Gena Showalter Bundle. Gena Showalter
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“Would it help to know that you must wed me before you can travel with me?”
Her mouth dropped wide open, and her knees nearly collapsed. “Wed you? I thought marriages between a sorcerer and a mortal were forbidden.”
“I am the son of a great-lord. I do what I please.”
“So you’re really and truly asking me to marry you?” She was smiling, a genuine, happy smile, but she just couldn’t help herself. It didn’t seem to matter that what he was suggesting was ridiculous, that they’d known each other so short a time, and that he could very possibly be using marriage as a means of getting what he wanted. Joy was traipsing through her at an alarming rate.
“My people would not accept you if you were not my life-mate, so aye, I am really and truly asking you to marry me. For a time,” he added.
For a time. The words echoed inside her mind, destroying her elation bit by bit.
“I must warn you,” he said, almost as an afterthought, “that I am unsure of the time difference between our worlds.”
“What do you mean?”
“I suspect time passes more quickly here,” he explained, “but how much more quickly, I know not.”
“So I could visit Imperia for five days, but when I return, five hundred years could have passed here?”
His jaw tensed, and she knew he didn’t want to answer, but he did anyway. “That is correct. Only one sorcerer has the power to manipulate time. My brother, Percen, the Druinn high priest. Yet he would never do anything to help me.”
Probabilities and possibilities drifted beneath her thoughts. If she chose to go with him, she could definitely return to Earth, but the Earth she knew might be very different from the Earth she left behind. She might never see Nick’s mischievous grin. Never feel the warmth of Erik and Denver’s hugs. Never again know the comforting haze of Gray’s presence. Or hear Brian’s husky laugh over the phone. All to stay with Jorlan for a time.
“I’m sorry,” she told him, casting her gaze to his chest. She didn’t want to see his eyes, didn’t want to see whether they darkened with disappointment or froze with indifference as she declined. “I can’t marry you, and I can’t go with you. My family is here.”
He nodded briskly, as if he understood what motivated her, but didn’t like it. “I will give you time to think on it.”
Now her gaze snapped to his. “I don’t need time. I just gave you my answer.”
“That answer is not accepted. You need more time, and I am willing to give it to you.”
Part of her wanted to chuckle; part of her wanted to cry. Lord, this was hard, so very hard. Why did saying no have to be this difficult? She knew beyond a doubt that she was staying here, where she belonged. She knew, too, that he would go on without her and feel no remorse. Perhaps that was what hurt the most.
Damn it! Why couldn’t he have been the domineering chauvinist she’d first thought him? But nooo. He turned out to be so much more than a dictatorial tyrant. He turned out to be a Prince Charming. Beneath his “women are subservient” views beat the heart of a mighty yet gentle man whose touch melted her reservations and whose determination was heartening. No, she might not trust him, but she still desired him.
She had to change the subject before she succumbed to tears. “Look, I’m going on my jog—that’s a type of exercise where you run a far length,” she explained at his confused expression. She needed to jog. “While I’m gone, you can change into your new clothes. Yesterday I bought you a pair of pants, some shirts, shoes, and, uh, some underwear. When I get back, we’ll visit the locations on my list.”
“I must insist I jog with you.”
At first, she wanted to refuse him. Then she realized that getting oxygen to his brain might actually do him some good. She found his new jogging shoes and handed them to him. “Sure you can keep up? I run every morning, and you’re battling a mighty hangover.”
“I will do more than keep up, katya, I will leave you far behind.”
He would, would he? His confidence helped her forget her sadness. Too, her competitive nature sprang to life. “Why don’t you prove it, then?”
“Always you demand proof. Well, this proof I will derive much pleasure in giving, for I long to see the expression on your face when the jog ends and you realize I have passed you. Twice.” With that, he pulled on his shoes and led her out the door.
The race was on.
Twenty minutes ticked by, and she held her own. They didn’t speak, so absorbed were they in their competition. They ran down a zigzag path a mile from her house. The path circled Earlywine Park and was designated specifically for runners. All around them the trees were radiant with shades of brown and green, and here and there pink-tipped flowers bloomed prettily. Twigs snapped beneath their pounding shoes. Dew kissed the air.
Another five minutes passed under the strenuous pace. Never slowing, Jorlan removed his shirt and draped it over his shoulders. She opened her mouth to complain, but the words froze in her throat. His deeply tanned, muscled chest was glazed with a sheen of sweat, and beads of the liquid were dripping along the ridges of his abdomen. The sight distracted her. She stumbled. Chuckling, he increased his speed and moved ahead of her. Katie glared at his back. He’d done that on purpose, the cheater.
By now, her muscles were burning with every step, but she too quickened her steps until she caught up with him. Another ten minutes passed. She was tiring, but didn’t slow. Jorlan showed no signs of slowing, either, damn him.
“Are we going to run forever?” she snapped, huffing and hating herself for it.
“I can,” was his casual reply.
“Well, so can I,” she growled and called forth every ounce of stamina she possessed. This man was not going to beat her!
But damn it all, there had to be a way to end this.
An idea immediately formed, and she wasn’t surprised by the speed with which her mind was working. With all the oxygen pumping through her, she could have calculated the atomic mass of an elephant while devising a plan to end world hunger.
“Race you to the house. Last one there has toilet duty.” With that, she took off full speed ahead.
He tried to pass her left side, but she veered in front of him, blocking his way. He moved to the right, but she had been anticipating the action and swerved to cut him off once again. Katie beat him to the door by half a second and nearly tripped over the newspaper lying on her porch. She managed to catch herself in time. “Ha! I won.” The words left her throat on short, choppy gasps of air. She would have laughed in his face, but her chest felt like a volcano churning with lava.
“You did not play fair, katya.” He sounded winded.
“Of course I didn’t play fair, Jorlan. Where’s the fun in that?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but a car eased up her driveway, diverting his attention. Her alien immediately mutated into I-will-save-you superhero mode. Only when the car parked behind her truck and Gray emerged from the driver’s seat did Jorlan relax. Her brother, however, looked stony and hard. A little hungover, but ready for battle all the same.
Katie’s smile of welcome evaporated. “Gray? Is everything all right?”
He ignored her. Another man exited the car, and Gray spoke to him in hushed, angry tones. The man was an inch or two shorter than Gray, which put him only a bit taller than Katie. He had dark-brown hair and big puppy-dog eyes. Women probably went crazy for him. Had Katie met him a day ago, she might have gone crazy for him, too—at least for the first date. Now her thoughts were consumed with the warrior beside her.
Gray moved to the porch. He didn’t make any introductions. He got straight to the point. “I want to talk to you about