A waitress set down a pitcher full of strong barley beer, avoiding Raziel who thumped Keilor with bruising enthusiasm. "I have only one question," he said, spinning a chair around and straddling it. "What are you doing here when you could be bedding her?"

"Who?" Keilor asked with a frown, totally in the dark and a little annoyed at the pounding. What were these fools going on about?

"Your wife, you fool!" Raziel retorted, taking a swig of amber beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "The symbol's off her door."

Keilor froze. It had still been there when he'd walked by, just an hour ago. "What?"

Raziel smirked. "The stubborn woman has finally come around. Go get her!"

Wary, yet hopeful, Keilor rose from the table with the merry jests and naughty suggestions of his friends ringing in his ears. Could it really be this easy?

CHAPTER 25.

Keilor entered his wife's room as though it were his own and caught her unaware.

Jasmine spun around to face him from her position at the fountain. "Keilor," she said somewhat uncertainly. She flinched when he shut the door-hard.

"You do realize," he told her sternly, "that you only get one chance at divorce."

She swallowed hard and nodded. Arms wrapped around herself, she shifted, causing the white satin of her dress to mold around her slack hip and thigh. "I...should not have..." She bit her lip and said in a rush, "I shouldn't have done it, and it wasn't fair-" she broke off and stared at him nervously.

His eyes narrowed with suspicion. He'd never seen Jasmine so rattled. Was she afraid? He allowed his eyes to drop for a moment, something he would never do with an enemy, in reassurance. "I told you once that I would never beat you."

She drew in a breath. "There are some things worse than beating." Since she was looking at the floor, rubbing her arms, she missed his sharp look. "That first day, outside the clinic, I thought that since you were rejecting...other things," her face spasmed, betraying pain, "It seemed clear to me that you had no real use for me, either. Other than the obvious," she finished stiffly.

Torn between compassion and anger, he fought to contain his temper. "I explained myself."

"You did," she jumped to agree. "But...what my ears hear and my brain understands doesn't always make it to my...heart." She spoke the word *heart' with great difficulty, almost as if she'd rather skim over the entire explanation.

"You doubt my love," Keilor said, and her hesitation and heightened breathing set his teeth on edge. His left hand wrapped around his sword hilt, the index finger tapping out his displeasure. Did all married men suffer these grievances, or was he simply unlucky?

Still she refused to look at his face. "You warned me, so I won't blame you if you don't want...." Taking a shaky breath, she rushed out, "I'm pregnant already." Finally she turned her white face to him.

He stared at her belly, his thoughts stalled on that one word.

She must have taken his dumbfounded expression completely wrong, for she blurted out, tears in her voice, "I can go back to my world and have the baby there, and you won't have to worry about us messing up your life. Really. We-"

She broke off as he drifted to her, unable to take in her words at first. Realization of what she was saying hit just as his palm flattened over her stomach.

His head snapped up. "You will do no such thing. I will not have my wife and child wandering around a hostile alien world without me. You are staying here, my child is staying here, and no more words will ever cross your lips denying me my rights, do you understand?"

Heartbreaking, bewildered eyes blinked at him. "You want us?" she whispered, as if a louder tone might break his trance and cause him to change his mind. "After what I did, you still...?"

He crushed her to him, touching her for the first time in far too long. "Woman...." Words failed him. He stroked her hair, kissed the top of her head. "Dragonfly, I told you I wanted children, didn't I? Why would you think I would reject my own child?" She started to cry, and then he understood. Her mother.

"Thundering rains." He picked her up like a child and sat down on the couch with her in his lap. What damage had she suffered before coming to him? Stroking her hair in a soothing rhythm, he cradled her, saying, "I am Keilor, and no one who came before. You know me, Dragonfly. Would I do these things you accuse me of?"

A shuddering breath escaped her, and she shook her head against him, sniffing. "No."

He made her sit up and look at him. "Would I-no, look at me and don't think of another," he chided her when her gaze turned inward. "Would this man you know send his baby away? His son or his daughter? His wife?" he finished softly, letting a trace of the hurt he felt color his voice.

"No," she answered, just as softly, and rested her head against his. "I'm sorry."

He sighed. "We'll put it down to pregnancy. Breeding woman are known to do all manor of odd things." She scowled at him, and he smiled, glad to see a return of her spirit.

He stood up and carried her to the bed, laying her on top of the quilt and arranging the light blanket folded at the bottom over her. "Rest for a little while. I'll be back to join you very soon, but first I have to speak to Jayems." He kissed her. "I won't be long."

"I won't allow harm to come to them."

Jayems cocked his head. "Since when do you think I became capable of sentencing an innocent woman and an infant to death?" He smiled faintly. "Not to mention the trouble I would have just getting to her. I assume you have Raziel and Isfael guarding her again?"

Keilor nodded, smiling as he remembered the shock and relief, and then the congratulations his friends had offered. Isfael had teased him, thanking him for not getting her pregnant before their adventures in the swamp. "If she's this grumpy with her husband, I'd hate to think what we would have suffered if she'd been breeding in the swamps."

Serious again, he pointed out, "The others are not likely to support us, Jayems. The law is an old one."

"And foolish." Jayems removed his feet from his desk and reached for a document. "Take a look at this," he said, handing the sheaf of papers to Keilor.

Keilor scanned it quickly. Brows raised, he asked, "Are they serious?"

Jayems nodded. "The Symbiont people wish to open negotiations with the Haunt. If I send an affirmative reply, their representatives will be here within two weeks. Your wife would make the ideal ambassador," he suggested.

There was silence as Keilor considered the implications. The Haunt could hardly afford to alienate Jasmine under those circumstances. Unfortunately, if he were to allow her involvement, she would be exposed to too much danger. Knightin had not been found. Yesande was on the loose, and his own people might very well attempt to kill her for the crime of carrying a half-breed child.

He did not like his choices.

Eyes closed, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't just keep her hidden away for the rest of her life. She deserved so much more, and for all he knew she'd love to be involved with the Ronin. "The choice shall be hers," he finally said.

Jasmine's eyes got wide with delight. "You mean it?" she breathed. "The Ronin are coming here? I could really be an ambassador?" Keilor nodded in affirmation, and she hugged him with glee. "That's great! Now I can finally be of some use around here. I've got to talk to Jayems." She started to scramble from the bed.

Keilor blocked her with his body and used it to lower her back down to the mattress. One of his knees rested between her thighs, and he allowed just enough of his weight to settle on her to make her eyes flare. "I've been married to you for three months now, yet have only shared your bed twice. Has that been enough for you?" he asked, his eyes smoking.

An involuntary tremor raced through her, and her breathing quickened. She shook her head. "Never enough," she whispered, and it was true. Still, her body stiffened with uncertainty. With all that had come between them, could it still be good? Had Keilor really forgiven her?

Sensing her hesitation, Keilor rolled over on his back, bringing her over him. He kissed her lightly, but with enough hunger to wring a moan from her. He settled back with his hands laced behind his head. With a wicked grin, he told her, "I'm all yours, Dragonfly. Do your worst."

Eyes dark with feminine power drifted down his body, and her eyebrow quirked. "My worst, huh? Are you certain you can take it?"

His grin widened. "Oh, I can take it, love, but can you?" His hips heaved once, bringing his arousal against her, and she cried out at the sudden rush of flame. He subsided with a naughty smile.

Challenged, Jasmine sat up and slowly unfastened the gold clasps holding her sleeveless gown at the shoulders, letting the white silk fall to reveal the flaming red overnji, minus a bandeau, underneath. Keilor's eyes widened, and he started to reach for her. She grabbed his wrists and forced them back behind his head, leaning just out of reach.

"I have been weeks without you," he growled in warning, staring at her breasts. This could not be part of their game. He had not envisioned such a wicked cheat when he'd proposed the match. How was he to keep his hands off her?

"You started it," she taunted, holding his wrists and slithering down his body to reach one sensitive ear. Her hot tongue darted out to trace the edges and then darted into the center, wringing a groan from him. He tried to turn his head to capture her mouth, but instead she forced his face aside with her head and took his lobe in her mouth, deliberately making sexy little moans.

Fiery kisses trailed down his throat, and she sucked on the sensitive skin and released his wrists to slowly unbuckle his vest. He could have done it in a quarter of the time, but nothing he could have done would have matched the fever she created as she lightly dragged her nails down his chest. They flowed across his ribs and down his ridged abdomen to separate and score his thighs.

It was outside of enough. Quicker than thought, Keilor rolled her under him and began to devour her. Lips, breasts and belly fell willing victims to his voracious hunger, and when he finally rid them of unnecessary clothing, his wife was as hungry as he, and just as demanding. All differences were forgotten in the hot rush of pleasure, and Jasmine's reserve couldn't stand before the tidal wave of pleasure her husband called forth. What barrier was fear to the power of lightning?

In many ways, their marriage really began that night. They talked about the past, their future...

"I've never asked. What kind of schooling do kids get here?" Jasmine inquired, snuggling against her bare husband.

"Mathematics, science, history, horticulture," Keilor answered, his hand tracing distracting patterns on her arm. "Some art, animal science, domestic skills..." His lips dusted kisses under her collarbone, above the blanket. "...two years of military service for the males and then trade school."

Jasmine scowled and pushed him back. "Are you saying women aren't taught trades?" she asked, indignant.

Sighing, he propped his head on his arm and answered, "Women may learn whatever they choose and are encouraged to do so. It is only that many marry and begin families of their own, and it's difficult to care for children and work at a trade, too."

"Hmm." She pursed her lips in thought, and Keilor leaned over to take advantage of her momentary quiet, but she beat him to the punch. "If the baby's a boy, I suppose you'll want to stick a sword in his hand and throw him up on a stag as soon as he can walk, huh?"

Slightly exasperated, he tugged her to him, levering himself over her body. "Not for the first five years," he answered, tossing his dark hair over his shoulder and out of the way. Then he slid home, cutting off all further questions for the next half hour.

It wasn't until the next morning that they returned to questions of children and domestic life, and this time it was Keilor who brought it up.

"Today would be a good day to choose new rooms," he said over breakfast. He waited to see her reaction.

Jasmine paused in the act of drenching her hot cereal with nut cream. Slowly she resumed, spooning a good quantity of brown date sugar over the cream. "Won't that be kind of expensive?"

His brows shot up. "I am entitled to any rooms I choose to make my own, lady wife, as are you." His lips twitched. "Free of rent." A soft sound of derision escaped her, but she looked uneasy. "Jasmine," he said, reaching for her hand. "What is it? I can assure you we don't live on charity." He searched her eyes. "Would it ease your mind if I told you that I own the patent to the energy blades, passed down to me from my grandfather, or that half the stags in the citadel's stables are mine?"

Her lips parted in surprise. Enjoying her naivete because it marked her disinterest in his financial affairs until they directly concerned her, unlike so many others, he continued, "I intend to provide you with a regular quarterly allowance, as well as any additional money you may require."

He named an amount that made her goggle. "That's...I couldn't spend that much in a year, Keilor," she rasped.

"Not if you don't get out and start shopping," he teased, choosing to ignore her reaction. He had confidence that, being a woman, she'd not only learn to spend her allowance, but quickly wheedle him into giving her more. Not that he would begrudge it. "As soon as we're done eating, I'll take you for a walk through the marketplace. Would you like that?"

Her eyes lit up, but in spite of her excitement, she didn't eat much of her breakfast.

Frowning at the half full bowl, he asked, "Shouldn't you be eating more than that?"

"I'm a little queasy."

Concerned, he looked away for a moment, not wanting her to recognize his sudden fear. "We'll stop by the clinic first. I want to make certain that you're...that everything will be all right."

She smiled in reassurance. "I wouldn't worry about it. After all, what could go wrong?"

"I don't want her worried," Keilor informed the medic outside the examining room door. "If the baby makes it here in good health, fine. But I can't see how tormenting her with dire predictions would do anything but harm."

The medic didn't even blink. "As you wish. At the moment there is no sign of rejection. The symbiont is taking care of that. There are no guarantees the child won't have problems after its birth, however. Once contact between its mother and her symbiont is severed, anything can happen."

Keilor nodded sharply. He understood too well.

There had been a few rare children conceived between Haunt and human in the days when they still shared a world, but none had ever survived the forth month. The genetic differences were just too great, the mother's body too alien to support the mysterious changes the infant underwent at that time. It was a fear he hadn't shared with Jasmine, believing that the other-very valid-reasons he'd given her would suffice. Her life was too precious to him to needlessly put in jeopardy.

Now matters had been taken out of his hands. But he could spare his wife from grief that might only hasten the inevitable.

With a forced smile, Keilor entered the examining room with the medic and put an arm around his wife while the medic told her that all was well. It was true.

For now.

"Great!" Jasmine hopped off the table. "Then let's go shopping!"

CHAPTER 26.

Jasmine couldn't believe she'd spent so much time at the citadel and was only now getting to see the marketplace. Some of the shops were indoors, but many were set up in booths outside. The wide streets were busy, but not crowded, and the shoppers courteous.

Delicious smells teased her nose, and splashes of red braided chilies caught her eye. Making her way across the flagstones to the first booth, she admired the long, beautiful braids of orange, yellow, green, black and scarlet dried peppers, garlic and onions, and savored the scent of wreaths and bundles of sage, lavender and bay leaf, as well as herbs she didn't recognize.

Smiling with delight, she picked up a bottle of vinegar packed with artfully arranged slices of clove pierced lemons, and another of herbs, garlic and chilies, admiring the pretty tones of the liquid. Then a two foot high bottle of kumquat vinegar caught her eye, and she knew she had to have it. "It would make the most beautiful living room decoration," she told her husband with excitement. "Can we get it?"

Keilor eyed the jar askance and shook his head, smiling at the hopeful merchant. "Whatever she wants," he said.

They left with half the booth on its way to their room.

A wide smile on her face, Jasmine explored the vegetable and fruit stands, exclaiming over the many different kinds of produce for sale, and purchasing quite a few. The jewelers received a quick glance, but it was the display of sparkling crystals at the next stall that captured her attention. She chose a snowflake prism from that collection.

By the time they'd watched a weaver working on a tapestry, seen a glassblower create a rose and green swirled goblet, and witnessed a potter at her wheel, Keilor was looking rather peaked, though he never said a word. Taking pity on him, Jasmine suggested, "Why don't we take a break? I'm starving."

Visibly relieved, Keilor took her hand and led her through the crowd. He chose a restaurant with wide windows and a pleasant odor of sweetness and steaming seafood. Mouth watering, she surveyed the buffet. Mounds of snowy shellfish, swimming with vegetables, orange crustaceans arranged on leaves of kale, and seafood salads in bright red and white radicchio bowls tempted her as breakfast hadn't. Avoiding the tentacled dish and what looked suspiciously like jellyfish, Jasmine loaded a plate with moist baked fish smothered in lemon sauce, enough stir fry and crustacean to sink a fishing boat and retired to a table to await Keilor.

"Hungry, are you?" Keilor asked with amusement when Jasmine began wolfing down her second large plate of food.

She stopped in mid-bite to glare at him. "Watch it, buster. I'm just making up for breakfast."

In the interests of continued domestic bliss, he changed the subject. "Would you like to choose new rooms after this? We'll need somewhere to put all these acquisitions."

Eyes wide with worry, she stopped eating. "Am I getting too much? I know we didn't really need that rug, but-"

"I like the rug," he assured her, "And I wouldn't mind if you bought a hundred of them, but..." He smiled ruefully, "I'm afraid I lack your stamina for shopping." The smile turned mischievous. "I'm sure Isfael and Raziel will love it, though."

Jasmine snorted. "Somehow, I doubt it, but never mind. I can always come back with Rihlia." She frowned. "I presume we're on speaking terms again."

"I wouldn't worry over it. After all, pregnant women do odd things," Keilor answered, looking at her over his mug of steaming sage tea.

Chagrined, Jasmine finished her meal in silence.