she frowned, but she didn’t reach out. Didn’t come
closer. What would he have to do to solicit her comfort?
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He swung the gate open on the lift and
motioned her forward. She joined him and he pushed the button to
take them down.
“How did your meeting with Colonel Eldridge
go last night?”
She pressed her lips together and shrugged
one shoulder. “I wouldn’t call it a meeting.”
He turned to fully face her, resisted the
urge to reach out and yank her to him.
“There isn’t a way out of this. I won’t let
you go.”
Brilliant, idiot. Keep pushing her like that
and she’ll wield the knife against you herself. Or die trying if
the little I know of her is true.
He struggled to instill calm and reason into
his racing heart. He wasn’t entirely stupid. Everything they were
trying to accomplish here depended on Laney. His error had been in
assuming she’d meekly fall into line.
Both her eyebrows lifted together and she
spoke softly but he heard the dissatisfaction in her voice. “You
can force my compliance, just as you can enforce this treaty.”
Her words were a shock. The more so when he
realized he didn’t want to force her into anything. Something of
what he was thinking must have been evident on his countenance. She
pressed her lips together again, crossed her arms across her chest,
and shook her head.
“I saw your armada, Alrik. My people may not
have seen it yet, but I know what that means for us. That doesn’t
mean any of us will be happy about it. It doesn’t mean you won’t
still have opposition. I meant what I said ... that first night. I
can’t deny the physical connection between us, but my heart and
mind are mine. And always will be if you insist on casting me in a
submissive—not to mention uninformed—role. I’m used to being part
of events. If you continue on this course I’ll always feel like a
captive. Like a spoil of war. Is that really what you
want?”
It was more words than she’d ever shared with
him and several things were obvious. Cilia had filled her in on her
future job, he’d bet. The not so subtle reminder of having nothing
to do was a dead giveaway. He’d have to speak with Barak and Daggar
about that.
The curious and fascinating bomb was that she
expected to accept defeat without ever truly surrendering. She’d
mentioned their first night—when she’d claimed she’d never spend
her life with a barbarian. But she’d acknowledged the physical
connection between them. It was a start, wasn’t it? His anger was
gone. His suspicion of her was gone. She took a deep breath, but
before she could go on he pulled her closer and laid a finger over
her lips.
“I know. All I ask is that you let the rest
come with time,” he whispered.
Shock widened her eyes, and he realized he
hadn’t treated her with anything like tenderness before, outside of
bed. It wasn’t the side of a warrior anyone ever saw, but he
couldn’t deny he was feeling it. It made him uncomfortable. Soft
feelings had no place in a warrior’s heart. Did they?
Her question came back to him. Was that what
he really wanted of her? A warm and willing body and nothing else?
She clearly thought so. He’d thought so not too long ago.
For the first time in years, he struggled to
remember his parents. He’d been four when they died. His mind
retained only images after more than thirty years. A proud,
stern-faced father. A soft, gentle mother. But they were like
stills, a frozen moment in time. Surely there had been more to
them, more to their bond than just physical lust and shared
children. What had his father felt? What could a warrior allow
himself to feel for his der’lan without weakening
himself?
“Now what?”
She was scowling up at him, and standing next
to her, he was reminded of how small she was, how fragile she
appeared.
“I was just thinking of my parents.”
The lift stopped and he led her down the
corridor. He was surprised when she spoke.
closer. What would he have to do to solicit her comfort?
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He swung the gate open on the lift and
motioned her forward. She joined him and he pushed the button to
take them down.
“How did your meeting with Colonel Eldridge
go last night?”
She pressed her lips together and shrugged
one shoulder. “I wouldn’t call it a meeting.”
He turned to fully face her, resisted the
urge to reach out and yank her to him.
“There isn’t a way out of this. I won’t let
you go.”
Brilliant, idiot. Keep pushing her like that
and she’ll wield the knife against you herself. Or die trying if
the little I know of her is true.
He struggled to instill calm and reason into
his racing heart. He wasn’t entirely stupid. Everything they were
trying to accomplish here depended on Laney. His error had been in
assuming she’d meekly fall into line.
Both her eyebrows lifted together and she
spoke softly but he heard the dissatisfaction in her voice. “You
can force my compliance, just as you can enforce this treaty.”
Her words were a shock. The more so when he
realized he didn’t want to force her into anything. Something of
what he was thinking must have been evident on his countenance. She
pressed her lips together again, crossed her arms across her chest,
and shook her head.
“I saw your armada, Alrik. My people may not
have seen it yet, but I know what that means for us. That doesn’t
mean any of us will be happy about it. It doesn’t mean you won’t
still have opposition. I meant what I said ... that first night. I
can’t deny the physical connection between us, but my heart and
mind are mine. And always will be if you insist on casting me in a
submissive—not to mention uninformed—role. I’m used to being part
of events. If you continue on this course I’ll always feel like a
captive. Like a spoil of war. Is that really what you
want?”
It was more words than she’d ever shared with
him and several things were obvious. Cilia had filled her in on her
future job, he’d bet. The not so subtle reminder of having nothing
to do was a dead giveaway. He’d have to speak with Barak and Daggar
about that.
The curious and fascinating bomb was that she
expected to accept defeat without ever truly surrendering. She’d
mentioned their first night—when she’d claimed she’d never spend
her life with a barbarian. But she’d acknowledged the physical
connection between them. It was a start, wasn’t it? His anger was
gone. His suspicion of her was gone. She took a deep breath, but
before she could go on he pulled her closer and laid a finger over
her lips.
“I know. All I ask is that you let the rest
come with time,” he whispered.
Shock widened her eyes, and he realized he
hadn’t treated her with anything like tenderness before, outside of
bed. It wasn’t the side of a warrior anyone ever saw, but he
couldn’t deny he was feeling it. It made him uncomfortable. Soft
feelings had no place in a warrior’s heart. Did they?
Her question came back to him. Was that what
he really wanted of her? A warm and willing body and nothing else?
She clearly thought so. He’d thought so not too long ago.
For the first time in years, he struggled to
remember his parents. He’d been four when they died. His mind
retained only images after more than thirty years. A proud,
stern-faced father. A soft, gentle mother. But they were like
stills, a frozen moment in time. Surely there had been more to
them, more to their bond than just physical lust and shared
children. What had his father felt? What could a warrior allow
himself to feel for his der’lan without weakening
himself?
“Now what?”
She was scowling up at him, and standing next
to her, he was reminded of how small she was, how fragile she
appeared.
“I was just thinking of my parents.”
The lift stopped and he led her down the
corridor. He was surprised when she spoke.
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