Page 78 of Company of Thieves
What seemed like hours later, I attempted to put into words the feelings that he stirred in me. “You are ... you are ...” I couldn’t seem to catch my breath enough to actually speak. I looked over to where he lay on his back, so wonderfully male, and yet with a caring and gentle heart.
“Magnificent at lovemaking?” he asked, his eyes closed, and his chest heaving. “The master of all sexual pleasures?”
“All that, and so much more.” I rolled over until I was propped up on him, leaning down to kiss his orange-flavored lips. “I love you, prince of sexual pleasure. Promise me that you won’t do anything foolish.”
He opened his eyes at that, his hands moving around to pull me up tighter to him. “It’s not my intention to leave you a widow, little dove.”
“I know it isn’t, but I just want you to remember that when your father does something to enrage you, which I know he will. So long as I have to stay in this world, I don’t intend on doing so without you.”
His eyes narrowed. “In this world?”
“If I told you that Jack and I came from another world, different from this one, would you think I was crazy?”
“No,” he said slowly, sounding thoughtful. “I’d say it wasn’t very likely, but ...”
“But?” I prodded, not wanting to go into a detailed explanation of how we got there.
“But it does explain why you have such a difficult time accepting certain aspects of society.” He studied me for a minute. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
I thought about that, then shook my head, gently biting his shoulder. “No. It honestly doesn’t matter how we got here. Once, I had wanted to go home so badly that I was ready to die for it, but now I can’t think of anywhere else I want to be than sharing my life with you, and our possible miracle. Does that make you feel weird?”
“It makes me feel blessed on many levels,” he said, sliding a hand between us to caress my belly. “Do not fear for me, Hallie. I’m not about to do anything foolish when I know I have you and your knuckles to return to.”
I smiled into his collarbone, and relaxed into him, sated, loved and in love, and so happy I felt like bursting into a Disney song.
Four days later, I learned why Alan was famed as one of the most respected warlords in Europe: it wasn’t because he was brutal like his father, but because he was just the opposite—although he defended himself and his company when needed, he seldom used lethal force when attacking a target, preferring instead to find alternate ways to achieve his goals.
Which was why, instead of using brute force to try to beat the crap out of his father, we walked into a church in Pest, Hungary, and met with the last person on earth I ever thought Alan would agree to see: Etienne Briel.
“Etienne,” he said, his voice diplomatically neutral even though I had previously sat through an approximately half-hour-long lecture of how I was not, under any circumstances, to leave his side even for the direst of situations.
Etienne’s eyes narrowed at Alan, who was in his pretty armor, gold Moghul wear, and dashing turban, the tail of which hung down over his shoulder. I could see the moment when Etienne correlated Alan’s elegant voice with the body of Akbar. His eyebrows shot up, and he swore under his breath before giving me a swift glare and Alan a curt nod. “I see there is more depth to you than I previously imagined. I will not underestimate you again, Akbar. Or do you prefer Alan Dubain?”
“The latter is fine,” Alan said mildly. To my right, Zand stood silent, one hand on the hilt of his sword, while on Alan’s left, Az lurked in a generally menacing manner. “We would like to discuss with you the arrangement you have with the imperator.”
Etienne smiled an unpleasant smile, the four men behind him smirking along with him. I wished I had convinced Alan to allow me to bring my bow, but he insisted that it would not leave Etienne in a mood conducive to negotiation.
“You wish to make your own agreement with the Black Hand?” he asked, much to my surprise. I’d figured Alan would have to do a lot of fast talking to get him to agree to work with us. He made a gesture that was part bow. “By all means, let me hear it.”
“You seek to take control of Prussia from William,” Alan said, his voice now smooth as silk. I realized that was the tone he used when stretching his diplomatic muscles.
Etienne rolled his eyes. “I would have thought that was fairly obvious to you when you and that treacherous Octavia were members of the Black Hand.”
Alan inclined his head in acknowledgment. “What I don’t understand is why you look to the imperator to make that happen.”
“What is the point of this?” Etienne asked, suddenly suspicious. “Do you seek to make me question your father’s intentions? We have an agreement.”
“An agreement that he will disregard as soon as he gains what he wants, just as he’s disregarded every other agreement that did not fit in with his plans. You look skeptical, Etienne, but surely you, with your network of spies, must know that the imperator has had many treaties in place that he has ignored once he had what he wanted. Do you think he claimed control of Turkey, Greece, and Italy because their rulers were weak? Iago could have called William—and did when he finally wanted the Moghuls out of Italy—while the king of Greece spent thirty years in exile before he finally ousted my father. Turkey is still under the imperator’s control, while the former king and his family are buried under the palace floors.”
I looked at Alan in surprise. His voice was now flinty.
Etienne looked skeptical, but Alan was at his most persuasive, and it would have taken a stronger man than him to resist. “How does this matter to me?”
“The imperator intends on marrying Constanza. You realize what that will mean, don’t you?”
“He wishes to replace the son he says abandoned him,” Etienne snapped, but I heard a thread of concern in his voice.
Alan’s eyebrow rose. “And the coincidence that marriage to the duchess will give him a claim to Prussia, easing his way into Western Europe, means nothing?”
