Prince of Stone (Imperia) by Gena Showalter

Prince of Stone (Imperia) by Gena Showalter

Author:Gena Showalter [Showalter, Gena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HQN Books
Published: 2020-02-09T18:30:00+00:00


CHAPTER TWELVE

I AM HOLDING her orgasm ransom, and getting nowhere fast.

Three days passed since Gray’s visit, and Jorlan had yet to give Katie her prize. Every morning she told him, I’m still thinking about your semiproposal weighing the pros and cons, I just haven’t come up with a concrete answer yet. I’m sorry.

Moving to Imperia might be a moot point, anyway. They’d met with twelve more psychics, all frauds. He’d begun to wonder if he’d have to spend his remaining days on Earth.

The prospect should have frustrated him. Alas. Parts of him celebrated the chance to stay. Anything to keep Katie.

They’d developed a routine.

Morning: jog, then visit with four psychics.

Afternoon: eat lunch, work at the Victorian.

Evening: eat dinner, talk and watch television.

Twilight: sleep, with Katie in the bed and Jorlan on the floor, and fantasize.

Though his body and mind screamed that he tup her at last, he resisted. What was the Earth saying? Oh, aye. If she wanted the milk, she had to buy the cow.

Something like that. He’d done his best to win her over with pleasantries and courtesies. But…his solicitous manners seemed to have the wrong effect on Katie. Rather than becoming desperate for his touch, she had retreated emotionally each day.

The continued failure with Katie and the psychics had taken a toll, his calm demeanor nothing but a fragile veneer.

Only nine short days remained until the curse turned him into a statue once again.

He had to make Katie love him. Had to make her fall by whatever means necessary. But what could he try that he had not already tried?

Pursue her sexually—done. Rouse her jealousy—done. Share his past with her, give her time, pursue a friendship—done, done, done. Yet, his efforts had gotten him nothing but disappointment.

Curse the situation, and curse her! He’d offered her more than he’d ever offered another. What did she want from him? What was he missing?

If only this day had not seemed destined for failure, as well. This morning, they were involved in a minor car crash. She’d clipped a stationary pole because “it came out of nowhere!” After meeting with the false psychics, they’d gone through a “drive in” to order food. He’d eaten some kid of breakfast sandwich, and promptly gotten sick. Plus, the new clothing he wore—the item Katie called “underwear”—was nigh smashing his man parts.

He was not in a good mood.

Worst of all, there’d been only two names left on their list of psychics. One had been nearby, the other about four hours away. An eight-hour trip in total. They’d decided to visit the close one today, putting their daily total at five rather than the usual four.

Now they exited the building, into the too hot sunlight. Birds soared high above him, circling and searching for food. A soft wind danced about, carrying a gentle floral scent.

“Well, that’s all of the close ones,” Katie said, shielding her eyes by pressing the side of a hand against her brow. “We have officially visited every psychic with halfway decent reviews. After we complete our work at the Victorian, I’ll put together another list tonight.



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