The Princess of the Wild

by Lorelei Orion

  She nodded. “I’ve thought about it, but I haven’t a clue as to who that would be.”

  “You said that his original name was ‘Hamilton’?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you were born ‘Skye Hamilton’.”

  “I guess so.”

  She could see that he was confused a moment, and then he said, “Well, the authorities are good at what they do. They’ll find who did this.”

  “I hope so,” she replied, solemnly.

  “Ah, see what I’ve done,” he said apologetically. “I’ve went and made you sad. Let’s talk no more of it now—look at this day! Sun shining, surf warm ...”

  He took the pitcher in hand and filled her glass to the brim. “Drink your drink. Relax.”

  She took a few swallows, not wanting to think about any more unpleasantness.

  “So what’s your favorite color?” he asked, completely changing the subject.

  “My favorite color?”

  “Yeah! You know ... blue, red, yellow ...”

  Skye thought a moment, about the vibrant wonder of the rainbow, and couldn’t decide. “I like them all.”

  He nodded. “I should have guessed. What’s your favorite food?”

  “I like eggs. But I don’t know if they’re my favorite ...”

  “When’s your birthday?”

  “In April.”

  “When, in April?”

  “The fourteenth. When’s yours?”

  “In January.”

  “When, in January?”

  “Hey, I’m doing all the interrogating, here! Are you a day person or a night person?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Are you normally an early riser, or—oh, forget it. Do you like the comedy skits or the drama of the theater?”

  “That all depends.”

  “Let me guess—you’ve never been to a theater.”

  She hadn’t, but she wasn’t about to admit it.

  “Do you know about theaters?”

  “Of course. I’m not stupid.”

  “No, you are definitely not stupid. Too many brains, up there.” He paused to notice that she had hardly touched her drink. “Don’t you like margaritas?”

  She took her glass in hand and had a long swallow. “I like it just fine,” she said, cupping her glass in her lap.

  He took a long swallow from his and settled back again. “So, what about the animals?”

  “What about them?”

  “Do you like dogs? Cats? Horses?”

  “I love all animals—except for the mean ones.”

  “Met some mean ones, have you?”

  “I’ve met a few bears and a mountain lion that I didn’t particularly like.”

  “I can bet that you did. You apparently won the battle?”

  “Yes. They left me alone when I stood my ground.”

  “Scared them, did you?”

  “Apparently.”

  “I can see that. You scare me.”

  She gave him an innocent glance. “I’m not all that scary, am I?”

  “Oh, very!” he replied. “I’ve never met a woman who could tango with a bear.”

  A weight fell upon her spirit. The other women ... “So what kind of women do you know?”

  It was a point blank question, one that struck him in his jib. He recovered quickly. “Oh, you know, I’ve met all kinds. But you are definitely a first.”

  ‘But not the last?’ ... She didn’t say it, but the question seemed to hang in the air ...

  He cleared his throat and took a quick swallow from his glass. “You know, you should see this beach at sunrise,” he said quietly. “I’ve seen it when the moon is still up and glowing, the sky a shade of blue that doesn’t even look real ... It makes you think ...”

  Skye wasn’t sure if he was trying to tell her something, or not.

  He set aside his glass on the table, and rose. “What do you say we go find something to eat?”

  Skye rose and followed him to the house.

  The remainder of the day passed rather quietly, while they ate their meat and bread and then went to amble on the beach. His mood was more thoughtful than before, and she felt from his presence that he wanted to take her into his arms and hold her, but every opportunity he had—when she stood near enough to him for him to touch her—he would deny. He would move on, his blond hair billowing in the gentle breeze, his narrow hips swaying in his saunter. He took her hat off her, to free her hair, and he watched her, catching a wind-blown tress, from time to time. She stopped herself often from going to him and making him take her into his arms, because she knew that he knew of his handsomeness and was luring her to come.

  At last dusk came and they made their way up the stone steps.

  Huskily, he asked, “Do you want to go to bed?”

  She nodded, understanding his meaning ... but when they were at her bedroom door, he just stood there.

  He was waiting for her to ask him in. She remembered her vow and couldn’t give him his victory.

  “Good-night,” he said softly, his eyes urging her to surrender.

  “Good-night,” she said softly, closing the door in his face.

  Nicholas stared a while at the door, frustrated. This could be a bit more difficult than he first had thought. She was a stubborn female—this, he was finding—but who did she think she was, denying him his right? She was a very odd woman. No wonder she had been so natural—wolves had raised her. But how could she still be so refined, almost regal in stature? And dammit, he wanted her ...

  He went to the confines of his own bedroom, shaking his head in defeat.

  Chapter 10

  Skye opened her eyes the next morning, her vision flooded with the lavender roses that Nick had left on the bureau. She stared at the beautiful blooms a while, thinking of the one who had given them to her. She hadn’t wanted to close the door on him—she wanted her door open to him. Why was it so important to him that she surrender? She really didn’t know. But, she must endure his charms until he realized that he must come to her.

  She rose from the bed and slipped into her new coral-hued dress, one having a round décolleté and a lacy white hem at the mid-thigh. She brushed her long red-gold hair and went off to find him.

  A message was waiting for her in the foyer. Nick’s voice came from the wall panel.

  “Mornin’, you. I’ll be gone for most of the day, today. I’ve got to go get my ship—I don’t trust those hub stations. I’m sure you can find something around here to keep you busy—the gaming hall is open. Miss you until I see you.”

  There was a pause and then he said, “This is your secret admirer.”

  Skye smiled warmly. He’d miss her ...?

  She had her coffee and breakfast, and then went off to the gaming hall, to find a challenge until he returned.

  Skye lost her interest in the holographic games by the mid-afternoon. She went out to wander on the sunny beach, impatiently awaiting his return. He finally showed up in the late afternoon, calling down for her from the terrace. She hid her eagerness and strolled up the steps, and was captivated by his warm blue-green eyes.

  His smile was bright as he said, “You sure look nice.” After one quick glance, he kept his eyes off the full swell of her breasts. “Did you have a good day?”

  She nodded, although she hadn’t, waiting for him. “Did you get your ship?” she asked.

  “Sure did—it was safe and sound. You hungry?” he asked, moving off for the kitchen.

  Nicholas moved calmly and casually, trying to act unaffected by her beauty while she followed him. He had dropped his ship off in the palace’s bay, and had made another quick disappearance, not wanting to deal with his parents, just yet; at least they’d know that he had returned. He had stopped in to see his friend, Akins, a minute, to tell him about the treasure he had found, and Akins had been impressed, wanting to meet her himself. Nicholas privately didn’t like the idea—he really didn’t want her to meet anyone else, wanting to keep her al
l to himself. He had told Akins about the delicate situation, that she didn’t know who he was.

  Akins had asked, “How are you managing that?”

  “You know me,” he said, smiling.

  His friend had nodded, reminded of his craftiness.

  He had left Akins and jumped into his auto, hurrying back to her. Seeing her now—all soft and lovely in her saucy pink dress—he didn’t know how much more he could endure.

  He knew that he was in a war of wills, but didn’t quite know how it had started. At first, he had wanted her to come to him for her own peace of mind, so it wouldn’t seem that she were obligated to him—he wanted her to be assured that she had his respect. But now, after having spent another restless night, her resistance was starting to make him angry. It was as if they were in a battle of wills where there would be a winner—and a loser. Now it was becoming a matter of pride. But she would give in, soon ...

  They dined out on the terrace, for the most part quietly, sensing each other’s presence but neither one quite having the courage to look. After they cleared away the plates, disposing of them in the kitchen, he turned to her and asked, “Are you comedy or drama tonight?”

  She looked at him, puzzled.

  He urged her to follow him and he sauntered down the hall, entering the theater. In the back row of seats, he prompted her to choose one. She sat, wondering what he had planned for her now.

  After he worked a nearby wall panel, the lights faded to dark, and he took the seat beside her. An image came onto the immense viewer, the beginning of a dramatic tale. She had never been in a theater before and was taken by the hugeness of the screen. He chuckled, touched by her innocence.

  “The lady has to see a show,” he said, mischievously.

  Scarlet Roses Always was a romantic story, where the heroine was in search of her lover. He had met her, but then he had left her, but he returned and kept her in his house. Skye noticed that the plot was suspiciously similar to her situation, and that Nick had seen it before, since he was awaiting her reaction.

  He laid his arm out across the back of her chair. She soon was breathless from his nearness, and tried to breathe even and deep while he twittled with a lock of her hair. Suddenly, she was shocked when she saw what came onto the screen ...

  The hero had returned to his lover—and love her, he was about to! He passionately kissed the heroine, their clothes left in strewn piles on the floor as they made their way to their bed. Skye gasped, and sprang to her feet.

  “I don’t need to see this,” she murmured, her cheeks flaming. “I think I know how it ends.”

  Quickly she left the theater, his hearty laughter ringing in her ears.

  He laughed—until he realized that the show had shocked her virtue. He received another polite ‘Good-night’ at her door, which closed on him, and he glared at the offending portal.

  The next morning, Skye had a new message waiting for her in the foyer.

  “Hi, sweetheart!” Nick’s voice greeted. “I’m out at the pool. Why don’t you come and join me?”

  He paused, and then he said, “This is your secret admirer.”

  Skye laughed and went off to the pool.

  When she saw him through the back foyer’s open doorway, her breath caught in her throat. He was gliding through the clear aqua water, his form not unlike a Greek god, his movements lithe, his sinews rippling. He wore a skimpy black swimsuit, his magnificent backside scarcely covered. She had a longing to touch him there, to lay her hands upon him ... When he reached the pool’s end, he grasped the ladder and slowly lifted himself out. She slipped back behind the door, lest he see her. Cautiously, she peeked out.

  It was as if he knew that she watched him, as he made a deliberate show of toweling off. He ran the white downy cloth leisurely across his wide tanned breast ... his strong arms ... his narrow waist ... his powerful thighs ... He stretched fluidly, extending out his sinews, and then he tossed the towel aside and sat down on a lounge chair, settling back and closing his eyes, soaking in the sun while he waited for her ...

  Skye nodded to herself. Two could play at that game ...

  Nicholas thought that he had the battle won—until he saw her approaching him. She wore the scarlet swimsuit he had bought for her, a pretty thing that further enhanced her curves. It covered her well—clinging to her breasts and bottom—but it had a diamond shape cut out in the center, revealing her flat waist. She was a tempting sight—especially for a man in his condition.

  She smiled at him, tossing back her head, her long red-gold hair. Her violet-blue eyes sparkled in her excitement.

  He cleared his throat. “You found me,” he uttered.

  “Got your message,” she said and moved for the pool.

  She dove in smoothly, swimming with easy movements the length of the pool. He was fascinated by her grace, her slender legs ... her magnificent bottom ... She did a turn and came back to him, stopping to tread the water and look up at him.

  “The water is so warm!” she said with a smile, and then she stretched out to float on her back, her red-gold tresses billowing out around her ... her breasts straining against the scarlet cloth with two alluring points. His hand longed to touch them, itched for their feel ... The sweat trickled from his brow, but he doubted that was due to the heat of the sun. She parted her lips and closed her eyes in her ecstasy, loving the water. He heard her contented sigh, a sound he knew well.

  He’d better get out of here ...

  He tore his gaze off her and rose from his chair. As he passed by her, he mumbled some excuse and retreated to the foyer.

  Within the foyer he stopped and turned, his gaze drawn back to her beauty. He tried to look away, but his eyes wouldn’t obey him. He shouldn’t have let Tolly Kay—one of his clothiers—put such a revealing swimsuit in Skye’s wardrobe package. But Tolly had thought that it was what an innocent girl of eighteen would want. He trusted her judgment, knowing her since his birth, and made her promise to keep this wardrobe their secret. He’d start with a week’s worth ... The old Arab woman had winked at him, knowingly.

  He realized that he was staring at Skye when she was stepping out of the pool. He decided that the swimsuit wasn’t all that revealing—but on her, it was. She took a fresh towel from the nearby rack, and began drying herself off ...

  Uh oh ... This girl was putting on a show ...

  First, she toweled off her face, gently dabbing at her high cheeks. Then, she slowly ran the white cloth down her slender arms, coming back to get at the swell of her breasts, taking away the glistening shimmer, leaving the soft ivory glow. His jaw dropped as she bent, giving him the intriguing sight of her fallen breasts that spilled out precariously from the scarlet suit, and she pulled her long hair down before her, rubbing at the sodden tresses, taking her leisure ...

  Nicholas stood there, in a daze. Now, why was it that he couldn’t go to her, again?

  She tossed back her head in a sudden impertinence, sending her damp hair flying back behind her.

  “Oh, yeah,” he reminded himself. They were in a war.

  Mesmerized, he watched while she paused and arched her back, stretching out like a lazy feline. She ran the towel across the diamond at her trim waist, soaking in the dampness. She started on her legs, spreading them slightly to get at the sparkling droplets ... working down from the curve of her hip into the area of a shapely thigh—

  “Ah, damn!” he rasped, and he went off to the bath.

  Skye saw his shadow leaving the foyer. When he didn’t return, she took her disappointment in stride and left the pool for her room.

  He was dressed and ready for his day when she saw him again, in the kitchen. He wore a casual dark-blue sleeveless shirt and white leggings to the knee, anticipating a lazy time. She had changed into a pale-green half-sleeved dress—one that had dark-green lace at the bodice, waist, and hemline—the frilliest of her selections. She saw the appreciation he had for her in his blue-green eyes, but they seemed to hold an accusation for her, as
well.

  “You hungry?” he asked huskily.

  She nodded, and they took their plates and coffee, and went out on the terrace to dine.

  The sky was blue and tranquil, but she sensed anger within his presence, putting a dark cloud over the table. She felt the heat coming to her cheeks, thinking of her brazen performance by the pool, knowing that he thought of that, also. But, she had only been doing what he had tried to do to her ...

  Nicholas was working on finding a way to take this sassy wench down a peg or two. He’d beat her at her own game ...

  When they finished with their breakfast, he asked, “How about a game of ‘Blades’?”

  “Blades?” she asked.

  He nodded. “It’s in the gaming hall.”

  “I’ve never played it,” she confessed.

  “I’ll teach you,” he said quietly.

  They rose, and she followed him to the challenge of the gaming hall.

  There in the long and wide sporting room, he moved to a panel, choosing one of the thin computer boxes that ran the entire length of the walls. He touched a few buttons and a holographic image appeared before them, a mesh of glowing green lines set together to make a box that was nigh twenty-five feet long and ten feet high on all four sides, making a virtual cage.

  He took two weapons that looked similar to an M-5—which was a long and sleek, silver laser gun—off from the panel. He passed through the green lines into the box, motioning for her to do the same. She passed through them and took the gun he handed out to her.

  “Okay,” he began, explaining the rules. “You stand back over there,“ he said, motioning at the far end of the cage. “And I’ll be here, at this end. The object is to take out your opponent before he can do it to you. There are shields here ...“ He fired the gun to make the invisible barrier light, and the thin and long blue stream from the gun was instantly caught in the barrier, and it all disappeared again. “You have a shield, and I have a shield. The trick is to drop the shields enough to get at the enemy.”

  She looked at him doubtfully, thinking of the viciousness of the game.