Bridal Jitters

Chapter 3

He was freaking her out. He knew it, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Hanging on to his self-control required every shred of what little willpower he could muster. Getting them both safely through the waterfall had required more power than he'd ever used in his life; more than he'd known he possessed. He did not intend to tell Virginia the truth: that it had been damned close. They had made it, but in the process he'd poured so much psychic wattage through his amber that he'd destroyed the resonating properties of the precision-tuned stone. Melting amber meant you'd pushed the envelope. There was always a price to pay.

He'd experienced the sexual buzz that often occurred after a major burn before. In the past, he'd always felt fully in control of the predictable arousal. But this time things were different. It wasn't just that the burn had been bigger; the real problem was that this time, he was alone with Virginia, the woman he'd been lusting after for nearly two months.

He was in the grip of a feverish desire that was all the worse because he had worked so hard to suppress and conceal it.

All right, so he had a major hard-on. Just a few rampaging hormones. So what? He wasn't a kid. He could control himself. He had to control himself. If he lost it now, he would probably terrify her and turn her against him forever. Any chance he had with her would go up in smoke.

He tried to concentrate on moving ahead down the corridor, searching the walls for the barest hint of illusion energy that would indicate a hidden chamber they could use. All of the rooms that had ever been discovered in the corridors had been found sealed with illusion traps. If they could find a sealed room that looked as if no one else had ever de-rezzed the trap that guarded it, Virginia could unseal it, and they could hide inside for a few hours.

Simple. All he had to do was concentrate and not think about the fact that she was only a few inches away.

"Sam, you're shivering." Virginia touched his forehead with gentle, questing fingers. "Good heavens, you're burning up. You must be running a temperature. Is this normal?"

"Damn it, don't touch me. ' He closed his eyes briefly and drew a deep breath. Great. Now he was snapping at her. "We'll both be sorry if you do."

She frowned; not with fear or trepidation but with a concern that horrified him. If she started in with the sweet, nurturing stuff, he was doomed.

"This can't be normal," she insisted. "I think that burn must have made you ill."

"Trust me, it's normal," he said through set teeth. "A little intense, but normal."

He could not screw up and lose control. Not now. It was crucial that he did not scare her to death. Because maybe, just maybe, he really had heard her say "I love you' in those few seconds before he carried her through the waterfall.

"Slow down, Sam, I can't keep up with you."

He realized that he was loping down the corridor as he raked the walls for telltale signs of illusion dark. "Sorry." He forced himself to slow somewhat.

"It's okay. Let me worry about finding a trapped chamber. We're back into my field of expertise now." She moved out ahead of him. "I think I see something up ahead. Yes, I can feel it."

He tried but he did not pick up the psychic tang of illusion dark. "I don't feel a damn thing."

"Probably because your para-senses are temporarily over-rezzed. But I'm sure there's something up there." She broke into a quick trot. "Positive. And it's big. A big trap usually indicates a large chamber. Maybe we'll luck out and find a palace. They always have lots of little antechambers around them. Plenty of places to hide."

He hoped she was right. Beneath the clawing surge of sexual need and the rush of the burn buzz, he thought he could detect the first warnings of the crash that would soon follow. He could not afford to collapse here in the open corridor. Not when there was a possibility that Leon Drummond's cohorts might be in the neighborhood. He had to stay on his feet long enough to make sure Virginia was safe.

He followed her around a bend and saw that she had come to a halt in front of what, at first glance, appeared to be a section of green quartz wall. But there was something not quite right about the center portion. He peered more closely, blinking to clear his jumpy vision. The wall wavered slightly before it came back into focus. Illusion dark.

"Big," he muttered.

"Yes. Very unusual. Also very, very old."

The thoughtful, decidedly academic tone of her voice worried him. The last thing they could afford to do was waste time while she analyzed the trap from a professional point of view.

"You can write it up for an article in the Journal of Para-Archaeology when this is over," he said roughly. "Right now, we need to get into the space behind it."

She gave him a disgruntled look. "I know. Give me a minute here, though. There's something different about this trap."

A new wave of concern washed through him, rezzing up the already fizzing effects of the afterburn just as it had started to fade. "Can you handle it? Because if not, we've got to find another—"

"I can handle it," she assured him. "It's just… different, that's all. I can't explain—" She broke off. "Never mind."

She went to work untangling the trap that barred the door. Restlessly, he watched the corridor in both directions while she de-rezzed the entrance.

"Got it," Virginia whispered softly.

There was a disturbing note in her voice, but he did not have time to question her about it. He swung around and saw that there was now an opening in the green wall. Virginia had already moved through it.

He followed her quickly, surprised that he had to give his eyes a moment to adjust to the shadowy interior of the chamber. His first impression was of a vast space filled with green-drenched shadows. His surroundings glowed, just as the tunnel did, but the light emitted by the quartz was much weaker and much dimmer in here. The effect was an emerald twilight.

The only thing he could tell for certain was that this chamber was large, much bigger than any of the others he had ever seen. In the gloom he could not make out the far walls or the ceiling. The space was filled with a number of structures of various sizes, all fashioned of the familiar green quartz. They were packed closely together and piled on top of each other, forming what looked like miniature city blocks crammed with a number of small apartments. The blocks were separated by narrow, twisting lanes.

He started toward the nearest of the apartments, assessing it as a potential hideout. He saw a narrow opening. It looked large enough to provide access to the interior of the building but small enough to be protected by a single man armed with a mag-rez gun.

Perfect.

"Hang on while I reset the trap," Virginia said behind him.

He paced restlessly while she worked. In a matter of seconds, illusion shadow once more obscured the entrance of the chamber.

"It won't deceive a trained tangler," she said as she turned back to face him, "but it might go unnoticed by a hunter or an excavation team worker, especially if he or she is in a hurry."

"With luck, there's no one out there looking for us."

"But you don't want to depend on luck, do you?"

"No." He scanned the dim chamber. "What the hell is this place?"

"Who knows? ' She walked slowly toward him, searching the narrow canyons between the apartment-like structures. "I've never seen anything quite like it. Maybe it was a zoo. All those little cubicles and small rooms might have once been cages for animals."

"Maybe. Could just as easily have been a storage locker facility or an office park or a prison."

"We'll probably never know."

He came to a halt in front of the nearest apartment structure. It appeared to be several stories high. He could see many rows of neatly marked openings on the side.

"There must be a hundred little rooms in there," he said. "We can use one of them."

"Sam?" Virginia sounded uneasy again. "Are you thinking of hiding inside that particular building?"

"Uh-huh. Is it trapped?"

She went closer to examine the nearest entrance.

"Yes," she said.

He frowned. "Well? Can you untangle it?"

"Yes," she said again very evenly.

He waited for a few seconds, but he did not sense any psi energy. She was staring at the trapped entrance, but she wasn't working.

"What the hell's wrong?" he asked. "It's not like we've got all day here."

She turned slowly to face him. In the green twilight her eyes were more shadowed than the interior of the cubicle.

"Not this one," she said. "Let's try another one."

He started to argue and then reminded himself that when it came to traps, she was the pro. "All right, pick another one, but hurry."

She was already moving down the narrow lane between two looming structures. He paced behind her, controlling his temper when she passed up three more trapped entrances. Silently he willed her to make her choice so that he could get on with the task of rigging up some sort of defense that would protect her while he slept off the afterburn.

She turned at an intersection and went down another lane. Just when he was ready to take charge and make the choice for her, she came to a halt.

"Here," she said. She sounded relieved. "This one is okay. We can go inside."

"About time," he growled. "Do what you have to do."

She glanced at him. "No problem. There's no trap at this entrance."

"Damn." He took a closer look. The doorway she had chosen looked more elaborate than the others. It was wider, more ornately carved. It was taller, too. He shook his head. If push came to shove, it would not be as easy to defend. He turned away, scanning the ranks of darkly glowing openings in the green walls.

"No good," he said brusquely. "Pick one with a trap that you can reset after we're inside. It will give us an extra level of protection."

"This is the only one I've seen that feels okay."

He scowled. "What the hell do you mean, it feels okay?"

"Just what I said. This one is okay." Stubborn determination gleamed in her eyes. "This is my area of expertise, and I'm telling you that this will be a safer place to hide than any of the other possibilities that I've seen so far."

"But it's not even trapped."

"There's something wrong about those traps on the other entrances," she said. "I could untangle them, but I don't think that I should."

"You don't think you should?" He wanted to shake her. Didn't she realize he was trying to protect her? "What kind of a reason is that? If we get cornered in this chamber by a couple of hunters trying to protect an illegal excavation site, we're going to need all the help we can get. I want a doorway that's well-trapped."

She wrapped her arms around herself and looked at him with unshakable conviction. "We can't go into any of those other rooms. Trust me on this, Sam. This is the only chamber I've seen yet that feels safe."

He hesitated. "Safe?"

"Yes." She unhugged herself and touched his cheek. She dropped her hand immediately when he flinched. "Sam, we've got to get you inside. You're in bad shape. You're scaring me."

"Just don't touch me," he warned. "Not until I've slept this off."

"Don't be ridiculous. How can it hurt if I touch you? Sam, you're not yourself. If you've got an ounce of sense, you'll admit that you're in no condition to be in charge of the firm of Gage & Burch at the moment."

She was right, but he did not want to admit it. Another wave of shivering swept over him. "Find a trapped room."

"We don't have time to keep looking. You need sleep."

"In a while. Not just yet."

"I'm officially declaring myself the boss of this partnership, at least for now. And I say you need sleep. Come with me."

She reached out without warning. Her hand closed around his arm, sending a tide of sensation screaming through his senses. This time he knew he was lost. The raging hunger roared past the last of his defenses. A great shudder of need wracked him. He no longer possessed the will to resist.

When she tugged him gently toward the doorway, he lurched once and then stumbled after her. At that moment he would have followed her anywhere; straight into hell, if that was where she wished to lead him.

She seemed oblivious to the storm that had him in its grip. She drew him through the untrapped doorway into a wide, softly lit room. He was vaguely aware of a tall piece of statuary in the center of the space. It soared toward the ceiling, delicately carved in the familiar airy, abstract designs the Harmonics had favored. There was a shallow pool beneath it. Emerald streams of sparkling energy poured gently from the top of the ornately designed quartz. The gentle waves bounced and splashed in the pool.

"A fountain," Virginia breathed in wonder. "I've never seen anything like it. Never even heard of anything like it. Maybe this place was some sort of park, or maybe it was a garden in some wealthy Harmonic home. But why all the little tiny rooms in that warren outside?

"Maybe the neighborhood went bad. Turned into a slum." Sam shook his head, unable to concentrate on the fountain or any of the other questions she had brought up. All of his over-rezzed senses were riveted on her.

"This way," she said.

He did not reply. He knew that he was so far gone now, that if he tried to speak, nothing coherent would come from his throat. He stared longingly at the back of her head as she urged him through an interior doorway. She had a beautifully shaped head, he decided. And the color of her hair, a warm reddish brown, was perfect. The urge to pull her down onto the hard quartz floor and cover her body with his own was nearly overwhelming. He prayed that he would crash into deep sleep before he succumbed to the torrent of desire that was pulsing through him.

Inside the smaller antechamber, Virginia paused. "This will do, I think. You can sleep it off here."

He caught a glimpse of some large chests arranged around the room, saw a green staircase in the corner, but all he could think of was Virginia. He closed his eyes to shut out the sight of her. The attempt to banish her vision from his senses did not work. The scent of her hit him like a narcotic.

Crash, he thought. Just crash, and this will all be over. Then he remembered something else; something he had to do first. He reached into his boot and removed the slender little mag-rez gun. He held it out to her.

"Take this. If anyone comes through the door of this chamber before I wake up, use it."

She looked at the gun and then raised startled eyes to his. "Since when did you start carrying a mag-rez?"

"Since I ran into my first ruin rat on my very first consulting assignment," he said brusquely. "I nearly got myself killed. After that, I started carrying one. I also carry a flashlight, even though no one's ever found a darkened tunnel, and extra tuned amber. Call me superstitious. Do you know how to use this?"

"No, of course not," she said primly. "Instruction in the use of mag-rez weapons is not included in the curriculum of the department of archaeology at the university. Probably because it's illegal to carry one underground."

He gritted his teeth and pointed at the weapon. "This is the safety. Disengage it before you use it. When you want to fire, just point it in the general direction of that doorway and squeeze the trigger. Don't worry about aiming. This thing will stun a man regardless of where you hit him."

She looked dubious. "Do you really think I'll need it?"

"I can't think clearly at all right now," he said flatly. "So just take it and promise me you'll use it if necessary."

"Okay." Gingerly she took it from his hand.

He looked around for a place to lie down. But he was still humming with afterburn sizzle and the sexual energy continued to wash through him. It would be a few more minutes before he could take refuge in sleep. He closed his eyes, fighting back raw need. When he raised his lashes, he saw that Virginia was watching him with intense concern.

"Sam?"

"I want you."

She blinked but she did not draw back.

"Sorry," he muttered. He wiped his damp forehead with the back of his sleeve. "Can't help it."

"I know." There was no fear in her eyes, but there was something else; something that could have been sad resignation. "It's all right. I understand about the effects of the afterburn."

"The hell with the afterburn." Unable to keep his hands off her any longer, he gripped her shoulders. "I've wanted you since the day you walked through my front door."

She stared at him with what could only have been amazement. "You have?"

He groaned, pulled her hard against his chest, and tilted her chin. "More than I've ever wanted anything or anyone else in my life."

He kissed her before she could respond. He had to kiss her. Just one kiss, he promised himself. Drain off a little of the sexual charge. By the time it was over, surely the crash would have overtaken him. It had to hit soon. Any second now. Then he would escape into the merciful oblivion of sleep before he did anything else real stupid.

As a plan, it seemed simple and straightforward. Then again, he might have been hallucinating by now, he thought.

But however brilliant the scheme seemed, he knew as soon as he took her mouth that something was going horribly, wonderfully, terrifyingly wrong. Virginia put her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

"Oh, Sam."

"Oh, shit."

Her response was the last straw. He cradled her face in his hands and drank hungrily from her lips as if he could consume the essence of her vibrant spirit. She moaned softly and tightened her grip on his neck. He could feel the swell of her breasts beneath the sturdy twill of her shirt. The inside of her mouth was warm and welcoming, just as he had imagined.

For the first time he feared that the crash would overcome him before he could finish what he had started. A whole new sense of urgency slammed through him.

Not daring to raise his mouth from hers for fear that he might somehow lose her, he started to undress her. It was not an easy task. His hands were shaking so badly that he could barely manage the buttons.

He felt her fingers slide beneath the waistband of his trousers, gliding up beneath the hem of his shirt. Her palms flattened against his chest, and he thought he would go through the roof. He realized that she was shivering now, too.

"Sam, are you sure you're not ill?"

"I'm okay." He struggled with her shirt.

"I was so afraid that you—"

"Nothing to be afraid of." He managed to wrench his mouth from hers long enough to kiss her throat. "I swear it. You don't have to be afraid of me. I won't hurt you. I could never hurt you."

"I know. That wasn't what I meant."

He finished fumbling with the last of the buttons that closed her shirt. He peeled the garment off her shoulders and hurled it aside. Then he heard himself utter a thick, husky groan. He could feel her firm little nipples pressing against the sleek fabric of her bra.

She was working on his belt now. The sweet torture was almost beyond endurance. Every time her fingers brushed against his skin he thought he would explode.

He dragged the straps of her bra down her arms, freeing her breasts. He leaned his hot forehead against her cool brow and looked at the taut, peaked curves.

"You are so beautiful," he muttered, awed.

She gave him a smile laced with infinite mystery. "No, but you're making me feel beautiful."

He lacked the patience to argue. She was beautiful; the most beautiful, most desirable woman he had ever seen in his life. He knew that, even if she did not.

He scooped her up in his arms, intending to lower her to the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a wide chest carved of quartz. It would not be any softer than the floor, but at least it looked vaguely like a bed.

He carried Virginia to the hard couch and put her down on it. She lay back on the emerald stone, her hair spilling around her head, her eyes glowing with desire, and watched him with great expectation as he unbuckled his belt.

Her expression nearly finished him.

He yanked impatiently at his clothing. The cocktail in his bloodstream made him clumsy and awkward. But when he finally lowered himself onto the chest and pulled Virginia into his arms, he had never felt better in his life.

Nothing had ever been this good.

He slid one leg between hers and dampened his fingers in her liquid heat.

She gasped, trembled, and closed her eyes. She slid her palm down his chest, across his belly, and lower. He felt her fingers close around him and thought his heart might stop.

"Sam.

Another wave of need thundered through him. "No, don't touch me like that. I won't be able—"

"It's all right."

"Stop saying that." He came down on top of her. Her green-gold eyes were luminous with desire. "Virginia, this isn't the way I wanted to do this, but I can't wait. Not this time."

"It's all right," she said. She opened her legs for him, drew up her knees, and wrapped her arms around him. "Really."

"Hold me." It was half plea, half demand. "Promise me you won't let go."

"Never."

He squeezed his eyes shut against the riptide of need that was threatening to sweep him out into a dark sea. She shifted a little beneath him, and the glide of her silken skin against him nearly ended the matter right then and there.

He plunged deep; sinking recklessly, exultantly into the snug, tight channel of her body. He felt the initial resistance and then she closed around him. She cried out and clung to him, fighting him for the embrace.

He rocked violently against her, driving himself to the hilt with every thrust, needing to forge a bond that would hold long after this encounter.

The climax hit him. Simultaneously he thought he felt Virginia convulse beneath him, but he could not be certain. He barely had time to register a sensation so intense that it could not truly be described as pleasure. But it was not pain, either. Something else, he thought vaguely, something infinitely more important.

There was no time to analyze the incredible feeling. Hard on its heels came the crash. He could only marvel that it had not struck sooner.

He collapsed on top of her, aware that he was trapping her against the quartz chest with his weight. But there was nothing he could do about it. The deep, dreamless sleep took him.