Gena Showalter Bundle

CHAPTER TEN

PERCEN DE LOCKE HAD scoured the galaxies for two cycles. Was Jorlan still frozen inside the stone, he wondered, or was his brother now a free man? That he did not know caused frustration to claw at his insides like the sharpest of talons, yet he also felt the first stirring of hope. He had been unable to locate his half brother so far, but he was close enough that he could sense Jorlan’s essence.

Aye, he was close….

AFTER JORLAN DINED on more fried chicken and mashed potatoes than should have been humanly possible, and Katie had consumed a normal amount, they worked six more hours at the Victorian. When she finally decided they’d accomplished enough for one day, her muscles were burning with fatigue. As she drove home, her stomach began churning with anticipation and nerves. All afternoon, she’d imagined making love with Jorlan.

Cool air blasted from the truck’s air conditioner. Katie kept her attention on the road and off the man at her side. Her body was primed for contact, demanding no less than total and complete satisfaction. If she took her brother’s advice, she should drop her clothes the moment she stepped inside her house. Perhaps then Jorlan would take over. He would jerk her into his arms, slam the door shut with his foot, then kiss her into readiness.

The idea thrilled her, brought to mind all the wonderful things they’d done earlier, but once they stepped inside her house, Katie lost her nerve and didn’t give Jorlan a chance to embrace her. She clutched her keys in her hand and inched back into the doorway. “I’ve got an errand to run.”

He turned and faced her, frowning. Was he disappointed? “What type of errand?”

“Be good while I’m gone,” she said, ignoring his question. “No leaving the house. You might get lost.”

His frown deepened, and he opened his mouth to speak.

Quick as a snap, she was on the porch, slamming the door behind her. Quicker still, she shoved her key in the gold clasp, gave a twist of her wrist and effectively clicked the lock in place. Then, she waited. The warm evening breeze penetrated the thin tank top she’d changed into. She watched the high, arching door, praying Jorlan wouldn’t follow her. One minute ticked by, two. The cherry wood remained closed. Relieved, she hopped off the porch and glanced behind her. Her house gleamed in dusk’s fading light. The white stucco, stained glass windows and crenellated rooftop created a pretty, if flashy, sight upon the hilltop.

The drive to the store required a little more than fifteen minutes. Katie strolled down aisle after aisle. She grabbed a pair of sweatpants, two pairs of black slacks and a pair of jeans for Jorlan, thinking—happily—that he would be with her for a bit longer while he tried to win her over. Plus, they still had to find a true psychic. She scrounged through a pile of T-shirts, picking out the largest ones and praying they’d fit a WWE wrestler-type frame. Shoes came next, but she was unsure about size.

If he’s big everywhere else, she thought, it figures his feet are also large. Katie didn’t want to contemplate the direction her thoughts went after that, but she had to. Boxers? Or briefs? Cheeks red, body overheated, she threw a packet of each in the basket.

Next came condoms. There were so many brands, she simply didn’t know which to choose. She reached out to grab a box, any box, then froze. What if her brothers were hiding nearby, waiting to jump out and scream “Boo”? She jerked her chin left and right to make sure no one hovered nearby. Finding herself alone, Katie swiftly gathered up a box of neon-colored ribbed, two boxes of lubricated and a box of nonlubricated. No telling which type Jorlan would favor.

She also snatched up a tube of spermicide and a tube of vaginal lubricant. She wasn’t sure if either was necessary, but wanted to err on the side of caution. Beyond a doubt, Jorlan had been with many, many women—all women who were sophisticated and knew exactly how to please him, she was sure. Katie didn’t want to rate as the worst lover across the galaxies.

Jorlan had once mentioned massage oil and feathers. Perhaps that was a fantasy of his, a fantasy she could fulfill. After finding the oil, she stumbled upon a rainbow-colored feather duster. Perfect.

Hmm, what next? Obviously, Jorlan liked to get kinky. He’d mentioned spanking her once, not that she planned to remind him of that anytime soon. However, Katie didn’t want him to think she couldn’t handle a little bondage, so she marched to the toy aisle and snagged a pair of plastic handcuffs and a parcel of rope. (She decided against the straw cowboy hat.)

At the register, a fierce blush spread like wildfire across her cheeks and collarbone. The sales clerk, a tall, gangly boy of no more than twenty, lifted a box of condoms and gave her an I-know-what-you’re-doing-tonight chuckle, followed shortly by, “Want me to do a price check on this? I think it’s on sale.”

“Uh, no. I’ll pay full price.” Thankfully she would never have to face the guffawing teenager again.

Driving home, Katie wondered just how Jorlan would react to her purchases. Would he give her that slow, bone-melting smile of his, then jerk her into his arms? Oh, yes. That was exactly what he would do, and she didn’t need magic abilities to predict what would happen after that.

Katie parked her car in the driveway and hefted the bags from the passenger seat. She practically floated to the front door—which was unlocked, she noticed, frowning now. Hadn’t she specifically told Jorlan to stay inside?

Just where had her alien warrior gone?

“He better be here,” she muttered fiercely.

Scowling now, she shoved open the front door and marched inside. The first thing she noticed was that the TV volume was up way too high. She could hear multiple male voices laughing, joking and burping. But Jorlan wasn’t in the living room, she soon discovered, and the TV wasn’t on.

The voices were coming from her kitchen.

Katie experienced a flash of confusion and dread. Not knowing what to expect, she gulped and slowly stepped one foot in front of the other until she stood inside the kitchen. When she saw the source of the noise, her eyes widened and her jaw almost dropped to the floor.

“Hey,” her brother Denver called. He sat on the bar stool at the counter, a beer in one hand and a margarita in the other. His bottom lip was swollen and bloody. “Did you come to join the party?”

Before she could answer, her other three brothers called, “Look who finally got here,” in disjointed harmony.

“What’s going on?” Katie eyed each one of her siblings through narrowed eyes. “And where are your cars?”

“We parked in back,” Erik explained. His sandy-colored hair, which was normally smoothed back from his forehead, was standing on end and in complete disarray.

Nick rubbed his fingers over his black and blue cheek. “When I told the boys what you asked me earlier, they decided to bring the party here.”

Katie wanted to stomp her foot. She settled for growling, “You promised not to tell!”

He shrugged. “I lied.”

“We wanted to meet Jordie boy,” Gray piped in, his voice slurred. Grinning, he threw his arm around Jorlan’s shoulder. Gray had a black eye; Jorlan had a cut lip. Both men wavered a bit on their feet. “We sure are glad we met him. Got to work out some tension.”

“Worked out some tension,” Jorlan echoed. He nodded, swayed. Nodded again.

“You’ve been fighting?” Her incredulity echoed off the walls, though she supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised at all. These were her brothers, after all, and they derived great joy from pounding the hell out of each other.

Nick swaggered to her and planted a kiss on the end of her nose. He darted away before she could slap him. “We had to make some things clear to Lover Boy.”

“What kind of things?”

“How to treat our baby sister, for one.”

“You’re kidding me, right? Please tell me you’re kidding.” When no one spoke, she gave in to her previous impulse and stomped her foot. Once. Twice. “I could kill you all. I really could.” She jerked a hand through her hair. “Besides using Jorlan as a punching bag, what else did you do to him?”

“Nothing.” Erik held up his left hand in the Boy Scout salute. “Honest.”

Jorlan moaned and clasped a hand to his head. “The chamber is spinning. Make it stop.” His golden complexion was slowly turning green.

Concerned he might have a concussion, Katie dropped her shopping bags and raced to his side. His pungent scent invaded her nostrils, and she suddenly knew his condition had nothing to do with a head injury. Good Lord. She waved the air in front of her face. “You got him drunk,” she accused.

“Sure did.” Gray frowned. “Didn’t realize Anguillaers were such lousy drunks, though. The man can’t hold his booze worth a damn.”

“That’s because he’s never had any, you idiot.” She hadn’t meant to scream the words, but honest to God, she was about to surpass her big-brother tolerance level. “Just how many beers did you give him?”

“We didn’t give him beer. Precisely,” Nick hedged.

“Then what precisely did you give him?”

“Tequila. Straight from the bottle.” That from Gray, law enforcer extraordinaire.

Jorlan swayed. He almost fell, but she managed to hold him up with her hip. She just couldn’t freaking believe this. Her alien warrior was wasted. Totally and completely smashed.

“Katya,” he said slowly, carefully articulating each syllable. “I think I am dying.”

“You’re not dying,” she replied dryly. She led him to the living-room couch and helped him ease down. With every motion, he groaned. Sitting beside him, she smoothed his forehead. “But by morning, you’ll wish you were already dead.”

Jorlan slapped a hand over his eyes and moaned. He muttered something in a language she didn’t understand, but she knew by his tone that the words weren’t pleasant.

“I’m sorry, Jorlan,” she said, her voice now soft and gentle. “I don’t know what you’re saying.” She traced his eyebrows with her fingertips, and would have been surprised had she seen the I-told-you-so look Nick gave the rest of her brothers.

Jorlan spoke again, this time in English. “What sort of devil brew did your brothers give me? I wanted ‘lick her,’ not death.” His voice was slurred, almost incomprehensible, and she had trouble deciphering what he said.

“What the hell is this?” Nick shouted.

Katie whipped around, expecting to find…what? A decapitated body, maybe. Or a ticking bomb about to explode. What she found was Nick holding one of the plastic bags, a dark scowl pulling at the corners of his lips as he rifled through the contents.

Katie jolted up so quickly Jorlan’s body bounced on the couch springs. His arm swung up and down as he grappled for something solid to hold on to. She didn’t stop to help him.

“Give me that!” She launched herself at Nick.

A split second before their bodies collided, Nick tossed the plastic satchel to Gray. Gray missed. The contents spilled across her carpet.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The only sound to be heard was the ticking of her grandfather clock. All eyes were fastened on what lay oh, so distinctly on her floor. Instead of diving to the ground and snatching everything up, Katie straightened, angled her chin to a proud tilt. She couldn’t control her blush, however, and knew if a fire detector had been nearby, she definitely would have set it off.

“Four boxes of condoms?” Gray shouted.

“Handcuffs?” Erik added, his tone a bit more discreet.

“Rope and a feather duster?” Denver yelled. His eyes sparked with fire.

I am not here, Katie thought. I am not standing here while my brothers ogle my purchases. I’m swimming in a clear blue ocean with the wind whipping my hair and the water splashing around my body.

That fantasy came to an abrupt halt with Nick’s next words. “What kind of kinky shit are you into, Katie Kat?”

That did it. Her temper exploded.

“Get out. All of you.” She jerked a finger to the door. “Get out right now. I’m not speaking to any of you for the rest of my life. You invaded my home, got my—my friend hammered, and now you think it’s okay to go through my things? Have I ever treated any of you with so little respect?”

They managed to look contrite, but not a single man made a move toward the exit.

“If I want to have sex with a man while he’s tied to my bed and tickle his entire body with feathers, that’s my business!”

Again, silence.

“I’m old enough to make my own decisions.”

“You’re our only sister,” Erik said, as if that explained and excused everything.

“We just wanted to meet your new boyfriend, honey.” Gray motioned to the now unconscious Jorlan with a tilt of his head. “You told me you weren’t seeing anyone. The next thing I know, Nick is calling me and going on and on about how you were making out on the bathroom floor with a romance cover model from Anguilla.”

She shot a narrowed glance to Nick, the tattletale.

He shrugged sheepishly, as if to say, “What else was a brother to do?” Then he grinned. “Mind if I pluck some of those feathers from the duster? This girl I’m seeing is really into—”

“Out!”

“Don’t be mad, sweetheart.” Blinking over at her, Erik stuffed his hands in his pockets. “We love you and only want to protect you.”

His apology didn’t surprise her. He was the peacemaker of the family. He was also the oldest and a former Army Ranger. His chosen profession was so at odds with his peace-loving nature, she often teased him about being a closet activist.

She sighed. “I will get you back, you know?”

“We know. You always do.” Denver lost his intense edge, even managed a half smile. “We wanted Jorlan to know what he’d be dealing with if he hurt you. This is the first man you’ve ever shown such an interest in, and we didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

Despite herself, Katie softened. She was still going to get revenge, but she abandoned images of a bloodbath. Even though they drove her crazy, made her wish she’d been an only child, she truly loved each of her brothers. All of her life these four handsome, wonderful men, plus the absent Brian, had protected her. They had guarded her from hurt and pain. They loved her. They would always love her, and she couldn’t fault them for trying to keep her safe.

She could fault them for being so damn nosy.

“You guys have to realize I’m a grown woman. I can be with whomever I want, with or without your approval.”

“Yes, but—” Gray began.

“No buts,” she said, cutting him off. “I don’t interrogate your girlfriends, nor do I get them drunk and beat them up.”

Each masculine face showed its own version of remorse.

“For what it’s worth, we think he’s an all-right guy,” Erik told her.

“He’s different. In a good way,” Denver added. “I never knew a man could fight with a spatula.”

Katie smiled; she just couldn’t help herself. Some women had the power to know what a man truly meant when he spoke, and at this moment, she was one of them. Erik and Denver were politely telling her Jorlan was weird. “He may be different,” she told them, “but he’s mine.” At least for now.

Erik nodded. “Why don’t you bring him to Dad’s on Saturday? We need a chance to make up for tonight.”

“We promise we’ll be good.” Nick gave her his customary if-you-believe-that-it’s-time-for-a-mental-evaluation grin.

Did she and Nick truly share the same parents? Perhaps he had been adopted. “I’ll think about it, okay? I’m not sure how much more of you guys I can stand.”

“Fair enough.”

One by one her brothers kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t let Gray drive,” she commanded.

“Give us some credit,” Denver tossed over his shoulder.

Together they all strode outside. Well, every one else strode. Gray stumbled. “Don’t forget Saturday,” he said, his tone a bit slurred.

“I won’t.” Sighing, she waved them off.

Alone at last, Katie went back inside and locked all of the doors, keeping predators—both related and nonrelated—out. She was shaking her head as she ambled back to the couch.

Jorlan was still passed out.

In sleep, his features were relaxed, giving him a boyish quality she’d never associated with him before. Boyish…it was hard to imagine that this hard, strong (drunk) warrior had ever been a boy. His innate sensuality, his commanding demeanor, and the patent stillness he sometimes adopted made her think that perhaps he’d sprung fully-grown from his father’s thigh, like an ancient Greek god.

Greek god. Yes, the description fit Jorlan perfectly. His physical attributes were exceptional, from the dark shadow covering his jaw to the iron-hard muscles corded throughout his entire body. More than that, there was something heavenly about the way he smelled. Not the tequila, of course, but the heady mixture of heat, soap and man.

Katie glided her fingers over his jaw, loving the rough texture and thinking that only two days ago she had wished for this very thing. To slip her hands over warm flesh, instead of cold gray stone. Sighing, she covered his body with a downy blanket that didn’t quite reach his toes. “Just what am I going to do with you, Jorlan en Sarr?”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

JORLAN AWOKE SUDDENLY.

Sunlight streamed inside the chamber he occupied. He closed his eyes. Opened them. Squinted. Why was the light so cursed bright? Why did his head pound so sharply he thought it might explode? And why in the name of Elliea did his tongue feel dry and parched as if a tiny creature had crawled inside and died?

Was he dying, mayhap? Had he been ill?

Slowly, the details hazy, his head began to fill with memories, though several pieces of information remained impossibly out of reach. One bit of information, however, pounded in his mind: Katie’s brothers were responsible for his torment!

Jorlan jerked upright, intending to collect his weapons and destroy all four of the cursed men who had given him “lick her.” But the action made his vision swim and his stomach lurch. He eased back down.

“Lick her” was obviously a poison of some sort. There were many different types on his world and all were used for different reasons, but he was unfamiliar with the toxins of Katie’s world. He suspected that the fiery concoction he’d consumed was not only used for incapacitating an enemy, but was also used as a truth serum.

Too well did he recall the many questions Katie’s siblings had drilled at him.

“How long are you staying?”

“Why are you leaving?”

“What are your intentions toward Katie?”

Jorlan was unsure how he had responded, but thought mayhap one of his answers caused a battle. Recalling a well-placed jab, he fingered his lip. Aye, there was a definite soreness. He did not recall the exact details, but he knew the fight had been four against one. Who had won, he was unsure. While he had once taken on nine rebel soldiers and emerged the victor, Katie’s brothers were a much more imposing force.

A sharp pain lanced through his head and Jorlan grimaced.

He had to get up, had to fight the sickness. There was much to do this day. He stumbled from his bed. The action caused his stomach to gurgle, twist and lurch. He fought it, but soon realized it was a losing battle and raced to the bathing chamber where he heaved into the sink.

After he’d emptied his stomach and scrubbed his mouth clean, he went in search of Katie. His steps were slow and careful as he uttered a prayer that she possessed some sort of antidote. If not, the pain in his stomach and head might kill him before the day ended.

He found her perched at the kitchen counter, flipping through her thick, yellow “phone book” and sipping green liquid from a mug. Even with his senses dulled from pain, she was a sight to behold. Sunlight poured through a nearby window, caressing her with an angelic glow, paying her the glorious tribute she deserved.

Beside her, a soft melody hummed from a magical black box. His first instinct was to attack, but then he noticed how her foot tapped in rhythm to the beat, and he remained in place. ’Twas like her talking “answering machine,” he realized.

Today Katie wore short, tight drocs and a brown top held in place by thick straps. Though both garments fit her curves like a second skin, neither the top nor bottom garment was truly an alluring piece, yet on her they looked stunning. Breathtaking. He could have gazed upon her exquisite loveliness forever.

Which was strange, he thought, considering he’d judged her merely beautiful before. As he watched her chew on the end of a thin writing instrument, moving those lush lips up and down—mimicking an action he had often fantasized about in the last days—he decided he had the right of it now. The word beautiful did no justice to such ethereal perfection.