Lucan did not swallow the wine. In fact, the liquid barely touched his lips. He watched Isadora's back as she dropped the robe and began to unfasten the undergarment that bound her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He quietly poured a small portion of the wine onto the rug at the foot of the bed, aiming for a wide dark blue stripe that would not show the spilled wine. She was smart enough to look at his gla.s.s and realize that he had not consumed whatever drug she'd intended for him, if he didn't dispose of more than a few drops.

Isadora's body was elegant, well-shaped and strong, with fine, flawless skin and gentle flowing lines and curves, much as it had been in his dreams. Why did she not see why he would prefer her over a trained concubine? He did not want s.e.x simply for release. It was the sharing of energy that called to him, the shared pleasure that fed his spirit. Even if Isadora was not in possession of the ring he desired, he would be drawn to her.

Undergarment discarded, she lifted the robe and slipped her arms into the sleeves. Before she had a chance to fasten the b.u.t.tons once again, he placed his winegla.s.s on the table and walked up behind her. His arms circled around her, and his hands slipped into the parted robe and found warm, silky skin.

"I will not allow you to be sorry I asked for you."

HE WAS A big man, and of course the potion would not take effect right away. Isadora closed her eyes as Hern's wide palms settled over her bare flesh. She should not enjoy the feel of those hard hands on her skin, not so much, but she did. Instinctively, she reveled in the touch. It had been such a long time...

"I am already sorry," she whispered, though her body was anything but sorry. It was sheer neglect that made her feel this way, she reasoned. She was tired of being alone, tired of sleeping in a cold bed without touch, without tenderness. Any man's caress, even that of the ugliest and most unpleasant sentinel in the palace, would likely elicit the same physical response. That didn't mean she wanted Lucan Hern's touch.

His hands raked up and cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and his fingers very gently tweaked her nipples. She gasped at the intense response, and when he rubbed his rough palms against the pebbled peaks, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to simply experience that which he offered. After all, he would soon be insensible, so there would be nothing between them but this touch. There was no reason to fear something that would not, could not, happen.

She expected him to falter, to grow weary, but the caress continued. In fact, his touch on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and her stomach grew bolder and more sure. Her knees began to go weak. The room grew hot.

The room grew so hot that when Hern drew the robe down and let it fall to the floor, she didn't protest or try to cover herself. The cool air against her flesh felt good. His hands on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and his hard body pressed against her back felt even better, and between her legs she throbbed. Heaven above, she wanted him.

"You drugged me," she said, unable to protest too loudly.

"I did not."

She hadn't eaten or drunk anything here in this room. Maybe her simple supper, eaten hours ago, had contained a potion to elicit pa.s.sion, or else Hern had coated the purple robe she'd worn so briefly with a poisonous compound that made her react this way. The intensity, the unexpected delight, the need... it couldn't be real.

"You're very beautiful," he whispered as he moved her hair aside so he could lay his mouth on her shoulder.

The touch of Hern's mouth on her skin made Isadora gasp, and she almost reeled against him. "I'm not beautiful, not like-"

"You are," he interrupted before she could finish her protest.

For a moment, just a moment, she allowed herself to believe that she was truly beautiful. She allowed herself to believe that the man who touched her thought she was beautiful. Hern caressed her as if she were precious and fragile, as if he had a great regard for how she reacted to his touch. Fingers traced skin that had been untouched for such a long time, and she felt each fingertip to the center of her being.

Any moment now Captain Hern was going to pa.s.s out, so she did not worry about where this dangerous exploration might end. She just enjoyed the caress of his hands and the illusion of beauty. She felt his arousal pressing into her backside, and yet he did not seem to be in any hurry. Perhaps Hern thought they had all night; it was best that he continue to believe that was true.

He said he did not possess patience, but his hands and his mouth moved with a determined laziness. Isadora found herself leaning against him, falling back while his hands caressed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and he kissed her neck and her shoulder with talented lips that aroused her. She seemed to be caught in a hazy world that consisted of only sensation. Sensation that wafted through her body and befogged her usually clear mind.

When Hern laid his hand low on her stomach, she had a fleeting and horrible and unexpected thought: Don't pa.s.s out before this is done.

He turned her in his arms, and she did not protest. He lifted her easily and laid her on the bed, and still wearing his long purple robe, he came with her. His hands spread her legs, gently and yet forcefully, and he ran long fingers along the tender skin of her inner thighs. Up and down, not quite touching her where she throbbed for him, he caressed her.

Isadora was not a shy, retiring maiden who was ashamed for a man to look upon her as Hern now did. She would not pull the covers over her body and hide from him, not when he so obviously liked what he saw. Not when she was a fully grown woman who did not shy away from anything or anyone.

The mouth that had kissed her neck and her shoulder so well brushed against her belly, and Hern trailed his tongue there. He kissed his way up her torso, finally finding and capturing one nipple and drawing it deep into his warm mouth. Isadora threaded her fingers through his black curls and arched up into him. The sensations he awakened danced through her entire body, from the top of her head to the toes that curled.

If he stopped now she would die.

Her breath came hard and just short of gasping, and when he laid his hand between her legs, she bucked slightly and moved against his caress. The tip of his finger made small, quick circles against a very sensitive place, while his mouth moved from one breast to the other. She arched up against him, against his mouth and his hand, and he slipped a finger inside her... and then another.

The o.r.g.a.s.m should not have caught her by surprise, but it did. It came quick and hard, and she cried out while release whipped through her body. Not only where he touched her, but everywhere... from her head to the toes that curled, to the center of her femininity where long unused muscles clenched and released. She grabbed a handful of dark, curling hair, as Hern continued to draw her nipple into his mouth. As her movements slowed, so did his. As her senses returned to her, he lifted his head and looked her in the eye.

"By the way, love," he whispered, "I didn't actually drink any of the wine."

ISADORA'S EYES WIDENED, but she didn't try to escape. He had expected some response to his touch, but he certainly had not expected that reaction to be so wonderfully extreme. Her s.e.xual release fed him, and apparently fed her, as well. The magic he had always sensed around her glowed brighter than ever before.

He took her right hand in his, studied the Star of Bacwyr she wore upon her middle finger, and then took the tip of her finger into his mouth and sucked gently. If he asked her to give him the ring she would, but he wanted her to offer it to him entirely of her own free will. She trembled as he slowly pulled the finger out of his mouth, sucking gently. When that was done, he guided her hand to his erection.

"As you can well see, I have need of my own gratification."

She licked her lips and said nothing.

"What was in the wine? Something to make me ill? To make me impotent? To make me sleep?" A flash

of her dark eyes gave her away. "Sleep it is." He guided her hand up the length of his erection once, before releasing her. "You apparently think very little of me, if you believe I would force myself upon a woman who does not want me."

"You ordered me here, and now you expect me to believe that you care about what I want?" she argued, her voice still softly rasping from the climax. He loved that smoky voice with a surprising intensity. "I see in you the need and the desire to be here. You simply have not seen it for yourself." He rolled away from her quivering body and left the bed. "Until you do, I have no need of you in my bed."

Isadora scrambled off the mattress and grabbed her clothes. She struggled with the undergarment, and after a moment he a.s.sisted her, uninvited. She was so anxious to be dressed and away from him, she did not protest.

"It is that easy?" she asked, still breathless. "You're just going to let me go?"

"Not entirely," Lucan said as he finished with the final hook and eye. "The emperor must believe we are

intimately involved. If he thinks you did not please me tonight, he might be angry with you. That will never do."

Isadora grabbed the pink dress from the floor and stepped into it. The hue looked a bit better on her

now, while she had the flush of a powerful o.r.g.a.s.m coloring her cheeks. "What do you suggest?"

"You will come to my chambers tomorrow night, and the next, and the next, and every night until I return home."

"That could be weeks, if you stay for your brother's wedding!"

"Yes, I know."

Fully dressed, she did her best to restore her dignity. "I suppose you expect to change my mind about

having relations with you."

"Perhaps. Then again, perhaps you will change my mind, and during our evenings together I will be satisfied to enjoy games of cards or scintillating conversations about worldly happenings or philosophy."

"I'm sure," she said dryly as she turned away to leave his quarters.

"Isadora?"

She stopped at the sound of her name and spun around almost angrily. "What?"

Lucan stepped toward her, his pace slow. "I won't force myself upon you, if that's what you're worried

about. I will touch you again, I will make you tremble and scream. But I won't join with you until you ask

it of me."

"How very n.o.ble of you," she said dryly. "I suppose you will send for a girl from Level Three to ease your pain tonight."

"No," he replied honestly. "I don't want any other woman but you, and I will wait until you are ready for

me."

He saw the surprise in her eyes, and then the disbelief. He didn't take offense at her disbelief. Eventually, she would understand.

"Good night, Captain Hern."

"Call me Lucan," he said amiably. "If we are to be lovers, it is only fitting."

She made a gruff sound of displeasure as she opened the door. The sentinels who had escorted her to

him waited. Lucan laid a possessive hand on Isadora's shoulder and looked the eldest of the sentinels in the eye.

"If the emperor happens to ask... she was magnificent."

"SHE IS THE one who will lead us to our goal?"

Lucan nodded and muttered a distant, "Yes," as Franco entered the room. As far as the palace residents were concerned, the amiable young man was a personal manservant who served the visiting Circle

warrior. In truth, Franco was a warrior himself, though he was not as highly placed in the order as Lucan.

In spite of his young age, he was a talented swordsman and possessed a sharp, logical mind.

"I do not trust her," Franco said.

"Neither do I," Lucan replied. "But she is necessary."

Franco's midlength dark blond hair was pulled back into a neat queue, and his uniform was a serviceable

buckskin. The smile and easygoing att.i.tude he a.s.sumed for this role was not entirely a false one; when he was not called to fight, Franco was truly a good-natured fellow.

"What do the servants say?"

Franco laughed lightly as he dropped into a chair and thrust out his long legs. "Very little, I'm afraid. They do not trust me."

"And you have such a trustworthy face." Lucan smiled for the first time since he'd closed the door on Isadora. "I thought you would be able to charm a few secrets out of a chambermaid or two by this time."

"It is early yet," Franco said.

While it was true that Franco was an agreeable sort, the man was as deadly as any warrior in the Circle, and would do whatever was necessary to see the order restored to its glory and power.

"We don't have much time," Lucan reminded the younger man.

"I understand."

After Franco left the room for his own small quarters nearby, Lucan prepared for bed as usual, first with

physical exercises to burn the energy that glowed within him, and then with the hroryk elde, to still hismind and spirit. Neither was entirely successful in cleansing him of Isadora's influence, but they did calm him to a certain degree.

He wished, as he doused candles, that he would not dream of Isadora tonight. She was a means to an end, a necessity, as he had informed Franco just a short while ago.

He could have finished what he'd started when he'd made her tremble and buck beneath him, naked but for the ring as she had been in his dreams before tonight. She had wanted him then. Her body had been ready and willing to take his. And if he had asked for all she had to give, she would have said yes without hesitation.

And yet, he had known even as she lay trembling on his bed that she was not ready for what he wanted from her.