“And how would you know that? I am an alien to you. You have no idea what I may be capable of.”
“Let’s just say I’m a great judge of character.”
Larissalyia could think of nothing to counter his self-assurance. He was right. She could not ruthlessly dispose of him in such a manner. Damn, he did have the upper hand.
She’d be a fool to let him know that. Giving him a cool glance, she said nothing and turned back to the console. Checking their coordinates, she made a few more unnecessary adjustments.
Once again she was aware of his gaze on her. It slid over her like a warm hand gliding down her body. She could almost feel the brush of it and a response sprang to life deep within her. It uncurled deep in the pit of her stomach and spread outward in ever-widening circles. It was not an uncomfortable feeling, just unfamiliar.
Frowning, she glanced over at him once more. He hadn’t moved. He merely continued to watch her with that fathomless expression. A slight smile quirked his lips and drew her gaze to that portion of his face. He had a beautiful mouth. Firm, the lower lip slightly fuller than the upper. It was a mouth made for kissing. Made for pleasure.
“Look, I’ll make you a deal.” He waited until her gaze returned to his. There was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. “I promise to cooperate with you in keeping this F.O.W. ignorant of my presence in the hallowed halls of the known universe, and…”
“And?”
“And in return, you don’t wipe my memory of all of this.”
Larissalyia stared at him, stupefied. “Impossible!”
“Why?”
She blinked. Why, indeed? Standard procedure dictated alien species not sanctioned by the F.O.W. be kept ignorant of the existence of the federation. Harsh penalties ensured this rule was followed. To her knowledge, no one had ever violated the dictum of the Council. Who would know?
But if she agreed with the Earthman, who would know? And was it a gamble she was willing to take?
Although she’d known him a short time, something about Victor MacNaught told her she could believe him. She sensed an honorableness about him that instinctively made her trust him from the moment he held out his hand to her in that bar. In her business she had honed a highly refined instinct when it came to sizing up people. She had never entertained any doubt he was trustworthy.
Still, to take such a chance…?
“This is an adventure of a lifetime, Lacey,” he went on when she didn’t answer. “I want to experience everything I can. Savor it. I don’t want to have all of this wiped from my memory. I don’t want to forget what it looks like to stare out that screen.” He nodded toward the panoramic view, for a moment recapturing the awe of the experience. When he brought his attention back to her, there was something different in his expression. His gaze slowly slid over her face, lingering on her lips with an intensity that made her breath catch and brought a responsive rush of heat. “I don’t want to forget you, Lacey.”
He reached out and took one of her hands, holding it between both of his. He smoothed her fingers open before he slowly raised her hand to his lips to press a tender kiss to the very center of her palm. Larissalyia felt that gentle caress all the way down to her toes. He looked up at her.
“Do we have a partnership?”
“Partnership?” she repeated in a faint voice, completely undone. He was manipulating her. She knew he was, but was powerless to stop him. Didn’t want to stop him.
“I will do whatever you say, behave in any manner you deem appropriate. In return, you don’t remove any of this. I give you my word of honor I will never repeat anything I’ve ever seen or done while I’m with you. Even after I return to Earth.”
“Are you willing to take a blood oath on that?” Larissalyia felt rather than saw Tutsi stir in protest, yet the Mandujano warrior said nothing. Her cheeks heated as she realized she had forgotten all about the presence of the third person on the bridge. Somehow with a few words and a tender gesture, Mac had completely scattered her wits.
“Yes.”
For a moment longer she stared into his eyes, searching for some sign of subterfuge. He gazed back at her, his steadiness convincing her of his sincerity.
Well, she was the gambler here. How could she blame him? In his place, she would do anything possible to hold onto this experience.
Dreams bring passion, passion births lust, lust feeds violence. Violence brings chaos. Chaos stands against The Order.
Tears of Myhu
© 2007 Claire Michaels
What if the truth is locked inside your dreams?
For years Officer Elite Daniel Barrows has fought for his place in The Order, overcoming the bigotry of being born a tribal. His adoptive father rescued him during a devastating raid, but Daniel cannot forget his childhood and the beautiful, enchanting friend who long ago lost her life.
Now in charge of tribal raids for The Order, Daniel’s success is jeopardized when he comes face to face with a mysterious woman. Nya turns his structured world upside down. His draw to her defies all logic, all reason, and goes against everything he was raised to believe.
With Nya’s life in danger, Daniel must choose between duty and what he feels to be right. With that choice, he will discover who he is and find his destiny.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Tears of Myhu:
The girl whimpered again. She gripped her knees and rocked back and forth, attempting to calm herself. She shook uncontrollably.
Daniel reached for her.
“It’s all right,” he said softly.
She looked so small, so vulnerable. So defenseless.
Daniel touched her shoulder. The girl flinched. Startled, she pressed further against the wall. Her eyes looked as wild and desperate as a wounded animal’s.
“I won’t hurt you, I promise,” he reassured her.
She eyed Daniel for a long moment, assessing the sincerity of his words. Slowly, she reached for the arm on her shoulder and took his hand in her small one. Daniel watched silently as she brought his hand in front of her face. She turned it wrist-side-up and studied his brand.
She brushed her thumb lightly against his marking. A strange, tingling sensation coursed through Daniel’s whole system as her gentle and delicate touch enthralled him.
She cocked her head to the side and continued gazing at the mark in silent reverence. Her eyebrows knitted, as if she was struggling with a thought, searching for something just out of her reach.
Daniel felt his heart slam against his chest. His blood roared and pounded in his ears.
“Same,” he finally choked out.
She snapped her head up in surprise.
Daniel took her hand and turned her wrist over, reminding her of the mark on her own delicate skin.
“We have the same brand,” Daniel continued. “I didn’t know there was anyone left of my tribe. I thought they all had perished.”
Daniel stared at her marking, his fingers still encircling her wrist.
“I…I…am sorry I do not remember you. I do not remember much. I know we are close in age. But in truth, I cannot place your face. Are there others left? Did any more of our tribe make it out? I always assumed—”
The girl pulled him toward her. Daniel resisted and tried to pull back, but she grabbed his service suit and yanked him forward. She licked her lips, ducking to capture his mouth with hers.
Daniel’s eyes widened in shock as he shook his head and again attempted to step away. The girl did not relinquish her hold. Using his stupor to her advantage, she deepened their kiss. She let go of his service suit long enough to snake her hands around his neck, moaning throatily against his lips.
It was the moan that did it. All logic and reason had already begun to slip from Daniel’s conscious thoughts, but when she moaned, he was truly lost. Their tongues danced, taunting, teasing each other’s senses, enchanting Daniel further. He inhaled, taking in her scent. She smelled of the desert, spicy, perfumed and exotic. It reminded him of his childhood,
his life before the Order, all the happiness and laughter he’d had when he was young and naive. It made him ache with a pain he had not felt in years.
Something inside him broke and flooded over the walls he’d built up over time. He grabbed the girl by her shoulders and hauled her to her feet. His former disciplined reason helped him pull out of their fevered embrace.
His fists clenched and unclenched reflexively, and his breathing became less frantic as he tried to subdue his rising passion. He could not. She smelled too good, felt too wonderful. She reminded him of everything he had fought so hard to let go of. She was too much like his dreams.
Taking an enormous breath, Daniel began to whisper his mantra.
“Dreams bring passion. Passion births lust. Lust feeds…”
At his muttered words, the girl reached out, her dainty fingers stroking his cheek. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at him questioningly.
“Lust feeds…”
His sight went blurry right before he hauled her into his arms and ravaged her with another all-consuming kiss. Her passion matched his as they both pulled at his service suit and freed Daniel from his garments. The feel of her bare hands on his chest burned his skin. He groaned and pressed her against the wall, wanting to get as close to her as he could. She gasped, tried to catch her breath as the force of his body knocked the wind out of her. Sensing his folly, Daniel pulled away.
“I’m sorry. I…I didn’t mean to be so rough.”
The girl smiled, rewarding his apology with another hungry, sweet kiss. Daniel felt set ablaze, as if a fever had sent him into a state of delirium. She was panting, her breath hot against his throat as she whimpered.
The girl pulled him closer, using his shoulders to lift herself higher, and latched her legs around his waist. Any rational thoughts Daniel might have had were violently shattered as he rested her hips atop his and impaled his length within her. Daniel gasped at the feel of her, gritting his teeth as she enveloped him tightly.
As he ended that first delicious thrust, something tugged against him, tearing in the wake of his passage. The girl cried out in pain and lowered her head against his shoulder, trying to hide her slight moans.
Daniel blinked in shock.
She was untried, unprepared. When mating occurred in functional society, certain measures were taken to make sure the female would not endure such discomfort. The Order sedated women as the natural barrier was extracted, ensuring no pain would ensue from later attempts to produce children.
But she was not part of functional society. She was a tribal—she held this part of herself sacred. Yet, she had given it to him, freely and willingly.
As if she read his thoughts, she raised her head and smiled softly down at him.
Something shattered within him. Her lips trembled and a single tear rolled down her cheek. Yet, for some reason, she was beaming at him.
He supported her hips with one arm and reached up to her face with the other. Gently, he wiped the tear from her cheek.
“Why?” he quietly asked.
It did not make sense. Why had she allowed this, why did she give him something so precious? He was a stranger, nobody to her. Yet she had given herself without restraint.
Her hips jerked, driving him deeper inside, banishing his thoughts. He was completely sheathed, surrounded by her warmth, her acceptance. She kissed him again, using both hands to lift herself up, then slide slowly back down.
Daniel groaned. He pulled back, biting his lip. He tried in vain to hold onto some of his practiced self-control, anything that would lengthen this moment, unwilling to let it end. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tightened her grip.
“Why?” Daniel’s voice filled with desperation.
He needed to know before he threw all he knew about himself away. He needed to understand before she shattered him with her warmth, her scent and her tears.
The girl pulled back to look at him. She tugged at the hand that had stroked her cheek and laid a soft kiss on the inside of Daniel’s wrist.
“Same,” she said, with barely a whisper of sound.
Tales from the Magitech Lounge Page 25