The Ultimatum

by Susan Kearney

  She didn’t want him to release her because the webbing kept her from throwing herself at him. The webbing kept her from falling to her hands and knees and begging him to take her.

  Yet she wanted him to release her—so she could tackle him, run her hands over him, press her breasts against him. She was desperate to be free. She ached to learn the feel of the powerful muscles on his arms and neck and chest, thread her fingers into his thick black hair, tug his head down for a kiss.

  Krek. Krek. Krek.

  She must resist or he’d learn her secret. “You release me, and I’ll kill you.”

  At her words, he paused and straightened. Her threat was an outright lie. Unless the man could die of an overdose of sex, he was safe from her.

  Still tied, but with him no longer touching her and the delicious vibrations from his smacks slowing ebbing, she regained a measure of control, albeit not quite enough to cover her nudity. But he wasn’t even trying to look at her body through the webbing, and she still didn’t know whether to be glad . . . or frustrated.

  “Drik hates me. He’d be glad to see me dead.” Or totally humiliated. No doubt he was laughing through his ugly yellow teeth at her current predicament.

  “I don’t doubt Drik hates you, but what he wants doesn’t matter. I don’t want you dead. We’ll find a way to keep you alive. We left a hostage behind, and I plan to return you to Endeki and bring Kirek home. So I won’t let you die on me.”

  Ak, if he refused her, she would die all right. But first she would suffer the longings of the tempted. Nothing was worse than knowing that she’d already spent too much time with him for self-gratification to satisfy her. Nothing was worse than recalling that her father had once tied her mother to a chair and then left her to suffer for hours for an imagined slight, and that although Alara had sworn never to be in the same circumstances, despite all her education and research, she was in exactly the same position as her mother had been. Frustration entered her tone, but she raised her chin a notch to meet his confused stare.

  “Believe what you wish.”

  “You will tell me now why you made your suit transparent.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his tone calm, his expression curious. “Did you think if you gave me your body that I would send you home?”

  “Are you open to such a bargain?”

  “No.” His eyes burned as if he were insulted. But it was she who had taken the insult. He’d just turned her down.

  Stars. Was he going to refuse her, humiliate her, and make her lie—that he had no option but to take her home or she would die—come true within the week? Angry at the suffering she would endure, hurt by Drik’s betrayal, furious that her research would never help the women on her planet, knowing she faced a terrible death if Xander refused her, she wondered if she had the courage to take her own life—but she could not even do that webbed in and with her hands bound behind her.

  The gentle nudge of the deck beneath her feet told her the shuttle had connected with the mother ship. But Xander made no move to leave.

  “Alara, you will explain why you made your suit transparent.” He glared at her as if determined to wait her out.

  Her mouth went dry—even as a part of her applauded his male arrogance. She swallowed hard, hating that she was caught in such a circumstance. All her work, all her hopes, all her dreams had died when he’d abducted her. Now if she wanted to live, he was going to force her to tell him the truth.

  XANDER TRIED TO keep his gaze above her neck. But he was male. He couldn’t simply ignore her lush curves, her silky smooth golden skin that would tantalize any man—except him. Xander didn’t care if she had the curves of a goddess, or the green eyes of a nymphet or the face of a temptress. She was Endekian. Her people had invaded his world, killed his neighbors, his friends, his mother.

  Alara was an alien wrapped in an enticing package of silken gold flesh and tantalizing attitude. But, she was hiding something from him. He didn’t have to be an empath to feel her squirming or to note her discomfort. Perhaps he’d tied the webbing too tight, although she hadn’t complained.

  He had to admit he was disappointed that the brilliant Dr. Alara Calladar had resorted to offering her body to him in exchange for her freedom. A Rystani woman would put more value on her worth. A Terran had better morals. Even the ladies from the matriarchal society of Scartar chose lovers with more discrimination.

  Disappointed in her behavior, he took no pleasure in her lack of clothing. He didn’t want to be reminded that she was female. He didn’t want to think of her as a person with a life. He didn’t want reminders that he’d taken her away from her work and her friends and her home. He didn’t want to have this conversation. As far as he was concerned, the sooner he could take her onto the Verazen and leave her alone in her quarters to come to terms with her predicament the better. Surely a rational being would come around to thinking that saving billions of lives was a good thing, a worthwhile endeavor?

  But as a respected captain, he didn’t want his crew to see him carrying aboard a biting, kicking, and screaming naked woman. While her kind of behavior wouldn’t necessarily be frowned upon on his former homeworld of Rystan, he was now a citizen of Mystique, where the blending of cultures had opened his eyes. While his new world hadn’t done that much to change his morality, he was certainly aware that his crew members from other cultures would consider manhandling a guest as offensive behavior. So if he and the Endekian were going to come to an understanding, he figured it would be better to have their argument here in the privacy of the shuttle. Besides, he didn’t wish for the crew to lose as much respect for her as he had, or their future working relationship might suffer.

  Her actions were inexplicable. She hadn’t simply changed the opacity of the suit. She’d changed the shielding. When his hand had come down on her bottom, he hadn’t expected to meet warm flesh. It was almost as if she’d welcomed his not-so-gentle touch, but that made absolutely no sense since she’d been kicking and swearing at him at the time. Quite simply, he didn’t understand anything about her except her commitment to her research. Yet, he must. For his crew to work together as a team, he had to have some idea what had turned one of the most respected scientists in the Federation into a naked, irrational, and stubborn adversary. From the narrowing of her dark arched brows, the tense grimace of her pouting lips, he could discern quite clearly she didn’t want to talk.

  They were at a standoff, the silence building with a tension he didn’t understand. Whatever her ploy, he couldn’t allow her to win.

  He tried to make his tone compassionate. “Disrupting your life and taking you from your homeworld was unavoidable. In time, you will understand.”

  Her eyes met his with resolve, but the irises dilated. “I will not. I demand you take me back.”

  Had she been a Rystani or a Terran woman, he would have read her expression as fear. Yet, though she quivered, she didn’t appear afraid but . . . on edge. For the first time he wished he knew more about Endekians. He could be reading her all wrong. At the times when their eyes locked, he’d thought he’d seen a flicker of her awareness of him as a man that shouldn’t be there. Perhaps Endekian female eyes dilated whenever they went into space. Or before they shouted at their abductors. He had no way of knowing unless she told him.

  Once again he tried to persuade with logic. “My mission is too urgent to consider your preferences. Taking you back to Endeki could mean failure. Without you and your talent, our chance of success lowers significantly. I know you care not for my people and the Terrans, but I have made a pledge I intend to keep.”

  “Taking me with you will also cause failure,” she insisted. “I will die if you keep me with you.”

  So much for logic. She obviously didn’t believe he could keep her alive. But they had many resources aboard the ship—if she would tell him exactly what she required, he’d try to supply it. He for
ced his tone to sound kind. “Why will you die?”

  She cursed and glared. He folded his arms and waited.

  Finally, with a sigh of disgust, she began to explain. “Every other year, female Endekians of childbearing age go through a biological cycle where our cells need regeneration. This year, I am in that phase we call Boktai.” She swallowed hard and couldn’t quite meet his gaze. She appeared to be looking past his right ear, as if the plain gray bulkhead behind him was the most interesting feature on the shuttle.

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “Your understanding isn’t necessary. I know little about Rystan, but are you familiar with the concept of privacy?”

  “Explain.” Recalling what he’d seen of Endekian behavior with Drik and Lataka, he suspected their concept of privacy was very different from his. When she remained silent, he added gently, “Please.” Every muscle in her body tensed. Her breasts heaved and as one coral-tipped nipple poked through the webbing, his mouth went dust-storm dry.

  One thing was certain. She was no new Federation member who couldn’t control her psi; likely she’d been introduced to her suit at an early age. She’d revealed her well-developed psi the first time they’d met when she’d had no difficulty controlling her clothing. So she remained naked of her own accord.

  She bit her bottom lip. “During this year, I must regenerate my cells on a periodic basis or I’ll die.”

  He had never heard of such a thing, but since he’d left Rystan he’d learned the universe seemed to take pleasure in propagating unique kinds of beings. The Zenonites were giant brains that required psi power to move due to the limited muscle power of their bodies. Osarians were telepathic, but had no sight. Even aboard his ship, his crew was composed of different humanoid varieties. But because of her vague replies, he still didn’t understand the problem. How could he help if she didn’t tell him more?

  “Why can you not regenerate on my ship?”

  “Are there Endekian males aboard?” she ground out with so much frustration that if she hadn’t been webbed in, she might have emphasized her words with a right punch to his jaw.

  “My crew is loyal to me. None are Endekian. None will set you free on Endeki. The sooner you understand, the—”

  “You aren’t listening. Regeneration requires a male.”

  He couldn’t think of one reason she’d need a male except for sex. But surely he’d misunderstood. He narrowed his brows. “Why?”

  If her eyes had been a storm, it would have been a total green out, slashing rain, stormy seas, lightning balls of emerald fire. So great was her fury, he had to stop himself from taking a step back.

  She fired words at him like blaster shots, fast, hard, and deadly. “Endekian biology is unique within the Federation. I could explain the process, but since you are neither a biologist nor a geneticist, you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Explain in laymen’s terms.”

  She didn’t hesitate this time, as if she perceived he would not give up until she made her position clear. “I require periodic mating to stay alive. Without male essence to mix with mine, my cells break down.”

  Sex. He hadn’t misunderstood. She required sex to stay alive. And male essence? Sweet Dregan hell.

  He heard the ring of truth in her words, and his heart thumped. “Is that why you’re naked? You require sex?”

  Her words dropped to a whisper, but her gaze remained fierce. “During Boktai, I lose control of my mind and my psi.”

  “You require sex . . . now?”

  “Very soon.”

  “How much time do you have?”

  “You abducted me at the wrong time. Once the Boktai is over, I might be able to . . .”

  He could only stare as her words registered. But he refused to accept defeat. There had to be a way to keep her alive short of taking her back. “Suppose I return to Endeki and find a male to—”

  She shook her head. “Drik would never allow your ship to return. At least, not in time. You underestimated him. Thanks to you, he’s found a way to get rid of me and my work. I am no use to you. Already my mind is foggy. I can’t even maintain proper psi. After I’m dead, Drik will have no reason to keep his hostage alive.”

  Well, that explained why she sat before him naked. Xander cursed beneath his breath. He wouldn’t fall so easily into the Endekian’s trap—and he sure as krek wasn’t about to give Drik a reason to harm Kirek.

  “Tell me more about Endekian cell regeneration.”

  She stared at him. “The process is uncomfortable.”

  “You are in pain?”

  Her lips turned into a rueful scowl. “I will be. For now, I am aroused.”

  Stars. Her eyes hadn’t been dilated with fear. She’d wanted a man. But he didn’t have an Endekian male on board his ship.

  “There is no other way to keep you alive?”

  “I already explained.”

  “You said you required male essence to combine with yours. This male must be Endekian?”

  “I don’t know. No Endekian woman has ever been off my world.”

  He recalled how she’d seemed on edge. “Are you reacting any differently to me than an Endekian male?”

  She closed her eyes. Bowed her head in defeat.

  And he knew.

  He suddenly yearned for a stiff drink to numb his concern at the trap he’d placed her in. Her body had reacted to him because he was humanoid. Male.

  If he wanted Dr. Alara Calladar’s help on his mission, he would have to attempt to regenerate her cells and hope that his Rystani essence would keep her alive. He’d have to have sex with her—even if mating with her went against every Rystani custom, even if his every warrior instinct warned of danger.

  5

  SO MUCH FOR Alara keeping her secret. Now Xander knew that mating with her would keep her alive. To negotiate her release, she’d tried to insinuate that only male Endekians had the chemistry she required. But with her blood boiling through her veins, and the heat rushing through her system, her need was too great to carry the ruse through. Desperation and the sizzling arousal from Xander’s touch, plus his wondrous male scent, had forced her to explain what she must do to stay alive. If the sight of his big male body weren’t flooding her with hormones that charged her senses into a frenzy, she might have controlled her psi, at least enough to keep her suit opaque.

  Heat pooled between her thighs, and her breasts ached for stimulation. Her nipples were tight, budding, and when she’d glanced down, she’d seen the tip protruding through the webbing. She swallowed hard.

  She’d tried to shift position, but the webbing trapped her and her protruding breast. When she caught Xander glancing at her nipple, she’d hoped he’d be intrigued enough to release her. She no longer wanted anything but . . . him. Holding back had been futile. But he’d forced his gaze to her eyes, and the heat combined with his attitude that seemed to say “I’m in charge and having no trouble resisting” stung her pride all over again.

  Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have liked him any more than he liked her, but when it came to Boktai, the finer emotions didn’t count. It mattered not if they had nothing in common. It mattered not if they came from different worlds. Her Endekian body read him as male, male, male. And demanded sex, craved sex, coveted his body inside hers with a hunger that made thinking of anything but him almost impossible. Even though she reminded herself that her brother had died in a war against Rystan, even when she reminded herself that this man had taken her from her home, her work, and her friends, she still wanted him on a level so savage and primal that concrete thinking didn’t count.

  The rational part of her thanked him for tying her down. Because if he hadn’t webbed her in, she’d no doubt be rubbing her bare flesh against him by now.

  Instead, her nerves were so on edge and her
breath so ragged, she had to bite her lower lip to keep from moaning. Soon she would lose every shred of higher thinking. She would succumb to the cravings of her body both in mind and spirit.

  As if he had no idea of her yearnings, his tone was flat, his expression seemingly disinterested. “Endekians invaded my home. Killed my mother. Because of your people’s encroachment of Rystan, I can’t even visit her grave.” He stared at her, his eyes full of sorrow and menace, as if he’d rather strangle her than have sexual intercourse.

  She bit down harder on her lip to keep the words from leaving her mouth . . . and failed. His scent was causing reactions she couldn’t suppress, and if he wouldn’t satisfy her, then she needed another solution. “If you find me so unappealing, perhaps one of your crew—”

  “You are my responsibility.” He folded his massive arms across his chest and glared at her as if she’d suggested he should shirk his duties. “Whatever job I take on, I do to the best of my ability.”

  She fought to keep her voice from breaking, raised her chin high, and locked gazes with him, refusing to let him see that she was slowly losing every scrap of scruples and rational judgment. “If you wish to keep me alive, you must assuage my needs.”

  He cocked his head to one side, a lock of dark hair falling at a jaunty angle over his eye. His nostrils flared. “What do I get in return?”

  An Endekian male wouldn’t ask such a question. The pleasure he took from her body would have been payment enough. But obviously, the Rystani considered taking care of her needs a chore. Distasteful. He acted as if he wouldn’t be enjoying her body at all. He acted as if he were lowering himself to be with her. He acted as if he’d rather be with any other woman in the universe. Didn’t she tempt him? Did he see her as unattractive and needy?

  Rejection stung. She couldn’t stop her feelings any more than she could put an end to Boktai. The universe had made her this way, and she knew from experience that raging against her fate would do no good.