Atlantis Series Complete Collection

by Gena Showalter

  Rage exploded inside his eyes. “You will not hook up with one of my men. Ever.”

  “Wrong! My body. My choice.”

  His nostrils flared as he fought for control and oh, wow, the sight actually…turned her on. He wanted to keep her all to himself.

  “You’re mine,” he grated.

  “Actually, I’m mine.”

  “Fine. I’m willing to share you with you and only you.”

  She almost—almost—laughed. “How kind of you,” she muttered.

  “Yes. I’m very kind.” He stepped back and offered his hand. “Shall we?”

  The distance…displeased her, the most feminine parts of her body actually pouting.

  She peered at his blunt-tipped fingers…at the calluses and scars slashed across his palm, a contrast to his otherwise flawless beauty. As strong as he was, he could have killed her at any moment. He could have crushed her and yet he’d been nothing but gentle with her.

  Oh, yes. I’m a fool.

  She willingly twined her fingers with his—and gasped. A blast of heat slammed into her. Tingles raced over her.

  She tried to tug away from him, to sever the connection, but he held tight. He even lifted her knuckles to his lips and kissed.

  The heat—a thousand degrees worse.

  The tingles—a thousand times stronger.

  “You are precious to me,” he said. “The one I’ve been searching for all the days of my life.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek, battling the pleasure his declaration had wrought. “Are you saying you…love me?”

  “No. Not yet. But I have no doubt love for you will come.”

  “How?” No one had ever loved her. “How can you believe that?”

  “Every nymph has a fated mate, and you are mine.”

  “I don’t understand,” she rasped. “I don’t understand at all.”

  “You will. In time.”

  The words—a warning? a promise?—rang in her head as he led her up the rest of the stairs. At the top, two gleaming crystal doors slid open.

  They traveled down a series of long, winding hallways. Luxurious hallways. Gold brick walls had been draped with strands of emeralds that wound this way and that to resemble ivy. Alabaster columns were decorated with fist-size diamonds that had been carved to look like roses in full bloom. From the ceiling hung multiple chandeliers, each in the shape of a dragon’s head, crimson-colored crystals dripping from fangs that might have been fashioned from pearls.

  The magnificence overwhelmed her.

  “Do you like your…the palace?” he asked. “We’ll be replacing the chandeliers with a less hideous design.”

  “It’s beautiful. It’s all beautiful.”

  They turned a corner, vivid wall murals coming into view. Each scene showcased a man, doing something kind for a woman. Feeding her grapes. Undressing her. Bathing her.

  “I had to paint over dragon portraits,” he said, noticing where her attention was fixed.

  “You painted these?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your talent is…” Compliment her captor? No! “Decent.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Perhaps you’ll pose for me one day.”

  Her heart rate increased. Had nothing to do with Valerian, of course. She’d obviously developed an early-onset heart arrhythmia.

  “Why did you take the palace from the dragons?” she asked, desperately returning to the previous topic of conversation. The safer topic.

  “Nymphs have always been natural wanderers. For centuries, we flittered from one location to the other in search of our next sexual conquest, but I grew weary of such an existence. I wanted more for myself and more for my people.”

  “Why? What changed?” According to her therapist, transformation required a catalyst.

  “A sense of restlessness plagued me for months. I knew if I wanted a better life, I had to do something different. This is my different.”

  Basically, he’d changed his mind. Just as he would change his mind about Shaye.

  “Usually nymphs attack only when provoked,” he added, “keeping our bestial natures under strict control, but dragons are an enemy to the vampires, our only ally.”

  “Do the other races not like the nymphos?” Bet I can guess all the reasons why.

  “They don’t like our power over women. Layel, the vampire king, finds it amusing.”

  She shuddered, praying she never came face to face with a blood drinker. “Do you regret the decision to steal?”

  “Not in the slightest,” Valerian replied easily. “Once I entered the palace, my restlessness was replaced by rightness. Now, having met you, I understand why.”

  She scowled at him. “Stop saying things like that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because—just because!”

  They turned another corner. Valerian stiffened.

  So did she. They’d entered what was clearly the dining hall…where the ceremony was set to begin.

  CHAPTER SIX

  FOR YEARS, VALERIAN had imagined his perfect future. He would lead the strongest army in Atlantis. His queen would rule at his side, happy to belong to him. She would adore him. Of course she would adore him. He would treasure her. Their days would be hot, but their nights would be hotter.

  Finally he’d found her—only to lose her?

  What if another warrior selected her during the ceremony?

  Someone would. Surely. What man could resist the fire burning beneath her cool facade, begging for release?

  Rage detonated inside him. He’d said he wouldn’t choose a woman, but he regretted the vow with every fiber of his being.

  He couldn’t go back on his word, but he couldn’t allow his Moon to end up with anyone else, either.

  What was he going to do? Not all of his men loved him. A few would choose her simply to strike at him.

  His cousin might even attempt to trade her for his crown.

  He’d also vowed he would never relinquish his reign. But what good was his crown without his queen?

  He wanted—nay, he needed—her. To kiss her. To know the taste of her tongue and her skin. He’d come close to kissing her in the cave. Would she have fought him…or melted for him?

  Like you really have to wonder.

  She would have fought him. For some reason, she wanted to get to know him before she allowed herself to enjoy him. A novel concept. One he actually…appreciated?

  He’d never before cared about the reasons a woman desired him. The pheromone. His pretty face. His strength. His exalted position. Whatever! But for the first time, he wanted someone to desire him for…dare he think it?…his personality—the man he’d become.

  Doubts surfaced. You kidnapped her, putting your needs above her wants. Your personality is lacking.

  Pain tore through the center of his chest. Could he win her affections despite his crime?

  Perhaps. But he would have to win her the same way he’d won the dragon palace. With cunning, precision and an absolute lack of mercy.

  Slowly his lips lifted in a grin. Oh, yes. She would soon find herself on the receiving end of a full-scale attack.

  “Take me back to the beach,” she said, tugging against his hold. Her heartbeat drummed erratically against his back, and he could feel the shallow exhalations of her breath against his skin. “Right now. I’m through playing nice. Do you hear me?”

  “Everyone hears you, Moon.” He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her body to his. “The answer is no.”

  Their bare stomachs pressed together, and she sucked in a breath. His muscles jumped in excited reaction.

  She might deny it, but she was aware of him in a very sexual way. A wonderful start!

  “You are frightened,” he said, “and I’m sorry for it.”

  “Frightened? Ha! I’m so angry I could spit.”

  “Spitting is a sign of your anger? Noted.”

  For some reason, his response caused her to screech.

  At her outburst, seve
ral of his men flinched. A few regarded her with weary reluctance.

  Hope bloomed. Had he just found the answer to his dilemma?

  “Whatever you do,” he said, “do not attack my men as they make their selection.”

  Her head lifted, and her eyes glared amber fire at him. “You can’t stop me.”

  Do not smile, he thought. .Get this over with.

  Anticipation thickened the air. A contingent of warriors lined one side of the room while a sweet-smelling cluster of females lined the other.

  “I’m not placing myself on the menu of this—this smorgasbord.” She slammed her elbow into his stomach, almost knocking the air from his lungs.

  His men watched them with varying expressions of horror. For their benefit, he said, “Be still, woman.”

  “Sure. If you’ll do me a favor and die.”

  The horror intensified, just as he’d hoped. If he, the most desired of nymphs, failed to entice this woman, his men were destined to fail with her, too. No one wanted to risk failure. Or even a lengthy wooing. Not while sex could be easily had with another.

  Valerian forced a frown, feigning disappointment, and tapped her on the backside. Once again, she reacted as he’d hoped.

  “Did you just spank me?” she bellowed. Her eyes were dark velvet, rich and warm, absolutely riveting in her pale face. “Tell me you didn’t just spank me, Valerian.”

  Ah, he loved hearing his name spill from her soft, pink lips. The rest of the world faded away, as it always seemed to do when he looked at her.

  “I told you I would never lie to you,” he said.

  “You also told me you wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “Did my love tap hurt you?”

  Her perfect white teeth flashed in a scowl. “Pain isn’t always physical.”

  True. “Did I hurt you mentally? Emotionally?” The idea hurt him, physically, mentally and emotionally.

  How many others had hurt her throughout her young life?

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I plead the fifth.”

  “Fifth. Five. Is that the number of ways you hope I’ll take you?” he asked softly.

  Another bellow. “Stop acting as if you adore me,” she grated. “It’s creepy.”

  “But I do adore you.”

  “You can’t! How many times do I have to tell you? You. Don’t. Know. Me.”

  “I know you have a temper.”

  “And so do millions of other people.”

  “I know you like to be touched, whether you admit it or not.” Many times she’d leaned into him before coming to her senses and stiffening. “I know you like when I compliment you.” Her gaze always softened.

  She huffed and puffed. “You’re wrong.”

  “Would you rather I say mean things to you?”

  “Yes!”

  He also knew she meant that and blinked with confusion. “Why?”

  “Why don’t you tell me?” she challenged.

  Only one reason made any sense, and he thrilled. “When I’m kind, your defenses threaten to crumble.”

  She gave an adamant shake of her head.

  He only thrilled harder!

  “My king,” Broderick prompted. “We’re ready. We have instructed the women to remain in place until they’ve been chosen.”

  Valerian blanked his expression. He picked up his woman and carried her to the end of the line. A quick count revealed more men than women.

  Many warriors would be going to bed alone tonight. What if someone decided having a chance to woo Moon would be better than having no chance at all?

  “Stay quiet,” he told her, suspecting she would do the opposite. “Everyone will want a good look at you without any distractions.”

  She lifted her chin. “This T and A pageant sucks balls. I won’t passively stand here—and neither should you,” she shouted at the other women. “We are human beings, and we have rights. Men do not choose us, we choose our men. We say no to these nymphos and their demeaning ceremony. We demand to be returned home. Who’s with me?”

  Silence.

  “Who’s with me?” Broderick asked.

  One female jumped up, her arm extended in the air. “Pick me! Pick me!”

  “No. Me!”

  Shaye’s shoulders brushed his chest as they rolled in, and several strands of silken hair snagged in his nipple ring.

  “If I help you remain unchosen,” he whispered, “will you tell me your name?”

  “I—maybe.” Her eyelids slitted, the length of her lashes casting spiky shadows over her cheeks. “Why would you help me?”

  Why indeed. The answer should have been obvious to her. “I intend to keep you for myself.” He stated the words as baldly as possible. He needed an extreme reaction from her—something to appall his men further.

  “I’m not a piece of meat, and this isn’t a buffet. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Her gaze blazed over his men. “All of you should be ashamed.”

  Valerian heaved a mighty sigh. “If you won’t remain in line,” he called loudly, “I’ll be obligated to hold you in place.”

  “Keep your hands to yourself! I don’t want to be touched. I’ll never want to be touched.”

  Nymphs recoiled in horror.

  A wave of triumph swept through him. “Broderick,” he called.

  “Yes, my king.” The warrior stepped forward, excitement radiating from him.

  “As second in command and leader of the elite, you are granted first choice.” Valerian loosened his hold on his captive so that her movements were more obvious.

  She squirmed, her murmured curses and grunts filling the air.

  Broderick grinned and approached the females, starting at the far end. Feminine twitters and purrs echoed throughout the spacious enclosure.

  A new chorus erupted. “Pick me, pick me!”

  “What have you done to them?” Shaye demanded.

  Full disclosure. “We produce a potent pheromone all…well, most women find pleasing.”

  She stiffened. “By pheromone, do you mean drug?”

  “The word drug implies wrongdoing on our part. Just as humans have no control over the way they perspire, we have no control over the way we pheromone. And it doesn’t drug. It frees hidden desires.”

  Broderick slowly edged his way down the line, stopping here and there to study a woman more closely—even to touch. But he didn’t ask questions, getting to know the women better, and it clearly irritated Shaye, who mumbled under her breath.

  By the time he reached her, the warrior had yet to make his selection.

  He reached out to touch her.

  Valerian had to swallow a harsh rebuke.

  She reared back, calling, “Shaye Octavia Holling. That’s my name.”

  Shaye. Valerian rolled the name over his tongue, savoring its delicacy. “I like your name.”

  “Thank you,” she snapped. “I got it for my birthday.”

  Funny girl. “Kick him.” He breathed the command straight into her ear. “As hard as you can.”

  Without hesitation, she slammed her knee between Broderick’s legs. The stunned warrior hunched over, gasping for breath; the rest of the army burst into gales of laughter.

  “I’m not your chattel,” Shaye grated. “You disgust me. I hope your testicles have to be surgical removed from you intestines.”

  Valerian bit back a grin. His second in command quickly selected the curviest woman in line. The pair rushed from the dining hall without a backward glance.

  One down…

  “Dorian.” Valerian nodded to the man often referred to as the sexiest male in Atlantis. “You’re next.”

  To Shaye—would he ever get enough of her name?—he whispered, “When he approaches you, ignore him. Don’t even look at him.”

  “You’re sure?” she whispered back.

  Valerian had expected the process of elimination to infuriate him. Instead, he and Shaye were working together, and he loved it.

  “I’m sure.”

  *
* *

  SHAYE COULDN’T believe she stood in a line of singles, being ogled by nymphos while relying on Valerian to ensure her safety. He’d gotten her into this mess in the first place! But she could think of no other alternative. Letting one of these barbarians “claim” her and drag her away to do who knew what to her held zero appeal.

  “Won’t ignoring him bring out all his caveman instincts?” she asked softly.

  “Anyone else? Yes. Not him.” Valerian sounded amused. “His pride will demand immediate soothing—from someone else.”

  Well. Consider him ignored.

  The one named Dorian had onyx hair and irises so pure and blue they rivaled the ocean. His mouthwatering beauty was something out of a fairy tale, his features somehow even more perfect than Valerian’s….but he didn’t make her ache.

  He didn’t fill her mind with X-rated images of naked, straining bodies.

  As Dorian followed Broderick’s example and considered every woman in line, Shaye’s hands curled into fists.

  How would these men like it if the tables were turned? If they were the ones being looked over and judged?

  Who was she kidding? They would love every second of it.

  There had to be a way to override the nympho pheromone and convince these women they did not sexually desire their captors.

  When Dorian reached Shaye, he made sure to remain out of striking distance. He studied her, his intense gaze lingering on her every curve.

  Just as before, Valerian stiffened.

  She peered down at her cuticles as if she hadn’t a care.

  “You intrigue me, female,” Dorian told her.

  She faked a yawn. His intrigue? Probably nothing more than the pride Valerian had mentioned. Winning the one others had failed to win would come with a side of bragging rights.

  “Female?”

  Another yawn.

  The warrior expelled a frustrated breath.

  Maybe she had a cruel streak, because she liked upsetting him.

  “Look at me,” Dorian commanded, reminding her of a petulant child.

  She brushed an invisible piece of lint from her arm.

  He tangled a hand through his hair and eyed his boss. “Valerian. A little help, if you please.”

  Valerian lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I can’t force her eyes on you unless I remove them.”

  “But—”