Rogue by Cheryl Brooks Page B

face; she tells me!"
    "Do you really think she likes him better?" I asked Trag.
    "I'm sure she does," Trag said irritably. "Everyone always has liked him best! I can't figure it out. All the other women around here seem to like him better, too—they're always flirting with him and telling him how wonderful he is. What's so wrong with green eyes, anyway?"
    "Did I say it had anything to do with his eyes?"
    "Well, no, but—"
    "He smiled at me, Trag," I said gently. "You stood there looking like you wanted to scratch my eyes out."
    "Well, okay, you're right about that much," Trag admitted. "It's just that I thought Scalia wanted to show us off to one of her friends, that's all."
    "Don't like being an oddity?" I ventured.
    "Something like that," he replied.
    We arrived at my room, and Tychar laid me down on the bed while Trag went off to get some more water. I drank as much as I could hold without getting sick and then tried to rest, but it's hard to relax when you've got two tigers prowling around your room.
    Tychar sat beside me with his arm draped lovingly around my shoulders while he fed me fruit from a crystal bowl. His apparent intent was to get some food into me, but he was driving me wild by barely touching my lips with each bit he offered me—just being that close to him was enough to inspire some of the most erotic thoughts I'd ever had.
    When I couldn't hold anymore, he moved to the foot of the bed to massage my feet. Having a man give me a foot massage has always been a particular fantasy of mine, but just how he knew it I didn't know and didn't care, because it felt wonderful.
    As I lay drifting in a haze of sensuous delight, Trag busied himself with checking out the contents of my wardrobe, which he considered to be quite inappropriate for the local climate.
    "You need to wear less," he advised. "These long, flowing dresses of yours trap the heat too much."
    "Maybe," I admitted, "but that's what I wear most of the time at home. I didn't bring much else."
    "Well, we'll have to figure something out," he insisted. "The trouble is, there aren't many people around here who are any good at making clothes."
    "Don't you have something else to do at this hour?"
    Tychar asked innocently.
    "Want to get rid of me?" said Trag.
    "Yes, I believe I do," Tychar agreed.
    "Hey, I'm smiling, Kyra!" Trag insisted, showing his teeth. "Don't I look... you know... enticing?"
    "You look more like you're about to bite me," was my honest reply. "When he smiled at me I—" Then I remembered that I hadn't intended to mention what happened when Tychar smiled at me, but I didn't need to, because Trag supplied his own reason.
    "Yeah, you turned to mush or something," he said ruefully. "I know, I saw it, too."
    "Trag," I said gently.
    "What?" he all but barked at me.
    "I'm sorry." And I meant it, too. He wasn't as charming as Tychar, perhaps, but he had his good points. I might not have fallen for him on sight, but I did like him.
    Trag stopped short at the foot of the bed. "Yeah, well, so am I," he grumbled. "Story of my life. I guess Scalia knew what she was doing after all—but if you ever change your mind..."
    "I'll know who to ask for," I said promptly.
    "Well, yeah—and just be sure you don't ask for Refdeck," he advised. "He's a slimy little bastard— even if he can fuck Scalia." He said that as though he wished he'd been able to do it himself, and—who knows?—perhaps he did. "She likes him pretty well."
    "Refdeck? Slimy? You mean the little toad guy?" I asked, aghast.
    Trag nodded, though I, for one, couldn't see him with Scalia. I mean, if she rolled over on Refdeck, she'd probably kill him. I lay there trying to imagine the position they'd have to get in to do it with any degree of safety and couldn't come up with one. Then I decided it was one of those details that I really didn't want to know anyway. Tychar massaging my feet was much more pleasant to contemplate, but then I remembered that he was a slave, too, and the fact that