Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [137]
I opened my mouth to deny it, and couldn't.
Her blue-grey eyes danced. "Don't worry, you're far too intriguing to become tiresome. But I should let you rest. Are you wondering if I mean to kiss you before I leave?"
I laughed. "I am now."
"I do." Jehanne suited actions to words. She ducked beneath an overhanging frond of a giant fern and kissed me, gently at first, then with a measure of passion, her tongue darting past my lips. Her intoxicating scent enveloped me.
It felt very, very good.
I kissed her back, slid my arms around her neck. I didn't want her to go. I wanted to see her naked with fern shadows painted on her skin. I wanted to taste her again. "Don't leave," I whispered. "Not yet."
If I'd said such a thing to Raphael, he would have patted my cheek and told me I needed bed-rest. But Jehanne was Naamah's child twice over. She merely gave me one of her sparkling looks. "Well, it's a good thing I told the guard to see we weren't disturbed, isn't it?"
It may not have been a benediction, but it was the nearest thing to it I'd known in love-making. It was slow, languid, and healing. And I knew that whatever else transpired, I would always be a little bit in love with Jehanne, and I would always remember her best as I saw her that day in my sunlit, plant-filled bedchamber, green shadows dappling her fair skin and the pale night-blooming flower of her marque.
"I have to go," she said at last when the shadows were growing long. "I'm dining with Daniel this evening."
"Ohhh." I'd quite forgotten about the King. "What does he, um…" I gestured vaguely at the tangled bed linens. "Think of this?"
Jehanne smiled. "His majesty is highly amused."
"Truly?"
She reached for her gown. "Oh, yes. He told me I had to choose between you and Raphael." I stared at her. "I'm very angry at Raphael," she added, stepping gracefully into her gown. "Lace my stays, please?"
I obeyed silently.
"Moirin." Jehanne turned and took my chin in her hand when I'd finished, forcing me to look up at her. "This isn't some ploy in a game, if that's what you're wondering. I haven't told you a single falsehood."
"So what am I?" I gestured again. "What is this?"
She cocked her head. "What do you want it to be? Would you like me to declare you my royal companion? Court witch, mayhap?"
I had to laugh. "I don't know."
"Then don't worry about it." Jehanne kissed me. "As a scion of House Courcel, you're welcome to stay here as long as you like. And you're here under my protection because it pleases me to have you here. Rest. Recover. I'll come see you on the morrow. And when you're stronger, you can return to your lessons with that delightful Ch'in gentleman, and you and I can have a good long talk about exactly what Raphael and his coterie of arcane scholars are up to in the countryside."
The latter, I didn't relish. "You thought Master Lo Feng was delightful?"
"Quite." She twisted her hair into a lover's-haste knot. "He's very modest, but Daniel says in his own country, he's known as the Ninth Immortal."
I hadn't known that. "Who are the other eight?"
Jehanne laughed. "I haven't the faintest idea." She stooped and kissed me again. "You be sure and tell me when you find out."
"I will," I promised. "Jehanne… thank you."
She raised her brows. "Why? Do you imagine for an instant I wasn't enjoying myself? I haven't bothered to feign pleasure since I made my marque."
"No." I smiled. "I didn't think that. But I do think you may have saved my life."
"Ah." Jehanne gave me one of her complicated looks, then smiled back at me. "Mayhap I did at that."
With that, my unlikely rescuer departed.
I fell asleep with the scent of her still lingering on my skin.
* * *
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The hardest part about recovering was facing the Court. "You're stalling," Jehanne accused me at the end of a week's time. "You're obviously feeling well enough."
I sighed. I couldn't deny it, having just demonstrated it at length and with considerable enthusiasm. "Will Raphael be there?"
She shook her head. "He's not been