Then he’d come across her, and she’d been watching the two men fucking below. Her lips parted in wonder, large breasts pressed up against the glass window as she strained to see the couple. His control had snapped, and he knew he wouldn’t leave that corridor without having tasted the sin behind her lips.
He shook his head, as if the harsh movement would rid her from his thoughts once and for all. The next hour would be the true test. Once he met with the Council and—if all went well—he had Talia alone, then he could begin retribution of her abrupt and callous dismissal of him. Then she would realize he was anything but a nobody.
“You are an outsider. Please present your badge, sir.”
Ryder glanced up and met the empty gaze of one of the corridor droids. He pulled his visitor’s pass from the pocket in his suit and allowed the droid to scan it.
“Alan Worthington. Thank you. Enjoy your visit to the governing headquarters.”
The droid’s buttons lit up as he floated past him and down the corridor.
Ryder slipped the pass with the fake identity back into his pocket. So far the initial phase of the plan had gone smoothly, but the real test was what he was about to do.
As he wandered the headquarters to pass the time before his appointment, he felt no fear, only confidence and the knowledge that his planet’s survival rested on the success of this mission.
Talia entered the Council’s chamber one hundred percent in control of her emotions again. Ramirez and Franklin sat on the couch with mugs of coffee in their hands, while Victor paced in front of the windows that looked out over the city park.
“The amount Mr. Worthington is willing to invest in the weapons program is astronomical,” Ramirez was saying. “I feel it is in our best interest to encourage him by any means necessary.”
Victor sighed and then nodded. “Yes, yes, I quite agree.”
“I don’t know.” Franklin stood, having caught sight of her, and crossed the room toward her. “I’m still not certain we can trust this man.”
Tension ran through her body as he suddenly pulled her hard against him. The breath caught in her throat as he grabbed the hem of her dress and jerked it above her hips. His fingers plunged between her legs.
A slow satisfied smile spread across his face. “You are dry.”
She swallowed hard, grateful that she’d taken a few moments to compose; and clean herself after the intimate moment with the strange man in the hall.
She lowered her gaze. “Of course. Did you think I would not be? I was away from you three.”
“Yes, you were.” Franklin’s tone indicated he didn’t trust her, and his fingers moved a bit more roughly inside her.
“Franklin,” Victor’s voice held a warning. “We agreed to keep things on a lighter note this afternoon with Natalia, due to our meeting.”
“Yes. So we did.” Franklin released her with narrowed eyes and the hem of her dress fell back to the floor.
She was unable to stop her shoulders from sagging with relief. His touch, even as he’d stroked her clitoris, had failed to bring forth any arousal.
Had he kept his fingers within her long enough to discover her lack of desire, there would have been anger and endless questioning.
Fortunately, “lighter note” meant keeping their attention above the waist. There would be no more little tests any time soon.
“How did Mr. Worthington come about his riches?” Franklin queried. “Surely he is not old money?”
Ramirez made a loud snort. “Old money? I think not.” He patted the couch and gestured for Talia to come sit beside him. “The man has made an obscene fortune as an oil tycoon on the planet Earth.”
Automatically she crossed the room and sat down on the white leather couch, curling her legs under her bottom.
“Earth,” Franklin grumbled. “That shithole? Now I really don’t trust him.”
“What’s not to trust?” Ramirez reached behind her and unbuttoned her dress, pulling the fabric down to bare her breasts. He caressed the right breast, toying with the nipple. “If the man is willing, then by gods we should do it.”
“It doesn’t seem odd to you?” Franklin demanded, but his glare was targeted on her.
Talia lowered her gaze. It was apparent he wasn’t pleased that he’d been forced to release her, yet Ramirez took the liberty to fondle her breasts.
Her stomach knotted and heaviness settled in her heart. How many more hours were in this day until once again the men had taken their pleasure with her and she was granted the freedom to sleep? To drift off into that alternate reality where she could be free for the six hours of sleep—monitored by Dane—that she was allotted.
“Look, gentlemen, the bottom line is Mr. Worthington is considering making an offer to back our expansion in our weapons and military.” Victor shook his head. “Without that backing, the planet’s deficit will quadruple by the time our attack on Belton is complete.”
“Yes, but what does Mr. Worthington gain by doing this for us? Surely he wants something in return.”
Victor was silent for a moment. “He would like to become the fourth member of the Governing Council.”
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Franklin demanded. “No. Absolutely not. We make the attack with the resources that we have—”
“I agree with Victor,” Ramirez interrupted quietly. “We have little choice.”
The intercom buzzed, stopping any response Franklin may have had.
Victor walked around to his desk and pressed a button. “Yes?”
“Alan Worthington has arrived for your meeting,” a gruff voice announced.
“Give us two minutes and then send him in.”
Victor walked back to the center of the room and looked at the other two men.
“Are we agreed that we will do whatever it takes to gain Mr. Worthington’s backing?”
“Reluctantly,” Franklin muttered. “You know my thoughts.”
“I am in agreement.” Ramirez nodded and squeezed her nipple between his fingers one last time. “Cover yourself, Natalia.”
She nodded, closing her eyes against the threat of tears. Why was it so much harder today to bear the Council members’ touches? She slipped her arms back into the sleeves of the dress, and the door swished open as she reached behind her to button it.
“Welcome, Mr. Worthington,” Victor boomed in a bright voice. “Thank you for coming today.”
“No big deal, boys. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”
Talia’s muscles tensed and the blood drained from her face. He was Alan Worthington? She lifted her gaze and saw it was indeed him: the man from the hallway. But his voice was different. He had an accent that she hadn’t noticed earlier. He still wore the suit, but now had some strange-looking hat on his head. It looked familiar, like the same style she’d seen in old Western movies.
He was watching her in such an intimate way that she was certain the Council would notice. Would he expose the two of them? Terror clawed at her throat and her nails dug into the arm of the couch.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty thing?” he drawled and winked at her.
She was as good as dead! It was a miracle she hadn’t fallen to the ground in a faint. Her pulse throbbed. She was sure the frantic beat of her heart could almost be seen through the silk of her dress.
“Yes, she is.” Victor’s voice held a bit of an edge, but then he smiled. “Natalia, please bring in more coffee for the Council and our guest.”
She gave a jerky nod and stood, her legs wobbly as she made her way out of the chamber. In her mind, she prepared for the severe punishment that doubtless would come.
Ryder watched her leave the room, her head held high and her ass swinging lusciously. His eyes narrowed when the doors swished shut behind her.
Talia. Or no, Natalia. It took everything in his power to not allow himself to get a mammoth-sized hard-on. He knew his interest in her was not discreet, but then that was not necessarily a bad thing. Though the sensual Rosabelle had no idea, she would be the key game piece in his plan.
“You seem quite interested in Natalia.”
Yes, I am. He turned to face the man who’d spoken. Victor Owens. One of the Council members and the man behind so much destruction and violence. It would be all too easy to simply kill the man now—all three of the men, actually.
He had officially infiltrated the highest-ranking form of government on this small planet; the opportunity was perfect. But it would also diminish his chances of leaving this building alive.
“She’s a hot filly,” Ryder replied with a broad grin.
“Hot filly?” The man on the couch—Franklin, he knew from the file they had on him—stood and approached him.
“Well, sure. Meaning she’s a beauty.” Ryder scratched the back of his neck. “We got the same problem back home that you folks got. The women all started dying off ’bout a couple hundred years ago. Sure, we got a few. But I don’t think I’ve ever been with a woman who didn’t look like horse manure.”
Franklin’s mouth twisted with obvious disgust. Good. It meant they believed him to be what he portrayed: just a horny, dumb, oil tycoon.
“Why don’t we get down to business, gentlemen?” Ramirez spoke from the couch. “Have you considered our offer, Mr. Worthington?”
“Yeah, I’ve been considering it.” He shook his head. “But I’ll be real honest with you boys. I’m not so certain that I won’t be getting the short end of the stick.”
“We have agreed to your terms. What more could you possibly want?”
Ryder’s lips curled into a smile and he glanced toward the door Talia had just exited. “Well, now that you’re asking…”
Talia took a deep breath as she made her way back down the corridor. Her pulse still raced, her stomach felt all fluttery.
Would the man—Mr. Worthington—have told them what had happened between the two of them? Surely he wouldn’t be that stupid. She had warned him that his punishment could be death. And if they were to learn that their precious investor had forced a kiss on her…by gods it would not be pretty.
She balanced the four mugs on a tray with one hand and used the other to press the code to enter the Council’s chamber.
The doors slid open with a hiss and she stepped into the room. Immediately she noticed the change in dynamic. It was uncomfortably quiet, and all eyes focused on her as she made her way across the floor.
“Your coffee,” she murmured, lowering her gaze as she set the tray down on Victor’s desk. “Mr. Worthington, do you take cream and sugar?”
“Always with cream.”
She looked up. The way he’d said that made the word cream seemed dirty. His gaze bore into hers, and her hand that held the pot of coffee trembled.
“Do we have a deal, boys?” He spoke to the other men, but never took his eyes off her.
His question was met with a heavy silence. She paused in the midst of pouring the coffee and glanced over at the Council. Something was wrong. All three appeared reluctant to answer, but Franklin appeared absolutely livid as well.
Victor finally gave a terse nod. “Yes, Mr. Worthington. You have a deal.”
The words chilled her and a sense of foreboding took root.
“That’s right decent of you.” He grinned and then crossed the room toward her. “Oh, and I should warn you, I like things a bit rough.”
A strangled gasp escaped her throat as he reached out and cupped the back of her neck. Her gaze flew to the Council, sure they would be reaching for their weapons.
Ramirez nodded. “You may use her as you wish, but do not leave lasting marks.”
Use her as you wish. The words spun in her head. Use her as you wish.
“Victor?” Her voice cracked as she turned to the head Council member.
He ignored her, instead keeping his focus on Alan Worthington. “The agreement is for two hours.”
“Sounds great, boys. And we can use her bedding unit?”
“Ramirez?” She tried to get the older man’s attention, but he lowered his gaze. “What is happening? Please, someone explain.”
“I’ll explain, princess.” Mr. Worthington touched her cheek, his face so close to hers she could see the mocking amusement in his eyes. “I get to do whatever the hell I want with you for the next two hours.”
The room spun and she was unable to breathe. No…. He had permission to bed her? Heat spread through her body as she thought of that moment they’d shared in the hall. How firm and confident his mouth had been on hers, how knowing his fingers. How he’d coaxed a fire within her that she had never experienced.
That one encounter had lasted less than ten minutes, yet had subtly changed her ability to respond to the Council’s touches. Two hours with him would ruin her for good, which could only lead to the most hellish of punishments.
“No.” She shook her head and fled across the room, falling at Victor’s feet. “Please, no.”
“Stand up.” He jerked her to her feet, looking annoyed. “You’re disgracing yourself.”
“Please. You cannot mean to do this….” She was babbling, tears in her eyes now.
Never had they given her away for another man’s personal use. The thought of it sickened her, validated the term of whore Alan Worthington had called her earlier.
She shook her head. “I can’t do this. I won’t.”
A hand gripped her elbow, spinning her around. She noted Franklin’s furious glare before his palm slapped across her cheek. Her head snapped to the side, the sudden stinging pain shocking her into silence.
Her gaze connected with Alan’s and she didn’t miss the anger that flashed in his narrowed gaze or the tightness around his mouth.
“Franklin,” Victor protested.
“No, she must learn.” Franklin gripped her shoulders and glared down at her. “You have no freedom, my dear. You are our possession. And if we decide to lend you out for a business deal or even to the Council’s entire army, you will spread your legs without protest.”
Everything inside her went numb. Her emotions went strangely flat. She was a whore. She was. Stick the term Rosabelle on her all you want, she was a whore.
“I will take Natalia to her bedding unit now,” Alan said and crossed the room, sliding an arm around her waist.
She didn’t protest; was almost grateful for his strength that held her upright.
“Now?” Victor’s voice rose. “What guarantees do we have that you will not take use of Natalia and then go back on your word to back us?”
Almost to the door, he stopped them and turned around. “I have instructed my accountant to tran
sfer five million tremas to your account in one hour as a gesture of goodwill.”
Victor gaped, practically salivating. “I see. Well—”
“If you haven’t got the money after one hour, then come get me.” His grip around her waist tightened. “But only if it hasn’t arrived. I plan to have the fuck of a lifetime with this little filly, boys.”
Little Filly? Some of the numbness dissipated and Talia blinked. Fuck of a lifetime? Anger filtered through her blood and she clenched her teeth. She would not make this easy for him. To hell with the punishment she’d receive later.
“So unless you boys have any more protests, I’m going to make use of my gift here.” Alan smacked her ass and then squeezed the flesh, his palm nearly covering an entire cheek.
Her blood burned hotter. What weapons were in her room? To be more exact, what would be best to gouge his eyes out?
“No, no more protests, Mr. Worthington.” Ramirez went back behind his desk and began toying with his computer. “Enjoy your time with Natalia. You’ll find her quite agreeable.”
“Thank you much, boys.” Alan tipped his hat and then led her out the doors into the corridor. He leaned down, his quiet voice tickling her ear. “I promise that he will pay for hitting you. Lead me to your room, princess.”
Why did he care if the Council hit her? “Do I have any choice?”
“No, Talia. You don’t.” All lightness in his tone vanished and it almost sounded as if his accent had disappeared for a moment.
But wait, that made no sense. Confusion warred with her frustration.
“Don’t call me Talia,” she muttered, attempting to pull away but his grip simply tightened.
“In the corridor you told me that was your name.”
Her laugh rose to semihysterical. “In the corridor I was out of my mind.”
“Perhaps you were in the state of mind you have always deserved to be in.”
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