The Dragon Variation by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee Page B

Terran," he said, with a certain dryness. He half-extended a hand to her, thought better of it and reached instead for his wine glass.
    "It would be proper," he murmured, with exquisite care, for who was he to instruct an equal adult in proper conduct? "Proper—and well-intended—for you and I to be bound by contract—wed—at the time our son is Seen by Korval."
    Exultation died with an abruptness that was agony. No lover-like words from Er Thom, Anne thought with uncharacteristic bitterness—when had she had even an endearment from him? This was expedience, nothing more. Unthinkable that a man of Er Thom yos'Galan's melant'i came home to show his delm a doxy and a bastard when he might, with only a little expense, show instead a wife and legitimate heir. Anne blinked through a sudden glaze of tears and willed herself to believe that the pounding of her heart was caused by anger, not anguish.
    "No, thank you," she said shortly, proud that her voice was sharp and even. She turned her head, refusing to look at him, and reached for her glass.
    "Hah." His hand—slim golden fingers, one crowned by the carved amethyst ring of a master trader—his hand lay lightly on her wrist, restraining her, waking fire in her belly.
    "I have given offense," he murmured, taking his hand away. "My intention was—far otherwise, Anne. Please. What must I do to bring us back into Balance?"
    "I'm not offended," she lied, and managed to meet his eyes squarely. "I just don't want to marry you."
    Winged golden brows lifted, eloquent of disbelief. "Forgive me," he said gently. "One recalls the joy shared just recently—as well as that which we knew—before . . ."
    "Did I say I didn't want to go to bed with you?" Anne snapped, all out of patience with him—and with herself. "Far too much of that, my lad! But lust is less of a reason for marrying than, than because it's— proper —and I'm damned if I'll marry for either!" She took a hard breath, barely able to see his face through the dazzle of tears— angry tears.
    "It's your own notion to be taking Shannie to show your delm, not mine. For all of me he can stay uncounted 'til the end of his days! He's a Terran citizen, which is good enough for quite a number of folk, who manage to have good, long, productive lives and—"
    "Anne." He was very close, one knee on the sofa cushion while his hands caught her shoulders, kneading the tight muscles. " Anne ."
    She gasped, half-choked and lifted a hand to wipe at her eyes. Unaccustomed, she looked up into Er Thom's face, heart melting at the distress in his eyes even as passion flared and took fire at his nearness.
    Achingly slow, he lifted a hand, ran light, trembling fingers down her damp cheek, over her lips, purple eyes wide and mesmerizing.
    "I love you," he whispered, "Anne Davis."
    "No." It was a battle to close her eyes, to deny her body the solace of him. Every thread of her ached to believe that whispered avowal, saving only one small bit of sanity that clamored it was nothing but expediency, still.
    "No," she said again, eyes shuttered against him, trembling with need. "Er Thom, stop this. Please."
    Instead, she felt warm breath stir the hairs at her temple an instant before his lips pressed there.
    "I love you," he said again, wonderful, seductive voice shaking with passion. He stroked her hair back with tender fingers, kissed the edge of her ear. "Anne . . ."
    "Er Thom." Her own voice was anything but steady. "Er Thom, you gave me your word . . ."
    She could have sworn she felt the jolt go through him, the icy jag of sanity that broke the flaming fascination of desire for the instant he required to jerk back and away, coming to his feet in a blur of motion—and going entirely still, hands firmly behind his back.
    "Oh, gods."
    Anne shuddered, finding his abrupt absence less easement than added torment. What is this? she asked herself, for the dozenth time since yesterday. She had felt a rapport with Er Thom yos'Galan almost from