“Ch-Chloe is sh-sh-shy,” Tark said, speaking for the first time. His deep voice rumbled and resonated against the rock walls of the cavern.
Chloe looked up at him gratefully, glad for his help.
“As I said, we have no use for false modesty here,” the monkess repeated. “Strip right now, the two of you, or leave the resort!”
Again Tark gave her that questioning look. Do you want to leave?
Chloe bit her lip. She hadn’t counted on having to get naked in front of the big Kindred but really, he had already seen her in some pretty skimpy outfits. The black baby doll nighty was practically see-through and his t-shirt, which she was still wearing as a dress, wasn’t much better. Plus, though she hadn’t lost much weight at the weight-loss house, she was better toned than she had been in ages. If there was ever a time to parade around naked, this was it.
“It’s okay,” she said under her breath. “I’ll be okay.”
He looked at her earnestly for a moment before nodding and turning considerately away to start taking off his clothes.
Chloe turned her back to him as well and pulled the long white undershirt she was wearing off. Then she held it to her chest, shivering a little—more with embarrassment than cold. The caverns, though deep underground, remained a comfortable temperature—neither too hot or too cold. Tark had told her they were heated by natural hot springs which bubbled up from deep in the heart of the planet and surrounded the cavern’s structure like veins threading their way through a body.
“All right, very good. Now let me see…” The monkess was staring at Chloe intently like she was measuring her with her eyes. Then she nodded once, turned her face upwards, and began to sing.
Chloe couldn’t understand the words of her song but the notes were high and soaring—they rang and echoed in the chamber until they seemed to fill her head and vibrate every part of her body at once.
Wow—what an amazing voice! Chloe couldn’t help thinking. She had been in show choir herself in high school and had taken a semester of choir in college too. It wasn’t much but it was enough for her to recognize a truly unusual talent. The Monkess Laroni would have put any Broadway Diva to shame—she was that good!
And as Laroni sang, Chloe gradually became aware that her song seemed to be having a visible effect on the room they were in. First the light began to grow stronger until a golden glow filled the cavern and illuminated the domed ceiling, which had been in shadows before.
As Chloe looked up, she saw there was something up near the ceiling—hundreds of somethings, actually. They looked like sparkling, transparent white cloths swirling and circling around and around, about fifty feet up, ducking and swooping like birds as though in answer to the monkess’s song.
After a moment, one of the cloths seemed to be coming lower. The monkess sang louder and reached out a hand, as though she was beckoning a shy woodland creature to come to her. She stopped singing for just a moment to turn to Chloe.
“The robe is reluctant to come to you for some reason. You must add your voice to mine.”
“I must?” Chloe asked. “But…what should I say?”
“Sing what comes to you—sing!” Laroni commanded. “Lift up your voice—let the robe know it is safe to come to you!”
It had been a while since she had sung on command—though she still did her best diva routine in the shower—but Chloe felt compelled to do as the monkess demanded.
Since Laroni wasn’t singing any words, she didn’t either. She just tried to match the other woman’s melody and let her voice float outward. After a moment, they somehow began to harmonize and she found she was singing the melodious riff from The Little Mermaid.
“Ahh-ahh-ahh…ahh-ahh-ah-ah…”
It’s the part where the Sea Witch is telling Ariel to sing so she can capture her voice in the seashell and give her legs, Chloe thought.
She had always loved that Disney movie and she found herself really getting into it—holding out a hand to the fluttering robe as though she was coaxing it down.
Come on little robe, I won’t hurt you. Come to Chloe…
Suddenly words popped into her head. Simple words but they seemed to be appropriate.
“Come to me now…come to me now. Come to me, come to me, come to me now,” she sang.
The robe flitted and fluttered indecisively about a foot above her head. Then it apparently decided Chloe was okay because it suddenly came down and wrapped itself around her neck and shoulders like a shawl.
“Drop that other garment,” the monkess demanded. “You must allow the robe to cover you.”
Reluctantly, Chloe did as she was told, dropping Tark’s undershirt, which she had been holding against her breasts. As she did, she felt the robe unfolding. Soon it dropped like a shimmering, translucent curtain down to her ankles. For a moment she wondered how she was supposed to do anything with her hands since her arms were trapped inside the robe. But then the material somehow rearranged itself into more of a dress configuration with a V neck and flowing sleeves. It was really quite lovely, Chloe thought—apart from the fact that it was almost completely see-through.
“Um…” She looked at the Monkess Laroni who was nodding in approval, like a seamstress who has gotten a particularly good fit for a client. “Um…” she tried again.
“Yes, what is it?” the monkess snapped. “Say what you wish and say it quickly. I must call down a robe for your mate.”
“It’s just…I thought we would have robes like the kind you’re wearing,” Chloe said. “Don’t get me wrong—this is just gorgeous…” She stroked the shimmering material—it was feather-light and softer than silk. In fact, it almost felt like she wasn’t wearing anything at all, she thought uncomfortably. “But does it have to be so, well, see-through?”
“Just wait for a moment to it to adjust to you,” the monkess advised. “It will change as soon as it reads your tones.”
“My tones?” This didn’t make any sense to Chloe but before she could ask anything else, Laroni had raised her face to the ceiling and was singing again.
A larger robe came floating down from the swirling mass circling the ceiling but this time it was Tark she called on to sing with her.
“Come,” she said, frowning at him. “Join your voice to mine, warrior.”
He frowned and took a step back.
“I c-c-c…” He shook his head, unable to get the words out.
“It’s okay, Tark.” Chloe stroked his big, muscular arm, being careful not to touch any of the rest of him, which was mouthwateringly bare. “You don’t have to say any words at first—just let the melody come out,” she told him. “And then the words will come.”
He looked at her doubtfully but Chloe nodded at him encouragingly.
“Go on,” she urged.
Tark took a deep breath and opened his mouth…and suddenly, a deep, gorgeous baritone filled the cavern.
Chloe looked at him in wonder. From the little she’d heard of his speaking voice, she could tell that his singing voice would be nice but this was gorgeous.
The robe began to flutter closer and suddenly, the big Kindred began to sing words.
“Come to me now…come as you are. Come to me, come to me, fly not afar…”
As he sang, Chloe could see the look of surprise come over his face. The robe responded to him at once and came to settle around his broad shoulders, just as hers had. However, on Tark it drifted downwards and became a pair of loose fitting trousers, kind of like pajama pants which left his broad, muscular chest bare.
The big Kindred seemed to hardly notice how the robe was dressing him, however. He looked at Chloe, his golden eyes shining.
“D-did you h-hear?” he demanded excitedly. “I d-d-didn’t st-stu-stutter!”
“No, of course not.” She smiled at him. “The part of your brain that controls singing is different from the part that controls talking. Didn’t you know?”
He shook his head, his eyes still shining.
Chloe
nodded. “That’s one of the first things I usually do when I treat a new patient who stutters—I have them sing for me. Sometimes it gives them confidence to hear words coming out without a problem.” She frowned. “Weren’t there any kind of therapists to help with speech deficits where you grew up?”
Tark’s face grew dark.
“M-muh-my f-f-father he w-wuh-wouldn’t…d-d-d-didn’t…” He shook his head in apparent frustration. “He w-wanted to h-hide it. W-was a-a-a-ashamed.”
Chloe couldn’t help noticing that as he spoke his robe-trousers, which had started out a sunny yellow with white trim around the edges, had now turned dark gray with white trim. Her own robe-dress had started out the same colors but now they turned a dark orange—almost an umber color.
Not that she was paying much attention to the color of their new clothes—she was too busy being indignant.
“That’s terrible!” she exclaimed. “You should never have been denied help for any reason. Any child—any person—needs kindness and emotional support when they’re dealing with a deficit or a speech problem. Patience and love are so important when…”
She trailed off because of the way the big Kindred was looking at her.
“L-love?” Suddenly his eyes were half-lidded and he drew closer to Chloe. As he did, his trousers turned a deep rosy color somewhere between pink and red.
“Well…yes. Love is…love is very important,” Chloe breathed as her own robe turned almost the same shade. Suddenly he was so close to her—close enough to touch—to kiss if she’d been brave enough to reach up on her tiptoes and pull him down to her.
Again she had that feeling almost of hunger—of wishing she could run her hands all over his big, muscular body and press herself against him and devour him from the mouth down.
Reaching up, she stroked his chest, placing her hand over his heart and feeling the steady thump of it. His skin felt like warm satin under her fingertips and she wanted to rub her cheek against him like a cat marking its territory. Hell, she wanted to take off her clothes and rub her entire body against him. God, he was gorgeous!
“Ch-chloe…” He leaned down to her, his eyes searching hers.
Suddenly Chloe realized what she was doing and yanked her hand away as though she’d been burned. What was wrong with her? Was it just that she had been so lonely and unhappy in the prison of the weight-loss house that she craved to be touched? Or was it that incredible scent of his, messing with her head?
Whatever it is, you need to get hold of yourself, Chloe, she lectured herself. Just because you’re pretending to be Tark’s wife doesn’t mean you have to act the part so literally! Remember, he’s already planning to take you directly home after he gets the jewel so don’t make things more awkward than they already are.
She felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment at what she had just done and looked away quickly. From the corner of her eye, she noticed that her robe-dress had turned a pale, embarrassed shade of pink. Tark’s trousers were a confusing mixture of bluish-gray patches.
“Ch-Chloe?” he asked hesitantly.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I don’t know why I…I mean, I wasn’t thinking.” As she spoke, the thin ribbon of trim which ran along the edges of her robe and which had been white up until now, suddenly darkened to black.
Bullshit, Chloe, whispered a little voice in her head. You were too, thinking. You were thinking you wanted to jump his bones!
“Well, well…I think the robes have your tones all right now.” The Monkess Laroni came forward, clapping her hands, which made Chloe jump. In the excitement of hearing Tark sing and everything that had followed, she had somehow completely forgotten the other woman was there.
“Oh!” She put a hand to her chest to still her beating heart. “I’m sorry. Are, uh, are we done here then? With the robes?”
“You are finished with your fitting but I perceive that I must get you to the Touch Master at once.”
“The Touch Master?” Chloe frowned.
“The monk who will begin your healing. Come.” Without another word, the Monkess Laroni swept from the room and they had no choice but to follow her.
Chapter Nine
Tark couldn’t figure out what was going on. One minute it seemed like Chloe was drawing near him, touching him, almost as though she wanted him to touch her back, which he ached to do. The next moment she had drawn away from him as though his body was a hot iron that had burned her. How did she really feel?
She probably just feels sorry for you, he told himself savagely. She says she’s a kind of healer that works with people who have speech problems. She probably sees you as someone she’d like to heal and nothing more.
But just for a moment when she’d put her soft little hand over his chest it hadn’t seemed like that. For a moment Tark had been certain she wanted him to kiss her.
And Gods, he would have loved to. She was so soft and small and perfect and curvy—the Elite of his dreams. He hungered to crush her to him and taste that sweet little rosebud of a mouth—longed to run his hands up and down her luscious body and make her moan as he touched her…as he tasted her…
His trousers had turned deep red for some reason, he noticed as they walked down the zig-zagging stone corridors, following the Monkess Laroni. Why the hell was it that their robe-clothes kept changing colors?
Well, never mind about that. He needed to get hold of himself and remember that Chloe was only here at the resort posing as his mate as a favor to him. And just because she was pretending to be his, didn’t mean she really belonged to him—didn’t mean they belonged to each other. He needed to get a handle on his lust and longing for the little Elite and he needed to do it now.
I’ll do better, he promised himself. I have to!
Besides, he needed to concentrate on finding the jewel. After this was over he had promised to take Chloe back home, though the Goddess knew he wished he could keep her with him. But she wasn’t his to keep. He had to remember that and focus on why they had come to the Resort of Resonant Oneness in the first place.
The jewel. Keep your mind on the jewel!
But his eyes kept straying back to Chloe and he couldn’t help wondering what her sweet mouth would taste like.
* * * * *
“Here we are. Enter with care, please.” The Monkess pushed aside a curtain which led into another room—or cavern might be more accurate, since they were deep underground, Chloe thought.
As soon as they stepped inside she could see why Laroni had asked them to be careful—it seemed like most of the available space was filled with delicate, shimmering crystal structures. Some were tiny, no bigger than Chloe’s pinky finger. But some were huge—one especially was as big as a pipe organ—and kind of looked like one too, although made completely out of clear crystal. It sat in the middle of the room, glimmering faintly with rainbows as the golden, indirect glow, which seemed to light all the rooms at the resort, played over its facets and surfaces.
Sitting in front of the crystal organ was yet another monk who looked almost identical to Baroni and Laroni. He had the same blue skin, the same crown of red spikes for hair, and when he turned, Chloe saw that he had the same jack-o-lantern orange eyes.
“This is the Monk Taroni. He is the Master of Tone and Touch—he will begin your healing.” The monkess bowed and the other monk bowed as well.
“Thank you, Monkess Laroni, for that fine introduction.”
“You are very welcome. A word of warning:” The monkess raised one blue finger sternly. “These two appear to have a severe dysfunction between them. You will have your work cut out for you, Monk Taroni.” Her face grew grave. “They have only ever made love in the dark,” she added in a half whisper, as though conveying a scandalous bit of gossip.
“I thank you for your wisdom,” the other monk said gravely. “I will treat them to the best of my ability.”
The monkess bowed once and left, threading her way delicately through the crystalline structures and towers and lett
ing the curtain swish shut silently behind her.
“Well, now…” Monk Taroni clapped his hands together, like a man eager to start a difficult task. “Hello and welcome to the Resort of Resonant Oneness. I suppose the first thing to do is to take your measurements.”
Chloe expected him to take out some version of an alien measuring tape but instead he beckoned her over to the massive crystal organ.
“Come, come, my dear—don’t be shy,” he said encouragingly when she hesitated. “I know the Monkess Laroni can be a bit stern and intimidating but I am a little easier to deal with, I assure you. I only wish to help you and your mate overcome your sexual dysfunction.”
“Um, thank you,” Chloe said hesitantly, coming to stand beside the organ, as he seemed to want her to. “What is all this, anyway?” she asked, waving a hand to indicate all the delicate crystal structures in the room.
“Why, it’s resonite, of course.” Taroni looked surprised, as though she ought to know all about resonite, whatever it was.
“It’s beautiful,” Chloe said honestly. A thought occurred to her and she cleared her throat. “These look like really important works. I, uh, bet you have some really beautiful jewels here.”
“Jewels?” The monk frowned. “Anything like that would be kept in the Cavern of Precious Treasures.”
“The Cavern of Precious Treasures?” Chloe exchanged a look with Tark, filled with suppressed excitement. He nodded at her but then she had to turn her attention back to Monk Taroni who was still speaking.
“As I said, this is resonite—it is a special mineral that can only form in a place which sits on a dimensional rift, as the resort does—a kind of doorway between worlds, as it were. Because the resonite comprises all possibilities from all possible worlds, it allows us to hear and see every possible tone—every shade and nuance of meaning. It’s also extremely versatile—all of my instruments are made of it.” He indicated the crystalline structures. “As well as the robes you are wearing.” He pointed at the two of them.