The Princess of the Wild

by Lorelei Orion

  He left a moment and returned with a large and masculine black dressing robe.

  “Sorry,” he uttered. “But this is all I have for you, for now.”

  She nodded her thanks, wondering what he was waiting for. The bed was there, right behind her ...

  He moved to the doorway and paused.

  “Like I said, Skye—no strings,” he said quietly. “I’ll be in the room across from here ... if you need me ...”

  He winked—quite wickedly—and shut the door behind him.

  Skye sank down to the bed, disappointed and confused.

  What kind of game was he playing, now?

  Chapter 9

  The sun streamed brightly through the chamber windows when Skye woke, having her answers. She knew what game challenged her, and she aimed to win. Nick wanted her to go to him, to surrender herself to him—mind, body, and soul. But, she would make it so he would come to her, and surrender. He was far too self-assured in her want of him, far too disparaging. Although she desperately wanted his arms around her, this was a matter of pride.

  She had already accepted—somewhere within her sleep—that she was in love with him, but come the hell or the high water she wouldn’t let him destroy her. He wanted her also, enough so to come back for her even after her cutting words. She dared not think that he—a wandering rogue with a lust for brothels—was in love with her ... but he could be. He was, after all, the blond-haired, blue-eyed man of her visions. Or, were her dreams a warning to her?

  Still, this bed was far too big for one ...

  She rose and went into the adjoining bath, a smaller yet elegant room, and took a quick shower, and dried herself under the blower. She slipped the black silk dressing robe over her bare curves, pulling up the material to raise the hem and tying the sash tightly at the hip, so that she could walk. She tidied the bed, and took a moment to stand before the mirror, and she raised her chin to herself, to her reflection, showing her determination there and in her violet-blue eyes. Then she was off to the sport of the game.

  She moved to the bedroom across from hers and listened carefully, her ear near the door; no sound came from within. She rapped her knuckles lightly on the wood; still there was silence. She found her bravery and opened the door, seeing the empty bed with the rumpled black bed sheets. He was not in the room.

  She walked the hall and descended the flight of stairs, heading for the foyer. He surely was here, somewhere ...

  The message board on the wall near the entrance sensed her presence when she walked into the room. Nick’s voice came from it, greeting her.

  “Hey, you! Rise and shine! I’ll be right back—I’ve a few errands to run. Just make yourself at home—your breakfast is in the warmer. Be back in a minute.”

  There was a pause, and then he said, “In case you haven’t figured it out, this is your secret admirer.”

  Skye smiled, warmed by his humor. She went off to the kitchen for some coffee, and to get her breakfast—a steaming plate of eggs, meat, and toast—and she brought it out on the serene and beautiful terrace to partake.

  After she disposed of the plates in the kitchen, she moved off to explore the mansion, to occupy her time until he returned. She wouldn’t snoop, but she was very curious about such a place. With all her knowledge of the wilds, all this luxury was new to her.

  Out from the kitchen, there was a large arched doorway that led to the banquet hall, a huge room that could house a rowdy festival. The tables were long and polished, gleaming with a rich amber hue, and there were no less than two hundred cane-backed chairs set against them, their tufted cushions a velvety pale blue that matched the shade of the walls. Chandeliers graced the high ceiling, their crystal shards shimmering in the sunlight that flickered in the long rows of windows.

  Amazed, she moved on down the hall, to another archway that sported an entertainment room—a theater—beyond it. It had a huge viewer screen and many rows of foldable chairs. She moved on toward an exit of the mansion and peered outside. Before her, there was a black stone path that led to a gaming hall, which was a large metallic building that showed a hint of the holographic computer boards through the wide windows. She slipped out the doorway and took the path that led to the courtyard.

  Here there was a very long and rectangular pool, the water aqua and clear, framed by a hard and ivory stone. A bed of colorful and fragrant flowers encircled the entire gated courtyard, sending a heady scent into the air. She moved along the pool, coming to an area that had a huge fire pit, next to high stacks of real logs set against the gate. She moved back down the walkway, and saw a different flight of stairs that led back into the house. She took them, and entered a spacious, elegant foyer done in teal and mauve. She realized that she didn’t know where the other foyer was.

  Feeling a bit of a panic, she moved up another flight of stairs and came to a lengthy hall with many doors, ten on each side. She let out a breath of relief; these were the bedrooms—she knew where she was. She moved by the doors, heading for the main foyer.

  She could get lost in here! Spooked, she went out on the terrace and moved down the steps to the freedom of the beach.

  Skye ambled along, keeping nearby so that she would know of his return. Time dragged on while she awaited his presence, making her think that he had a very different idea of how long a minute was ...

  Nicholas parked the auto in the bay, and he struggled with his packages, the gifts he had bought for her. He made it up the staircase and through the doorway, and he dropped his burdens on the nearby lounge, going off in search of her. He checked her bedroom, seeing the tidy bed, and headed off down the hall.

  “Skye?” he called. “You here?”

  When no response came, he called again. He searched the kitchen, the gaming hall, the courtyard, but no Skye. He paused, placing his hands on his hips, and had a brief fear that she had already abandoned him. He shook his head; she wouldn’t do that. She surely was here, somewhere ...

  He made his way back up to the terrace, to search the outdoors. He realized that it was the first place that he should have looked. There she was, strolling slowly on the beach.

  He placed his hands on the railing, watching her. Her long red-gold hair billowed out temptingly in the balmy breeze, caressing her gentle curves, the shapeliness of her hip. She wore his dark dressing robe—which contrasted startlingly against the pearly sand—and even from here he could definitely see the abrupt swell of a full and round breast falling free as she bent, innocently uncovering a seashell. She bent on her haunches, studying her newfound treasure. His desire began to ache, bringing out a disgusted curse from him.

  “Not now,” he reprimanded himself, sternly.

  That wasn’t in his plans ...

  His body threatened to disobey him, so he turned his gaze away ...

  He would keep to his master plan. She must come to him ...

  He had made that vow yesterday, when he was in the bank, hearing of her dire plight. He knew that he—with his name—could correct anything that was wrong with her account in a heartbeat ... but why should he? This was where he wanted her, and good luck had again fallen into his hands.

  But, at the same time, he didn’t want her to feel obligated to him. He wanted her to search her soul and find that she truly wanted to be with him, and he’d keep her here, as his mistress. He’d respect her, giving her all that she desired.

  But again, he must move slowly. She would yield to him soon. It wouldn’t be long, now ...

  Plus, he was still a bit angry with her, for her insolence in trying to trick him, and how she had taken the will of his own body.

  He commanded himself to stop his illustrious cravings. Under control once more, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called out her name, over the rushing din.

  Startled, she turned and saw him, and began heading his way ...

  Skye had a rush of sparks within her belly, seeing him up there, high up on the terrace. Finally, he had returned! She climbed up the staircase and
approached him.

  He was the blond Nick today, looking more handsome than ever, his blue-green eyes sparkling warmly. He wore pale blue leggings and comfortable sandals, his white half-sleeved shirt open a few buttons down, revealing a hint of his wide, tanned breast ... his broad shoulders strong ... She turned her gaze away, overwhelmed.

  “I got a few things for you,” he informed. “You’ve nothing to wear.”

  Curious, she followed him into the foyer, seeing an array of assorted packages on a crimson lounge. She looked at him, wide-eyed.

  “Go—open them,” he urged. “They should fit. This should hold you—until you figure out your account.”

  He went off to the bar along the far wall, to fix himself a drink. Skye went to the colorful bags and chose one to open. Within it was a bevy of sheer and lacy undergarments; she felt the heat rising to her cheeks, but paid it no heed. In another were dresses, simple for everyday wear but sleek and beautiful; most were of a solid color but with vivid shades, what she preferred. Yet another had luxurious nightgowns and robes, silks and satins, all soft to the touch. She searched through the packages, finding that he had thought of everything that a woman would need—shoes and slippers, hats to shield the sun, light coats for night, a scarlet swimsuit, down to the personal toilettes. She had never worn garments like these, being accustomed to her shirts and leggings—even the expensive wardrobe her father had insisted she have for the college couldn’t compare! These were all for an adult and very feminine, and she would enjoy wearing every piece.

  Her delight must have shown on her face because he chuckled, pleased with her reaction. He stood nearby, sipping his red and frosty drink.

  “Do you like them?” he asked.

  She nodded eagerly, but then thought about the motive of his generosity. And, this must have cost him dearly. “But ... you didn’t have to do all of this ...”

  “I wanted to—it isn’t much. Beautiful clothes for a beautiful woman.”

  She ignored his flattery. “I’ll pay you back when I can.”

  “It’s a gift,” he said simply.

  “No. When my account is accessible, I’ll reimburse you.”

  He was silent a moment. “As you wish.”

  She held up a sleeveless golden dress to admire it, wanting to try it on right now.

  “I’ll help you with these,” he said, setting aside his glass on a nearby table and coming to gather up the packages.

  Skye took her armful and followed him to the bedroom where she was staying. They laid them on the bed, and he turned and moved for the door.

  “Why don’t you dress and meet me down at the patio on the beach,” he said. “I feel a lazy day coming on.”

  Suddenly he stopped, as if inspired. “Ah! I forgot something! Be right back.”

  Skye delved into her new wardrobe, to put the garments away. This would fill the large and empty bureau nearby the bed. She was putting them in their place when the knock came on the door. Nick didn’t wait for her response and entered, holding a large crystal vase brimming with lavender roses.

  He seemed disappointed that she was still clothed, but he recovered quickly and set the vase down on the bureau nearby the door. Having a love for flowers, she went to the lovely blooms, to breathe of their fragrance.

  Huskily he said, “I saw them and they reminded me of you.”

  Skye stiffened and slowly moved away from the vase, back to the task waiting on the bed. He was laying the flattery on her just a little too heavily. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  He sighed and said, “Meet me down at the patio ...”

  He left her, closing the door.

  When the last lovely treasure was put away, she slipped into the golden dress and went to the full-length mirror in the bath. Her reflection smiled back at her, her violet-blue eyes bright and sparkling, and her full red lips curving. The sleeveless dress fit her well, the bodice square and embroidered with tiny scrolls of lilac threads at the top, revealing a hint of the swell of her breasts. The velvety material flared out slightly at the hip, falling in wide folds to her knee. She went to get the matching hat and returned to put it on before the mirror, the flouncy rim playfully framing her face.

  She took a moment to remind herself of her vow: He must surrender to her. She nodded, and went off to join him on the patio.

  Nick was lazing back in a lounge chair under a wide multi-hued umbrella when she approached him. When he saw her, he rose quickly to his feet. She felt his stare hot on her, but when he spoke, he was casual.

  “I’ve a good eye,” he commended himself. “A perfect fit.”

  His hand prompted her to sit in the chair parallel to his, across the round and small table, so that she would have the same view of the sea. He took a large pitcher that was almost full with a red and frosty drink, and filled a tall glass. He refilled his glass, and took his chair again. He settled back, stretching out his long legs and cupping his glass in his hand, to again enjoy the peaceful surf. She took a sip of her drink, liking the fruity liquor, and settled back in her own chair, to be as lazy as he.

  They sat there a while, taking in the tranquility. He broke the quiet with his thoughts.

  “You know, Skye, I really don’t know a whole lot about you. You’re quite a little mystery.”

  Skye wondered how she could be mysterious to anyone.

  “Tell me about yourself.”

  She took a sip of her drink and returned the glass to the table. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met. Why is that?”

  She didn’t think that she was all that different from most ... except that her childhood had been rather unusual ... “I’m not that different,” she finally replied.

  “Yes, you are. You’re like ...” He breathed deeply, but could find no words. “I don’t know. Tell me—where were you born?”

  “Here,” she said simply.

  “Where, here?”

  She thought of her childhood home and of her family, their simple cabin and all of the laughter. “In the Colossal Mountains.”

  “The Colossal Mountains. They’re on the continent of Tanzania.”

  She nodded.

  “So when did you move to Seascape City?”

  “When I went to the college.”

  “You said that you and your father traveled a lot?”

  She nodded.

  “When did you leave the mountains?”

  “When I was six.”

  “Six? Why did you leave them?”

  Skye could still feel the heartache, remembering that fateful day. She decided to share it with him. “My mother and brother died.”

  “Oh ... sorry to hear that. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

  “No—that’s all right. They drown in the river, and my papa ... well, we had to leave. He couldn’t stay there after that.”

  “I understand,” he said softly. “My Grandmother Anna drown also—‘course, I never knew her—happened long before I was born.”

  His Grandmother Anna? Why did that sound familiar to her?

  “So where did you live after that?”

  Her thoughts turned to her travels—the long stretches of wilderness, the endless trek. “Different places,” she replied.

  “Whereabouts?”

  “Here ... and on Myrrh.”

  “Can I ask you if your father was rich or poor?”

  She nodded. “He was neither. We didn’t use money, much.”

  “You didn’t use money? So how did you live?”

  “Sometimes we’d get the things we needed with the wood carvings he whittled. He was very good at it.”

  “The carvings he whittled,” he uttered, to himself. “He could support a house with that?”

  “We didn’t need a house.”

  He looked at her, totally perplexed, and she had to turn away from the intensity in his blue-green eyes.

  Finally he asked, “So where did you live?”

  S
kye felt the blush coming to her cheeks.

  “You can tell me,” he prompted softly.

  “Different places. Like Beacon Hill ...”

  “Beacon Hill! That’s nothing but treacherous wilderness!”

  She nodded. “It was nice.”

  He fell back in his chair, trying to decipher it all. “Let me get this straight ... You left your home at the age of six and wandered the hillsides, staying out in the wild?”

  “I ... guess so.”

  He thought a long moment, and then he asked, “What of your father’s estate?”

  “He bought that when I went to the college. He wanted me to be with others my own age.”

  “So, you never played with the boys ...” He trailed off, having to think on that thought a while. He decided to do that later.

  “Your father,” he said. “What sort of man was he?”

  “A very good one,” she replied defensively. “His ... heart was broken after losing my mama and Jencin. I had a good childhood. He schooled me ... took care of me ...”

  “No, Skye—it’s just different, that’s all. I didn’t mean to imply that he was bad.”

  “Good,” she said, relieved. “He was a very good father. I think he even died because of me.”

  “Because of you? How?”

  “When I went to his house that day—before the Kalcoons took me—someone was outside, like they were waiting for him. But I was there, and he had to come out of the house to protect me.”

  “Is that all you remember about it? You didn’t see who it was?”

  She treaded back through the terrifying memory, her father’s panic and the hissing blue laser bolts ... “No. He just kept screaming at me to run. ‘Gunner’, he said.”

  “Gunner?”

  “Yes. That’s all I know.”

  “That’s probably why your account is locked. They’ll do that sometimes, when there’s an investigation going on.”

  She felt the frustration again. “What can I do about it?”

  “Let the authorities do their job and find the person who’s responsible. If that’s all you know, there’s nothing more you can do.”

  He was silent a moment and then asked, “Skye, do you think that maybe your father was running from someone? That that’s why you moved from place to place?”