Richard wished she had used words that hadn't put such an explicit picture in his head. He watched the rise and fall of her silken dress. He forced himself to take a drink of tea, only to be confronted unexpectedly with her lip print, He wiped a bead of sweat from behind his ear.

"You were speaking of a condition?"

"Forgive me, Lord Rahl. I wanted you to understand my fear, so you might consider my condition. I was so frightened." She hugged her arms to herself, causing the dress to fold between her breasts as they pressed together.

Richard looked down at his tray of dinner as he rubbed his fingertips on his forehead. "I understand. The condition?"

She stiffened with courage. "I will surrender Kelton if you will offer me your personal protection."

Richard looked up. "What?"

"You killed those creatures out front. It's said that none but you can kill them. I'm terrified of those monsters. If I side with you, then the Order may send them after me. If you will allow me to stay here under your protection until the danger is over, then Kelton is yours."

Richard leaned forward. "You just want to feel safe?"

She nodded with a slight wince, as if she feared he would lop off her head for what she was to say next. “I must be given a room near yours, so that if I scream, you will be close enough to come to my aid."

"And…"

She finally gathered the courage to meet his eyes.

"And.. nothing. That's the condition."

Richard laughed. The anxiety released its constriction of his chest. "You just want to be protected, much as my guards protect me? Duchess, that's not a condition, that's merely a simple favor — a perfectly reasonable and proper desire for shelter from our merciless enemies. Granted." He pointed. "I'm staying in the guest rooms, off that way. They're all empty. As one who sides with us, you're an honored guest, and may have your choice. You can have one right beside mine, if you would feel safer."

She had not even smiled before, in comparison with the radiance that came to her face now. Her hands crossed over her breasts. She let out a huge sigh as if liberated from the greatest of dreads. "Oh, Lord Rahl, thank you."

Richard brushed his hair back from his forehead. "First thing tomorrow, a delegation, escorted by our troops, will leave for Kelton. Your forces must be brought under our command."

"Brought under. . yes, of course. Tomorrow. They will have a personal letter from me, and the names of all our officials to be informed. Kelton is hereby a part of D'Hara." She bowed her head, her dark curls slipping across her rosy cheeks. "We are honored to be the first to join. Ail Kelton will fight for freedom."

Richard let out a huge sigh of his own. "Thank you. Duchess… or should I call you Queen Lumholtz?"

She sat back, her wrists draped on the arms of the chair, her hands pendent. "Neither." One leg slid upward as she crossed it over the other. "You should call me Cathryn, Lord Rahl."

"Cathryn, then, and please, call me Richard. Quite frankly, I'm getting tired of everyone calling me. ." As he stared into her eyes, he forget what he was going to say.

With a coy smile, she leaned forward, one breast slipping past the table's brink. Richard realized he was sitting on the edge of his chair again as he watched her twist a ringlet of black hair around a finger. He focused on the tray of food before himself in an attempt to control his roving eyes.

"Richard, then." She giggled, a sound not in the least bit girlish, but both husky and womanly at the same time, and not at all ladylike. He held his breath, lest he sigh out loud. "I don't know if I can gel used to addressing such a great man as the Master of all D'hara so intimately."

Richard smiled. "Perhaps it will simply take practice, Cathryn."

"Yes, practice," she said in a breathy voice. She suddenly blushed. "Look at me, going on again. Those painfully handsome gray eyes of yours do make a woman forget herself. I had better leave you to your dinner before it gets cold." Her gaze lingered on the tray between them. "It looks delicious."

Richard jumped up. "Let me have some brought for you."

She withdrew from the brink of the table, putting her shoulders back against the chair. "No, I couldn't. You're a busy man, and you've already been too kind."

"I'm not busy. I was just having a bite before I went to bed. At least you could sit with me while I ate, and perhaps share a little of it with me? There's more here than I can eat — it would just go to waste."

She drew closer to him again, pressing against the table. "Well, it does look sumptuous.. and if you aren't going to eat it all… maybe just a nibble, then."

Richard grinned. "What would you like? Stew, spiced eggs, rice, Iamb?"

At the mention of Iamb she let out a throaty murmur of pleasure. Richard threaded the gold-rimmed white plate across the tray. He hadn't had any intention of eating the lamb himself; since the gift had awakened in him he wasn't able to eat meat. Something to do with the magic at the time the gift manifested itself, or perhaps it was as the Sisters had told him: all magic must be in balance. Since he was a war wizard, maybe he couldn't eat meat in order to balance the killing he sometimes had to do.

Richard offered her the knife and fork. Smiling again, she shook her head and with her fingers picked up the lamb chop. "Keltans have a saying that if it's good, nothing should come between you and the experience."

"Then I hope it's good," Richard heard himself say. For the first time in days he didn't feel lonely.

With her brown eyes fixed on his, she leaned forward on her elbows and took a dainty bite. Transfixed, Richard waited.

"So… is it good?"

In answer, her eyes rolled back in her head and her lids slid closed while she hunched her shoulders and moaned in perfect rapture. Her gaze came down, restoring the torrid connection. Her mouth enveloped the meat, and her flawless white teeth tore off a succulent chunk. Her lips were slick with it. He didn't think he had ever seen anyone chew so slowly.

Richard pulled the doughy center of the bread in two, giving her the one with the most butter. With the crust, he scooped rice out of the brown cream. His hand paused before his mouth as she took the butter off in one long lick.

She let out a throaty purr of approval. "I love how soft and slippery it feels against my tongue," she explained in little more than a whisper. From her glistening, dangling fingers, she let the chunk of bread drop to the tray.

She watched his eyes as she dragged her teeth across the bone, gnawing along its ridge. With sucking nibbles, she scoured the length clean. The piece of bread waited before Richard's mouth.

Her tongue stroked across her lips. "Best I've ever had."

Richard realized that his fingers were empty. He thought that he must have eaten the scoop of rice until he saw the white splat on the tray under him.

She plucked an egg from the bowl, pressed her red lips around it, and bit it in half. "Umm. Luscious." She placed the round end of the other half to his lips. "Here, try it."

Its silken surface had a mildly spicy tang against his tongue and a flexible, resilient feel. She pushed it all the way in with one finger. It was chew or choke, He chewed.

Her gaze left his to roam the tray. "What have we here? Oh, Richard, don't tell me it's…" She swirled her first and second fingers around the bowl with the pears. She sucked the thick white sauce off her first finger. Some of the coating on the other dribbled down her hand to her wrist. "Oh, yes. Oh, Richard, this is fabulous. Here."

She put her second finger up to his lips. Before he realized it, she had the whole length in his mouth. "Suck it clean," she insisted. "Isn't that the best you've ever had?" Richard nodded, trying to catch his breath after she drew her finger out. She tilted her wrist. "Oh, please, lick it off before it gets on my dress." He took her hand up in his and put it to his mouth. The taste of her galvanized him. His lips on her flesh made his heart pound painfully.