Captured & Seduced

by Shelley Munro

  He lifted his head to laugh at her. “I am touching you.”

  Camryn swallowed, part of her still horrified at the alien tattoo. “My tattoo.” She wondered if it would disappear when she returned to Earth.

  “When I’m inside you,” he promised, his eyes gleaming with sensual promise.

  Her heart fluttered, the subtle quiver echoing in her womb.

  Ry unfastened the placket of his breeches and bent to lift the hem of her dress. Camryn felt the cool air on her nether region. No panties. The lack of underwear was disconcerting but convenient.

  His fingers slid across her moist folds. A purr rumbled deep in his chest. “You want me.” He stroked her flesh, trailing fingers back and forth in a determined assault until pleasure spiraled just out of reach. “Admit it,” he added. “Tell me.”

  “I want you.” God help her, but it was true. Ryman Coppersmith—drug of choice.

  Ry guided his cock to her entrance and impaled her, lifting her with ease while he plundered her mouth. “Yes.” No mistaking his reply for anything but satisfied.

  Their clothes rustled with each move. The faint tinkle of music poured from the ballroom along with soft voices, but Camryn concentrated on Ry, the way he surrounded her with his strength and protection, how he made her soar. He made good on his promise, stroking his fingers across her tattoo. Even with the fabric between her skin and his hands, the sensation overwhelmed her, made her gasp and her pussy clench hungrily. Anyone could discover them at any time, but she didn’t care. All she wanted was Ry. He lifted her and let her sink down on his shaft. A moan fell from her lips at the sweet contact. She shuddered. They’d scarcely started yet the familiar low pressure gathered between her thighs.

  “Come for me, Camryn.” He teased her sensitive nub while catching her gaze.

  His chatoyant eyes—they glowed full of mystery. Passion. Promise. Camryn ran her hand down his back, felt the buck of his cock in her warm channel, and suddenly her body convulsed with the force of her release. She cried out and Ry sealed her shout with his mouth. He thrust once. Twice. And stilled, panting while his cock jerked deep inside her. For an instant he squeezed her tight before separating their bodies and refastening his breeches. Once Camryn had righted her gown, he drew her into his arms and kissed her, lingering over the task. With each touch he cherished her, making her feel precious. Important.

  Masculine voices dragged them apart.

  “Go inside,” Ry murmured. “I’ll make sure no one follows you.”

  Camryn fled, her heart pounding. Ry made her feel things she didn’t want. She climbed the stairs into the ballroom, determined to find a drink just as soon as she tidied her appearance. Surely one drink wouldn’t hurt?

  The interior of the retiring room was luxurious like the ballroom. Candles flickered in wall sconces and several chairs were available for the ladies to rest. An ornate mirror filled most of one wall. Camryn checked her appearance and apart from the slight flush in her cheeks appeared normal. Amazing since her life raced out of control. She tucked an errant curl behind her ear and sank onto a chair. This relationship with Ry didn’t have a future.

  It couldn’t.

  Two women entered the retirement room. One wore a gold-jeweled mask, covering most of her face. Two rounded holes allowed her to see.

  “Do not mind me,” the masked woman said to her companion. “I will keep company with this lady while you are occupied.”

  “But your father…you won’t take off your mask, will you?”

  Camryn heard the apprehension in the woman’s voice and curiosity jumped to the fore. Why did the woman wear a mask? Was she scarred or injured?

  “Of course you may join me.” Camryn scoffed inside at the formal words. The ball and these fancy clothes were going to her head. Soon she’d start acting like the lady of the manor. She thought about Ry and what they’d done in the garden.

  Nope, not lady material. To her eternal shame, after Gabriel’s death she had slept with several men in an attempt to ease the pain. It hadn’t worked and she’d found alcohol did a better job of hiding the pain. “I’m Camryn,” she added.

  The masked lady smiled, or at least Camryn thought she did because of the movement of her jaw.

  “I am Gweneth Swithin. The governor’s daughter,” she added.

  “Oh!” Camryn said, shocked. “The dowry bride. Aren’t you worried about the identity of your future husband?” Camryn felt anger on the woman’s behalf, especially since some of the men who had entered the race were horrid. She’d hate an arranged marriage.

  “It is my chance to leave this world, to start over,” Gweneth answered with an unconcerned shrug.

  Camryn knew she’d never feel so blasé about marriage. “But what if you hate the man who wins the race?”

  “You must be a visitor to Ornum,” Gweneth said. “Surely you’ve noticed the shortage of marriageable men here on the planet? Most are convicts who have committed crimes on Ibrox. Serious crimes. Every man who has entered the race has money and some are of high status. My father is doing as he thinks best.”

  “But what if you don’t like the winner?”

  The woman laughed. “Marriage is too important to leave to karma. We must take control and direct fate. As time passes, my new husband and I will grow to like one another. My father has promised this.”

  “Oh,” Camryn said, battling to hide doubt. “That’s nice.” But she didn’t pay attention to the woman’s explanation. Her mind had grabbed hold of a salient fact. The woman expected to marry the winner. Marry him. After seeing the hell-horse races, she knew Gabby had a good chance of winning as long as she ignored the other horses in the field.

  The woman’s companion returned and with a polite nod, both departed the retirement rooms, leaving Camryn frozen in her chair. The thought of another woman in Ry’s bed made her stomach roil. She… No!

  Camryn forced herself to push aside her personal opinions. She would help Ry and his crew to win the race. They would return her home. Her growing feelings for Ry had no future.

  Chapter Eleven

  Relief filled Ry when they returned to their campsite after the ball. Although conditions were basic, it felt like home. He sensed the crew was pleased to return as well, out of the sight of Talor, his spies and the pre-race excitement.

  “Any problems?” he asked Nanu.

  “Apart from Luke being constantly underfoot, it was very quiet.”

  “No problems with Gabby?” Camryn asked.

  Nanu shook his head. “I’ve been grooming her just like you showed me. She’s eating well, but I think she missed you. I’m about to feed her. Are you coming?”

  “Try and stop me.” Camryn jogged from the tender and fell into step with Nanu.

  “The responsibility was good for him,” Jannike said. “Nanu looks better.”

  “I fancy fish for dinner,” Kaya said. “Anyone feel like fishing?”

  “I’m up for fishing,” Jannike said. “Care to wager on who catches the biggest fish?”

  “I will cook it,” Mogens offered.

  When the seer walked past, Ry stopped him with a raised hand. “Mogens, a word?” Today he was ebony, which alarmed Ry.

  “I thought to walk along the lakeside to the berry patch. Will you walk with me?”

  Ry accepted the bucket Mogens held out and followed the seer. For a time they walked in companionable silence. A white and scarlet bird cawed from the branches of a dead tree, and the shrieks of children playing in the village carried on the wind. They reached the berry patch, and Ry started picking the juicy orange berries, dropping them into his bucket.

  “You wished to speak to me?” Mogens prompted.

  “Since Camryn has joined us I haven’t wanted or needed another woman.” Ry glanced at his feet, feeling like a child confessing to his parent. “I haven’t taken any medicine since we left the Indefatigable.”

  The look Mogens sent him dissected like a sharp knife. “No medicine at all?”

&nbs
p; “No.”

  “And your sexual lust and cravings have gone?”

  “For every woman except Camryn.”

  Mogens dropped a berry in his bucket and straightened with a frown. “Since Camryn’s arrival the black tattoo blotches have come out on your back and chest.”

  Ry nodded. “And a black cat appeared on Camryn’s back.”

  Mogens scratched his chin. His skin swirled from black to white and back again. “Anything else?”

  “We can communicate telepathically.”

  Mogens shot him another piercing glance and rubbed his chin again. “Hmmm.”

  “What does it mean?” Ry snapped, starting to feel like one of Mogens’ plant specimens.

  “I’ll need to consult the clouds, but I think you and Camryn have mated.”

  “Mated?” Ry shook his head. “Impossible.”

  “How do you know?” Mogens asked. “You don’t know anything of your species. In all our traveling and searching we haven’t found anyone like you.”

  “Apart from the slave we rescued.”

  “Yes, it was unfortunate we weren’t able to speak with her before she died. Still, I believe the two of you are mated.”

  “I can’t have a mate,” Ry said, shock reverberating through him.

  “But you don’t know for sure,” Mogens pointed out with irrefutable logic.

  “We can’t be mates. I promised Camryn we’ll take her back to Earth once the race is over.”

  “That might prove a problem if you’re mated to her.”

  Grim-faced, Ry continued to pick berries until Mogens decided they’d harvested enough. They ambled back to camp in silence, Ry’s mind circling like a spaceship orbiting a planet. Damnation, he’d promised her.

  Mogens set the buckets of berries aside and made preparations to consult the heavens while Ry decided to indulge his feline in a run. Maybe he could outrun his problems…

  Four days later, steel gray and violet clouds skittered across the sky, cloaking the landscape with dowdiness. Although early in the day, it seemed like dusk. Mogens clucked under his breath and muttered a chant in a strange language of clicks and grunts.

  Despite the strangeness, the vernacular had a lyrical quality. Camryn stroked her hand over Gabby’s glossy neck and laughed when the mare curled her top lip up in pleasure to display her sharp teeth. Without warning her head jerked upward, her ears swiveling forward. She turned her head to stare at the trees on the far side of the lake near the village.

  “Someone is watching us train,” Camryn said, her stomach contracting with foreboding.

  “It’s probably the village children,” Nanu said, looking up from where he worked on creating a set of blinkers for Gabby to wear, made to Camryn’s specifications.

  “No, the children come here to watch and play with Luke. Where’s Ry?” Camryn asked, but she knew where to find Ry. She just hated to admit every sense told her the man wandered through the bush on the lake edge.

  “I don’t know,” Nanu said. “He was checking supplies on the ship.”

  “Never mind. I’ll find him.” Damn, how could she smell him? Imagination? Camryn turned to face the tender and inhaled. She smelled metal, a whiff of sweat and heard a soft curse. Jannike. The soft murmur of a feminine voice told her of Kaya’s presence in the hull of the tender as well. When she inhaled again, she smelled cooking. Her eyes narrowed. Impossible. Unless…disbelief drew her up tall. How could she smell the cooking pots from the village? Camryn turned and drew in the air. Nanu, Gabby, Luke and the seer. She smelled all of them. Ry too. When she turned in the direction Gabby stared, she smelled gun oil, unwashed male bodies.

  “Mogens. Nanu. Take Gabby and Luke to the tender. Now,” she said, wishing they’d hurry instead of staring at her like one of the pouty fish that swam in the lake.

  Mogens shimmered to deep black but instead of flickering back to gray, he remained the color of soot. He muttered, the guttural clicks making the hair on her arms and legs lift.

  Nanu tugged on the collar with the bell they’d made for Luke so it was easy to find him and the foal trotted after the engineer. Gabby gave an inquiring whicker and after hesitating, her ears flickering in the direction of the strangers, she followed Nanu and her foal.

  Camryn strode toward the bush where she thought to find Ry.

  Mogens grasped her arm when she passed, pulling her to a stop. “The ghost cries for you. He mourns.”

  Camryn wrenched her arm free. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You do,” Mogens said, his eyes rolling in the peculiar manner that told her he was in the middle of one of his weird turns. “He mourns. He cries.”

  “I need to find Ry.”

  “Ry is the problem,” Mogens said, waving his hand in front of his chest. “You must move on.”

  “I am moving on,” Camryn said sharply. “I’m going to find Ry.”

  “Something is wrong,” Mogens intoned. “Wrong. Very, very wrong.”

  Urgency pounding through her veins, she ignored the chant Mogens started even though it scared her. Camryn ran through the trees, her gut telling her something bad was about to happen. They needed to leave. They needed to get to safety.

  Now.

  Something was wrong. Ry didn’t know what or how he knew. One moment he enjoyed the play of muscles and the feel of the damp earth beneath his paws and the next sec dread filled him. He skidded to a rustling stop, sliding in the leaf litter to listen. Silence. No birds. No small rodents digging for food.

  Ry wheeled around and galloped toward the tender, instinct telling him he needed to hurry.

  “Ry!”

  Camryn. Panic roared through him. He skidded to a halt, calling up his human form even before he stopped. Panting and out of breath, he almost ran into a tree. He twisted his body and collided with Camryn. They toppled to the ground.

  Blood pooled in his groin when her scent washed over him, and he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her neck. His tongue slid across the fleshy part of her neck and as always, he had the urge to bite. Camryn shuddered and gasped aloud.

  “No,” she said. “There’s someone spying on us. I felt danger. I sent the others to the tender.”

  “What about Gabby and Luke?”

  “Them too. They’re waiting for us.”

  Ry rose in a smooth movement, offering Camryn a hand to help her to stand. He started through the bush at a jog with Camryn racing behind him.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me I’m imagining things?”

  “Nope.” His quick glance showed him Camryn ogled his butt despite her clear worry. He grinned, the desire to preen offset by his apprehension. “Mogens has scanned the clouds all week. He’s black most of the time. I’ve only ever seen him like that once before, not long after I first met him. He saved me from an attack by a rival captain.”

  They burst from the trees. Camryn ran beside him, breathing hard but keeping up.

  A gunshot rang out. Secs later pain lashed across his pectoral muscle and one shoulder. “Faster,” he roared, forcing aside the throbbing threatening to send him to his knees.

  “You’re hurt,” Camryn cried.

  Another shot rang out. This one missed, hitting the ground and sending shards of stone flying through the air.

  “Zigzag,” Ry ordered, pain threading his voice. “Run zigzags so they can’t keep you in their sights.”

  A third shot fired. Ry’s steps faltered. Agony washed through him, and when he glanced down, he saw a furrow through his trews. Hell and damnation.

  Camryn slowed to slip her arm around his waist. “We’re almost back at the tender. Keep going.”

  Hell, his leg stung. He didn’t think they’d done much damage. Blood trickled down his leg with each step though.

  The tender engines started when they neared. The ramp slid down and Jannike sprinted out to help. He wanted to shout at her to stay on board but knew he was putting Camryn in danger. They needed Jannike’s help. When another shot sounde
d, someone in the tender returned fire.

  Jannike and Camryn shouldered most of his weight as they struggled up the ramp into the tender. Ry collapsed onto the floor with a groan. Mogens rushed over with his satchel.

  “Have we got everything on board?” Ry demanded. It was difficult getting the words out, tough focusing.

  He felt the tender take off. “Who’s flying?”

  “Nanu is quite capable,” Mogens said. “Besides, he has Jannike to help.”

  “Not if someone is firing on us. I must help. They probably have ships. They need me.” Ry pushed up with his arms, collapsing when his injured leg refused to work. He cursed as the tender shot upward, the flight path not as level as usual. Ry heard the whine of another shot. An explosion. The tender lurched, sending Camryn off-balance. Ry yanked from Mogens’ touch, attempting to grab her before she hurt herself. The abrupt movement jarred his leg, a sharp shard of pain making him curse. At least he caught Camryn and slipped her against his side, her presence calming him.

  “Let me look.” Mogens made a tsking sound. “The chest wound doesn’t look bad.” Using a knife, he cut Ry’s trews from his leg. “Hold still.” He grabbed a wad of absorbent cloth, wiped away the worst of the blood. “The shot is still in your leg. It’s deep.” He found a pair of pullers, designed to extract splinters or shot, before looking him directly in the eye. “You’ll have to shift.”

  Ry glanced at Camryn. “It will upset Gabby. We can’t have her panicking mid-flight.”

  “As you will.” Mogens probed the wound.

  Ry hissed and squeezed Camryn’s hand tight. “A pox on it.”

  “Won’t take long.” He probed again and yanked out blood-covered lead ball. “It’s out.”

  The tender bucked, tilting at a precarious manner. Ry slid across the floor and Camryn slithered with him. A gun fired.

  “What’s happening?” Mogens shouted so the others could hear.