Prince of Passion Read Online Free Page A

caught his hand in hers.
    Like an echo, he caught his breath when she touched him, and she managed not to gasp at the flare of desire cresting in her blood with the strength of the storm outside, whipped to a frenzy.
    She wanted to bring his hand to her breast, let him feel the crash of her pulse. She wanted him to pull her close until the wild rush of their blood and breath were one. She wanted… She just wanted . And that couldn’t be.
    Instead, she turned his palm upright. Silvery threads lined his skin, the whorls clustering at his fingertips and his inner wrist. She brushed her thumb over the pulse point and felt his heartbeat race.
    He swayed toward her. “Saya.”
    “You should have kept your gloves on.” She reached up to tweak aside the collar of his robe. On both sides of his neck, silver glimmered under his skin.
    She ran her finger down the traceries, fascinated. The shine brightened in the wake of her touch, and he shuddered. “Saya.” That was definitely a groan.
    Though the needful sound roused a hunger deep in her belly, she kept her voice stern. “I cannot have a temptation like yourself loose on my world in the middle of an aphrodisiac storm. Where is your master, l’auralyo?”

Chapter Three
    Icere fought to still the shivers that wracked him at her touch.
    By the last shining stone, he’d never felt so vulnerable. Even when he’d been cornered on that mining colony by three miners, each outweighing him by twice his own mass in pure muscle, he hadn’t felt this rush of dread. Because those three women, rough and ready as they’d been, hadn’t known what he was.
    Not like this tiny queen who still held him by the collar as if he were a naughty pup who’d slipped his leash. The top of her braids barely reached the middle of his chest; from his height he looked down on the cinnabar-red lining of the tiny shells in her hair. Despite the luscious curves and well-toned shoulders revealed by her sleeveless dress, he knew he could lift her with one arm—though one shouldn’t tote world rulers like common baggage—but the mere brush of her fingers stole his strength in a way no holographic interface ever had, as he could never have anticipated.
    And oh how he was anticipating.
    Against his own sheerways-pale skin, her dusky, sun-kissed flesh glowed, only enhanced by the vermillion of the long dress that matched her naturally red lips. He wondered what other parts of her would flush so brightly.
    He swallowed hard. He couldn’t stop himself, though he knew the telltale signal would only emphasize the qva’avaq shining in his skin. Damn the l’auraly impulse that made him want to lean into her grip and submit to her touch. But it had been so long since he’d been touched.
    No. He wasn’t that. Not anymore. He couldn’t be, couldn’t afford it.
    Hell, the universe couldn’t afford it. The universe couldn’t afford him either. The last l’aurlyo.
    Though he knew it was too late, he tried once to dissemble. “Saya, I don’t know what you think you see, but you are wrong.”
    “You are wrong if you think you can lie to me.” Though she had the same bronzed skin as her son, her eyes were light, a pale blue like an ethanol flame from one of those thrice-damned beverages set alight. The temptation seared his resistance.
    All he could do was stare at her mutely, his heartbeat banging against the back of her knuckles resting on his throat.
    As if she had become aware of their intimately close proximity, she abruptly released him. When she stepped back, the temperature in the room seemed to plummet, but he didn’t bother straightening his robe. The heat of her lingered in his blood and the curling lines of his qva’avaq.
    She scowled. “I heard the l’auraly homeworld suffered a catastrophic earthquake and all qva’avaq was destroyed.” Her scalding stare swept him from head to foot. “They said the handful of remaining l’auraly killed themselves in grief.”
    Icere clenched one hand