“Why have you not used your skills on me instead?”
This inquiry was accompanied by another grin, which had her shouting again. “Because what you did, you did to me, not to a Sec 1—to me!”
“And you are, after all, a woman?”
“I hate you,” was all she could think to reply to that observation, but the words came out with difficulty through the knot in her throat and sounded tepid even to her ears.
“Enough to want my blood?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped automatically. “If I wanted your blood, I’d have had it by now.”
Her eyes widened the moment she said it, the reason dawning on her finally why she was lacking conviction in her words. She still didn’t hate the farden jerk. Damn! Why did the effects of the punishment have to wear off completely, leaving her nothing to support and sustain her fury with? The fact that the effects were gone only proved the punishment had been terrible while it lasted, but nothing to warrant true revenge over.
And yet she wasn’t forgetting that it had been terrible, that he’d made her beg and cry and forfeit her pride totally. The worst of it was that he could remember everything she’d done and said; that every time she looked at him from now on, she’d wonder if he was remembering it, and gloating over it. But she could view it objectively now, even allowing that what he’d done was normal and acceptable from his standpoint, the Sha-Ka’ani way of doing things. That she couldn’t accept those ways was her problem. That they had ruined what she felt for the warrior was also her problem. She just wished she didn’t regret it so much.
But he wasn’t likely to care one way or the other, as long as he got his service from her. Or would he care? For some reason, she had the feeling he thought she was just blowing off steam, that nothing had really changed between them. That would account for his amusement, and for the fact that he didn’t seem to be taking anything she said seriously.
She didn’t need to convince him. He’d find out the way it was soon enough, when he got only unwilling service from her from now on. But he’d said she could speak her mind, and she hadn’t yet told him even half of what she was feeling. So maybe the rest of it would get through to him, and maybe a calm approach would help.
“Look, warrior, to be honest, I don’t actually hate you. You can’t help being an insensitive brute any more than I can help not liking it. None of us are perfect, and I’d be the first to admit I don’t even come close to the mark. So I still owe you service. Well, I’ll be here for you to take it, but note the key word is ‘take.’ You won’t be getting willing service from me anymore.”
This merely raised a golden brow. “Perhaps you have forgotten what your service is, woman. It is to deny me nothing. If I demand your willingness, will you deny it to me?”
Tedra flushed with chagrin, and felt her temper returning. “There’s a difference between willingness given and willingness forced. I gave it to you before because I wanted to ... because I wanted you. But I don’t want you any longer, so now you will indeed have to demand it from me. I won’t fight you. That’s not what I meant at all. No, I’ll obey you, just like I’ll obey all your farden rules around here, because, believe me, you did make your point last night, warrior. You made it about an hour after you got started. The other five hours’ worth of your barbaric punishment only made me appreciate my own world, my own culture, where women aren’t subjected to a man’s whim. They made me see how stupid I was all these years, looking for a man I couldn’t beat, thinking that’s what I wanted. I suppose I should thank you for making me see that’s not what I wanted after all. I’d much rather break the fingers of a guy who tries doing to me what you did. I won’t make the mistake of losing that option the next time around.”
“Does this mean you will try to break my fingers?”
He was still amused! Still grinning! “Not yours, beetlebrain,” she fairly snarled, “I was talking about the next guy I’m dumb enough to think I want. Stars! I just love wasting my breath, I really do!”
“So I must believe, since most of what you have said is patently untrue.”
“All right, I’ll bite. Just what does your barbarian reasoning base that assumption on?”
“You still want me.”
It took a moment for the sheer arrogance behind that statement to hit her. He couldn ‘t know. He was guessing. Even she had been able to ignore what his closeness was doing to her, so how could he know?
“I don—”
“You want me now.”
“No!” she cried.
She took a step back, only to come up against the couch behind her. She was shaking her head, reinforcing the lie. But she didn’t know he could smell her arousal, so it was little wonder he reached for her despite her denial. And once she was enfolded in those massive arms, and those firm lips took fierce possession of hers, there was nothing left to say. She was still shaking her head mentally, but only for her own sorry sake. She did still want the big jerk. Her mind might deplore it, but her body was all too happy to make a fool of her.
Chapter Thirty
It was several hours, and a whole lot of pleasure later, before Tedra was thinking clearly again. But before she could work up any indignation over the way she had been defeated this time, the barbarian was leaning over her on the bed, and there was nothing in the way of amusement about him now. He was languorous. He was sated. Yet his expression was totally serious.
“Thus is it proven,” he said.
She didn’t have to ask what was proven. Injured feelings and wounded pride hadn’t stood up very well next to his kisses; neither had determination, anger, or anything else. She had to face it. She was simply a sucker for a gorgeous body. It was contemptible, deplorable, but there it was, proven without a doubt. She was only surprised Challen wasn’t gloating over it. But he wasn’t. There was no triumph in his expression, only a kind of reluctance to say more, but he did have more to say.
“It is now time for me to speak my thoughts as you have done. I will endeavor to be more truthful in the doing.”
This came with a halfhearted smile, an attempt at gentle teasing, minus the mood for it. She doubted he knew how to really gloat over something, everything was so black and white for him. He was positive in all his beliefs, and that didn’t leave room for doubt or rubbing things into the ground. She wished she could be just half as decisive.
“All right, warrior, I’ll listen,” she said with a sigh. “But first I should point out that the only thing that has been proved is that my body likes sex-sharing. That doesn’t mean I was untruthful in what I said, only that my body doesn’t have its priorities straight just now.”
And right now was a good example, she thought, wishing he’d move away from her if all he wanted to do was talk. He was in full contact with the right side of her body, lying there facing her, she on her back, he on his side and raised up with the support of one arm, so that he seemed to be looming over her. His chest was so wide he’d only have to drop one shoulder to completely cover her upper torso with it, and although his hands weren’t touching her, the one he had resting on his hip had all the pertinent parts of her body within ready reach. The position was distracting, nerve-racking, and cleverly dominating, all of which were likely intentional on his part, forcing her to work twice as hard to concentrate on what he was saying. Resenting his subtle tactics helped her to do that.
“Generally a warrior finds amusement,” he was saying now, “in the sayings and excuses his woman offers when he knows her to be displeased with him. Truly do I wish I could find such amusement in your words.”
“You were amused,” she reminded him.
“I was relieved, kerima, and happy that I had not done such damage as could not be corrected.”
“There you go again, dismissing everything I’ve said. What’s been done can’t be corrected, Challen. You took a simple lesson in discipline and turned it into a demonstration of barbarian mercy—the lack thereof. You overdid it.”
“I know.”
“Your punishment continued much longer than was called for.”
“You’re confessing you’re a sadist, right?” she quipped sarcastically. “Somehow I’d already guessed.”
That brought a frown to match her own. “I am confessing that I so abhorred the duty that was mine, aid was needed to see it done. I took that aid without knowing what the actual results would be.”
“Wait a minute. Aid, as in agent? Aid, as in character-changer? You took a farden drug?”
“It can be called such, yes.”
She could only stare at him, not sure whether she wanted to laugh or be furious. The big, brave barbarian needing help to discipline the little woman? That was funny. It was also kind of touching, if the reason was really what he had said—whoa, auto-reverse that. She wasn’t actually going to let that make a difference, was she? Not farden likely.
“So you didn’t like the duty that was yours? You could have fooled me, babe. I was still punished, as I recall, so your hating it or not doesn’t cut ice from where I sit.”
“Nor did it, as you say, ‘cut ice’ for me either. I regret there was a need for discipline. That does not mean I could ignore that need.”
“Don’t give me that. You’re the head honcho around here, the shodan. You can do anything you farden well please.”
“And it pleases me, kerima, to see to your safety. If this includes assuring you obey rules made for your safety—”
“I think I’m done listening, warrior,” Tedra cut in frostily. “When you make up your mind which it was you felt, pleasure or abhorrence, let me know and we can discuss it again. On second thought, don’t. This subject’s about thirty feet underground already.”
“You will listen,” he said, annoyance with her attitude making his voice stern and commanding. “I have yet to beg your forgiveness. I do so now.”
“That’s a little barbarian humor, right? You want forgiveness when you’ve just admitted you’re not at all sorry? You’ll pardon me if I don’t feel like laughing.”
Frustrated, that hand she’d been worrying about came up to place a finger over her lips. “Not another word from you until I have finished.”
He waited for her to nod in compliance. She didn’t feel like nodding, but he wasn’t going to go on until she did, and his patience was infinite compared with hers, which had already expired. So she nodded, but that didn’t get her lips unsmashed. He wasn’t taking any chances.
“A warrior will do what must be done regardless of his feelings on the matter. Do you require additional discipline, make no mistake, woman, you will receive it. But it will not be done again with the carelessness and lack of regard shown you the previous darkness. There can be no excuse for that lack of concern, for my being so unaware of what I was doing that the doing went far beyond what was required. The irresponsibility was mine in not facing what was . required without aid, but more in not knowing the full consequence of that aid beforehand. The blame is mine. The regret is mine. It is doubtful even your forgiveness will relieve me of all the guilt I feel, yet do I earnestly beg it of you. Will you give it, chemar?”
He removed his finger from her lips and waited, but Tedra truly didn’t know what to say. The nightmare hadn’t actually been deliberate on his part? Could that really be true? Would he say it was if it wasn’t?
He was admitting to being imperfect, to having made a mistake. That surprised her enough, but he was also admitting regret, and damned if he hadn’t sounded sincere. Yet he hadn’t said there wouldn’t be any more punishments—quite the opposite. In one breath he promised more; in the next, he begged forgiveness for that already given. And that was another thing. He begged forgiveness. Begged. Was that supposed to be a sop for her lacerated pride? All it did was remind her that he wasn’t any more likely to forget all the begging she’d done than she was. Of a sexual nature, how could he forget it?
And she’d made a stand. She didn’t like having the foundation knocked out from under it. Was she to let him think he could get away with anything as long as he offered up a sweet apology afterward? And yet— and yet he’d called her chemar. Love. Of course, to a Sha-Ka’ani warrior, the word was no more than an endearment. But she’d still liked hearing it, had put her own meaning behind it—for a moment anyway— and . . . and was she really going to let him talk her out of her mad?
In self-defense, she demanded, “How could you be unaware of what you were doing, yet retain the memory of it? That sounds impossible to me, Challen, no matter how I look at it.”
“It is impossible. I remember very little of what was done. I have judged the seriousness of it solely by your reaction, and in knowing the new rising was almost upon us before I returned to a semblance of awareness and left you.”
“Are you actually saying you don’t remember what you did to me?” she asked incredulously.
“I do not... yet is there a certainty that what was intended to be done was done.”
That arrogant certainty that he had done his duty as he had intended was merely annoying at this point. “Let me rephrase that, then. Are you saying you don’t remember my part in the evening’s agenda?”
“Nothing beyond your last attempt to feed me. I recall your anger before that, and everything else from the time I joined you until then, for the aid had yet to take full hold of me. But I cannot recall even beginning your punishment, or any part of it.”
And she was supposed to buy that just on his say-so? “Then you don’t recall my threatening to jump off the balcony, to take my life, to cut off that useless piece of flesh . . . between . . . your—?”
She didn’t finish. The horror of his expression said he actually believed she’d said those things last night, proving he didn’t recall the things she had really said and done. She might have been tempted to say those things, but she’d been too busy crying and begging him to make love to her to even think of threats and bluffs.
She felt now as if she’d had the breath knocked out of her. Her foundation of anger and resentment toppled from its last thread of support. Merely assuming he had done as he meant to do, and that she had reacted as he had promised she would, was not the same as having actual memories of it. He had no memory of her shame, he could only imagine it, and a man could imagine all he liked and never come close to the reality.
She could even console her pride by the certainty that she could probably have held out for the normal length of time devoted to such punishments—except that if Challen hadn’t been under the influence of a character-changer, he wasn’t likely to have stopped until she at least did a little crying and begging. And even a little crying and begging would have changed what she was feeling now, which was an urge to laugh because she could forgive him now, could still enjoy him until her service ended. So she could actually be grateful that he had taken the farden aid, even if it did prolong her misery at the time. The shame and humiliation that had been the worst of it were only hers to recall, and how long would such a memory last when it wasn’t shared?
But was she going to let him off the hook so easily? His mistake was no worse than hers, but she’d been punished for hers. Who punished a warrior when he erred? She could, she thought with a measure of keen satisfaction, and by no more than using his guilt against him. But she didn’t have to lie to do it. In fact, it bothered her that he still looked mighty upset thinking she’d been moved to violence, not only against him but herself, too, when she hadn’t.
“Don’t you recognize anger talking when you hear it, warrior? I never said those things to you last night. I didn’t even think them.”
“This was a means to add to my guilt?”
“No, just to see if you were telling the truth.”
“And if you are still angry, I must conclude the truth has made little difference to you. If you cannot forgive me—”
“I didn’t say tha
t,” she cut in, making sure she sounded grudging about it.
But he took her literally, that if she wasn’t saying she couldn’t forgive him, then she would, and his relief was instantaneous, flowing through him. She hadn’t realized how tense he’d been until she felt him relax against her. She didn’t appreciate the grin that came with the relief, however.
“You’re asking for a lot without any compensation at all, warrior,” she grumbled, hoping to knock a dent in his returned good humor.
She didn’t. “This is so.” He tried to look grave again in agreement, but just couldn’t manage it. “Thus I have brought a gift for you, to make amends in-a small way.”
That arrested her curiosity, especially since he had shown up without anything but himself. And she had to wonder what a barbarian’s idea of an amends-making gift could be. But whatever it was, it wasn’t what she had in mind.
“Gifts might appease your Sha-Ka’ani women, but not me. Where I come from, it’s tit for tat.”
“This you will have to explain.”
“It means equal retaliation, babe, but I might settle for simply changing places—say for the rest of the evening.”
“You wish me to lie on my back while you face me at my side?”
She almost laughed at his confusion. “No, not physical places.”
“Ah, a status change.” He concluded next, and with some amusement, “You wish to be shodan. ”
“No ... I had in mind me being the victor, you the challenge loser, giving me all rights and privileges that that entails.”
He became so still, she thought he’d stopped breathing. He didn’t have to try looking grave now. Actually, he looked kind of shocked.
“You want me in a position where you may order and I must obey?”
“Now you got it, babe, but there can be no balking if you agree to make amends this way. No matter what I might have you do, or do to you, there can be no halt-calling. You’ll have to take it like a true challenge loser, owing the same service I owe to you.”
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