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Love's Beguiling Healer Page 16
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Feeling a right idiot for the flash of disappointment—okay, and feeling a little tingly where she had no right to in the middle of a Meeting Hall, doing a meet'n'greet, and trying to play a sensible healer instead of a hot-blooded tart—Tera tossed her head, flicking her hair back over her shoulder.
"Shall we?” Denyon appeared at her elbow, and only narrowly missed copping a mouthful of hair.
"Oops. Sorry.” She grinned sheepishly.
His all-knowing gaze studied her, but he said nothing. Instead, he led her silently back to the table.
She and Wylin sat down and proceeded to eat. The meat was coated in a mix of herbs and garlic. Yum yum. The vegetables were stir-fried in some kind of sauce. Dare I ask?
Illam suddenly took the empty seat opposite her.
Double yum and darn scrumptious.
"Like the food?” Rilla queried.
"Food? Oh, the food. It's delicious.” Tera smiled at her.
"The meat coating is a specialty of my mother's,” Marx informed her.
"She does delicious coating—” Rilla explained.
"—Over everything,” Marx supplied.
"Vegetables as well—” Rilla added.
"Meat.” Marx licked his fingers.
Bewildered, Tera tried to fathom if they were actually finishing off each other's sentences, or if Marx had simply left off a few words of his last sentence. Looking up, she caught the glint of amusement in Illam's eyes.
"Feeling a little lost?” he asked, his lips quirking.
"I'm not sure,” she replied, unable to help giving a small laugh.
"You'll get used to it. Maybe."
"I may need a translator."
"Now that I can understand."
For a brief moment, they shared a smile. But then Almire started asking Tera questions about Argon, drawing her attention from Illam. But the whole time she was more than aware of him sitting and listening, biting off bits of meat with his strong, white teeth and chewing thoughtfully, his gaze never leaving her face as she talked.
It should have made her nervous. Instead, it made her hot. How easy am I?
She was still talking when Illam excused himself and left the table. She was disappointed, but the conversation with Rilla and Marx soon had her distracted. They started discussing the plans for the following day, and time passed pleasantly until she noticed that most of the Felys were leaving the Meeting Hall.
"It's getting late.” Almire yawned and smacked his lips appreciatively. “I'm fed and now I'm tired. If you'll excuse me, I do believe I'll seek my cozy bed."
"Of course.” Tera looked at Wylin. “I suppose we should retire, too."
"Whenever you're ready,” he returned.
"You should have told me it was so late."
"I am here but to serve.” He flashed her a wide grin.
She rolled her eyes.
They took their leave, Denyon once again accompanying them back to the house. He left them at the door to go to his own home.
Tera noticed that the lights were on in Illam's home, and she wondered what he was doing. Shaking her head at her own curiosity, she entered the house. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day—and a darn interesting one.
* * * *
"How interesting.” The radar watcher leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes at the screen. “Now what are these Felys up to, having visitors? The Felys aren't known for liking intruders."
"The Felys are a ragtag lot at the best of times, Calean. Ferals.” The woman wrinkled her short snout in disgust.
"Ragtag, but still dangerous if provoked, Mitzi."
"They should have died a long time ago. Shame the slave years didn't wipe them out."
"Well, it didn't. There's no sense in dwelling on it."
Her eyes narrowed. “You are too easygoing, Calean."
"I just don't believe in panicking. Let's just see what is happening. As for the Felys, well ... I don't know. We'll report back to Ropar if anything unusual occurs."
Mitzi sniffed, but kept quiet.
* * * *
The Cave
It was nearly finished. She could feel the vibrations within the object. Awed, she stared at it. But her awe was still mixed with fear. And yes, a hint of disgust. Towards herself, and her fellow makers? Maybe.
But it was too late now. There was no turning back from the course they'd set themselves.
By tomorrow, it would be completed. Tomorrow was the day to mark all days.
* * * *
Illam was sitting on his front porch, his chair tilted back, his ankles crossed and his heels resting on the railing. He was watching the progress of the healer with interest.
Tera was dressed in a similar loose shirt and pants that she'd worn the night before, only instead of pale blue, this one was pale yellow. The woman certainly liked her pale colors. Her brunette hair was a slash of beauty against it. He could just about imagine that wealth of hair spread over his pillow.
He was getting a hard-on just watching her. Sad, very sad.
Marx and Rilla were talking nineteen to the dozen to her, and she was doing her best to follow them. They were all carrying containers, including Wylin, who was bringing up the rear, his expression as impassive as always. Except for the twinkle in his eyes.
"Don't you think one of us should be with them?” Denyon appeared at the steps.
"I can see them from here,” Illam drawled.
"She might need a translator."
Remembering the brief camaraderie they'd shared at the table the night before, after she'd said the very same thing, Illam felt warm all over. Maybe the sun was getting a little hot. Maybe it was time he shifted.
Denyon leaned one shoulder against the verandah post and watched the four people heading up to the healers’ hut. “I noticed some of the younger Felys men eyeing Tera up last night."
Illam crashed the chair forward onto all four legs. “What?"
"You might be adverse to diddling with the Argon, but some of our younger men are interested."
"What?” Illam ground his teeth, the hair on his neck bristling.
Denyon gave him a lazy grin. “Just testing."
"You bastard.” Relaxing back in the chair, Illam eyed him sourly, his top lip lifting in a silent snarl.
"Temper, temper. Now I'm going to be busy this morning, so you're going to accompany Tera and Wylin wherever they go. Think you can handle that?"
"Sure."
"See you later, then.” Giving an airy wave, Denyon strode off.
Sometimes his friend had a warped sense of humor. Pushing upright lithely, Illam checked that he was presentable—meaning that he didn't have the obvious sign of arousal, which he seemed to get whenever he had a lustful thought about a certain Argon healer—and finding himself safe, he ambled down the steps and headed for the healers’ hut.
He hadn't even gone up onto the verandah before he heard Marx and Rilla chattering on. When he entered, it was to find Tera with a slightly glazed look on her face, and Wylin grinning hugely.
"Good morning,” he said, breaking into the noise.
Tera turned to him with a look of relief. “Hello."
"Having fun?"
"Oh, yes,” Wylin said.
"We're telling Tera about the Felys,” Rilla said.
"Giving her a brief description—” Marx stated.
"—Of how the kits are conceived,” Rilla finished.
Illam looked at Tera, heat going through him at the memory. “I've already educated her on that."
Wylin stopped grinning.
"Yes, he has,” Tera eagerly agreed, obviously missing the heat in Illam's eyes.
"Oh.” Rilla looked disappointed.
"In fact, I do believe we've been through the mating process,” Illam added.
She was so soft and warm, her tummy so pliable against his kneading fingers.
Tera nodded.
Rilla and Marx stared at them both.
"So how was it?” Rilla finally said eage
rly.
"Huh?” Tera said.
"You and Illam have been through the mating process,” Marx explained. “How was it? Did it feel the same as when two Felys mate, or two Argons mate?"
Tera looked totally flustered for several seconds.
By Jocat, it had been a close call. They'd nearly done it. Illam raised one brow at Tera. Taking enjoyment in her discomfort helped keep his face expressionless, which was a good thing, because Wylin was keeping him under close surveillance.
Tera cleared her throat. “What Illam means is that we've talked about the mating process. We haven't actually done it ourselves."
Marx was disappointed. “What a shame."
"It'd have been interesting.” Rilla sighed.
Scratch interesting. Illam watched the pink in Tera's cheeks from beneath lowered eyelids. I bet it would have been carnal.
"Never mind,” Marx said suddenly. “Maybe there'll be a Felys female that Wylin will find interesting enough to mate with."
Intent on Illam, the statement caught Wylin unawares, and his mouth dropped open in surprise, something Illam was certain didn't happen often.
"Wouldn't that be wonderful!” Rilla beamed. “We can get some good feedback that way!"
"For sure, Lysie won't tell us what it's like to mate with an Argon.” Marx shook his head.
"Then again, maybe Tera might find a Felys male to her liking. If Illam hasn't interested her, then maybe another will.” Rilla nodded. “Just the thing!"
It bloody well was not the thing! Illam glowered at her. “Rilla, is this a research job or a sex match job?"
"It was merely a thought, Illam. Now then,” Rilla looked at Tera, who was trying not to laugh at Wylin. “Where do we start?"
"What? Oh.” Tera bent down and placed a container on the table. “I think we need to unload everything, then organize the day into the different samples we need to get. I need to find out the best times for everyone to come and give samples."
"What sort of samples do you need?” Rilla peered with interest into another container.
This could be a long day. Illam sat in a chair, tilted it back, stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.
"Skin and blood,” Tera began.
"For the DNA?” Marx queried.
"Exactly. I also need hair and nail clippings."
"No problems there."
"I'll do skull measurements, skull readings—"
Oh yeah, I remember that. Illam smiled to himself. I could do that again. His eyes popped open suddenly. That meant she'd be handling the other Felys men the same way she had done him. He frowned.
He noticed that Wylin, who was starting to unpack the equipment, was giving him a thoughtful stare. So he closed his eyes again and tried to relax.
"You'll need a sperm sample, too,” Rilla prattled on.
"Oh my, yes,” Marx agreed.
By Delcat.
"A sperm sample would help,” Tera surprised him by agreeing.
"Who can we get to give us a specimen?” Rilla wondered.
"Preferably a strong, healthy male in his prime,” Tera stated. “Someone who is likely to have a lot of sperm."
Silence filled the cabin, and suddenly Illam didn't want to open his eyes. But he had to do so. He opened them a crack to see the three healers looking pointedly at him. Wylin was biting his lip, trying not to laugh.
The Argon bodyguard is really a bit of a bastard.
"Illam—” Rilla began.
"No!” Snapping upright, Illam's chair crashed onto all four legs.
"Oh, come on,” Marx coaxed. “You're in your prime."
"I just bet you have a hoard of sperm swimming around,” Rilla said.
"You can afford to part with some,” Marx pointed out.
"No."
"We won't watch,” Rilla promised.
"Here.” Tera held out a glass jar.
"What the hell...” He stared at it incredulously. “You want me to fill that up?"
"Well, if you're that virile ... sure."
Wylin had his back to them, his shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth.
"No!” Illam ground out. “I've never been so insulted!"
"Oh, come on,” Tera said patiently. “I'm sure you've had hand jobs before. It's just instead of spilling it on the floor or your hand, you spurt into the jar."
He couldn't believe it. “No, I'm telling you!” He also couldn't believe how desperate he was starting to sound.
"Really, Illam, you're not very cooperative,” Marx said in disappointment.
"Yeah, Illam,” Wylin choked out, his back still turned. “You're not being very—"
"Shut up, Argon,” Illam snarled.
Which only made Wylin's shoulders shake all the more.
Stalking out of the hut, Illam strode to the end of the verandah well away from the door, and took a deep breath. A sperm sample? Him, shoot his load into a sterile jar? By God, not in this lifetime!
"Illam?” Tera's voice sounded behind him.
"No,” he growled.
"It's just a little sample.” Her tone was wheedling.
Swinging around, Illam found her right behind him. Holding the bloody jar. Grabbing her upper arms, he leaned forward so that his face was inches from her own startled face.
"I don't shoot into a jar,” he snarled.
"Look, I didn't mean to offend you.” She sounded perfectly reasonable.
Her warm breath brushed across his lips, and her scent flowed into his senses.
His hormones started to perk up in lively anticipation. Hallelujah!
Heat tingled through him and he watched as her eyes widened, and he felt as though he could drown in the crystal depths. “No jar,” he whispered throatily.
Her gaze flickered over his face, those tingling warm breaths coming more shallowly and rapidly. “No jar?"
"When I ejaculate for you, makit, it won't be in a jar.” The feral in him was starting to awaken at the combination of her scent, her moist lips which were partly open in surprise, the subject ... and his own lustful visions.
"It—it won't?"
"No.” Sliding his cheek across hers, he just managed to avoid rubbing the corner of his mouth against her. He inhaled deeply, filling himself with her scent.
Hearing his inner feral give a yowl of growing heat.
"When I come, Tera, it'll be deep inside your hot little sheath."
She froze. Her breath was hot as she turned her head a little, and he groaned inwardly as that hot breath caressed his sensitive ear.
It was as though they were all alone. Heat was between them, her scent clinging to them both. His hands slid down her arms to grip her wrists.
Finding the glass jar in her hands, he took it from her nerveless fingers and whispered huskily, “No jar. Just you."
"Tera?” Wylin's voice came from inside the hut. “Where do you want this microscope?"
Tera took a deep breath, then stepped back from him. Immediately he felt the loss of her body heat, the coolness replacing it. Her eyes were luminous, her lips so moist he wanted to kiss her deeply and take her essence right then and there.
He looked at her mouth, his eyes hot. His blood thrumming in his ears. By Delcat, I could spill myself right inside that luscious, hot mouth.
There was no doubt that Tera knew his exact thoughts. She licked her lips, then took another step back.
Illam didn't follow her. Wylin's voice had brought him back to reality. Standing on the verandah of the healers’ hut, there was no privacy to do what he wanted. Even to kiss her was to invite speculation.
But, by Delcat, if they'd been in a private place...
"Inside you, Tera.” He couldn't stop the hot promise from slipping out. His gaze rose to lock with hers.
"Tera?” Wylin's voice sounded closer.
"I'm here.” Grabbing the jar from Illam, Tera cleared her throat, swung around on her heel and
walked back to the doorway. “Illam's not going to help with a specimen."
Even as Illam turned away to brace himself on his hands on the railing and stare out over the settlement, he caught a glimpse of Wylin appearing in the doorway.
Wylin was frowning suspiciously. “Tera, are you all right? You look a little—"
"Here, Wylin.” She shoved the jar at him and he took it quickly. “Why don't you give the Felys a sample of your sperm?” Tera strode past him to disappear into the hut.
"Excellent idea!” Marx crowed.
"Oh, yes please!” Rilla said eagerly. “A sample would be just wonderful!"
"No!” Wylin retorted.
Closing his eyes, Illam took deep breaths. He had no doubt that Tera had deliberately diverted Wylin's attention. She didn't want him to know what had transpired between them.
Good. Illam hoped that no one had spotted him and Tera on the verandah.
"Well, hello,” Denyon's voice drawled from a nearby tree. “Nice demonstration of restraint."
Crap.
"How about I take over and you go cool off?"
Illam opened his eyes to a narrow slit. That was all his friend was going to say?
Straight-faced, Denyon added, “Go find yourself a jar."
Yep, too good to be true.
* * * *
The rest of the day passed quickly for Tera. At first, she'd had a hard time trying to ignore the heat that had gathered low in her pelvis. Who would think that a few simple words and a hot look could reduce her to a wanton so quickly?
It had been too long since she'd lain with a man; that was obviously the problem.
Her troubling thoughts soon disappeared, however, with the start of the Felys coming to give samples and to be examined.
The Felys kits were a delightful surprise.
When the first family walked in, it took all her restraint to hide her shock. The kits were about five years old, and an energetic lot. They were also extremely wary of her, and one of them spat at the sight of her. The mother spoke softly to her, smoothing back her fur.
And she had fur all over her body.
Every Felys kit had fine, short fur covering them. There was a tabby kit, a ginger kit, both with a shading of blue, two tortoiseshell kits and a black and white kit with pale gold shadings. Their little ears twitched, and their tongues swiped out to lick their lips. Their bright eyes were fastened on her and Wylin.