Taming The Wild Man - an erotic romance

by Toni Sands

  As if in a dream, Sedok moves to a wall unit and activates the mechanism. A gleaming auto-pod glides from its locking port and settles on the departure ramp.

  ‘Perfect. I must go.’ She takes a few steps towards the waiting car. Almost there.

  ‘One moment.’ Sedok’s eyebrows are comically high.

  She wishes she could blush to order but settles for a sweet smile and the eyelash-batting routine he seems to find so pleasing. ‘Forgive my lack of courtesy, Sedok. The sooner I depart, the sooner I can return. And of course I want you to book a bliss cubicle. Close to the time we retire to our cells would be good, don’t you think? I shall relish the opportunity to relax with you after my … strenuous day.’ She places her palms together in the customary manner.

  She knows her flirtatiousness isn’t lost on Sedok who, like herself, comes from a gene pool not so far removed from that of the wild people. Zia has to hide her relief when he gestures to the vehicle and she can approach and achieve iris recognition to allow access. With one lithe moment she’s at the controls.

  ‘I shan’t be on duty when you return. But I shall see you at supper?’ Sedok’s eyes are on her breasts, highlighted by the severity of her tunic.

  ‘It’s not too long to wait.’ Her voice is low and seductive and the star brother has to bend to catch her words, which means he also catches her sumptuous perfume. He stands upright and activates the main doors. They slide across. Sunlight slants into the departure well and Zia, with one last wave of her hand, is up and out before it even occurs to him that he hasn’t checked authorisation for her departure. But, inappropriate as it may be in that world of restraint and good behaviour, Sedok is besotted. And to him, Zia can do no wrong. His fingers itch to remove that severe tunic and with an effort he stops imagining himself laying his head on those snowy breasts.

  Conall’s been working in the fields since daybreak. Sweat drips from his brow and muscles ripple beneath his tanned skin as he fills basket after basket with strawberries. The smell of the luscious fruit – that smell of warmth and summer – seems to bring Zia’s face floating in front of him. And it’s a short step to imagine placing a juicy berry between those slightly sulky lips that just a short time ago sucked his erect cock.

  He sighs and straightens his back, wondering what she’s doing at this moment. And is she carrying his child? He wishes he knew. But what good would it do? He answers his own question just as his father would if he was standing next to him. But Molan’s visiting friends and family members, delivering fruit and vegetables while it’s fresh. In return he’ll receive other goods like flour from the mill, candles or soft wool spun from the fleeces of an ancient breed of sheep.

  Conall knows it’s no use dreaming. But he frowns and tilts his head to listen. It’s almost as though he can hear his name being called. Heart racing, he turns his head towards the ocean but there’s no vessel approaching. And friends and family members are either working hard indoors or outside within earshot. Still the feeling haunts him.

  ‘I’m hearing voices now,’ he tells himself. And putting it down to his tangled emotions, he returns to his task

  Zia ignores the urgent chiming she knows signals authority. At last she’s parking in the now-familiar lay-by. So they’ve discovered she’s journeyed above-ground? So what? She has a momentary twinge of conscience as she thinks of Sedok. Maybe he won’t be interrogated too much. After all, he was carrying out his role. As she leaves the auto pod her excitement is stronger than anything she’s ever before experienced. She’s so close to Conall she can almost taste him. She has no way of contacting him. And of course he isn’t expecting her. It’s going to be such a surprise for him. She’s stepped way out of line. She’s behaved like a wild one! Surely he’ll approve of that?

  The lock zaps into place. She hesitates a moment, wondering what will happen to the vehicle then sets off; hover boots skimming the downwards trail. Soon she’ll be walking along the beach – arriving at the cave. ‘I’m coming to you, Conall,’ she calls. ‘All I want is for us to be together. Nothing else matters.’

  The breeze captures her words and tosses them high above the ocean. Zia laughs with joy. She’s doing what she feels is right for her and for Conall. She’s listening to her heart. And that really is all that matters.

  The diligent Star Sister Four is baffled. She clutches the extra-nutritious breakfast pack destined for her charge and stares around the empty cell. The gossamer spread, designed to keep a sleeper at a comfortable temperature all night, lies in a neat square on the bed. The woman fingers the under- sheet and pillow and finds them cool. A faint perfume lingers in the air. A quick check in the closet reveals Zia’s uniform, her helmet and boots are missing. The star sister clenches her fists in anguish and hurries off.

  She arrives outside Shara X’s quarters, breathless and not a little worried. The Regulator is known to have an acid tongue when no one’s there to listen except the unfortunate victim.

  ‘Enter.’

  The woman walks forward, presses her palms together and bows her head in the customary greeting. The Regulator nods. ‘Well?’

  ‘I – it’s Zia, my lady.’

  One raised eyebrow and a quizzical expression is enough to bring the words tumbling. ‘I took breakfast to her cell but she’s no longer there.’

  ‘What do you mean, no longer there?’ A very cold gaze now.

  The helpless woman spreads her hands. ‘Her above-ground uniform is not in the closet.’

  Shara X sighs. ‘I see. Well, she can’t have got far. You’d better start looking for her. Now.’

  The Regulator turns to her screen. Strokes a corner with one finger then speaks into the vox-tab attached to her robe. ‘Sedok? It’s possible that Star Sister Zia will attempt to leave the Collective without my authority. If she arrives, will you alert me immediately?’ Her words cut the air like a sliver of ice and she kills the connection.

  Sedok closes his eyes. His lips expel a whoosh of air. Why did he not inform the Regulator of Zia’s departure? Why is his head still spinning from his recent encounter with the young woman who fills not just his dreams but almost his every waking moment? Now he’s in a quandary.

  He’s guilty of letting his heart overcome his head. And that, within the Collective, is a huge sin. Sedok wonders if he can cover up for both of them. He hasn’t the least idea why Zia’s making an illicit journey above ground. But he has to make contact with her. Perhaps, together, they can concoct a story. He moves to his desk console and taps in a code. He watches the red light pulse, denoting the chime is telling the driver to respond. He waits and waits.

  The sea’s translucent today. Its green-blue depths hold marine life Zia can only imagine from what she’s learned in her eighteen years of life. She knows this vast ocean also holds dangers from which she is no longer immune. Her aura isn’t charged with the protective shield afforded on her previous visits. For that reason she shadows the rocky escarpment to her left, eyes watchful as her boots skim the dark shingle, transporting her ever-closer to her goal.

  Zia’s mindset is such that all she thinks about is running into Conall’s arms. So when she reaches the cave and leaves the sunny beach for its dim interior, she stops as if hit by a jet of icy water. No Conall. As her eyes adjust to the half-light, she sees the floor’s swept clean and the food container’s closed. There are no empty glasses or bottles in sight. The soft throw, scene of their recent passionate encounters, lies folded neatly on a rock, just as she tidied her blanket in her cell. Zia moves closer and strokes the fur, drinking in the sensations so clear in her memory – memories that can so easily arouse the desire she feels for this man.

  Where are you, Conall? Where are you? She closes her eyes and lets her mind relax, hoping her intuition will guide her. He can’t be far away. That much she’s sure of. Her conviction takes her out again into the sunshine. What was that he mentioned about his parents’ home? It wasn’t far away. That was it. Picturing his vague gesture points her in the oppo
site direction from the pathway she used to reach the beach. Her magic boots pick up speed as she strides along, still keeping a safe distance from the ocean, eyes seeking the path she knows will take her to Conall.

  And if he’s not there? Zia chooses to ignore that cold, intrusive suggestion. Where else would he be? He spoke of the plentiful fruit harvest and the satisfaction of sharing and bartering. She’d looked at him in amazement. Bartering? In the Collective everyone is apportioned a fair share according to status and bodily needs. She remembers what’s happening to her own body and instinctively places her hands on her stomach, wondering what the tiny being can possibly look like. And all of a sudden she hears voices. Could it be Conall coming down to the beach with a friend? Or with his father maybe?

  Zia, joy rushing through the whole of her body, increases her pace, sees what looks like a spiralling pathway and bounds on her way upwards. It’s only when she reaches an elbow-bend and loses sight of the beach below, that the owners of the voices are revealed.

  ‘Lunch now, Conall?’

  He straightens his back. ‘I’m certainly ready for it. But I mustn’t be long. I need to go down to the beach.’

  His mother frowns. ‘You’re not working with us this afternoon?’

  He pulls his mane of hair out of its band and reties it. ‘I thought I might go for a swim.’

  But she’s used to him. ‘Chasing sea monsters, is it?’

  He wrinkles his nose at her. ‘I’ve left my best knife in the cave. And we’re cutting beans this afternoon. I can work faster with that knife.’

  She gives him the look that he calls her checking on the offspring look.

  ‘All right,’ he says. ‘So I’m a bit absent-minded at the moment. And the walk will do me good after all this crouching and reaching.’

  Suddenly he frowns. Turning towards the headland, he cups his ear. Slowly he shakes his head. ‘In fact, I think I’ll get off now. Then I’ll be ready to face the beans as soon as I’ve eaten.’

  Conall’s mother watches her son stride away. She knows the demons he’s fighting at present. And they have nothing to do with the marine creatures and predatory birds that make al fresco eating a dubious pastime. The sooner he can rid his thoughts of the star sister that made such a brief but powerful impression on him, the better it’ll be, though she hates the thought of his leaving the family home. If only he could find a suitable woman from another settlement and bring her back with him. If only …

  ‘What have we here, then, Jared?’

  ‘A Star Sister’s what we have here, Rhun.’

  As if in slow motion, Zia takes another step forward and finds herself face to face with two bearded men, probably around her own age, she thinks. She folds her arms across her chest, telling herself she wouldn’t have got this far without using reserves of courage not usually drawn upon. But the men’s appraising glances make her feel uneasy – make her feel as if their hands are crawling over her skin.

  Though they’re obviously people from Conall’s world, their features are coarser than his – their hair lacks the thick glossiness of his mane. As she looks at the fishing rods they carry, she notices their hands are spade-like, with podgy fingers and grimy fingernails.

  She has to put her aversion out of her mind. ‘Greetings, friends. Yes, I’m from the Collective. And I’m going to visit a family who I believe live near here.’ Her voice lifts as she ends her sentence.

  Jared, or maybe Rhun, is eyeing her boots. His eyes gleam with something she doesn’t recognise.

  ‘Nice boots. They’d suit my sister well.’

  Zia swallows. Spreads her hands in helplessness. ‘I wish I had another pair with me. Your sister would be welcome to them. But I’m afraid I cannot part with these.’

  Both men guffaw. ‘Is that right?’ says the taller one. ‘Then maybe we must relieve you of something else. Ay, Rhun?’

  Zia shakes her head. ‘I have nothing else to give. There is no money where I come from.’

  The youths’ gruff, ribald laughter echoes in her ears as she stands there, looking from one to the other until it dawns on her that she’s in great peril. She’d dreaded huge birds swooping from the sky, monsters heaving their scaly bulk from the waves, even wild boar charging her. This danger is a different matter. She’ll be helpless against these two.

  Zia’s almost about to hand over her precious boots when the man called Rhun puts down his fishing rod. Glances towards a hollow just off the cliff path and, looking straight at Jared, jerks his head towards the grassy bowl. They close in on Zia. Her scream is stifled by Rhun’s massive paw, even as Jared snatches at the buckle of his rough trousers.

  Two people hear that scream. One is Conall, who freezes as he strides down the track leading to the beach. Recognition fires his brain and he takes off, long tail of hair streaming, honed brown legs scrambling and bounding as he eats up the distance.

  The other person who hears Zia’s cry for help is a slim brunette in her late thirties. She lives in a community no more than 60 kilometres away and she’s helping her husband collect hens’ eggs when her consciousness registers the moment of distress. She closes her eyes, using her psychic strength to send waves of reassurance to the one who is her firstborn child. And in her mind’s eye she sees a young, tawny-haired man, hurtling to her daughter’s rescue.

  When she opens her eyes again, she feels a sense of peace, even though her view of the chickens is misted with tears. ‘My sweet daughter,’ she whispers. ‘You’re safe now. But how can this be? What brings you to our wild world?’

  It’s difficult to remove the uniform of a star sister. Especially for someone built for brutality and lacking in nimbleness. Under clumsy hands, the tunic refuses to budge or even to tear. And Zia wears trousers today, rather than the provocative shorts she chose for the two seashore rendezvous.

  Conall, powered by love and fury, plummets like a panther on a hapless fawn. He twists Jared round to face him then prods two fingers into the man’s eyes with one hand, while punching him in the solar plexus with the other. The would-be attacker falls to the ground, jerking in agony.

  His companion has a better chance against Conall. He raises his fishing rod like a whip but instead of lashing out at the furious young man, he holds up his other hand as if signalling peace. ‘Get off, Conall. Leave us be. Or else shut up and wait your turn. Some fancy meat this is, ay?’

  ‘You bastard. How dare you behave like a Neanderthal? I’ll report you to the Council for this!’ Conall’s voice is low but the blaze in his eyes makes Jared flinch and step backwards, catching his foot on loose pebbles. He loses his balance, tips backward on to the path and rolls several metres before he lands in a thorny bush. A scream of agony rips the air as spikes puncture his face and catch in his unkempt hair.

  ‘Now, keep away from my patch,’ is the last thing Zia remembers hearing before waves of dizziness pull her into some other plane of consciousness.

  Conall succeeds in catching her before she falls. He scoops her up in his arms and begins to climb back the way he came. Somewhere in the mists, Zia sees an oddly familiar face, a gentle face so full of love and tenderness that she wishes she could stay in that timeless zone. But when she opens her eyes, it’s a different face that’s close to hers. This face is familiar too, strong-featured with compassionate eyes and a strong chin, shadowed with stubble. A spasm of desire jolts her as she forces herself back into the real world.

  ‘I can walk. Please put me down, Conall.’

  ‘And have those boots carry you away from me?’ But he stops and lowers her onto the ground, making sure his arms stay round her.

  She nestles close. ‘Thank you for rescuing me.’

  His eyes are troubled. ‘But what are you doing here? I received no message.’

  ‘I’ve escaped. I’ve come to you. I … I hope you still want me. You do still want me, don’t you?’

  His hazel eyes darken with desire as she gazes up at him. And she knows she’s done the right thing. Whatever
the Collective might do now, they can’t destroy the love she feels for Conall and which she’s sure he feels for her. He moves closer, tilts her face up like a flower towards the sunshine and their lips meet in a kiss ripe with promise.

  Conall’s parents rise to greet their son as he walks towards them, hand in hand with Zia.

  ‘Father. Mother. This is Zia. She’s the star sister I told you about.’

  Molan nods, puts his hands together in greeting and bows to Zia.

  Appreciating this gesture, her expression is curious as she reciprocates the greeting.

  Then Conall’s mother steps forward and hugs Zia to her. ‘I am Adila. I don’t know what’s going on but if you wish to be here, then you’re welcome.’

  ‘It’s not quite as easy as that, Mother,’ says Conall. ‘Zia’s run away from them.’

  ‘As your mother did before you.’

  Zia turns to look at the speaker, her expression wary. ‘You know about my mother?’

  Molan nods. ‘I know that your mother decided to return to her kinsfolk although she was a much-respected star sister. After you were … taken from her, she decided she could no longer be party to such heartless practices. She was given permission to make her own way in the world above ground. I was delegated to deliver her to the settlement some 60 kilometres down this coast.’

  Zia pulls a small wallet from her tunic pocket and holds it out for Conall’s father. ‘Is this how you remember my mother?’

  Molan examines the picture and nods. ‘You don’t really need a picture. All you need do is look in a mirror. And don’t worry. Your mother was too much for the Collective to handle. It was far easier to let her go than try and tame her. I imagine they are going to feel exactly the same about you.’ He lowers his voice. ‘Zia, your mother was devastated by being forced to leave you behind. But had she stayed, we all know that she wouldn’t have been allowed to bond with you, or even to care for you. That’s not what they’re about, is it?’

  Conall hugs Zia to him as he sees the tears glisten on her eyelashes.