Ann Vremont The Bloodstone Chronicles 3 Calabi Chronicles (EC) (pdf)

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beauty of his voice, the strong features equally at home on a warrior or cover model, must have become
embedded in her mind.
Her mind set on asking him if he d been at the estate sale, Aideen opened the door. Seeing the small
bundle of clothes he held, she felt as if her spine had turned to stone. No. She kept her denial short
and flat but he held them out to her.
There s nothing else, Aideen, he said. And your street clothes will be washed and dried before an
hour s passed
I know what they are, she said, looking at the white shift and its red robe embroidered in gold.
Kean gave an irritated snort and pushed them closer to her. What they are is irrelevant in this context.
When she still refused, he softened his tone and tried cajoling her into taking them. Since when, he
asked, does a woman find the finest silks and satin objectionable?
Aideen tilted her head, her gaze narrowing as her temper flared even higher.
Whatever, Kean said with a resigned sigh. He put the garments on top of the washer and turned
away, pulling the bathroom door shut behind him. You can sit in here until your clothes are washed
and dried. I m getting something to eat.
Aideen listened to Kean clunking around the kitchen, making no attempt to hide his irritation. He was
mumbling and she rested against the door, his words reaching her in broken phrases. She realized he
was arguing with himself about the proper amount of gratitude an abducted woman should show when
brought a gown fit for a queen.
Not a queen, she corrected him in her mind. But a high priestess. She glanced down to find herself
fingering the edge of the crimson robe. With the tip of her nail, she traced the golden outline of the
figures that signified the feminine half of the godhead. Water, cups, wisdom, air, plants. These
symbols, she knew, would be complemented on the high priest s robe by symbols of the masculine
half. A ray of sunlight, a wild boar, a spear, a stag and a hawk. And was that other robe, she wondered,
also here? She closed her eyes and imagined Kean wearing it. His image blended with her memory of
Cenn and she felt a growing wetness between her legs.
You ll be dead or in an insane asylum tomorrow, Aideen, girl, she said and lifted the white silk shift
above her head. Might as well have a hot supper tonight.
* * * * *
Kean wasn t in the kitchen when Aideen emerged a few seconds later. She stepped into the hallway and
noticed a door slightly ajar with soft light spilling from the room. Barefoot, she crossed the cold
limestone flooring and pushed the door until it was fully open. Kean was sitting at an oversized
mahogany desk. A tureen was in the center of the desk with a place setting on either side. An uncorked
bottle of wine waited to fill two glasses.
You were expecting me? she asked. The question came out harder than she meant and she took a
tentative step into the room.
No. He took the wine bottle and began to fill their glasses. He dipped his head so she couldn t read
his face. Just hoping you would change your mind.
I m hungry. Aideen sat down in the leather-cushioned chair opposite Kean. Arms folded, her hands
tucked in at her sides, she watched him pour the wine and lift the tureen s lid to ladle still steaming
canned stew into her bowl. She took a ravenous bite then raised her eyes to find him watching her. She
gestured toward his empty bowl. Aren t you going to eat?
His gaze darted down to his bowl and he gave a little upward nod but didn t move to fill it. Instead, he
looked at Aideen while she ate. His finger traced the rim of his wine glass and he took a slow sip. I m
glad you came out of the bathroom sooner rather than later, he said before he finally spooned some of
the soup into his bowl.
Aideen shrugged, not looking at him, and took a gulp of wine, its natural bitterness making her wince.
Kean went to add more wine to her glass and she abruptly pulled it away from him. I think a clear
head goes better with a full stomach when it s time to be thinking, she said and slid her glass to the
edge of the desk.
He cocked an eyebrow at her but didn t argue. He slid the bottle and his glass along the desk until they
rested next to hers. Without the glass to occupy his hands, he began to toy with a grapefruit-sized globe
of smoky quartz.
Your crystal ball? she asked sarcastically.
The side of his mouth lifted in a lazy smile. Why don t you look inside it and tell me what you see,
Aideen?
Once he made the suggestion, Aideen found that she couldn t avoid looking at it. Deep within the
quartz, a swirl of electricity followed Kean s caressing fingertip. She blinked and snatched the globe [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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