Free Rital of Proof by Dara Joy

the way where others have followed." He watched her carefully.
    "And is that what you wish to plant in your garden?" she asked pointedly. What he was implying was so radical, it would surely ostracize him from decent society, especially if he spoke of it to others.
    He watched her steadily. "Yes."
    She sucked in her breath. "And how do you hope to accomplish such a thing? Surely such seeds would not grow in this soil and might in fact end up poisoning your entire house."
    "One never knows what can take root when the proper conditions are met."
    "Have a care, Jorlan." She put all pretense aside. "It is one thing to entertain outlandish notions, quite another to attempt to act upon them."
    " 'Outlandish'?" His nostrils flared.
    "You would disgrace the Duchene for a youthful whim?"
    "This is no youthful whim. But you needn't concern yourself, Marquelle. I assure you, I would never hurt my grandmother."
    She breathed a little easier at that statement. For a minute, she wasn't sure if he did not have some foolish escapade in mind. "I suppose not; you do realize that you are more apt to cause wagging tongues by our walk last night than by anything else?"
    He shrugged. "I do not think I am that interesting a topic to the Slice."
    "Then you underestimate your charm."
    "Charm?" His lips curled in a sneer of disgust. "Is that what you call it?"
    "Among other things." She let her gaze travel the length of him. It was ironic that one so blessed with natural attributes should be so opposed to the appreciation of them by the ladies of the Select Quarter.
    Unlike other come-outs, Jorlan did not get flustered or nervous at her blatant regard. Instead he met her perusal with a steady regard of his own that made her slightly uncomfortable. With his looks, she supposed he was used to women trying to chase a "bit o' the velvet."
    What was it about this young man that gave him the maturity and the knowing not usually found in men twice his age, if ever?
    A disturbing thought occurred to her. Surely he had not... ?
    No, she had tasted him herself, experienced firsthand his initial trembling, his slightly hesitant touch. Whatever made Jorlan different was inherent in him and had nothing to do with any outside influence or experience.
    They walked by a mesh-pond. Tiny crisscrossed fibers covered the liquid underlayer of the plant, forming a red ripple fading out to pink on the edges. The mesh-pond was in bloom; several tiny pink-and-white buds dotted its surface. It was a charming sight.
    As they strolled by, the mesh-pond croaked slightly, begging Jorlan for a tidbit. He leaned over to snap off a cilia twig from a nearby bush, tossing it into the fibers as they passed.
    Gurgling happily, the mesh-pond absorbed the treat.
    Green smiled to herself. Despite his insolent stance, there was a hidden kindness in his heart. Again, she remembered the incident with Claudine's Klee when he was a boy.
    "What are you thinking?" he murmured.
    "I was remembering something from a long time ago... "
    "About your family?" He smoothed away a strand of auburn hair that had flown into her eye.
    "It's not important." She looked up at him. He was shadowed; beautifully shadowed. "Kiss me," she breathed. "Right now."
    He paused only a second, then simply reacted. He bent forward, brushing warm, smooth lips over hers. It was an incredibly tender kiss. At once sensual and sweet.
    Standing on tiptoe, Green's hand reached up to cup the back of his head. Even though he was bending, he was still towering over her.
    Green's hand clasped his shoulder and upper arm, noting the muscular strength concealed by his black sleek-cut layer coat. Her fingers sank recklessly into the depths of the silky black hair. Its texture was finer than any she had ever touched. Softer. More luxurious. The strands slid between her fingers, twining about her hand. Have I ever felt such hair? She marveled at the sensation of it. There was something incredible about touching Jorlan, the feel of him unlike