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Almost.
“Shota, I’ve come to talk with you.”
“Talk is for lovers,” she said, a coy smile seeping through her exquisite features.
She slipped her fingers into the hair at the back of his head as her soft smile warmed affectionately. Her eyes, joining in her smile, reflected her delight at seeing him. She seemed at that moment more pleased, more quietly satisfied, more at peace than he had ever seen Nicci look. She also looked so much like Nicci that he was having trouble convincing himself to keep in mind that it was Shota. If nothing else, she acted far more in character with Shota than with Nicci. Nicci would never be so forward. It had to be Shota.
She gently pulled him closer. At that moment, Richard had trouble trying to think of a reason to resist. None came presently to mind. He couldn’t stop gazing into her alluring eyes. He felt himself being swept away with the simple pleasure of gazing at Nicci’s entrancing face.
“And if that is your offer, Richard, then I accept.”
She had drifted so close to him that he could feel the sweet breath of her words on his face. Her eyes closed. Her soft lips met his in a slow, luxurious kiss that he did not return. Nonetheless, he didn’t force her away, either.
As her arms drew him tighter into the embrace, into the kiss, it seemed to scramble his thinking and completely immobilize him. Even more than the kiss, that embrace awakened a terrible longing for the comfort of steadfast support, sheltering devotion, and tender acceptance. More than anything, the promise of that long-absent solace was what disarmed him.
He could feel every inch, every curve, every rise and fall of her firm body pressing against his. He knew that he was trying to think of something other than that kiss, that embrace, that body, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was. In fact, he was having a great deal of difficulty making himself think at all.
It was because of that kiss. It was a kiss that made him forget who he was, or why he was there, even though, oddly enough, it didn’t seem to be a kiss that necessarily promised love, or even lust. He wasn’t sure what it promised. It almost seemed to be conditional.
One thing he did know was that it was very different from the kiss Nicci had given him back in the stable in Altur’Rang just before he’d left. That kiss had carried the extraordinary pleasure and serenity of magic, if not other things. The real Nicci had been behind that kiss. Despite the visual illusion, this was not Nicci. This was a kiss that seemed irresistible, as a great weight might be irresistible, but not really all that…erotic. Even so, it threatened to tangle him up in its cautious questions and silent promises.
“Nicci—or Shota—or whoever you are,” Cara growled through clenched teeth, fists at her sides, “just what do you think you’re doing?”
She pulled away, turning her head slightly, her cheek resting against Richard’s, to gaze curiously at Cara. Delicate fingers idly twined their way through the hair at the back of his head. Richard’s mind was reeling.
Cara backed away a bit as Shota-in-Nicci’s-skin, with her other hand, tenderly cupped the Mord-Sith’s chin.
“Why, nothing more than what you want.”
Cara backed another step so that her face would be out of range of the comforting hand. “What?”
“This is what you want, isn’t it? I would think that you would be grateful that I’m helping you with your grand plan.”
Cara planted her fists on her hips. “I don’t know what in the world you’re talking about.”
“Why so angry?” The smile turned sly. “I didn’t come up with this. You did. This is your plan—the one you hatched all by yourself. I’m simply helping you bring it to life.”
“What makes you think…?” Cara seemed to run out of words.
The blue-eyed gaze that looked so much like Nicci’s slid to Richard. The smile returned as she studied his features from only inches away.
“This young woman is such a dear friend and loyal protector. Has your dear friend and loyal protector told you what she has all planned out for you, Richard?” She touched his nose. “Such plans, they are, too. She has the rest of your life all thought out and arranged for you. You really should ask her sometime what she is plotting for you.”
Cara’s face suddenly went slack with understanding and then it went crimson.
Richard grasped Shota by the shoulders and eased her back, forcing her hand to slip off his shoulder. At the same time he renewed his efforts to regain control of himself.
“You’ve already said it—Cara is my friend. I do not fear what she may want for my life. You see, despite what friends and loved ones want for me, or hope I will achieve, it’s my life and I decide what I will try to make of it. People can plan or hope all they want for those they care about, but in the end it is each individual who must take responsibility for their own life and make the choice for themselves.”
Her wide smile showed her teeth. “How deliciously innocent you are to think such things.” Her fingers combed back his hair. “I would strongly advise you to ask her what she is plotting to do with your heart.”
Richard glanced to Cara. She looked at the same time on the verge of both exploding in rage and fleeing in panic. Instead of either she stood her ground and kept quiet. Richard didn’t know what Shota was talking about, but he did know that this was not the time or place to find out. He couldn’t allow Shota to lead him away from his purpose.
He also noticed that Cara had a white-knuckled fist around her Agiel.
“Shota, enough of this charade. Cara’s wishes and intentions are my concern, not yours.”
Nicci smiled sadly. “So you think, Richard. So you think.”
The hazy air around the woman shimmered and Nicci was no longer Nicci, but Shota. She was no longer a dreamy phantasm, but a clear vision. Her hair, instead of blond, was just as thick but a wavy auburn. Her black dress had changed into a wispy, variegated gray, layered affair, cut just as low, with loose points that lifted ever so slightly in the breeze. She was every bit as beautiful as the valley around her.
As Shota turned her attention to Cara, her expression tightened dangerously. “You hurt Samuel.”
“I’m sorry.” Cara said with a shrug. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”
Shota arched an eyebrow over her threatening glare, as if to say she didn’t believe a word of it.
“I meant to kill him,” Cara said.
Shota’s anger melted away. An incandescent smile accompanied a genuine, if brief, laugh. She regarded Richard with a sidelong glance, the smile still on her lips.
“I like her. You can keep her.”
Richard recalled that Cara had once made that very same pronouncement to him about Kahlan.
“Shota, I told you, I have to talk to you.”
Her bright, clear almond eyes took him in with a sense of wonder. “So you have come offering to be my lover?”
Richard noticed Samuel off through the trees, watching, his yellow eyes glowing with hatred.
“You know I haven’t.”
“Ah.” Her smile returned. “What you mean to say, then, is that you have come because you want something from me.” She caught one of the floating points of her dress. “Isn’t that right, Richard?”
Richard had to remind himself to stop staring into her ageless eyes. But it was so hard to make himself glance away. It was as if Shota controlled where his gaze rested and he was having trouble keeping it resting in proper places.
Kahlan had told him once that Shota had been bewitching him. Kahlan said that Shota couldn’t help it, it was just what witch women did. It came naturally to them.
Kahlan.
That thought of her again jolted his mind.
“Kahlan is missing.”
Shota’s brow wrinkled ever so slightly. “Who?”
Richard sighed. “Look, something terrible is going on. Kahlan, my wife—”
“Wife! Since when did you take a wife?”
Her expression curdled into a heated glare. By the
sudden anger powering her features and the way her cleavage heaved at the brink of the low-cut dress, Richard knew that she was not feigning surprise. She truly didn’t remember Kahlan.
Richard ran his own fingers back through his hair as he gathered his thoughts and started again.
“Shota, you’ve met Kahlan several times. You know her quite well. Something has happened to erase everyone’s memory of her. No one remembers her, you included, and—”
“Except you?” she said with incredulity. “You alone remember her?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Length won’t make it true.”
“It is true,” Richard insisted. He gestured heatedly. “You were at our wedding.”
She folded her arms. “I don’t think so.”
“The first time I came here, you had captured Kahlan and had covered her in snakes—”
“Snakes.” Shota smiled. “You’re saying I liked this woman and are suggesting that I treated her indulgently?”
