Читать книгу Forbidden Craving: The Nymph King / The Beautiful Ashes - Gena Showalter - Страница 13

CHAPTER SIX

FOR YEARS, VALERIAN had imagined his perfect future. He would lead the strongest army in Atlantis. His queen would rule at his side, happy to belong to him. She would adore him. Of course she would adore him. He would treasure her. Their days would be hot, but their nights would be hotter.

Finally he’d found her—only to lose her?

What if another warrior selected her during the ceremony?

Someone would. Surely. What man could resist the fire burning beneath her cool facade, begging for release?

Rage detonated inside him. He’d said he wouldn’t choose a woman, but he regretted the vow with every fiber of his being.

He couldn’t go back on his word, but he couldn’t allow his Moon to end up with anyone else, either.

What was he going to do? Not all of his men loved him. A few would choose her simply to strike at him.

His cousin might even attempt to trade her for his crown.

He’d also vowed he would never relinquish his reign. But what good was his crown without his queen?

He wanted—nay, he needed—her. To kiss her. To know the taste of her tongue and her skin. He’d come close to kissing her in the cave. Would she have fought him...or melted for him?

Like you really have to wonder.

She would have fought him. For some reason, she wanted to get to know him before she allowed herself to enjoy him. A novel concept. One he actually...appreciated?

He’d never before cared about the reasons a woman desired him. The pheromone. His pretty face. His strength. His exalted position. Whatever! But for the first time, he wanted someone to desire him for...dare he think it?...his personality—the man he’d become.

Doubts surfaced. You kidnapped her, putting your needs above her wants. Your personality is lacking.

Pain tore through the center of his chest. Could he win her affections despite his crime?

Perhaps. But he would have to win her the same way he’d won the dragon palace. With cunning, precision and an absolute lack of mercy.

Slowly his lips lifted in a grin. Oh, yes. She would soon find herself on the receiving end of a full-scale attack.

“Take me back to the beach,” she said, tugging against his hold. Her heartbeat drummed erratically against his back, and he could feel the shallow exhalations of her breath against his skin. “Right now. I’m through playing nice. Do you hear me?”

“Everyone hears you, Moon.” He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her body to his. “The answer is no.”

Their bare stomachs pressed together, and she sucked in a breath. His muscles jumped in excited reaction.

She might deny it, but she was aware of him in a very sexual way. A wonderful start!

“You are frightened,” he said, “and I’m sorry for it.”

“Frightened? Ha! I’m so angry I could spit.”

“Spitting is a sign of your anger? Noted.”

For some reason, his response caused her to screech.

At her outburst, several of his men flinched. A few regarded her with weary reluctance.

Hope bloomed. Had he just found the answer to his dilemma?

“Whatever you do,” he said, “do not attack my men as they make their selection.”

Her head lifted, and her eyes glared amber fire at him. “You can’t stop me.”

Do not smile, he thought. Get this over with.

Anticipation thickened the air. A contingent of warriors lined one side of the room while a sweet-smelling cluster of females lined the other.

“I’m not placing myself on the menu of this—this smorgasbord.” She slammed her elbow into his stomach, almost knocking the air from his lungs.

His men watched them with varying expressions of horror. For their benefit, he said, “Be still, woman.”

“Sure. If you’ll do me a favor and die.”

The horror intensified, just as he’d hoped. If he, the most desired of nymphs, failed to entice this woman, his men were destined to fail with her, too. No one wanted to risk failure. Or even a lengthy wooing. Not while sex could be easily had with another.

Valerian forced a frown, feigning disappointment, and tapped her on the backside. Once again, she reacted as he’d hoped.

“Did you just spank me?” she bellowed. Her eyes were dark velvet, rich and warm, absolutely riveting in her pale face. “Tell me you didn’t just spank me, Valerian.”

Ah, he loved hearing his name spill from her soft, pink lips. The rest of the world faded away, as it always seemed to do when he looked at her.

“I told you I would never lie to you,” he said.

“You also told me you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Did my love tap hurt you?”

Her perfect white teeth flashed in a scowl. “Pain isn’t always physical.”

True. “Did I hurt you mentally? Emotionally?” The idea hurt him, physically, mentally and emotionally.

How many others had hurt her throughout her young life?

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I plead the fifth.”

“Fifth. Five. Is that the number of ways you hope I’ll take you?” he asked softly.

Another bellow. “Stop acting as if you adore me,” she grated. “It’s creepy.”

“But I do adore you.”

“You can’t! How many times do I have to tell you? You. Don’t. Know. Me.”

“I know you have a temper.”

“And so do millions of other people.”

“I know you like to be touched, whether you admit it or not.” Many times she’d leaned into him before coming to her senses and stiffening. “I know you like when I compliment you.” Her gaze always softened.

She huffed and puffed. “You’re wrong.”

“Would you rather I say mean things to you?”

“Yes!”

He also knew she meant that and blinked with confusion. “Why?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” she challenged.

Only one reason made any sense, and he thrilled. “When I’m kind, your defenses threaten to crumble.”

She gave an adamant shake of her head.

He only thrilled harder!

“My king,” Broderick prompted. “We’re ready. We have instructed the women to remain in place until they’ve been chosen.”

Valerian blanked his expression. He picked up his woman and carried her to the end of the line. A quick count revealed more men than women.

Many warriors would be going to bed alone tonight. What if someone decided having a chance to woo Moon would be better than having no chance at all?

“Stay quiet,” he told her, suspecting she would do the opposite. “Everyone will want a good look at you without any distractions.”

She lifted her chin. “This T and A pageant sucks balls. I won’t passively stand here—and neither should you,” she shouted at the other women. “We are human beings, and we have rights. Men do not choose us, we choose our men. We say no to these nymphos and their demeaning ceremony. We demand to be returned home. Who’s with me?”

Silence.

“Who’s with me?” Broderick asked.

One female jumped up, her arm extended in the air. “Pick me! Pick me!”

“No. Me!”

Shaye’s shoulders brushed his chest as they rolled in, and several strands of silken hair snagged in his nipple ring.

“If I help you remain unchosen,” he whispered, “will you tell me your name?”

“I—maybe.” Her eyelids slitted, the length of her lashes casting spiky shadows over her cheeks. “Why would you help me?”

Why indeed. The answer should have been obvious to her. “I intend to keep you for myself.” He stated the words as baldly as possible. He needed an extreme reaction from her—something to appall his men further.

“I’m not a piece of meat, and this isn’t a buffet. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Her gaze blazed over his men. “All of you should be ashamed.”

Valerian heaved a mighty sigh. “If you won’t remain in line,” he called loudly, “I’ll be obligated to hold you in place.”

“Keep your hands to yourself! I don’t want to be touched. I’ll never want to be touched.”

Nymphs recoiled in horror.

A wave of triumph swept through him. “Broderick,” he called.

“Yes, my king.” The warrior stepped forward, excitement radiating from him.

“As second in command and leader of the elite, you are granted first choice.” Valerian loosened his hold on his captive so that her movements were more obvious.

She squirmed, her murmured curses and grunts filling the air.

Broderick grinned and approached the females, starting at the far end. Feminine twitters and purrs echoed throughout the spacious enclosure.

A new chorus erupted. “Pick me, pick me!”

“What have you done to them?” Shaye demanded.

Full disclosure. “We produce a potent pheromone all...well, most women find pleasing.”

She stiffened. “By pheromone, do you mean drug?”

“The word drug implies wrongdoing on our part. Just as humans have no control over the way they perspire, we have no control over the way we pheromone. And it doesn’t drug. It frees hidden desires.”

Broderick slowly edged his way down the line, stopping here and there to study a woman more closely—even to touch. But he didn’t ask questions, getting to know the women better, and it clearly irritated Shaye, who mumbled under her breath.

By the time he reached her, the warrior had yet to make his selection.

He reached out to touch her.

Valerian had to swallow a harsh rebuke.

She reared back, calling, “Shaye Octavia Holling. That’s my name.”

Shaye. Valerian rolled the name over his tongue, savoring its delicacy. “I like your name.”

“Thank you,” she snapped. “I got it for my birthday.”

Funny girl. “Kick him.” He breathed the command straight into her ear. “As hard as you can.”

Without hesitation, she slammed her knee between Broderick’s legs. The stunned warrior hunched over, gasping for breath; the rest of the army burst into gales of laughter.

“I’m not your chattel,” Shaye grated. “You disgust me. I hope your testicles have to be surgical removed from you intestines.”

Valerian bit back a grin. His second in command quickly selected the curviest woman in line. The pair rushed from the dining hall without a backward glance.

One down...

“Dorian.” Valerian nodded to the man often referred to as the sexiest male in Atlantis. “You’re next.”

To Shaye—would he ever get enough of her name?—he whispered, “When he approaches you, ignore him. Don’t even look at him.”

“You’re sure?” she whispered back.

Valerian had expected the process of elimination to infuriate him. Instead, he and Shaye were working together, and he loved it.

“I’m sure.”

* * *

SHAYE COULDN’T BELIEVE she stood in a line of singles, being ogled by nymphos while relying on Valerian to ensure her safety. He’d gotten her into this mess in the first place! But she could think of no other alternative. Letting one of these barbarians “claim” her and drag her away to do who knew what to her held zero appeal.

“Won’t ignoring him bring out all his caveman instincts?” she asked softly.

“Anyone else? Yes. Not him.” Valerian sounded amused. “His pride will demand immediate soothing—from someone else.”

Well. Consider him ignored.

The one named Dorian had onyx hair and irises so pure and blue they rivaled the ocean. His mouthwatering beauty was something out of a fairy tale, his features somehow even more perfect than Valerian’s....but he didn’t make her ache.

He didn’t fill her mind with X-rated images of naked, straining bodies.

As Dorian followed Broderick’s example and considered every woman in line, Shaye’s hands curled into fists.

How would these men like it if the tables were turned? If they were the ones being looked over and judged?

Who was she kidding? They would love every second of it.

There had to be a way to override the nympho pheromone and convince these women they did not sexually desire their captors.

When Dorian reached Shaye, he made sure to remain out of striking distance. He studied her, his intense gaze lingering on her every curve.

Just as before, Valerian stiffened.

She peered down at her cuticles as if she hadn’t a care.

“You intrigue me, female,” Dorian told her.

She faked a yawn. His intrigue? Probably nothing more than the pride Valerian had mentioned. Winning the one others had failed to win would come with a side of bragging rights.

“Female?”

Another yawn.

The warrior expelled a frustrated breath.

Maybe she had a cruel streak, because she liked upsetting him.

“Look at me,” Dorian commanded, reminding her of a petulant child.

She brushed an invisible piece of lint from her arm.

He tangled a hand through his hair and eyed his boss. “Valerian. A little help, if you please.”

Valerian lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I can’t force her eyes on you unless I remove them.”

“But—”

“Is she the one you want or not?” The words lashed from him, abrupt and harsh. Filled with impatience. “Others await their turn.”

A scowl darkened Dorian’s features before he spun from Shaye and stalked to an Asian sweetie with a lily in her hair. “I choose you.”

Lily actually cheered.

“If you guys are going to select women based on their appearance,” Shaye muttered, “you should first make sure you’re Chris or Liam Hemsworth.”

A growl rose from him. “Who are these men to you?”

“Only my lovers.” In her dreams.

Just because a real man had never really tempted her, and just because she’d encased her heart in icy armor, well, that didn’t mean her mind had never fantasized and her body had never ached. She’d ached. Oh, she’d ached.

“No longer,” Valerian grated. “You’re mine.”

A new card took shape. I love watching you sleep...through the crack in your bedroom curtains.

“Are you familiar with the term stalker?” she asked.

“Stalk. Noun. The stem of a herbaceous plant. To stalk. Verb. To pursue or approach stealthily. Therefore stalker must be...one who pursues stealthily.”

Smart man. “One who pursues someone who doesn’t want to be pursued.”

A sharp inhalation. “I’m not stalking you.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself, buddy.”

The ceremony continued for another half hour. Only one other woman appeared upset by the proceedings—the same one who’d been unwilling to blithely walk into the water.

She was a tiny thing and very pretty, with dark, curly hair, wide, dark eyes and a button nose. Of Spanish heritage, maybe. Despite her innocent, schoolgirl features, she radiated a wild sensuality that had intrigued many of the nymphos. They’d passed her over, however, because she’d trembled with fear rather than eagerness.

But pickings were becoming slim, and a tall warrior with beads in his sandy-colored hair eventually selected her. One of the men still waiting for his turn slammed his fist into the wall, the force of the blow reverberating through the entire room.

“Choose another. I want that one,” he bellowed.

“Too bad for you, Joachim,” was the smug reply. “She’s mine now.” Beaded Hair clasped the girl’s hand and tugged her from the line.

Her tremors worsened, and she dragged her heels, but she never uttered a word in protest.

Obviously puzzled by her lack of enthusiasm, her would-be lover glanced over his shoulder and frowned. “Do not be afraid, little one. I won’t hurt you.”

She chewed on her bottom lip, tears in her eyes.

“Valerian,” Shaye said, “you told me no one would be harmed. Well, she’s being harmed. Stop him.”

“Shivawn isn’t striking her, and he won’t. He’ll feed and care for her. He’ll—”

“Listen to me. She doesn’t want food, and she certainly doesn’t want to be alone with him.” Unwilling to wait for Valerian’s response, Shaye shouted, “Let her go! Now! You might have picked her, but she doesn’t pick you.”

Shivawn’s frown deepened. “But... I’ll be good to you.”

Her frightened, watery gaze landed on Shaye, and she chewed on her bottom lip. Still she didn’t speak a word.

“Valerian.” Shaye latched on to his wrist and squeezed. “You have to do something about this. Please.”

Seconds passed in absolute silence, everyone in the room waiting for the king’s decree.

Shaye wrenched away from him to rush to the girl—who she then freed from Shivawn’s grip. She stepped between the pair, her gaze searching for...she wasn’t sure.

“I know you want to go home,” she said. “I’ll find a way, I swear it.” Will never give up. “But until then, how do you want to handle this situation?”

Silence. The Spanish girl even looked away from her, as if she couldn’t bear to be the object of anyone’s scrutiny.

“Obviously she doesn’t want anything to do with you, either.” Shivawn clasped Shaye’s wrist, clearly intending to move her out of the way.

Her self-defense training kicked in, and she pivoted, grabbing hold of his wrist and dropping to the floor, her weight and momentum dragging him down with her. Upon impact, she thrust out her legs, nailing him in the chest and causing him to flip over her head.

He remained on his back, staring up at the crystal ceiling. Held immobile by shock?

Other warriors gaped.

Valerian raced to her side to pull her to her feet. He focused on the other woman. “Do you wish to be chosen by another warrior? Do you wish to be given a room of your own? I’ll ensure you are undisturbed.”

Her eyes roved over the remaining, eager men. She shrank back, gulped, then slowly shook her head.

No to Shivawn? Or no to the room? Or both?

“You may take her to your chamber, Shivawn, but you are not to touch her tonight. If one of the humans I...met...yesterday is interested in...meeting you, you may...meet her in a guest room.”

Why the hesitation? Did met, meeting and meet actually mean screwed, screwing and screw?

“Why don’t you take her home instead?” Shaye asked as Shivawn stood.

“Do you wish to go home?” Valerian asked the other woman.

Again, the girl shrank back and shook her head no.

Shaye didn’t understand. “Do you want to go with Shivawn?”

A nearly imperceptible nod, but a nod all the same.

She glared at Valerian. “Can Shivawn be trusted to obey your command?”

“All my men can be trusted to obey me. More than that, they aren’t rapists.” There was a good amount of affront in his tone. “Go,” he told the couple.

Shivawn and the girl hurried out of the room.

The man who’d hit the wall punched the guy next to him.

“Happy?” Valerian asked as he escorted Shaye back to the line.

“No!”

Of course, the “selection” continued.

This time, none of the soldiers approached her. Perhaps because she’d proved too much trouble for zero reward.

The line dwindled significantly.

“It’s almost over,” Valerian whispered. His breath fanned her ear, and he trailed a fingertip along the bumps of her spine. A caress to arouse...or a gesture of comfort?

Did it matter? Either way, she almost slumped into a boneless heap. So good! Only the sudden, unexpected feeling of being watched strengthened her resolve to appear unaffected. Her eyes darted across the remaining men—and collided with hate.

Every fiber of her being recoiled.

“Lean on me if your feet hurt,” Valerian said, mistaking her reaction.

“No, thank you.” Leaning on another—relying on another—would never appeal to her. Even though the idea of being enveloped by his heat and strength actually did appeal to her.

In her experience, the moment she softened and allowed someone in, that someone would leave her, disappoint her or betray her.

“Joachim,” Valerian called. “Your turn has arrived.”

“That one.” Joachim, as it turned out, was the man with hate in his eyes. “The pale one in your arms.”

Valerian cursed, and Shaye gasped. She’d been so sure she’d scared everyone away. Now ice chilled every inch of her.

“What did you say?” Valerian wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tightly, his fingers digging into her skin, probably bruising.

The shocking thing? She didn’t want him to let go.

Joachim braced his legs apart, his expression stern and smug. He wasn’t a man besotted or even consumed by lust. No, he looked ready for a fight. “Give her to me. She is mine.”