Still, she had a naive air about her, as if she didn’t quite know what she was doing to the men. She was bold but not brazen, like she had been born knowing the art of seduction but even now underestimated its power.
“Damn,” he muttered. He closed his eyes but couldn’t escape her seduction. His own imagination betrayed him, bringing forth a torrid scene ...
She danced for him privately, ardently shedding her risqué costume, her fair skin gleaming like polished fire in the red light. At last she was naked, revealing her soft womanhood, her dark-blue eyes glowing with the promise of the pleasure to come. She would slink near, enveloping him with her blue rose scent, a unique fragrance that tempted and mystified him. She’d slide her arms around him and press her breasts, full and round, tightly against him. He’d caress her silken golden triangle and she’d spread her thighs wide and meet him with eager rapture. He’d nudge her down and take her ...
Raine’s breath caught while an ache shot swiftly through his loins. A sweat broke out on his brow. He opened his eyes to free himself from the vivid fantasy, but he was helpless, consumed by the explicit sight.
The temptress weaved her arms up and took her headdress off. A collective gasp came as her hair tumbled down her back, shimmering like flame in the room’s rosy tint. She tilted her head back in utter abandon, loving the song, and all at once became like wildfire, whirling around and around, her long tresses spanning out in a glorious array. She decided to torture individuals then, passing near a few tables, giving a proper view of her charms. She reached out to one man and then sprang away, and the poor fool toppled out onto the floor. She gifted another with her touch, running her fingers through his hair ... caressing another on the breast ...
Raine straightened, alert ...
Sarra knew that it was now or never. The weapon lay on the next table, out in easy reach. She must be careful, for she would have only one chance—if she failed, they all would rape her! Lust was on every man’s face and a few even licked their lips hungrily, waiting to devour her. She didn’t look down as she moved before the M-5. She put her fingertip on the man’s prickly chin and urged him up to his feet. She would swap her dignity for her life and let him touch her breasts, and she’d bend and grab the gun. She took her victim’s hand and glided his knuckles across her cheek—
“Enough!”
Sarra whirled. The music quit on an off-note and the crowd rumbled in confusion. She froze as Nicks charged at her, as furious as an enraged lion. His hand clamped down on her wrist and he began pulling her across the floor, out of the auditorium.
The rebels, though angered by having their amusement taken away, thought twice about objecting. They all wondered about their leader’s rare outburst of temper but were wise enough to fear crossing him.
No one noticed the man who slipped out the exit. His gray eyes were hot with hatred, having witnessed the personality of the woman he so loathed. Now that he knew where the princess was being held, he could begin his revenge on King Ellis the Second. Disguised as a common Revolutionary, he would find the path that led to the Throne and become the ruler of Adriel. It was his birthright—and he would slay anyone who stood in his way ...
Sarra whimpered as Raine half-dragged, half-carried her to her quarters. Mercilessly, he pushed her down onto the bed. He stormed away, locking her alone in her cell.
“Damn you!” she screeched, slamming the pillows with her fists, her tears streaming.
“Damn you, Nicks! I’ll escape you yet!”
***
The glow of a flashlight suddenly lit the darkness of Sarra’s cell. Raine moved slowly to the foot of her bed, his green eyes narrowing upon her. He cursed softly, unable to deny his desire.
She was in the throes of an exhausted slumber, uncovered with one arm beneath the pillow and her cheek atop, her other arm lost in her golden hair that was all about her in splendid disarray. Her softly arched brows were knitted slightly in a frown, her tempting crimson lips parted delicately with her deep and even breathing. Evidence of her weeping streaked her face, her black lashes fanning out to touch her paleness. His mood became gentler ...
Imagining what was beyond her costume, he let his gaze roam down to the magnificent swell of her full breasts, to the curve of her hip. Her shapely thighs and calves shimmered, adorned in the scarlet haze, and he longed to touch—ached to feel the high arch of her foot and perfect toes. He became uneasy, physically stirred, her loveliness overpowering his resolve.
She, so real and natural when asleep, could make one forget that she planned to one day become a powerful and corrupt queen. The traces of her tears prompted him to move near, urged him to stroke away her despair. His hand shook slightly, reaching down—
He recoiled, scowling in his self-hatred.
He stalked away and didn’t look back.
***
Sarra woke, bewildered. She was being carried in the cradle of a man’s arms, her head against his breast. Confused to see Nicks’ face above her, she struggled against him, her drowsy attempts useless.
“What’s happening?” she cried. “Put me down!”
He ignored her, moving lithely with long strides. He carried her to a docking bay, into a spacecraft, where he dropped her down into a seat and quickly strapped her in. Wildly she glanced around, and behind her she saw Darius. He was thrusting a few travel bags into a storage compartment in the wall.
The Arab was nervous. “Good luck, my friend,” he said to Nicks.
After Nicks clapped him reassuringly on the back, Darius moved down the boarding ramp. “Take care, Princess Sarra!” he called.
Nicks came to jump into the pilot seat beside her. His deft fingertips worked the helm, and the engines began pulsating, powering up.
Sarra braced herself. “Where are—”
“Be quiet!” he commanded.
Suddenly the ship shot from the bay, traveling the runway for an instant and then lifting. Stunned by the force that thrust her back against her seat, she fought the gravity to look out the port beside her. Myrrh’s verdant ground was already becoming lost in the clouds.
She closed her eyes, praying while they ascended ...
Chapter 7
The stars shone like tiny splashes of crystals on the black, distant and brilliant. Although the spacecraft glided smoothly on its journey, Sarra was shaken by the turbulence within her. Myrrh was behind them, gone from sight. She wanted to scream but couldn’t make the sound pass through her lips.
Her gaze fleeted to Nicks who concentrated on working the helm. She winced, realizing that she had lost yet another chance to escape—she should have tried to get at the comm or monitor when he had asked the USFC for clearance. He had electronically put in his coordinates and Myrrh’s flight control gave him permission to proceed, this simple craft being no different than the thousands they directed every day. And now it had already left a popular traffic zone, traveling onward into emptier space.
Raine gave the helm over to automated control and freed himself from the belts. He rose and stood in the narrow aisle, stretching and yawning, smiling down on her. “Are you hungry?” he asked, politely.
Sarra could only show him her wide blue eyes.
He touched the button that released her belts and sauntered down the passageway, motioning for her to follow. Dazed, she rose and obeyed. When the bridge doors closed behind her, she turned to see him locking them, his finger setting the last numbers of a code into a square panel on the wall.
Her gaze roved the cabin; there was nowhere to run. This was a typical Class Common-D, a two-man cruise ship. It had a command bridge, a main cabin, a galley, a day-night nook and a bath, and a light cargo hold below. The sleek, triangular vessel was stingy with its space, allowing no place to hide.
He moved to the galley and opened a bin “We’ve a limited menu,” he said. “A CC-D ship is not quite up to a CE-A’s standards.”
He busied himself in the galley while Sarra stood there, in a stupor. The magnitude of the
situation kept striking her in waves. She was trapped ... alone with this man ...
He laid two trays down on the table in the nook, and came to place his hand on her back, guiding her over to there. She slid meekly onto the long bench, and he sat on the bench across from her. She saw the steaming plate of spicecakes and eggs before her, and she absently pushed the plate away, her belly being twisted in knots. She watched him while he took a bite.
“Where? Where are we heading?” she asked, dismayed that her voice portrayed her fear.
Raine didn’t look at her, also disturbed by the situation. He debated on whether or not to tell her about it ...
Someone on Darius’ estate had sent out a text transmission to King Erasmas, requesting to meet with him on an important matter; the rebel who monitored telecommunications, spying on King Ellis’ sojourning FAS that patrolled Myrrh’s orbit, had detected the message. Darius had been doubtful that any of his current clients would contact the Arab monarch. Trusting his instincts, he took action. Perhaps he was overreacting, or perhaps there was a dissident in the midst of his men. The return of the princess to Adriel would make her rescuer rich, and he couldn’t be certain now what was in every man’s heart. He mentally kicked himself for bringing her out for all of the others to see. What had possessed him?
Whether he was being overly cautious or not, there was no doubt that this had complicated his plans.
He decided that the less she knew, the safer for all concerned. “There’s been a change of plans,” he said.
“Why?”
“Let’s just say that you had best eat. The Kan Sector is nearly a week away.”
Even more distressed, Sarra rose and moved into the main cabin. A week—that would be an eternity! She’d never been to the Kan Sector and couldn’t imagine why he wanted to go there. She braved her voice. “Why are we going there?”
He only shrugged. He rose and sauntered over to the storage compartment and took out a travel bag, one put there by Darius. He began coming near. “These clothes are more suitable,” he said.
Alarmed by his nearness, she backed away.
“Princess,” he urged quietly. “You’d better change.”
His appreciating eyes reminded her that she wore the scarlet costume. Her quick glance down saw how the tips of her breasts were pointing against the satin. Her cheeks grew hot and she snatched the bag from his hand. She hurried into the bath and locked it.
She found a few dresses and their accompaniments in the bag. She chose the simple blue dress and took her time changing, trying to come to grips with her very dire predicament ...
Raine began to wonder if she would ever come out. When she finally did, he laid aside his computer tablet, the novel he was trying to distract himself with, and he sighed, relieved. The pale-blue dress was less tempting to his eye, but only by a bit, for the knee-length linen clung gently to her full breasts, her slim waist and hips. She had her long hair back at her nape, deterring his hand from touching a golden tress, but he still longed to test the sparkling coil.
As her beautiful dark-blue eyes turned his way, he put his indifference on his face. He rose and took his travel bag off the lounge, and moved toward her. She skittered out of his way.
“You can entertain yourself at the console—a book or a game,” he invited, and went off to shower.
When alone at last, Sarra checked the bridge doors; they were indeed, locked. She had to find a way in so that she could send out a message to her father and set course for Adriel. How? The code was in Nicks’ head. She certainly couldn’t overpower him with her bare hands.
She searched through the consoles, looking for any computerized device that might send out a message, and was surprised to find an M-5. It was without a power stem but she found that, too—he tried to hide it in a game’s casing! Triumphant, she opened the gun’s top, snapped the small and thin cylinder into place, and closed it. She moved toward the bath’s door, standing well away from it, with her legs apart and her bare feet planted. With her arms straight out and level, she gripped the weapon tightly, relishing the feeling of power. But, as time went on, her smugness began to fade, her nerves growing ...
The door opened and Raine appeared, wearing a long-sleeved white satin shirt and black leggings, clearly feeling refreshed after his bath. He stopped short, seeing the M-5 aimed at his breast. He placed his hands on his narrow hips and raised a golden brow.
“You—move to the bridge!” Sarra demanded.
“Why?” he asked, as if only a bit curious.
“I’m going home!” she quipped. “Move!”
She carefully backed away, keeping the threat on him as he began coming near. But, he didn’t go to the bridge. Instead, he sat down on the lounge. He cupped his hands behind his head and weighed her with his eyes.
Frustrated, Sarra’s hands began to tremble. “Open those doors!” she commanded.
He shook his head, stubbornly.
“Do you want me to stun you?” she warned.
“I can’t see how that would help you. In fact, afterward it might just make me angry.”
Vengefully, with her finger she flipped the switch on the front side of the gun’s trigger casing, and the small round light changed from green to red. She held the gun flat out on her right palm, her thumb beneath the protective casing, on the trigger—and twitching. “Now it is set to kill,” she taunted. “Do it!”
He simply crossed his arms.
“I found the power stem—do you see the red light?”
“Yes, I do,” he replied, but he didn’t seem too concerned.
“What is wrong with you?” she cried. “Aren’t you smart enough to fear for your life? Do as I say or you will die!”
He shook his head. “No.”
Sarra clenched and unclenched her teeth. This wasn’t going at all like she had planned. He should be cowering down, but he was as cool and undaunted as ever.
Her eyes narrowed upon him until they became like blue slits. She had longed for this since the first assassination attempt on Adriel—the Revolutionary leader was before her and she had the means to kill him. He deserved to die! He was a savage man who inflicted misery on others. And he had been so bold to abduct her, thus endangering her father’s health. Her hands shook and her temptation grew. He just sat there, looking so splendid and handsome with his sparkling green eyes. He was waiting, contemplating on whether or not she had the courage to press the trigger. She nearly pressed down on it when he had the audacity to yawn.
Something within her took the weight from her thumb. Perhaps it was fear, for even if she did make it into the bridge she had never piloted a ship alone. And if she killed him, she may never find the numbers of the code. If she stunned him, when he woke he’d punish her. But perhaps the reason came from her core—she wasn’t a cold-blooded murderess!
With a strangled cry, she surrendered. She flung the M-5 at him and he ducked in the nick of time. She stormed about, and he rose, retrieving the gun.
“So the trigger wasn’t pressed,” he muttered, to himself.
She dove onto the lounge and slammed the cushion with her fists.
He chuckled. “No matter.”
She looked behind her to see him take the power stem out of the gun. He took a tiny cylinder out from his breast pocket, opened the power stem, put the cylinder within it, and snapped them back into place. Now that the M-5 truly had the means for destruction, he went about locking it in the vault in the wall by the galley, blocking her view with his back.
No wonder he had been so brave! “You be damned!” she gritted out.
He laughed heartily, taking the seat beside the lounge. She was instantly on her feet. He took up his computer tablet, and began reading like nothing had ever happened.
Her eyes flashing, she stormed to the nook and flounced down on the bench. She buried her face in her palms and whispered the foulest of curses, ones that had never before come off her tongue.
Sarra had a spectacular view of space, having
a rectangular window beside her, but the beauty beyond did little to ease her plight. The galactic panorama stretched out endlessly, alive with millions of distant suns, the nebulous dust hazy upon the inky black. To her it seemed like the stars scarcely moved, though the spacecraft traveled at lightning speed. She thought about the ancient glimmer, hoping to find some insight, some way to make some sense out of all of this ...
A while later, Nicks came to the nook with two trays. She rose immediately and went to the lounge where she sat fidgeting while he dined. After he finished, with a sigh he dropped her untouched plate down the galley’s disposal. He sauntered into the cabin and she stalked back to the nook. Again, she restlessly watched the port—her only comfort in this nightmare.
When he brought the evening meal, she rose testily. She flinched as he caught her arm.
“Does the princess plan to starve herself?”
She glared at his coldly curious eyes and shoved his hand off of her.
He shrugged. “As you wish.”
Although her empty belly growled viciously, she hid in the bath until the nook was, once again, hers.
As the dreaded moment loomed near, Sarra’s apprehension grew. When he dimmed the lights, she was up and out of the nook. She couldn’t meet his eyes, anxious about the sleeping arrangements. He seemed to ponder the situation, also ...
He touched a panel on the wall and the nook’s table began moving downward, lowering until it became level with the benches. The two walls, the backrests of the benches, began moving inward, coming together and stopping when meeting in the center of the nook. There was now a view of space on all three sides; two rectangular ports were now where the backrests had been. The nook was now one vast, downy bed.
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