In The Face Of Death by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro Read Free Book Online Page B

Falke, going willingly into the furnace of the Egyptian desert in order to be free of her.
    “No, Madelaine. Don’t despair,” he said, with the urgency of one who knew despair well. His arms went around her and he drew her close to him as if to protect her from the weight of grief. “It is unbearable,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her hair.
    She rested her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat, hearing the pulse quicken. “I am told one learns, in time.” Her breath was deep and uneven.
    He reached to turn her face up to his, searching out secrets. “What are you, then? I’d better warn you I don’t hold any truck with the supernatural. And don’t preach religion at me, whatever you do. I get enough of that from the Ewings.” He made an impatient gesture at the mention of his in-laws.
    “No religion,” she promised. “Other than that most religion is against those of us who come to this life.” She stretched to kiss him, feeling yearning and resistance in his mouth. “We die, but slip the hold death has on us, and we live—”
    “On the Elixir of Life,” he said, one hand sliding down her flank. “And how is this mysterious Elixir obtained?”
    “It is taken from those who are willing to give it,” she answered quietly. “Where there is understanding, and passion, there is also great . . . joy.”
    “Joy,” he echoed as if the word were terrible even as he pulled her inexorably nearer, kissing her with what he had intended as roughness but what became a tenderness of such intensity that he felt all his senses fill with her. He tried to push her away but his body would not answer the stern command of his will, and as she guided his hands over the treasure of her flesh, he surrendered to her with all the strength of his desire.
    “Slowly,” she whispered as she flicked her tongue over his nipples, seeing his shock and delight. “It is better if you savor it.”
    “God and the Devils! I am ready to explode!” He kicked back the sheet to show her, proud and embarrassed at once. “Hurry, Madelaine. I am at the brink.”
    “Not yet,” said Madelaine, bending to kiss him again as she straddled him. “Do not deny yourself the full measure of your passion, for you would also deny me. This is not a race where the glory goes to the swiftest.” Then, with exquisite languor, she guided him deep within her.
    His breath hissed through his clenched teeth. “I can’t. . . .”
    “You can,” she promised, remaining very still until he opened his eyes. Then she began to move with him, feeling his guard fall away as his ardor became adoration at the instant her lips brushed his throat.
    They lay together until the first pre-dawn call of birds warned them of coming day.
    “I don’t want to leave,” Sherman said, kissing the corner of her mouth. “You have enthralled me, Madelaine.”
    “And I am bound to you, Tecumseh,” she said.
    With sudden passion, he pulled her close against him, his long fingers tangled in her hair. “What have you done to me?”
    “Touched you,” she answered. “And you me.”
    As he rose, goose-flesh on his pale skin, he touched the arch of her lip. “We will have to be very careful, very discreet. They know, the women here, that a man has appetites, but they will not look on you with the same understanding.”
    “Yes,” she agreed, “I know,” and turned her head to kiss the palm of his hand.
    He gathered up his clothes with care and dressed quickly, listening for the sounds in the street. “I don’t want anyone to know I’ve come here,” he told her, his manner stern. “For both our sakes.”
    She had got out of bed and pulled on a heavy silken peignoir. “I am not about to cry it to the world.”
    He paused in the door, regarding her steadily. “No, you are not,” he conceded with a curious mixture of relief and exasperation. “It isn’t in you to do that.” Then he smiled, and the harshness left his face. He held his arms open to her and