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  Tessa couldn’t agree more. But she was perplexed as to why he felt compelled to warn her. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Just have a care, all right?”

  “All right.”

  “Beware in particular of Artemesia. She is highly intelligent and schemes to advance her own cause by climbing upon the shoulders—or corpses—of any who stand in her way.”

  “That’s the impression I got of her.”

  “Tread lightly with her. Never insult her. Never appear more beautiful. And never, ever, demonstrate more intelligence than she.”

  “An alpha female, huh?”

  He nodded soberly. “Territorial. And vicious when crossed. Don’t get me wrong. She’s loyal to friends and can be grandly generous. But she’s ambitious.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  He nodded.

  Silence fell between them, as close to companionable as they’d managed so far. She took the opportunity to cast her mind out across the valley at her feet, seeking any hint of the elusive bronze medallion piece. The signature—if it actually was the correct one—was incredibly faint. Which meant it was distant.

  Odd. She should’ve time-jumped very near to it. She tried to sense what direction to travel to reach it. But every line of energy she sensed led directly to the man next to her.

  Not helpful.

  Thanks to his sorcery performance last night in little more than a towel, she knew he wore no jewelry, no armor, no pouch that might contain a bronze trinket. He couldn’t possibly have the medallion on him. So why was he all she was sensing? She glanced over at him, frowning.

  He was frowning back at her.

  “What?” she asked a trifle irritably.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing. Looking at the valley. The entire Persian army arrayed at my feet is an impressive sight.”

  Rustam snorted. Ha. She was doing something, all right. Energy was surging around her like a roiling thundercloud. He reached out with his mind to sense her thoughts.

  That was strange; he was getting nothing. Not even a general sense of her mood. He could always read people. They displayed their thoughts and feelings like open books. He must be tired. He’d tossed and turned, hot and aroused in his lonely bed, for most of the night.

  The prickling sensation was back, racing across his skin until he felt an urge to scratch all over. “Stop that!”

  Tessa jumped. “Stop what?”

  “Whatever you’re doing.”

  “What are you talking about?” She looked distinctly alarmed now.

  He stepped close, grabbing her by both shoulders when she made to turn away. He hauled her up against him and glared down at her. “Tell me why every time I’m around you, the hairs on my arms stand up. Why I see colored lights at the back of my eyes until I get a headache. Why you drive me mad with want of you. What magic spell do you cast upon me, witch woman?”

  “I’m not a witch, I haven’t cast any magic spells on you, and I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You lie. I don’t even have to hear it in your voice. Your eyes slide away from mine and you vibrate with guilt in my hands. Who are you?”

  “I told you. I’m Tessa of Marconi. I come from far away.”

  He dragged her up higher until she stood on her tiptoes, pressed against him from shoulder to ankles. “Yes, yes. And you were shipwrecked. I know all that. But who are you? Why are you here? Who are your people?”

  Frustration glittered in her otherworldly, silver-blue eyes. He damned well knew the feeling. Stubbornly, she remained silent, denying him the answers he needed.

  He hurled his mind against hers. “Answer me!”

  She moaned in distress. He didn’t care. He slammed her with more power, strangely chaotic and unfocused for him. It zinged back and forth between them, and he absorbed the pain heedlessly, too angry to care about any injury he might cause himself.

  “Rustam, stop!” she cried out.

  “Answer my question. Who. Are. You?”

  “I am…a traveler. I come…from far away.”

  Her mental defenses were astounding. He felt his own power beginning to drain. Was she actually sucking energy out of him? How was she doing that?

  Supremely frustrated, he lifted her entirely off the ground by her upper arms. And kissed her angrily.

  And every bit of energy he’d poured into her slammed back into him in a single blast. He reeled with the force of it. Stumbled backward, setting her on her feet and gripping her as much to keep his own balance as to restrain her.

  She came to him of her own accord then, sliding her arms around his neck. “I don’t know what it is about you,” she mumbled, sounding as frustrated as him. “But I can’t keep my hands off of you. Lord knows, I ought to.”

  And then she kissed him. In an instant, his heartbeat sped up to match hers. Today, their pulses and auras aligned without conscious effort on his part. The indigo haze wrapped around them in a blanket of power that magnified their desire tenfold.

  He plundered her mouth with his, and their tongues danced a ballet in perfect unison. Where his body was hard, hers was soft. Where his was angular, hers was curved. Where he pulled her close, she yielded. And where she drew his spirit into hers, he went. Willingly. Completely. Helplessly.

  He’d heard of this sort of bonding before. But it was mostly the stuff of ancient legends and children’s bedtime stories among his people. Soul bonding they called it. But she wasn’t even remotely of his clan or even his nation. And yet the dizzying whirl of their combined energy built even more quickly and violently than last night, exploding in a burst of light as bright as a new-formed sun.

  How they ended up on the ground, with him leaning back against a boulder and her curled in his lap, he had no idea. He stroked her golden hair absently and she snuggled in closer against his chest, apparently asleep.

  Did he actually pass out? The thought was shocking, yet he was too calm, too damned indolent all of a sudden, to care. More shocking was the fact that his anger was gone. All of it. Even the deep, dark wellspring from which his power emerged.

  What had this woman done to him?

  Five

  The leader of Alpha Team stood in front of his employer’s desk, wincing.

  “What do you mean, you couldn’t find the document? It had to be in the lab! I had solid intelligence that the professor keeps it there!”

  “There wasn’t time, sir. The smoke bombs started to wear off and we had to get out. We did succeed in locating the safe and identifying the type of locks on it. The thumbprint system will be easy enough to circumvent, but the retinal scanner and the digital lock itself will be a bitch. We could just blow the whole thing up. Everything inside would be destroyed and your professor would be out of business.”

  “That’s no good. She’s no doubt got a copy squirreled away somewhere. Besides, I want to read that book.”

  “Then why aren’t we trying to track down the copy, instead?”

  His employer studied him speculatively across his burlwood executive desk. “I don’t know where to begin looking for it.”

  “With all due respect, that’s what we’re for, sir.”

  He answered with a slow nod and a dawning smile. “Make it so, then. But hurry.”

  “What time frame are we looking at for retrieval?”

  The client’s gaze clouded. “I don’t know exactly. My contact wasn’t specific. He just said I needed to be in possession of the information in that notebook soon.”

  “Or else what, sir?”

  “I’ve been told that whoever possesses the data will be in a position to take over the world. If I don’t get my hands on it, I won’t be that person.”

  The Alpha Team leader stared. Ooh-kay, then. Note to self: the boss man was a whacko megalomaniac head case. Oh, he and the boys would keep working and taking the guy’s lavish money. But any need to die for the client had just dropped off the bottom of the scale.


  His employer was speaking. “…can’t emphasize enough the importance of what you’re doing. Time is of the essence. That journal is critical. Everything depends on it.”

  Tessa roused slowly from…sleep? A faint? A conk on the head? She wasn’t quite sure. She hugged Rustam a little more closely, enjoying the shelter of his unbelievably strong arms.

  Whoa. Rewind. Rustam’s arms? She jerked upright, startled and furious with him and at herself for getting into this situation. She had no business sitting in anybody’s lap, dammit! She had important work to do and this was a huge distraction.

  “I gather by the look of horror on your face that you are awake and ready for another battle of wits?” he said wryly.

  Irritation slitted her eyes. “Don’t get sarcastic with me. You’re the one who dragged me out here and then kissed me. Women in this part of the world may swoon at the slightest flex of your perfect biceps or one sultry look from those sexy eyes of yours, but I’m not that gullible.”

  He grinned lazily and drawled, “Perfect biceps? Thank you. Say something else nice about me.”

  She tried to leap out of his lap, but a casual tightening of said biceps held her firmly in place. “Oooh! You’re infuriating! I hate men like you!”

  “Temper, temper.” He tsked. “And as for this swooning business. Seems to me that’s exactly what you just did for me…”

  He laughed, a mellow sound as lazy as a summer day. Since when was he Mr. Easygoing? She frowned. For that matter, when was she ever this cranky?

  Rage bubbled up from deep inside her for no apparent reason, like lava spilling out of a volcano. An urge to do violence, to hurt someone, all but overcame her. Thankfully, Rustam released her just then—before she lost control and scratched his eyes out.

  She leaped to her feet and whirled to glare down at him. As quickly as he turned her loose her anger dissipated, leaving her drained, but calm once more.

  He gazed up at her pleasantly for a moment, then his dark eyebrows slammed together. He jumped to his feet with such agility and speed she barely saw him move.

  He snarled, “Do that again and I will kill you.”

  “Rustam, I am a patient person. But if you do not cease making wild accusations and talking in riddles, I am going to lose my temper.”

  “And then what?” he threatened silkily.

  “I don’t make threats,” she replied evenly. “I just do what the situation calls for.”

  His fists clenched, and for a startled moment she thought he might actually strike her. But instead he spun away, cursing violently.

  She released her breath slowly. She got the distinct feeling she had just played with fire and somehow managed to escape unscathed. Barely.

  Obviously, she and this man were oil and water. They needed to stay away from each other, lest they drive each other completely crazy.

  “I’m going back to the palace,” she announced quietly. Without waiting for him to follow, she turned and started down the mountainside.

  Out of reflex more than conscious thought, she cast her awareness outward to see if she could pick up the direction of the medallion again. Before Rustam had kissed her senseless, or whatever the heck that had been up there, she’d gotten the vague impression that the bronze piece was well east of her current position and possibly moving south.

  No surprise, now she was getting nothing but chaos. That man seriously messed with her head. Not to mention her talent—

  Her random thoughts screeched to an abrupt halt. Rustam messed with her psychic ability. She’d been able to sense the medallion last night until he’d come into the room. When he’d climbed on her bed, she’d briefly sensed it again, and then she’d kissed his lights out and lost her connection to the piece again. Today, she’d had it briefly up on top of that mountain, and then he’d kissed her, and poof! No more medallion.

  Clearly it was time for her to leave the exalted presence of Biceps Boy and go after that bronze wedge by herself, far, far away from his corrupting influence.

  Even if he did kiss like a god.

  She might not have kissed all that many guys in her day, but there was no doubt in her mind this man was in a class by himself when it came to kissing. Even now, she craved more of him and his magical mouth. And she was not a craving kind of girl.

  When she reached the army encampment, she experienced a moment of real trepidation. She had to make her way across a good chunk of the camp, alone. In provocative clothing designed to make her look like a courtesan.

  She would feel much safer with Rustam’s towering strength at her side as she hesitated on the shore of the sea of men. I’m an army officer, dammit! I know how to walk among the rank and file and not get messed with. Of course, the rank and file she strolled past back home were eminently more civilized than this bunch.

  No help for it. She squared her shoulders, assumed a don’t-mess-with-me glare and waded into the jumble of tents.

  She was abjectly relieved to reach the palace complex in one piece. That was not a route she would attempt alone at night, nor one, frankly, she would like to try again in broad daylight. She felt as if she’d just walked through the worst of crime-ridden neighborhoods and survived by sheer, dumb luck.

  She had to leave this place and head east and south if she was going to accomplish her mission. It was early afternoon now. By the time she procured supplies for the journey, it would probably be too late to leave today—especially with Xerxes’s army to get around. First thing in the morning, then.

  Thankfully, the gold coins Athena had sent with her went a long way in the city’s main marketplace. With a mobile army all around her, finding a horse, saddle, bedroll, water skins and a sack of dried food posed no great difficulty.

  Hauling her new gear back to her room garnered her no end of strange looks, however. Apparently, ladies of her rank didn’t usually fetch and carry. But she’d be damned if she would force Malah or some other slave to do manual labor for her when she was plenty strong and fit enough to do it for herself. Let them think her an oddball foreigner. She could live with that, and she would be gone soon enough.

  When Tessa arrived at her room, she stowed her supplies beneath her bed. It worried her not to be able to lock her room. She didn’t want to be robbed while she attended tonight’s feast. That morning, Artemesia had ordered her to do so, and Tessa hadn’t a clue what might happen if she turned the imperious queen down. Instead, she’d meekly consented to come to the feast.

  If she was lucky, maybe Rustam wouldn’t show up. She could eat a little supper, pay her polite respects to Artemesia, and then slip away and get a good night’s sleep before she set out.

  But when Malah arrived at sunset, carrying a pale blue gown over her arm, so sheer the girl’s skin was visible through several layers of the fabric, Tessa had serious second thoughts about the whole venture.

  “I can’t wear that!” she exclaimed as Malah shook out the gown for her.

  “You have no choice, my lady. Artemesia sent it for you. You will give her grave insult do you not wear it.”

  “But…it’s see-through!”

  Malah frowned. “’Tis the fashion, ma’am. And you’ve a nice enough figure for your height.”

  Tessa grimaced at the backhanded compliment. “I refuse to parade around at an orgy dressed in that thing. I’d be asking to be jumped by every male in the room!”

  The servant’s mouth twitched. “I believe that is precisely the idea, my lady.”

  She rolled her eyes. Now what? She dared not offend Artemesia. Especially not after Rustam’s earlier warning about those who crossed the queen ending up dead. But Tessa couldn’t possibly go out in that…negligee!

  “Can we put my white shift under it?” she asked.

  Malah considered. “We would have to add a belt…. I could probably borrow one from Artemesia’s wardrobe. I can ask her chief dresser if you like….”

  “Just don’t make it too nice a belt. I’m told she doesn’t like to be outsho
ne.”

  Malah made a face. “Aye, that is true enough.” The maid eyed her speculatively. “Something simple, I should think. Delicate. A piece to compliment your beauty and not overpower it.”

  Tessa sighed. “Just make me as ugly as you possibly can without making Artemesia angry.”

  The maid frowned, obviously judging her temporary mistress more than a little mad but too aware of her place to comment upon it.

  Malah showed her to a communal bath a little while later, where Tessa briskly shampooed her hair and scrubbed off the grime of the day’s hike. Thankfully, the place was not crowded. She gathered from the bath mistress that most of the nobles had bathed earlier and were already deep into their preparations for tonight’s celebration.

  The attendant, who turned out to be the gossipy sort, also hinted that tonight’s feast was rumored to be special. Apparently, Xerxes had been closeted with his kings and priests all day, and some sort of an announcement was expected.

  Tessa winced. She prayed the emperor wasn’t going to launch his army against Thermopylae tonight. She needed to get out of here and well away from the Persian army before the fighting commenced. The last thing she needed was to get trapped in the middle of a war!

  She put up with Malah’s fussing and fluffing and pleating and draping as patiently as she could. She’d never been a primp-happy female in the twenty-first century, and she wasn’t one now. Finally, the maid pronounced her ready for the feast. Tessa had no mirror in which to examine herself, so she would have to take Malah’s word for it.

  Because the gown was sleeveless, she slipped her all-important bronze-and-quartz arm cuff into her small pouch and tied it to her belt. She reached for her dagger, but Malah gasped in alarm.

  “Oh, no, m’lady! ’Tis forbidden to carry arms within the emperor’s presence! If you were discovered with that you would be put to death on the spot!”

  Tessa jerked her hand away from the dagger. Yikes. The true extent of the danger a time traveler faced struck her yet again. Athena might be able to implant the language and culture of a time period, but not even the professor could cover every detail. Were it not for Malah, she would have committed a grave crime without even knowing it to be one.