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gone to bed."

"We should close this door behind us anyway," Andre said. "He could be snooping through the house, you know."

"Snooping? I'm sure he's too well brought up to do that."

"How do you know? You haven't seen him since you were fifteen."

A frown grew between her eyes. "That's true, but—"

"You can't believe it of him because he was born to the upper classes?"

"What I started to say, was he struck me as too uptight and self-righteous to do anything like sneak around."

"Oh."

"Geri, what is the best way to get into the war room?" Rebecca asked.

"Access can be found in three places; through the top of the mesa, from the lower hallway by the infirmary and from down in the lower fourth level." As he spoke, the display lit up showing the access points.

"I haven't been down in the lower levels much and I don't want to climb the cliffs in the dark. Let's try the one by the infirmary," Rebecca suggested.

The underground rooms at Ironlyn led back into the cliff face. The passages appeared dark, but when entered, grew lighter.

"Is this a spell too?" Andre asked as they walked along.

"It must be," Rebecca replied. "I don't know it though, and I haven't found it in here yet." She tapped the printed journal she was carrying.

She soon discovered while Andre did want to find the hidden rooms, he had other, more pleasant things on his mind as well. He took her hand when they left the infirmary, and after they turned a corner in the passage, and were safely out of sight of any late-night visitors to Catrin's medical center, he pulled her into his arms, his mouth seeking hers. Dropping the rolled-up blueprints on the floor so he would have his hands free, he ran them up and down her back in a soft caress. Reaching up, he pulled out the pins holding her hair, so the silky tresses cascaded down her back and shoulders. In the semi-dark passage, her hair gleamed darkly.

"You have beautiful hair," he said softly. "The first time I saw you, it was down like this. It looked like flowing dark water."

A warmth traveled up Rebecca's body sending a small shiver of pleasure into her groin. Andre's masculine scent, a combination of healthy male, unicorn and other outdoor smells drifted to her as she leaned into him, increasing her physical sensation. One of his hands slid down her back again, his fingers sliding into the cleft on buttocks, lifting her a little more against his engorged shaft.

Rebecca shivered again as her groin pulsed with another quake of desire. "Andre," she whispered in faint protest, "we didn't come down here for this."

"Mmmn," he said, his mouth sliding around under her ear. His other hand moved over her breast, and his fingers brushed across her swollen nipple. A deeper, harder quake of sensuality thrust into her groin, and she gasped,

Her hands skimmed over his body, feeling the hard muscles at his waist through his shirt. Her fumbling hands accidentally touched the wall behind him and a door popped open. Andre had been leaning against it, and they would have fallen inside the room if not for his suburb reflexes. He stumbled backward, dragging her with him.

The sudden, jerky movement startled Rebecca back into sanity and she came to herself with a jolt. Looking past his shoulder, she saw the weapons in their gleaming glass case.

"Andre, look," she exclaimed.

"I am," he said, looking down at her.

She caught his seeking hands in her own. "No, not at me, look behind you."

He sighed. There was nothing in here that should be dangerous, but he humored her and turned around.

"It’s just a sword and armor in a case," he told her impatiently.

"No, it isn't just a sword and armor," she said excitedly. She bent and picked up the journal she had dropped, rifling through its pages. "Here, see this? Those must be the traditional weapons for the Defender of Ironlyn, I'm sure of it."

He made a face and picked up the blueprints he had discarded, adjusting himself inside his pants when he straightened up. It would go away, he knew. Unfortunately, he seemed to spend half his time around Rebecca in this state and something always seemed to interrupt them before he could satisfy it. He followed her over to the case to get a better look.

Rebecca was pulling on the knob, trying to open it, but the door resisted her efforts. "Here, you try," she said, stepping back. The door sprang open as soon as he touched it and a pang of recognition shot through him. A blue-white glow flashed across the weapons and disappeared.

"What was that?" he exclaimed.

Rebecca had been reading the journal. "'The weapons will recognize the Defender, but he must don them for them to be activated.' I think it means you have to put them on."

Andre eyed the sword warily. "Activated? I'm not so sure I like the sound of that."

"It doesn't say it will hurt you. Why don't you try touching one of them?"

Not wanting to show fear in front of his woman, he set his mouth and gingerly touched the hilt of the sword with one finger. Only a pleasant tingle ran up his arm, so he grasped it firmly and pulled the sword and belt out of the case.

He held the sword out for Rebecca to examine. When they touched the sword together, a tremendous surge of power ran through the keep. Both Andre and Rebecca could feel the anticipation, as if Ironlyn  was waiting for something.

"I think the Wards are responding to us. The journal says I'm supposed to buckle the sword on you," she said, reaching around him to pull the sword belt together. As soon as she had fastened the buckle, another surge of power ran through the keep. "There is supposed to be a medallion too—oh here it is." As she spoke, she picked up the dangling chain with a round disc hanging beside the sword.

Andre lifted the disc and

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