Nuworld: Claiming Tara

by Fitzgerald, Laurie

  “Maybe those Runners are wondering the same thing.” Darius immediately dismissed that possibility. They wouldn’t send one young lady into Gothman, where he most definitely had the most deadly warriors in all of Nuworld, if they wanted answers about his people.

  Darius knew next to nothing about their race. And he didn’t like not having all the facts. He pushed away from the table and maps. It was now his top priority to learn about these people.

  He would learn how to operate that strange bike he had housed in his shed as well. He would learn what Runners had done to Gothman to earn such harsh laws implemented against them. And above all his other questions, he would learn why one incredibly beautiful Runner had entered Gothman without an escort…

  …and what that Runner was doing in his house.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  TARA WAS thoroughly exhausted when she left the

  house where the quilting session had been held. Reena had arranged for her to care for at least fifteen children. Tara had never obtained an accurate count of the kids running around the backyard, for she had spent the entire morning changing diapers, nursing scratches and pulling children out of trees when they cried for help. Although fun at first, after several hours she had been ready for Reena to rescue her.

  It was hard to conceal her relief when Reena finally came out the back door of the house with several other women and announced they were through with yet another quilt.

  “Help me load everything, my girl,” Reena said, as she dumped the contents from her arms into Tara’s. “What is all of this?” Tara adjusted the folded piles of material, trying not to drop anything as she followed Reena to the groundmobile.

  Reena laughed and glanced over her shoulder as several of the women gathered children in the yard. She leaned in to Tara when she spoke again.

  “It’s the makings for the next quilt. I’m thinking anyone could see that.” Reena didn’t speak loud enough for anyone else to hear, and Tara got her point.

  A typical Gothman woman would grow up in this domestic life. Tara fought not to feel sorry for their suppressed existence. Oddly enough, these women didn’t look unhappy. Maybe it was because they didn’t know what they were missing. It dawned on Tara that most likely was why the leaders of Gothman had made a point to not allow outsiders in, or why their people never travelled beyond Gothman borders. If these women knew how much different their lives might be, certainly they’d never be happy living like this any longer.

  Tara managed to put all the materials in the back of the groundmobile in a somewhat orderly fashion. She watched Reena mingle with the other women, who now were chattering outside the white stone house. It was so permanent the walls of the house actually disappeared into the rocky ground it was built on. From what Tara heard, their conversation wasn’t about anything important. They discussed what someone had worn the other day, and a pregnancy that didn’t appear to be normal. Tara knew she should listen and learn the ways of these women. After all, that is what a Runner did when entering a new community. But her thoughts continually strayed.

  The image of a tall, powerful-looking lord kept distracting her thoughts. Although she knew the Gothman lord maintained a society where all women were docile and simple, a woman like that would be boring. She’d offer him more excitement than any of these women ever would. Maybe like these women, Lord Darius simply didn’t know what he was missing.

  “Are you about ready?” Tara snapped out of her thoughts, and chastised herself for the direction her thoughts were heading.

  “Our next stop is the Bryton home,” Reena announced cheerfully.

  The woman around them began whispering and studied Tara.

  When Tara had agreed to stay at the Bryon home, Reena had decided it was imperative that she teach Tara more about being Gothman. Tara wasn’t sure if it was because she’d told Reena about attacking the guard or because Reena liked the company. Tara doubted it had anything to do with Reena worrying about Tara’s life being in danger under Lord Darius’ roof.

  She looked down when she climbed into the groundmobile. This time she wasn’t trying to appear submissive. Tara heard the women whispering loudly. Her cheeks flamed. Tara tried hiding her embarrassment at the realization that she would soon be all the Gothman women talked about.

  “You aren’t having second thoughts now, are you?” Reena asked once she sat in the groundmobile next to Tara. “We agreed to take you after the quilting was over.”

  Tara noticed worry in the older lady’s tone. “No, of course not.” Tara tried to reassure Reena with a smile. “We talked about this last night. Moving into the Bryton home and helping Hilda with the housework will be an ideal way to learn more about Gothman.”

  “Not to mention you will see much of Lord Darius,” Reena added, giving Tara a side look as she started the groundmobile.

  “True.” Tara wouldn’t deny an attraction to the man. But there was a lot about him she didn’t like. “He has my bike, Reena. I need to keep an eye on him.”

  The two guards on duty in front of the Lord’s house didn’t pay any attention to Tara and Reena this time as they parked and ascended the open room stairs. Hilda greeted the two of them with open arms and laughter.

  “Reena, you are too good to an old woman to share such a fine young lady with me.” There were tears in Hilda’s eyes. “You’ll be treated quite fine, Tara. Don’t worry. Do come inside, both of you. Reena, come see Tara’s room. It’s ready for her.”

  Hilda and Reena entered the house. Tara followed them carrying the cloth bag Reena had given her, with her Runner outfit under all her new Gothman dresses. Her laser was in the bag, too. She had decided not to wear it while watching all the children. Now in Lord Darius’ home, she felt exceptionally naked without it. They climbed the wide staircase and walked to the end of the hallway where Hilda inserted a key into a door.

  “This is my wing of the house.” Hilda led the two women through the door. She pointed to a closed door. “This is my room. You’ll be next to me. As safe as can be. Don’t you think, Reena?”

  Tara was amused about their concern with her safety. Hilda seemed to be emphasizing this to Reena as there was a problem. She smiled to herself at the thought of two old women worrying about her well-being. She had a bit of trepidation over agreeing to live in Lord Darius’ home, but for very different reasons than Reena and Hilda.

  Hilda opened the farthest door at the end of the hallway. It was a beautifully arranged bedroom. The carpet was as thick as the carpet in the living room. A single bed had several comforters spread over the top, and a knitted blanket was folded at its foot. A bureau and dresser were on one wall and a small couch against the other. Two glass doors led to a balcony that looked over the backyard and provided an excellent view of the rocky hills spreading for miles beyond the yard. The room was glorious. But for all its fancy furniture and niceties, Tara liked the fact that part of it opened to the outside the best.

  “You consider this your home,” Hilda said. “Arrange the room as you please. You unpack your bag, and I’ll see Reena to the door. Come down when you’re ready, and I’ll show you what chores you’ll be doing. It’s a true pleasure to have you here, child. I just know you’ll be happy.”

  “She’ll bring life back to this house if she does anything, that much is certain.” Hilda told Reena when they started down the hallway.

  “I know she was only with me a quarter-cycle, but I’m going to miss her.” Reena replied.

  “You’re the one that brought her into town and went all about showing her off. You knew you’d lose her by doing that.” It was the last Tara heard as the door at the end of the hallway closed.

  Tara set down her bag on the bed and looked around the room once again. She walked to the glass doors, opened them, and stepped onto the balcony.

  Patha, guess where I am now. Here she was, a Runner, inside the home of the Lord of Gothman. She smiled, rather satisfied with her Age Of Searching.

  Gothman were actually toler
able people. Both genders needed a lesson in equality, though. Gothman women needed to stand up to their men. If the women here had a clue about how their lives might be, they would give up this submissive lifestyle in a second.

  What kind of thinking was this? She wasn’t here to change this culture, just observe it, right? It would be wrong to allow some type of attachment or loyalty to these people. No Runner ever did that on their Age Of Searching.

  Maybe it was time to leave. It wouldn’t be hard to get her motorcycle now. She’d seen the men move it out of the shed and put it out in the backyard, unattended and unguarded. Maybe if she sneaked out after dark. She would be out of Gothman territory within no time.

  Tara mulled this over as she stared at the beautiful hills rolling farther than the eye could see. The rocks jutting up from the earth added to the glory of the view.

  Far in the distance, someone raced over the hills on a motorcycle. The rider dodged rocks that sprang up from the earth with a skill equal to her own. The rider was familiar with the terrain. She imagined the thrill of the ride.

  Tara wanted to be on her bike and take the same path. She wasn’t familiar with the terrain, yet it called out to accept its challenge. Her hands itched with the temptation, and she rubbed them on the soft material of her dress. But for now, she was expected downstairs. Tara turned from the tantalizing scene. At least until nightfall she would continue with her role. Then she’d make a decision about staying or leaving.

  The bureau held ample space for the dresses Reena had given her. The older woman had spent a great deal of time over the past quarter-cycle creating this wardrobe. Tara gazed at her Runner clothing at the bottom of her bag. The black leather looked so appealing compared to the Gothman dresses. If anyone found her Runner clothing, however, it would mean her death. Leaving them at Reena’s would endanger the woman’s life. Too many people moved through that house for Tara’s liking.

  Tara stroked the silky headscarf and fingered the bright red symbol of her clan. She wrapped her Runner clothing around the landlink from her bike. Tara searched for an appropriate hiding place when she heard voices coming up the stairs. She stuffed her Runner clothes and landlink back into her bag and shoved it under the bed.

  Hilda and the young boy Tara had met in the alley were climbing the stairs when Tara reached them.

  “So, you’re coming to live with me now?” The boy grinned from ear to ear. “Do you want to see my room?”

  “Ah, all in good time, my child.” Hilda patted the boy on the head. “Tara, have you met Torgo?”

  “Only for a moment.” Tara almost caught herself clasping her hands behind her back, the pose of a warrior. Instead, she relaxed her features and stared at innocent gray eyes. “We’ve not been properly introduced, though.”

  “Well, this is my youngest son, Torgo. He is quite the handful.” She hugged the boy and ruffled his hair. “Go play, child. Tara and I have work to do now.”

  “Will you spend time with me later?” Torgo asked Tara.

  “I look forward to it.” Tara winked at the boy and his face lit up before he took off running down the hallway.

  “It’s too bad for the boy. He has no papa to teach him how to be a man. His mama might as well be his grandmama, and Darius is so busy he’s no time for him, that’s for certain.” Hilda walked down the stairs with Tara. “He’s a good boy, high-spirited like they all were at that age.”

  “Maybe I could spend some time with him,” Tara offered.

  “Ah, that would be nice. It’s the training of a man he needs though.” Hilda led Tara to the kitchen and opened up a back pantry. “Well now, here are all the supplies. You’ll be cleaning the house for now. Over time, I’ll teach you how to prepare Lord Darius’ favorite dishes. Until then, I’ll keep doing the cooking. I like to cook.” She laughed and patted her stomach. “I like to eat my cooking too. It wouldn’t hurt you to eat my cooking either.” She laughed again, then turned as the back door opened.

  Lord Darius entered the room, his hair wind-blown. Had he been the rider in the hills?

  “Good. Your help has arrived.” Darius studied the young woman standing in his kitchen.

  The light material of her dress made it easy for him to see how toned her body was. This woman hadn’t birthed a child. She sure didn’t look like she spent a lot of time sitting and chatting the day away like so many other Gothman women either. She was fit and trim, her breasts perky, and her body toned. She wasn’t soft and round like so many Gothman girls her age. Although a bit on the thin side, every inch of her appealed to him. He imagined her full of energy, a bit on the defiant side, and possibly even bordering on insubordinate. Darius never considered those attributes in a woman before. But this woman, who was sizing him up as he did the same to her, might be a nice diversion to the overly submissive ladies he’d been presented with so far.

  He noticed the intelligence in blue eyes fighting not to return his stare. She might even be able to hold a conversation. From the spark in those sapphire eyes—that dared him to end his mental evaluation—he imagined she might even be somewhat of a challenge.

  That thought damn near made his blood boil. The last thing he needed was to get hard while standing in his mama’s kitchen. Darius tried focusing on Tara’s faults.

  Whoever had taught her how to be a lady had failed. She didn’t appear shy or humble in his presence, like every other lass he’d known since boyhood. Unfortunately, he found her demeanor refreshing. Darius smiled, and decided an untrained woman might prove a welcome distraction.

  For the first time, Tara saw a genuine smile light up Darius’ face. It transformed his already distracting good looks. Darius was incredibly sexy. Her insides melted from her toes upward, and a recognizable warmth started between her legs and spread too fast to stop. With the sudden onslaught of awakening desires, it seemed the very air around her sparked with lustful currents that spiked the tiny hairs on her skin to attention. She licked her lips and met his gaze.

  “Reena just brought Tara to me,” Hilda was saying and shut the pantry door, then faced her son. “And where have you been? Traipsing around the countryside alone again, I see.”

  “The hills called out to me. And, I needed to rest my brain.” He glanced from his mama to Tara. “Have you ever been on a motorcycle, Tara, niece of Reena?”

  His direct question took Tara by surprise. The wrong answer might give her away. Gothman women didn’t ride motorcycles. So why would he ask? The fact that she’d been on a motorcycle for as long as she could remember, probably longer if she knew Patha, didn’t matter. To admit that would raise suspicion. There was no way he should be suspicious right now. Although, his question suggested he might have doubts about who she really was. Tara started to smile while working up a satisfactory denial to redirect what he might think of her.

  Hilda spoke first. “For Gothman’s sake, Darius. Of course she hasn’t been on a motorcycle before. Look at her. She wouldn’t know the first thing.”

  Darius didn’t have to look. He’d already memorized her face, her figure, and the rest of her, even though the parts he ached to see the most were tantalizingly beneath her loose fitting dress. Tara was unlike any woman he’d ever seen. He was a trained warrior, the leader of all Gothman, skilled at controlling his feelings, his emotions. What he saw before him was a challenge. Tara hadn’t answered when he asked if she’d been on a motorcycle. Instead those sapphire eyes had looked amused. This had to be the Runner he allowed to escape in the forest—he felt it in his gut—and would prove it with time.

  “I’m looking at her.” Darius said, giving Tara his full attention. He decided it was time to start proving his theory as to who this woman really was. “Come with me, lass. I’ll take you for a ride on a motorcycle.”

  “Darius!” Hilda protested. “I would think…we were just starting—”

  “Ah, your housework can wait.” Darius grabbed Tara’s arm and turned to the door leading outside.

  Tara almost yanked free whe
n Darius grabbed her arm. Winters of training made it instinctive to defend against such a touch. Her body tightened before she thought. She made the effort to relax. Taking a deep breath, she didn’t pull away. When he opened the door he glanced at her. Powerful gray eyes devoured her, and she didn’t look away.

  Tara worried she heightened suspicion by almost pulling free when the lord took her arm. As she met his gaze, however, identity wasn’t what was going through the lord’s thoughts at all. Instead, Tara saw unbridled passion. She stepped through the door and gulped in fresh air. She would definitely need to keep a clear head.

  It also helped when Lord Darius let go of her arm. She walked alongside him but gave herself space, which allowed a better view of the man and his actions. He was tall, very tall, with large, solid muscles through the shoulders. His golden hair hung in curls well past his ears. But it was those intense gray eyes that sealed the package. Darius was probably a formidable warrior to rule Gothman. He was also a sexual predator who would likely welcome a fight before fucking her. Knowledge she’d be smart to keep in mind.

  “I’ve something to show you.” Darius walked in the direction of his bike, which was parked next to the shed. The shed that harbored her bike!

  Tara ached to throw open the doors and make sure her motorcycle was alright. Instead, she appraised his motorcycle. It was much larger than her bike, and was of Gothman style with its long narrow seat that came up in the back. It wasn’t designed for speed. Instead it was large and sturdy—designed to handle the rough terrain it travelled each day.

  It was hard to stay calm and not rush forward, when Darius walked around his bike and opened the shed door.

  “Look at this, if you will, my lady.” He walked into the shed and pointed. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”

  “Both are very nice. Are they yours?” Tara was incredibly relieved to see the shed wasn’t locked. Nor did the door squeak when he opened it.