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  Even though telepathic communication was easy for them, it wasn’t thoughts or words that flowed freely between them. What they shared with relentless clarity was feelings, as though a floodgate had opened between two souls. It allowed an exchange that went both ways.

  The exchange felt natural, as if her body and mind were meant to communicate with her partner on this level and she’d just forgotten how.

  Kenna snapped her thoughts to a screeching halt. Partner? Where did that strange word come from? Partner was a weak word for the one she should have used there.

  Oh my God! She couldn’t bring herself to even think the other word that went so naturally in that thought. This deep emotional connection to Lore could only end in… She didn’t know what. What possible outcome would be a good one?

  What attracted her to Lore had nothing to do with his station or wealth. And she had been attracted long before she’d been forced to contact him. Since entering this strange little country, she’d be battling the constant need to open her mind to him. He gave her relief from the overwhelming psychic burden of reading every thought and emotion around her. He offered peace by simply reaching for her mentally. She needed him just to remain sane.

  There was something else she couldn’t escape. If these strangers found out who Grandmother claimed she was, they would get rid of her in the really bad sense of the words. And it was the guy she kept climbing who had the most to lose.

  Chapter Three

  Fear, panic, exhaustion, they all rushed to the surface and wrapped around her neck. The heavy weight of impossible emotions squeezed down on her windpipe. She couldn’t breathe. Kenna couldn’t make a sound as she clutched her throat. Julianna was turned away, folding her jeans, and never saw Kenna’s hands grasp her throat.

  Immediately Lore was there. Clothed only in tights that molded powerful thighs and disappeared into period boots, he dragged her against his chest.

  “Breathe! Slow and easy, baby.” His command cut through her panic, his lips talking into the top of her head. “That’s it. It’s all right. Stop scaring yourself. What the hell were you thinking?”

  His gentle crooning and the overwhelming tide of concern that washed through her panic effectively diluted it. He didn’t exactly invade her mind, but there was no question he would if she hadn’t responded. His grip on her mentally, though gentle and soothing, was firm and much more direct than it had been five minutes ago.

  As oxygen rushed into her brain, Kenna found she was losing the ability to focus anyway. Lore holding her mostly naked body against the heavily muscled chest created a whole new set of problems. Fear faded into awareness of how deeply she felt every inch of him.

  Lore leaned back to look into her face, hands caressing the cool cream of her skin. It was a bitch to ignore the fact that they’d gotten her out of everything but bra and panties, but his little witch needed to know she could trust him, naked or not. “Kenna, look at me, baby,” he commanded softly. She had smashed her face into his bare chest when he’d grabbed her. Now she seemed reluctant to move.

  “Lore, we’ve known each other for little more than a few hours,” she hissed. “How can I need you, want you like this? I can hardly stop myself from wrapping my legs around your hips. I know what sex is. I know what desire is. I don’t know what this is. This is more…” Her voice trailed off into his chest and she started to tremble.

  “Baby, look at me. I need you to hear me.” Lore inserted an insistent knuckle under her chin and turned her face up to his. He knew he’d been unable to hide the possessive male response to her acknowledgement. She wasn’t trying to pretend their sexual connection was normal.

  “Kenna, listen to me and feel my intent as you hear the words. I know what’s between us is strange, but understand this—I have never had this type of connection with anyone else. It’s about us and it’s about our gifts. We’ve been intimately connected for over three days now, not an hour. What we share is so far beyond what normal people do to get to know each other that none of those rules apply.”

  His other hand caressed her back, and the one from under her chin soon joined it. There was no help for it, his hands slid down to cuddle a perfect ass that fit in his palms so sweetly. This was who they were, where they were. He wasn’t going to pretend differently, but he also needed her to see that it wasn’t a threat. He was hers as much as she was his.

  “I will not allow anything to harm you. Feel it in me, Kenna. Trust me. I am yours as much as you are mine. I can’t escape this any more than you can. I don’t want to.

  “Right now several thousand people are waiting for me to appear. There are people from China, the Soviet Union, America, Germany and France whom I personally invited. They represent companies this county would like to convince to invest here. New technology has shown huge natural resources that will change this region’s future. Controlling how that happens is as dangerous as the mad man hunting you. We need the terrorist to see you. Calm, beautiful you. The corporate vultures have to see strength in me.”

  Lore regarded her in silence a moment. “You’re worried and afraid…” He stopped as he thought better of pointing out the obvious. Fighting her fear with what was right about this seemed like a much better tactic.

  “I will not let him have you. You know I can’t. I don’t think he knew what would happen when he pushed you. I mean simply being a telepath is way different from the connection we are involved in. Together we make something new, honey.

  “As the king, I have to get us in front of that crowd. You as visible as possible are our best chance at keeping him from detonating. As a man, I want nothing more than to cover you with my body in every way there is. Not just sex, Kenna. It’s much more than that.”

  His arms loosened. His hands rose up her back until fingers threaded through her hair on either side of her face. Kenna’s continued fear and confusion were the strongest emotions in her. Her hold on control was difficult.

  “Don’t let fear dictate our relationship. That gives the sick bastard control of us, baby. We get to choose what happens next, not him. Trust me.”

  “Lore,” Kenna breathed, and let her eyes close for a second. That one word was consent.

  There was no need to guess how much of what he said was the truth. Feeling his determination, the sharp surge of power that he’d repressed when he’d thought of her in the hands of their enemy, all of it flowed between them. If she had to measure anything in him, it was how much he was trying to water down his responses.

  Kenna didn’t have the strength to fight what she’d just seen in him. But more than that, she didn’t want to. What she did want was unclear, hard to untangle in any coherent way.

  She smiled and knew it was a little sad. He wanted her trust, had to have it for this to work. What would he want when he figured out who she was? There was no time to explain why she was afraid. “Go get dressed. Julianna and I will be finished in a minute. I understand we have to get out there on time. So go,” she repeated as he bent to kiss her.

  The kiss was brief, a show of control. Lore let go reluctantly. Her smile was fragile but he felt her sincerity, and if he didn’t get his hands off her, that control he was trying to comfort her with would evaporate. Leaving her was fucking difficult, he drew away quickly.

  As he disappeared around the curtain, Julianna made a snappish sound. It was a cross between a tsk and an exclamation. It sounded quite final as if things were settled. Kenna eyed her warily, not sure what to expect from the witness to this strange scene.

  Julianna swept into motion. Kenna’s bra was swiftly removed and a filmy, white cotton underdress pulled on. A loose tie gathered the wide neck that draped over her shoulders and form-fitting sleeves ended in a point at the back of Kenna’s hands. Her middle finger slid through a little loop to keep the points in place.

  A buttercup-yellow overdress was next. Its bodice came up in a wide square neckline to just cover her nipples, which would have been visible through the thin cotton of the under
dress. The lovely raw silk laced up tightly in back from hips to shoulder blades. It outlined her willowy figure as it emphasized a tempting glimpse of tightly constrained breasts through the gauzy cover. The laced-up bodice presented alluring cleavage.

  Julianna worked in silence. Pulling the bodice tight, lacing up the fastenings, she tsked several times and grabbed a needle and thread to do something quick and magical that adjusted the dress to fit as if it’d been made for Kenna. Kenna’s long hair was brushed out and a filmy wimple settled over her head to flow down her back. Julianna then pressed a golden circlet onto the crown of Kenna’s head. Its graceful point settled in the center of her forehead as it held the period headdress in place.

  Hose and flat shoes in the correct size appeared. Kenna’s estimation of Julianna’s magic touch increased with that. A full skirt flared around Kenna’s legs. The raw silk was adorned with a thick band of gold-threaded embroidery at both hemline and neckline. A golden belt of braided metallic strands settled around Kenna’s hips to knot just above her pubic mound. The remaining lengths of belt hung down to almost touch the ground.

  This temporary dressing room lacked a mirror so Kenna watched Julianna as she stepped back and looked Kenna over critically then curtseyed deeply.

  “You look lovely, my lady,” Julianna said in accented English.

  “Good grief, Julianna, what’s with the English now? You could have told me you speak it.” Kenna grabbed Julianna’s hand to pull her up. Her tone laughed and chided at the same time.

  Julianna straightened and smiled. “Do not worry. My lips are sealed. I offer my services. As the oldest daughter descendent of Zsofi Tosh, it would be a great honor to serve you again, my lady.”

  Kenna chuckled. “I’m American. We don’t do titles. I would be grateful for any help you’re willing to offer. This dress is lovely and what you did to make it fit is incredible.”

  “Of course it fits, my lady. It is dress made for the likeness of Queen Annedrine. Kindly go. My lord awaits.” She physically turned Kenna and pushed her out from behind the curtain.

  Being rushed out of the dressing enclosure, Kenna didn’t have time to puzzle over Julianna’s offer of service and how that might be related to some ancestor she was claiming.

  As Kenna faced Lore, he sucked in a silent breath. The vision she created in period clothing was both wickedly appealing and innocently entrancing. The dress caused her skin to glow. Her figure was outlined in the most flattering way imaginable with its teasing display of creamy breasts and tightly constrained bodice that faithfully formed her supple shape.

  Lore stood very still, waiting for her visual impact to subside. It wasn’t happening fast enough. It hadn’t seemed possible that her effect on him could get stronger. Again Lore had been wrong. Men were visual creatures, and looking at Kenna caused the primitive within to throw himself at the restraints of control. Wanting this woman was becoming an exercise in willpower.

  He didn’t need the emotional connection to see a flash of fear. She was reading the suffocating waves of sexual aggression he must be putting out. Her lower lip caught beneath white teeth as she visibly shifted to wariness. The pretty little creature was looking at the predator, unsure if she were lunch.

  He couldn’t force himself to look away, smile or do any damn thing that might reassure her. All he could give her was the connection between them. Yes, he wanted her, but more than that, he’d go to war to make sure no one harmed her, even himself.

  Moving slowly to keep from being threatening, Lore stepped forward to capture her hand and brought it to his lips. The brief homage of kissing her hand was the assurance she needed, her acceptance of his response stroked the salivating side of him and they both calmed as he tucked her hand under his arm.

  “Ready?” he asked, leading her into the passageway.

  Kenna nodded. Her breathing was shallow as she absorbed his response to her, but her hand tightened on his arm. That little indication of trust shot through his other responses and he realized he was proud of her. The strength this woman displayed had become personal to him.

  For security reasons, the entrance from the tent to the royal stands was covered. It was a short, private walk. Physically touching added intensity to the response they triggered in each other. Kenna was glad for the few seconds to adjust to it.

  “What’s after this?” Kenna asked softly while glancing at the security entourage following them. “When do we get off stage?”

  “After the reception that follows the joust,” he replied. “All together it should take around three hours. I promise you can rest after that.” His hand covered hers on his forearm with slight pressure. “I know this is tough, lean on me.”

  At the appearance of the king, the crowd roared. Lore stepped to the front and waved for the cheering throng. He turned and held out his hand to Kenna who had remained out of view.

  The crowd quieted as the king invited someone to join him. Everyone expected it to be Gregory Karoly Leionoff, first advisor of Kersonov and the king’s constant companion when he appeared before them. The lady who stepped up beside the king elicited a gasp followed by stunned silence as she raised her head and looked at them.

  At the silence, Kenna looked to Lore in concern. Something was wrong. Thousands of people were standing there gaping at her. What was it? Had she done something inappropriate?

  Lore smiled gently as he bent and touched his lips to hers and the crowd went wild. The volume of shrieking, thundering applause was deafening as he lifted his head and smiled at her.

  “Wave to them,” he instructed softly.

  Kenna turned to the screaming, stomping and applauding crowd. Lore waved with her while he held her other hand securely in his.

  “What’s with them?” she asked as they waved. “Is it always like this?”

  “No. It’s never this way,” he responded. “In costume, you resemble the queen this festival commemorates.”

  “The chick who vanished in violent events,” Kenna commented.

  “Interesting,” Lore mused. “Not quite the same conflict, but the same threat happening on the same ground, seven hundred years later but still the same day.”

  “Interesting isn’t what I’d call it,” Kenna murmured as they turned to take their seats. Not really seats. The chairs were faithful replicas of those used by heads of state in the early Middle Ages.

  “If you ask me, it’s exactly the same events given modern definitions,” she continued. “Last time it was directly following the Third Crusade and the Mongols were a horrific threat. They destroyed everything—women, children, livestock, crops, everything. But in this one place they came and only took the queen, ignoring the rest of the population. I really don’t like how this went last time,” she finished softly.

  “Good thing you’re not the queen.” Lore grinned down at her worried face. He had to agree, it was eerily similar. The attempt at humor didn’t calm her though.

  “Yeah,” Kenna agreed dryly. “Good thing.”

  Kenna looked away and tried to drag her thoughts off the morbid certainty that every bit of Grandmother’s stories had been true, making her the descendent of that unfortunate woman. The similarities didn’t end with her being the blood of one of the principals involved in that long-ago kidnapping. Lore was without doubt the descendent of the king her ancestor had been in the act of marrying when the Mongolians stormed the cathedral and kidnapped her. All she had to do was look up a little to see the spires of that same cathedral.

  Same blood, same players. She couldn’t be sure about their opponent though. Who knew if he were a long-lost relative of the feared invaders?

  The formal thrones did not allow Lore to put an arm around her and it bothered him. The cocktail of possessive protectiveness and physical hunger was growing at an uncomfortable rate. Each moment that passed it became more difficult to remember the woman beside him was technically a stranger.

  He knew when she looked at the tray of food and wanted something to eat
or drink. Supplying those comforts before she voiced them surprisingly took the edge off his drive to hold, possess and just flat out drag her into a cave and block the entrance. Not to imprison her, no, to secure her safety.

  Kenna was doing her best to keep up, but fear and exhaustion were both taking a toll. His need to protect was so sharply focused on her that sensing her natural struggle dealing with the conflict created an anger response. He didn’t want her to read the anger. She needed safety and confidence from him.

  They appeared to be watching the events, but in reality they were both concealing tension that kept cranking up. Kenna could feel him and it would have been frightening if she weren’t very sure all that power was on her side at this moment.

  Deep down his emotions boiled, but on the outside he was icy calm. Marveling at the contradiction kept her mind off what she was hiding as well, but it wasn’t a good solution. The contact point of their hands kept her constantly tuned in to the relentless sexual tension.

  He thought he was shielding her. Honestly, he was doing his best, and she knew it. The calm, attentive man holding her hand and enjoying the spectacle before them was a good act. He was working at giving her the impression of confident security and she appreciated it. What lay beneath was burning her alive. Iron control of his responses did not mean there wasn’t a blast fire at the core of this man. Kenna began to inch her hand out from under his. His hand tightened.

  “No,” he objected quietly.

  “It’d be easier on both of us,” Kenna insisted.

  “No.” Lore took a deep breath and loosened his hold.

  “You’re struggling. It’d give us both a rest from this damn clawing sexuality,” Kenna argued quietly.

  His eyes cut down to her. “Doubtful,” he disagreed in stark simplicity.

  Kenna left her hand under his. The raw attraction was insane. Yet the strength that was ruthlessly reaching for her held him still. The male animal might be raging but the warrior remained in control.

  Her own discomfort burned down her body. This constant sexual buzz inflamed all the most sensitive places. Her breasts ached, but that was nothing compared to the damp, pounding demand that wouldn’t quit between her legs. Shifting, she crossed them for some relief. He hissed a barely audible drawn-in breath and she realized he’d felt what she felt.