Shield's Lady

little more time in which to ease her into a willing acceptance of the situation.
    Gryph stood thinking for a moment, remembering what had happened the night before in that filthy alley. Because of those events he knew he could not grant Sariana any time at all. Everything had changed now. There were more dangerous matters to be handled than a wife who did not yet realize she was a wife.
    Gryph walked out of the chamber and down the hall to Sariana’s room. There was no point in postponing the inevitable. The sooner he got this part over the better, as far as he was concerned. He was a Shield, the only son of a proud family, raised on the frontier, a man trained to hunt other men, but he was, in the end, only a man. When it came to dealing with a woman he was as easily baffled and as thoroughly cautious as the next man.
    He halted in front of Sariana’s door and pulled the cord that rang the soft chimes inside her room. As he waited for a response he glanced down and saw that he’d missed a scuff mark on the toe of one boot. Irritated, he quickly rubbed it against his trouser leg. The door opened just as he was checking to be sure he’d removed the mark.
    Gryph’s head snapped up, his senses leaping in anticipation even though he knew a difficult time lay ahead.
    For a few seconds he just stared at Sariana. She was smiling hesitantly at him. The morning light poured into the room behind her, highlighting the gold in her sleekly coiffed brown hair. Her eyes were nearly gold, too, the expression in them feminine and mysterious and shy and questioning. The buff colored suit she wore fit her very snugly, emphasizing her small waist and the proud tilt of her gently curving breasts. A flash of crimson drew Gryph’s eye. The scarlet-toe was clinging possessively to its perch on Sariana’s shoulder. It regarded Gryph with an unblinking gaze.
    Gryph found himself smiling slightly as he looked at the lizard. Then he met Sariana’s eyes again and it hit him full force. This was his Shieldmate, he thought dazedly. He had done it. He had found a woman with whom he could link. The always precarious future of his clan had been provided with one more chance at survival. He had taken the first major step toward fulfilling his primary duty to his clan and at the same time he had found himself a true mate.
    Gryph wanted to shout his triumphant joy until the elegant corridors of the Avylyn household rang with the news of what had happened between him and Sariana. He wanted to take his Shieldmate back to his clan house and parade her in front of his parents and his friends.
    But most of all he wanted to sweep Sariana off her feet, carry her into the bed chamber and lay her down on the swinging bed. He wanted to make love to her properly this time. He wanted to watch her respond to him, hear her cries of pleasure and satisfaction, see the full knowledge of their relationship blaze in her gentle eyes.
    Instead of all that, Gryph inclined his head in a formal greeting and said, “I bid you the luck of the day, Sariana.”
    She returned the polite greeting, her tremulous smile growing more confident. “Luck to you, Gryph. I thought perhaps you would want to sleep in this morning. How is your shoulder?”
    He smiled crookedly, memories of the night shimmering through his head. “You will be happy to hear that it feels a great deal better than it did last night.”
    Sariana’s own smile slipped a little and Gryph saw the memories in her eyes. “I’m glad. It must have been quite…quite uncomfortable for you.”
    “You know exactly how uncomfortable it was for me, don’t you, Sariana?” Gryph watched her closely, wondering how much she would admit to remembering. He drew in a deep breath and prepared to make his apologies. He certainly owed her a few. “And I know how unpleasant parts of last night were for you,” he added quickly. “In addition to your own personal feelings, you were being bombarded with a lot of what I was feeling. I sincerely regret the pain you experienced last night.”
    “I’m not sure I want to talk about this, Gryph. I’ve been thinking, and I’ve decided that some things are better left undiscussed. I’d had several glasses of punch last night by the time you showed up and I’m afraid I may have been a little drunk when you—”
    He interrupted her, intent on completing his formal apology. “I was not in full control, as I should have been. My only excuse is that, as I told you, such a