Commanded to Yield

by Jennifer Leeland

  Matthew grinned. “You know you like it.”

  “You’ll share with me again, though, won’t you?” Mistress T locked her gaze with Fallon’s.

  “If Fallon wishes it.”

  Why did Fallon get the impression some deal had been made she knew nothing about? “Wait a minute,” she said and pulled away from Mistress T. “What are you two talking about?”

  “Ah, sweet girl,” Mistress T breathed out the words like a sigh. “You are like a new canvas.”

  Okay, Fallon was starting to get pissed. “Clarify?” She glanced at Matthew who was now clothed and back to being intimidating.

  “She’s talking about when you’re mine.” Matthew crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows.

  “Are you trying to be funny?” she snapped.

  He stepped closer, and she struggled to keep her feet planted. His voice was low and vibrated through every nerve. “I’m dead serious.”

  “You’re insane.” She glared at him.

  Mistress T laughed. “Yes, he is. For more reason than one. Does she know what her father did to you?”

  A cold fist gripped Fallon’s heart. Was that what this was about? Some twisted form of revenge?

  Matthew’s face hardened. “No. This has nothing to do with that.” He stared at Mistress T. “Did you think about what he did to your parents? Or did you just enjoy her?”

  “I’m standing right here. Can you discuss this with me?” she said through gritted teeth.

  “As usual, you’re right, Matt.” Mistress T stood beside Matthew and gazed at her. Both of them staring at her made her shake inside. “So, the ball is in your court, Fallon Denny. Have you come here to destroy us? Or have you come to be one of us?”

  “I’ve come to negotiate a trade agreement.”

  Suddenly, Mistress T seemed to grow taller. “I hope you don’t think we’ve fallen for that.” Her gaze bored into Fallon’s. Then, her face softened. “Poor thing. You have no idea, do you?”

  She shot a glance at Matthew. “Good luck, honey. You’ll need it.”

  She strode away, her dark hair swaying with her movements. The room was quiet after she closed the door after her, and Fallon didn’t know what to say.

  Finally, she announced, “I’d like to go to my room, if I have your permission.” Yes, she was being sarcastic, but she’d had enough. She’d just had some of the most amazing sex of her life, discovered she wanted to be on her knees for a man, and kissed by a woman. To say she was a little shaken was an understatement.

  Matthew didn’t speak but waved his hand for her to go ahead of him. All the way through the club, down the wide lane, through the twisted corridor of the Causeway, he didn’t say a word. Three or four times, she opened her mouth to break the uncomfortable silence but lost her courage.

  They reached her door, and she held out her hand. “Thank you for an … interesting evening.”

  For a moment, she thought he’d just turn and walk away. Instead, he grabbed her hand and yanked her against his chest. “You’re … quite welcome.” And his mouth devoured hers. She couldn’t breathe as one hand twisted in her hair and the other clamped around her arm.

  She didn’t fight and didn’t try to stop him. Her body sagged and went limp against him. God, she couldn’t help it. He just did something to her. His kiss punished her, hard and painful. She’d have a bruise on her arm where he gripped her. The thought made her knees weak.

  He released her abruptly. For a moment, their harsh breaths were the only sounds. His dark gaze held hers as she leaned against her door for support. “You remember that when you want to tell me you’re only here to negotiate a trade agreement,” he said, his voice hard and tight.

  Her breath stopped, but he turned his back and strode down the corridor. She let her breath out slowly. She fumbled for her door controls, her fingers shaking. When she stumbled into her room, she fell to her knees beside her bed, hot tears sliding down her cheeks.

  How could you allow this to happen? You can’t fail. You cannot fail.

  Chapter Seven

  The council was going to drive him crazy. Matthew gazed at the other nine members. Adonis Pasquel, the man in charge, sat back, his fingers steepled in front of his mouth. Elise Pasquel’s nostrils were flared, a sure sign of high emotion. His mother kept her gaze on Matthew’s face. Was she looking at him for a cue? No, Jenia Carstairs had her own thoughts about all this. Grover Adelaide studied the vid pad in front of him. His interests lay with the export of Truffula trees and nothing else. Politics were a means to an end for him.

  Sashina Matins leaned back in her seat, a smile on her perfect lips and her gaze on the ceiling. The woman’s copper-colored hair had streaks of gray, but her green eyes were brilliant and bright. Age hadn’t diminished her power in the least. Her long time lover, Troy Lider, sat beside her, his slender fingers drumming rhythmically on the council table.

  Michael Tarune’s lips were tightened, and one hand was clenched in a fist. The Tarune family had lost so much to Earth Central that this topic wasn’t one he liked to discuss. Michael was no different than his father. A man of action, General Jake Tarune had beat back threats to Asberek until a suicide bomber killed him and his wife, Daniella. Michael had been twelve. Trista had been ten.

  Arina Sarchai, Gerald Forrest, Edward Darby and Malachi Swartz were all original colonists and would follow Pasquel’s lead. Michael and Matthew were the only council members from the new generation.

  “We’ve discussed this ad nauseum,” Arina said. “We don’t have the military resources to defy Earth Central.”

  Pasquel nodded and glanced at Matthew. “Our position is worse than you think.”

  Matthew gritted his teeth. What was coming next wasn’t going to be pleasant. Sure enough, his mother Jenia leaned forward, a wrinkle on her brow. “Paul intercepted a hidden inscription in a message sent to Ms. Denny.”

  Shit. That’s why his mother seemed concerned. Trust her to know Matthew was attracted to the diplomat. He tried to focus on the words being said instead of the way Fallon Denny had screamed as she released her sweet self to him and Trista.

  “And?” Pasquel snapped.

  “Her father is demanding complete concession on our part. There’s not going to be negotiation. Earth Central plans to use military force.” Jenia met Matthew gaze and held it. “He instructs her to use the weapon he gave her.”

  “That’s the exact word he used?” Matthew asked sharply.

  “Yes. Weapon,” Jenia replied.

  “She was searched thoroughly?” Pasquel asked.

  “Yes.” Matthew wondered what “weapon” Fallon’s father had given her. “It has to be a political weapon.”

  “But what?” Gerald said. The older man was a stout farmer who served on the council as a representative for the miners and other working colonists.

  “Something to force our capitulation,” Sashina said, her eyes narrowed on the ceiling. “The target has been Donny in the past. I think that’s still the case.”

  “Something that threatens Donny politically? But what?” Elise said.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Michael said harshly. “The fact is that Earth Central has no intention of resolving our differences peacefully. They plan to use force.”

  No one could dispute him. Matthew glanced at Michael’s dark face. Black hair cut military style, brown eyes so dark they were almost black and a strong jaw, he resembled his father more than his mother. Michael had also trained on Earth, but Matt got the impression it hadn’t been an easy adjustment for him. Where Matt had maintained absolute control over his emotions, Michael had been more explosive.

  “Options?” Pasquel asked.

  “You know what they are,” Jenia answered. “We must form an alliance with either the Ang or the Dormrela.”

  Silence greeted this. Matt was more open to this than the rest of the council. Thirty years hadn’t diminished the bitterness the Ang and Dormrela created among Asberekians. Manipulated by both alien cultu
res, Asberekians usually distrusted both of them. He glanced at each council member. “Earth Central is counting on our reluctance to come to a diplomatic agreement with the Ang or the Dormrela. They always have.”

  Several members nodded. Swartz spoke up. “I will contact the Dormrelian ambassador. He and I have had several conversations.”

  “I will speak to the Ang ambassadors,” Elise said. “But I think they will refuse to help us.”

  “They have in the past,” Michael said bitterly.

  “The Ang are still reeling from the war they lost,” Pasquel said.

  “If the Ang stole our children, we would have fought them too,” Swartz snapped.

  “I know it,” Pasquel said gently. “The Dormrela had good reason to fight them, Malachi. That’s why we refused to help the Ang with our resources, as limited as they are. But the fact is that the Ang face cultural extinction, and they’re still coming to grips with it.”

  “The war has been over for fifteen years,” Arina said. “And the Dormrela have helped them to survive.”

  “Let’s hope we can negotiate an agreement with one of them,” Sashina said. “Because I don’t think Earth Central is going to wait.”

  “Meanwhile, we must divert Ms. Denny,” Pasquel drawled and stared at Matt.

  Right. Divert the diplomat. Matt sighed. “Fine. I’ll keep her in pointless negotiations.” He glared at Pasquel. “She’s not stupid. The quicker we get some help the better.”

  “Let her play her cards,” Pasquel told him. “Whatever weapon she has, we should know what it is.”

  “I’m no spy,” Matt snapped.

  “Get her to trust you,” Pasquel said. As if it was no big deal, no problem.

  Matt tightened his lips. “And then what? Destroy her? No thanks.”

  Pasquel held Matt’s gaze. “For Asberek, Matt. Convince her if you can, but the colony comes first. She’s come here to force our capitulation. Keep that in mind.”

  Matt sighed. Damn it. He knew Pasquel was right. “Alright.”

  “Earth Central may find it has bitten off more than it can chew,” Pasquel announced.

  A feeling of unease spread through Matt. His instinct warned him there was more going on here than just a big planetary government dealing with a colonial rebellion.

  The council meeting ended, and Pasquel approached him. “Matt, I need you to do me a favor.”

  What now? Pasquel lowered his voice. “I’ve got a private meeting set up with Ms. Denny for this afternoon.” His blue eyes were dark, troubled. “Whatever weapon she has, I think she plans to use it.”

  “You’re worried?”

  Pasquel shook his head. “Not for myself.”

  “For her.”

  “I know her father. He’d set her up in a heartbeat.” Pasquel shook his head. “The only thing the man cares about is power.”

  “You think she’s a pawn in this?”

  “Don’t you?” Pasquel raised his eyebrows. “You’ve got good instincts. I can’t see you sleeping with someone who is a threat to Asberek.”

  Matthew sighed. “I don’t know that my instincts aren’t off here.”

  Pasquel smiled. “I trust your instincts. That’s why I want you to observe this meeting. I have a feeling I know what she’s going to try.”

  “Oh?”

  The man snorted. “Earth Central plans a spot of blackmail.”

  Matthew raised one eyebrow. “You know this how?”

  “Several Earth Classified files were accessed six months ago, files about the murders I committed.” Pasquel’s lips tightened. “E.C. buried those actions so they could reinstate me in the Tribunal thirty years ago, but now—”

  “Now they think they can use the murders as leverage.” Matthew stared at Pasquel. “Those killings are common knowledge here.”

  Pasquel nodded. “But Earth Central wouldn’t know that. It was classified on Earth. How could they know that I would inform the colony of my past?”

  Matt nodded. “They believe the colony will oust you if we find out you were a killer.”

  “I think so. I could be wrong, but those murders were vicious and ugly.” Pasquel’s nostrils flared. “I’m ashamed of those killings, and I made my peace with the families. The fact that I was under the influence of alien DNA doesn’t make it an easier burden to carry.”

  “That’s some pretty ugly mud slinging.” Matt bit his lip. Blackmail. Not nice at all. So, Fallon Denny was going to play hardball.

  Well, if Pasquel was right, she was going to swing and miss. It would be interesting to see how she handled it.

  No, he wouldn’t miss that meeting for the world. “I’ll be there.”

  Chapter Eight

  How did one dress to blackmail a planetary leader? Fallon sighed and gazed at her image in the mirror. She’d chosen a loose white blouse and black silky pants, going for comfort rather than formality.

  She twisted the data card between her fingers. Doubts crowded in. Her father had been so sure that this would work, that Adonis Pasquel, and consequently Asberek, would cave into Earth Central’s demands.

  Yet, her experiences with Matthew Lestrano and Trista Tarune had implied her father might be mistaken. Part of her wanted to erase the data file and just negotiate a treaty.

  She shook her head. She was letting the place get to her.

  Her com buzzed. She answered it and found Matthew’s face on the vid screen. “You have a call from your father.”

  Fallon couldn’t allow surprise to show. Why was her father calling her now? “Wonderful,” she said. “Please put it through.”

  “My pleasure.” Matthew’s deep voice rumbled over the speakers, and she shivered. Even through the mechanics of a com, his sexy tone disturbed her.

  A few moments passed, and an encrypted video covered the screen. Scrambled, she had to input codes to view her father’s call. Her fingers flew over the keyboard and her father’s strong features appeared on screen.

  “Fallon, my dear,” her father said for a greeting.

  “Father,” she said. The ball was in his court. Why was he contacting her? The plan was in place. Did he want to rethink the blackmail?

  “You see him today?” Her father asked the question, but she got the feeling he already knew the answer.

  “In half-an-hour,” she acknowledged.

  “What do you think of Asberek?” He said it in a mild tone, but Fallon was instantly tense. It seemed like an innocuous inquiry, but Harbold Denny didn’t ask frivolous questions.

  “It’s quite beautiful here,” she said and held his gaze. Through the screen, the force of her father’s will could be felt.

  “Don’t be fooled,” he snapped. “Asberek is teaming with traitors.”

  Traitors. That was the word her father had used to depict the Mars colonists. And she saw firsthand how Earth Central dealt with that. “I won’t let my guard down, Father.”

  “Fraternization is dangerous,” her father said in a low tone.

  She narrowed her eyes. Clearly, one of her men had talked. “I see. I’m afraid you’ve been … misinformed. I was rescued by Matthew Lestrano from the effects of S.E.X. Apparently, the inoculation had worn off.”

  Her father raised one eyebrow. “How convenient.”

  Fallon clenched her fists in her lap, out of the visual range of the com. “Not particularly. It was more embarrassing than anything else.”

  “I’m sure,” he father said tonelessly.

  Her nostrils flared. Judgment from her father was nothing new. “If the orders are the same, why are you contacting me? To warn me against getting involved with Matthew Lestrano?” she said baldly.

  Her father’s right eye twitched. Good. She’d pissed him off. He kept his voice level, however. “Matthew Lestrano is dangerous.”

  “So you’ve said. Anything else?” It irritated her. She got the idea he didn’t think she could do the job. Why the hell had he asked her to come here if he didn’t trust her?

  “Stay away fr
om Trista Tarune,” her father said flatly.

  That was it. A spy. Her father had set one of his men on her. She tightened her lips. “Anything else?” she snapped.

  “No,” her father said and suddenly seemed unsure. “Fallon—”

  “Thank you for the call, Father. I’ll notify you of the results of my meeting with Mr. Pasquel.” And she clicked off.

  Why had she believed her father trusted her to do this job? Because he’d trusted her on Mars? But he hadn’t trusted her on that colony. Of course, if it hadn’t been for her hard negotiations, thousands more colonists would have died that day. She never forgot that Earth Central had already planned their attack before she’d been sent to Mars.

  Nothing had changed.

  Simon Boular and Todd Aster arrived a few minutes later, and Fallon had pulled herself together.

  Todd held up an air syringe. “Inoculation.”

  Thank the stars. Fallon rolled up her sleeve. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with the drug, S.E.X, in her system. Todd pressed the syringe to her arm, and she felt the cold blast of medicine go into her bloodstream.

  “Thank you,” she said to Todd. He said nothing and placed the syringe in a small, black bag.

  Simon gazed at her, concern in his eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this alone?”

  “Absolutely. After all, Mr. Pasquel has agreed to meet me without his body guards. I can do no less.” She glanced at Todd. The man’s face was completely blank, unreadable.

  “We’ll be waiting outside the door,” Simon reassured her.

  She laid a hand on her advisor’s arm. “Don’t do anything rash.”

  “Of course not, but we can’t allow any more violence.” Simon was a valued advisor. He often leaned on the side of caution rather than action. Come to think of it, Stieger had always been more impulsive, more hard-lined about Earth’s interests. Simon was a true diplomat, always seeking a compromise.

  Todd had been one of her father’s choices, and she knew very little about him. Those insidious doubts crept in again. What was her real mission here? She thought it was to bring Asberek to heel, but Stieger’s actions were not according to their plan. Fallon wanted to believe her father had nothing to do with the man’s violent intentions, but she wasn’t sure.