks had hit her too quickly, and she was still trying to retreat. If he continued to allow her to call his cousin Wiley then he was tacitly allowing her the illusion of a return to life as she knew it. Such a thing would be a cruel tease, and the sooner she forgot the idea and moved on the better off she’d be.

The woman on his arm sent him a withering look. “I’ll call her whatever I wish, and what I wish to call her is...” she broke off with a yelp as he spun her back to the wall and bared her left breast. A hot, wet mouth closed over her n****e. She cried out and grabbed his hair.

“What will you call her?” he demanded. He gifted her n****e with a long, fiery lick.

She tugged weakly at his head, gasping, “Stop! They’ll see...Oh, Keilor…” If anyone else had touched her like that she’d have done her best to draw blood, but this was Keilor. Though she’d have taken a beating rather than admit it, she’d wanted this. Dreamed of it…

His teeth raked her peak and she squirmed against the wall. Her scent rose around him, entered into him, permeating the c****s in his defenses, calling to him to take her fast, now, against the wall.

Keilor forced himself to pull away and glance pointedly down the hall, reminding her they lacked privacy. “You want to call her Rihlia, don’t you, Dragonfly?”

Reminded of his game, she shoved against him and tried to knee his groin, but he twisted and trapped her with his hips against the wall. A handful of silky hair stilled her head for him and a massaging hand at her n***d breast gained him entrance to her mouth. With all the pent up passion she aroused, he kissed her, stealing her breath and making it his own.

With one last lick to her luscious tongue, he drew back, keeping their bodies locked together. Fighting for breath, he warned her, “I can go all night, sweetheart, but I can’t guarantee we won’t draw an audience.”

She slowly closed her eyes. She’d done it again; let him use her body against her. When would she learn? “Rihlia,” she said, and it tasted like ashes.

“Rihlia,” he agreed, but didn’t withdraw as they both expected. Instead he kissed her again, softly, washing away the ashes with the sweet tenderness of his kiss. Desire washed through her like a warm rain, and when he withdrew this time, both were trembling.