Chapter One
Planet of Manitee-a, Becutan Villa
2975 Common Era
“Dance with me like we used to.”
Clenching her hands into tight fists, Kierra Vonne searched the room behind Jamar. Was there anything that appeared out of place or was anyone eavesdropping where they shouldn’t? The antechamber was empty.
Returning her haunted gaze to him, she whispered urgently, “Please. You know we can’t be seen together.” They could if he were ordering her to perform some lowly task but treating her as an equal was forbidden on Becutan land.
He took a decisive, graceful step toward her. With her heart pounding, she backed away. He was the most devastatingly handsome man she’d ever known with his black skin in sharp contrast to the whiteness of her own.
“Lord Jamar,” she said, stating his formal name with the hope of distancing him from her, “my station is far below yours. If you would like a cup a caya tea, please don’t hesitate to tell me.” The soft-spoken, meaningful reminder should deter him until she found a way to flee, but the antechamber’s sliding doors were behind him and impossibly out of reach.
Jamar faced her, as rooted to the polished floor as a thirty-foot caya tree with its stately fronds undulating in the still, humid air. Except caya trees didn’t have sizeable hard-ons. “Kierra,” he said, breaking the tense, expectant silence, “the music is empty and meaningless without you.”
“Don’t,” she pleaded, her voice breathless and hoarse to her own ears. She moistened her lips, unwilling to run past the handsome man who’d once been her best childhood friend. Age and the dictates of society had placed a sharp, divisive line between them that neither could cross. If her heart could bleed dry, this would be a good time while Jamar observed her from heavy-lidded, gold eyes. Every time he came within a few feet of her, her heart danced in imitation of an erotic and fast-paced samba.
He moved forward several inches. “We can dance again,” he murmured, his hot gaze never leaving hers. “We can drive the butterflies into a frenzy and the birds to sing in our honor.”
Like we used to.
Emphatically, Kierra shook her head. “Those days are over,” she said quietly, her heart shattering into a million pieces. If only he was white like she was, not so devastatingly sexy with black skin and short, onyx hair she’d tenderly run her fingers through countless times.
The small room that served as an antechamber to his bedroom was closing in on her, sending her into a panic that left every muscle in her body quivering. He’d come a step closer and towered above her with his magnetic and charming presence.
“You know you’ll give in and dance with me,” he warned, his eyes flashing with sensuous heat.
Kierra sensed her world slipping away. She knew better than to allow him closer, and yet he’d cornered her as if he’d known she’d be here dusting and vacuuming. Had he arranged this meeting? She hadn’t seen him in almost three years. No, that was an outright lie. Without his knowledge, she’d watched him several times as he bathed in the cool blue waters in the enclosed courtyard.
He was the most attractive man she’d ever seen. His arms rippled with muscles, as did his thighs. She’d even allowed herself to wonder what would happen if she’d lain between his thighs, his hot shaft pulsing with fierce longing and her wet pussy spasming with need.
She gave a shuddering breath. She shouldn’t have looked, but the sight of his nude, virile body left her weak and helpless. Kierra could never have him. Sex with a Jaquill was punishable by death.
With a jolt, she brought herself back to the present. “No, I won’t give in. All we’ve done together belongs in the past.” The distant past when they were barely more than children, growing up in a world filled with strict rules where the ruling class, the Jaquill, weren’t allowed to associate with the kattanee, their
Planet of Manitee-a, Becutan Villa
2975 Common Era
“Dance with me like we used to.”
Clenching her hands into tight fists, Kierra Vonne searched the room behind Jamar. Was there anything that appeared out of place or was anyone eavesdropping where they shouldn’t? The antechamber was empty.
Returning her haunted gaze to him, she whispered urgently, “Please. You know we can’t be seen together.” They could if he were ordering her to perform some lowly task but treating her as an equal was forbidden on Becutan land.
He took a decisive, graceful step toward her. With her heart pounding, she backed away. He was the most devastatingly handsome man she’d ever known with his black skin in sharp contrast to the whiteness of her own.
“Lord Jamar,” she said, stating his formal name with the hope of distancing him from her, “my station is far below yours. If you would like a cup a caya tea, please don’t hesitate to tell me.” The soft-spoken, meaningful reminder should deter him until she found a way to flee, but the antechamber’s sliding doors were behind him and impossibly out of reach.
Jamar faced her, as rooted to the polished floor as a thirty-foot caya tree with its stately fronds undulating in the still, humid air. Except caya trees didn’t have sizeable hard-ons. “Kierra,” he said, breaking the tense, expectant silence, “the music is empty and meaningless without you.”
“Don’t,” she pleaded, her voice breathless and hoarse to her own ears. She moistened her lips, unwilling to run past the handsome man who’d once been her best childhood friend. Age and the dictates of society had placed a sharp, divisive line between them that neither could cross. If her heart could bleed dry, this would be a good time while Jamar observed her from heavy-lidded, gold eyes. Every time he came within a few feet of her, her heart danced in imitation of an erotic and fast-paced samba.
He moved forward several inches. “We can dance again,” he murmured, his hot gaze never leaving hers. “We can drive the butterflies into a frenzy and the birds to sing in our honor.”
Like we used to.
Emphatically, Kierra shook her head. “Those days are over,” she said quietly, her heart shattering into a million pieces. If only he was white like she was, not so devastatingly sexy with black skin and short, onyx hair she’d tenderly run her fingers through countless times.
The small room that served as an antechamber to his bedroom was closing in on her, sending her into a panic that left every muscle in her body quivering. He’d come a step closer and towered above her with his magnetic and charming presence.
“You know you’ll give in and dance with me,” he warned, his eyes flashing with sensuous heat.
Kierra sensed her world slipping away. She knew better than to allow him closer, and yet he’d cornered her as if he’d known she’d be here dusting and vacuuming. Had he arranged this meeting? She hadn’t seen him in almost three years. No, that was an outright lie. Without his knowledge, she’d watched him several times as he bathed in the cool blue waters in the enclosed courtyard.
He was the most attractive man she’d ever seen. His arms rippled with muscles, as did his thighs. She’d even allowed herself to wonder what would happen if she’d lain between his thighs, his hot shaft pulsing with fierce longing and her wet pussy spasming with need.
She gave a shuddering breath. She shouldn’t have looked, but the sight of his nude, virile body left her weak and helpless. Kierra could never have him. Sex with a Jaquill was punishable by death.
With a jolt, she brought herself back to the present. “No, I won’t give in. All we’ve done together belongs in the past.” The distant past when they were barely more than children, growing up in a world filled with strict rules where the ruling class, the Jaquill, weren’t allowed to associate with the kattanee, their
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