Corin left the breakfast parlour feeling unaccountably irritated. Something was not quite as it should be and he could not decide exactly what. He had gone out of his way to rile Laen, and had received exactly the reaction he had hoped for. He knew Laen as well as he knew himself and perceived that he had been right in his estimation of how things would proceed. Unfortunately the discovery did not give him half as much satisfaction as he had thought it might, which concerned him immensely. He looked out of the window at lowering, wolf grey skies as the wind buffeted the landscape and tore around the castle with a morbid howl. Cursing, he turned away. Somehow he didn’t think Alfheim would be faring any better. He had the distinct feeling that trouble was following him, a dark shadow that lingered on the edge of his mind and whispered to him when he was alone. He was becoming increasingly unsettled by what the future would bring. Somehow Laen’s feelings towards Océane were crucial but the knowledge brought him no peace.
Heading back to the rooms Laen always left ready for him, he was lost to his troubled thoughts and almost didn’t hear the squeal of protest as he passed by the open door to a large linen cupboard. Peering inside, he discovered Aleish trying in vain to push a large box back onto the shelf above her head. Rushing over, he took the weight of it from her arms and slid it back onto the shelf.
“Oh, no I wanted it down!” she exclaimed. “It was just too heavy so I had to push it back.”
Corin rolled his eyes. “Well do make your mind up.” Obligingly he lifted the box down for her as the scent of Rosemary and Lavender drifted up around them. “Darling, what on earth are you up to?” he asked with a reproving tone as he brushed a cobweb from her hair. “Surely you have maids for this sort of thing.”
“Oh!” she huffed. “The place is going to rack and ruin since I left. I only came to find some dresses for Océane and found the place in such a state ... Well I couldn’t leave it like that. He really must get a housekeeper. I’ve tried myself but I can’t find anyone who isn’t scared to death of him.” She looked up to see him smiling at her affectionately. “What?”
“We’ve hidden in here before,” he said, mischief dancing in his eyes.
Aleish blushed and brushed her skirts down self-consciously. “Yes, well ... that was a long time ago. Before I was married.”
He shrugged and leaned against the shelves of linens and pursed his lips. “Well we’re here now ...”
Aleish frowned. “Oh do behave. I simply do not have the energy to fend you off today what with Laen in an almighty fury and Océane trapped here.” She rubbed at her forehead in a weary gesture and grimaced. “By the fates, what will happen to us?”
He sighed and crossed his arms with a truculent expression. “You’re no fun anymore.”
“Oh, Corin!” She snorted and shook her head at him. “What am I to do with you? I suppose you have been making that poor girl fall in love with you.”
He shrugged and affected a wide-eyed, innocent expression that he knew Aleish wouldn’t be fooled by for a moment. “I thought I behaved admirably ... in the circumstances.”
“In what circumstances?” She pouted and gave him a knowing look. “You mean alone with a beautiful girl and you resisted the urge to take her to bed?” She raised her hands in mock astonishment. “What a martyr you are! They will dedicate ballads and erect statues to your great sacrifice. You’ll probably be made a Saint.”
He nodded with great sincerity. “And quite right too, I’d say.”
She burst out laughing, hitting his shoulder with a playful smack. “Oh, you are quite impossible.”
Catching her hand, he held it to his lips, kissing the knuckles with soft lips. “It is so lovely to hear you laugh, darling.”
She stopped abruptly, her eyes wistful. “No, you must not ... please.” She blushed again and moved away from him, busying herself with rearranging the linens but he could see how her hand trembled.
He sighed heavily and leaned against the shelves once again. “I’m sorry, Aleish. Forgive me.”
She glanced up at him and smiled. “As if you think I wouldn’t forgive you most anything.” He smiled in return but his heart wasn’t in it and she frowned at him.
“What is it? Each time I see you I feel more and more that you’re carrying some burden. I cannot see what it is but I can tell the weight of it is laying heavy on your mind.” Her face was full of concern for him and not for the first time he wondered what it would be like to be married to her. The thought was too disturbing though and he crossed his arms and looked away. For a moment he considered telling her everything, everything that was keeping him from sleep, making him drink more than ever and raise hell at every opportunity. He desperately wanted to. Before he would have confided in Laen without hesitation, but now things were too tense between them, he was too afraid of losing his oldest friend for good. So instead he did what had become second nature and ignored the voice in his head that called him and tormented his conscience in the darkest part of the night. He forced it away and turned to her with a mischievous grin and a twinkle in his eyes. “Why, darling, you know I am considering how to lure you away from that husband of yours. The loss of you weighs heavy on my heart.”
She tutted at him. “Do not try that on me, I am by no means stupid. You are just trying to divert me!” She stepped closer to him, her black eyes intent and he knew he could never delude her, of all people. “You can put on an act for everyone else but I see the truth of you and you had best not forget it. You are a good man, Corin, but you squander your talents and your life. You cannot carry on this way forever. You are terribly lonely, we both know it and no amount of one night stands and torrid affairs are ever going to ease that.” She sighed and her expression softened. Reaching out, she laid a hand on his arm. “You should not be so afraid to love someone. It doesn’t have to be like that for you.”
He snorted, suddenly becoming terribly interested in the variety of fabrics folded neatly on the shelves. Anything other than look her in the eyes. “Yes, between our two families we have such wonderful examples of how these things can work out for the best,” he replied, his tone caustic and full of bitterness.
She shook her head and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. “Laen is nothing like our father, thank the gods, and there is no reason to think you will follow the same path as yours. You are not him and if you carry on ...” She paused and he knew she was unwilling to put into words what she could see coming. She looked him in the eyes and her care for him only made everything seem more desperate. “You simply cannot live like this, Corin. Find something real and true, something worth fighting for, and hold onto it.”
He was quiet for a long time, not knowing what to say but in the end he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You know I can’t.” He wondered if she could hear the regret in his voice as clearly as he could.
***
After Laen had left her room, Océane had stood for some considerable time staring at the palm of her hand as though she hoped to find the answer to the universe written there - or at least the answer to what the hell she had just experienced.
Stockholm syndrome, she decided, sitting down with a thud in the nearest chair. She’d read about it in the papers, where victims developed feelings of affection or even love for their abductors. She frowned and considered how she felt about Laen. Fear - yes, intense dislike – absolutely. Hate - no doubt in her mind. Not Stockholm syndrome then. She sighed. She hadn't needed to see the words that had flickered under his skin to identify the feeling she had experienced when his lips made contact with her palm but it had been mortifying nonetheless. She had even wondered if she might be about to have a seizure of some kind as in her innocence she had never realised that a man’s lips on her skin could cause such a violent reaction.
It was also a very unpleasant revelation to discover that she could have such an intense reaction to a man she hated with every fibre of her being. Why couldn’t it have been Corin; that would have been a much nicer experience.
Magic then, she decided with relief. Of course, that was it. In books the Fae were supposed to have all sorts of weird and scary powers, and she knew Aleish could read her mind when she touched her. She gave a sigh. Thank God! She really wasn’t losing it completely. The wicked bastard had played with her mind to make her feel like that, to make her want him. Just wait until she saw him next, she’d give him a piece of her mind all right and he wouldn't have to touch her to get it.
She heard thunder rumbling in the distance. The rain was coming down in earnest still and the damp cold clung to her dress and chilled her even by the fire. She shut the balcony doors that she had opened in the hope the fresh air would wake her sanity up and give her some peace. That at least, seemed to have worked. She sat back down in the chair and stared out at the grim day outside of the windows. God but she was sick of being stuck in this bloody room, they could at least give her a book to read. She was just wondering if she should take a nap to try and while away some time when she heard the door open, and her heart both sunk and began to pound frantically as she saw Laen stride through it. She leaped up out of her chair and took refuge behind the bed post. Like that was going to protect her!
She looked at him critically; his white blond hair fell straight either side of his face until it just brushed his shoulders, and his skin was so very pale but seemed to have an opalescent glow that came from within him. He was dressed in his usual soft, black leather trousers and boots, and a simple white cotton shirt that was tied loosely shut with a lace and afforded her a tantalising glimpse of that fine chest. Damn it but he was gorgeous and she hated him all the more for it.
He walked in, his presence appearing to force the air from the room until she could barely breathe. He sat down on the edge of the bed and those disturbing black eyes lifted to hers.
“Well then, Océane, have you decided to tell me more about the book?” He smiled at her pleasantly, which was the most unnerving thing he’d done yet.
She shook her head, momentarily having lost the ability to speak.
There was a flash of annoyance in those dark eyes but the pleasant smile remained. “Perhaps you would like to explain ‘The Dark Prince is Lost’ then? How do I come to be lost? Tell me, am I merely misplaced or did you perhaps have something more permanent in mind?” He watched her, waiting for her to reply but once again no brilliant answer could be found no matter how hard she tried. She knew she was trying his patience but ... she didn’t know what to say.
He got up from the bed and moved closer to her. Océane stifled a shriek of alarm and began backing up, knowing that she was going to run out of room at any moment. She held her hands out in front of her as if warning him to stay back even though there was really no point. “K-Keep away from me, you ... You freak!” she said in fury. “Don’t you dare touch me!”
Laen only smiled at her again, amusement glittering in the gaze that never left her. “Really, Océane,” he said, his voice soft. “That was a silly thing to say. I never have been able to resist a dare.”
He kept moving forwards and she kept retreating until she found herself backed up against the bedroom wall. There was simply nowhere else to go, so she snatched up the silver candlestick that she’d threatened him with before. “Just back off!” she shouted, anger that he should make her feel this way giving her courage she never knew she’d had. “God, I knew you were a sick bastard but I never believed even you could sink so low.”
One eyebrow quirked and his lips twitched. “Even me,” he repeated, not trying to hide the laughter in his voice. “Oh really? Please ... do enlighten me.”
She quailed a little as he was standing close now and the size of him made her feel a lot less brave than she had felt when he was on the other side of the room. Nonetheless she put up her chin and stared at him defiantly. “I mean your Jedi mind tricks, you creepy bastard. Bloody hell, as if it’s not enough to abduct me and knock me about!”
A look of puzzlement crossed his face and he frowned at her. “My ... what?”
She snorted in disgust. “Oh don’t act all innocent. You know exactly what I mean.” She tapped a finger against her temple and sneered at him. “You got in my head ... Like your sister can, and you’re not doing it again or before I know it I’ll be flat on my back agreeing that they’re not the droids I’m looking for,” she yelled, brandishing the candlestick and wishing it was possible to melt into the wall at her back.
Laen’s expression was momentarily one of complete bewilderment. “What in the name of the gods are you talking about?” The idea began to sink in, as she watched his confusion, that he really didn’t know what she was referring to, which meant ... he hadn’t used any weird mind bending powers on her after all. She felt the blush burn her cheeks and spread down her neck as his expression cleared and he began to laugh. It was a soft, low sound that made her heart pound faster.
“What are you laughing at?” she demanded, stamping her foot, though she knew damn well, and ‘mortified’ did not even come close to how she was feeling. She had no choice but to bluff it out though. “I suppose you think manipulating innocent women is a fine morning’s entertainment?”
He took a step closer to her and she held the candlestick up a little higher. She looked up and up and could feel his breath on her face as he spoke.
“I didn’t do anything to your mind and I am far from believing you are innocent yet, my dear.”
With a movement too fast for her to take in, he snatched the candlestick out of her hand and threw it on the floor where it landed with a clatter. She screamed but had nowhere to run as he leaned over her with his hands braced on the wall either side of her head. He was so close that she could smell him and was infuriated to discover he smelled wonderful, fresh and clean like a cold winter’s day.
“I don’t believe you!” she said, not looking him in the eyes, her voice barely more than a whisper.
She glanced up to see that he was smiling at her and she was aware of a softer look in his eyes that hadn't been there before. “I am really not interested in whether or not you believe me, Océane.” He paused and one hand moved to touch her hair, a delicate caress as one finger stroked and then tucked the lock behind her ear. He lowered his head further so that his mouth brushed her cheek. “I am however deeply interested in the fact that you desire me.”
“I do not!” she objected and was horrified to hear her voice sound so unconvincing. The man was a complete and utter bastard, the kind she had spent her life running away from. She was not about to go weak at the knees for a domineering Neanderthal like him. She really wasn't. But now his eyes were fixed on hers and she couldn't look away from him.
“I do not wish to hurt you, Océane. I only want to know the truth.”
She frowned as she wondered if that was really sincerity she could see in his eyes. “I’ve told you the truth,” she said, and he sighed, his breath fluttering against her skin and making her shiver.
“We both know that is not the truth though,” he said.
She risked a look up at him and saw his face soften.
“If you are truly innocent you have nothing to fear from me. I only seek to protect my people.”
She bit her lip, wondering if she could try to convince him that what she had said was the truth ... just possibly not the whole story.
“Things do not have to be so ... unpleasant between us.” His voice was low now, seductive, and she began to feel alarm. This was a bad, bad situation. “I know you want me.”
To her relief, indignation at his arrogance brought anger flooding back with a vengeance. “No,” she said, grateful beyond measure that he could not see the words she could see on his face. “I do not.”
To her fury he chuckled. “Hmm.” He brought his body a little closer to hers. “Well then, let us see.”
Before she could make any objection he had dipped his head and begun slowly kissing a trail down the side of her neck to her shoulder and what she had intended to become an expletive came out as a gasp. His lips were warm and soft as they gently caressed her skin and when his tongue added to the assault she had to clench her hands to stop them from fisting into his hair and pulling his head against her. With a teasing bite, he stopped at her shoulder and raised his head, watching her like a bug under a microscope. Heart pounding, she took the opportunity to duck under his arm and rush across the room to the French doors. Maybe if she got outside she could scream for help ... Maybe Aleish would hear her.
She was tugging at the doors when two strong arms swept around her waist and he pulled her firmly against him. “Not yet, I have not finished my interrogation.” She felt his breath coming fast now, cool against her burning skin, and tried to convince herself it was fear making her heart pound. With one hand he lifted her hair and placed it over her left shoulder leaving the other clear for his lips to return to their delicate torment. He nipped at her ear lobe and she was horrified to hear her breathing hitch. With the gentlest of touches he returned his attention to her neck. “So very lovely,” he murmured against her skin.
Oh God, oh God, Océane repeated over and over in her head, though whether she was praying for Him to intervene and stop Laen or make sure he continued, she simply couldn’t decide. How could a man who had gone out of his way to frighten her now treat her with such delicate attention. In a last ditch effort she tried to get away from him, trying to break his hold on her body and - despite his denial - she was sure he had possessed her mind as she could not possibly be sane. However he simply grasped her hips, pulling her tight against him, and the feel of his hard body pressed against hers was enough for all reason to finally up stakes and flee. Instead she gave in to sensation and leaned into him as his hands started to move over her. One large hand splayed over her belly as the other swept up past her waist to cup her breast where it remained to give a gentle squeeze. To her everlasting shame Océane moaned, and tipped her head back to lean against his shoulder.
***
“Océane,” Laen murmured, her name spoken with a yearning he was too absorbed by to hide. It never occurred to him to stop and wonder why her name felt so right on his tongue, so consumed was he by the feel of her soft body against him. He forgot that he had come with every intention of terrorising her into giving him the information that he needed. He forgot that he needed to know if she was aware or even master of some plot to kill him. At this precise moment he didn’t care if she had been plotting to overthrow his father's kingdom or have an assassin murder him in his bed; all he could think about was how much he wanted to taste her lips on his. How much he wanted to see her smile at him instead of turn away in fear or rage.
The hand on her belly moved up to her face, caressing her cheek before turning her head towards him and he didn’t even try to disguise the longing he felt sure was in his eyes as his mouth moved towards hers. But before he was able to satisfy his craving, the door opened and he heard Corin’s voice speaking to the guards.
“I’m quite sure he is in the middle of an interview but I wish to see him.”
Laen let go of Océane so quickly that she almost dropped to her knees and had to grab hold of the door handles to steady herself. He could see she was trembling. For his part Laen was feeling more than a little flustered himself, though outwardly it was in no way visible. As part of a royal dynasty he was well used to having his every expression scrutinised, and had perfected the blank face at a very early age. So by the time Corin stepped in the room he was standing a discreet distance from Océane, looking perfectly calm. She on the other hand looked flushed and was breathing heavily. Laen looked at her with satisfaction. Her cheeks were pink and she was clinging to the door handles like they were the only thing holding her up. He did wish however that she didn’t look so obviously in turmoil in front of Corin’s sharp eyes as for some reason he didn’t want him to know what had been going on. However, he watched as Corin took one look at his own carefully composed expression and Océane’s look of bewilderment, and knew his friend was in no doubt whatsoever of what he’d interrupted.