by Lynn Best
“What was it?” she asked.
“What?”
“The poem.”
“Whitman.” He gripped another book in his large fist. Without even a glance at her, he left.
She followed him.
After he made the door start opening, he whirled. “What are you doing?”
Charis skidded to a stop, trying not to cower beneath his anger. “Do you yell at everyone?”
He shook his head. “No, just ridiculous girls who get in my way.”
“I’m in your way? Well, just send me back home then.” She put a hand on her hip, trying to look demanding.
“Believe me, I wish I could. Save me a lot of trouble.”
“Then do it,” Charis taunted. “You are the king, aren’t you?”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “And as I am the future king, don’t you think you owe me more respect?”
“I owe you respect? You took me from my world, and you are keeping me against my will. That, my friend, is called kidnapping.”
He frowned. “You aren’t a kid. You are a woman.”
“It’s just called that, but anyway. The point is I am here as a prisoner. An abductee.”
“That’s all Bram. Talk to him about it.” With a palm press, he sealed himself in the room. It was as close to slamming the door in her face as one could get around here.
“Coward!” she yelled, not knowing if he could hear her or not.
She stared at the wall for a few moments until it was clear he was not going to open up. With a scowl, she kicked it before plodding back to the front room and the bookshelf.
Standing in front of the amazing collection, she ran her fingers over the books. She picked out a few of the ones with unreadable symbols, thumbing through them as her thoughts rambled on. He had been touching her. And where he’d touched was where the amazing tingles had originated. But now her head was throbbing again, and she was angry. Angry at how he turned everything into a fight. How he was mad all the time. She’d just asked about the poetry he was reading to her, and it had turned into a fight. Han had a gift for pissing people off.
She snagged the closest book she could find with familiar words. It was The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. She began to read, though her mind wasn’t really on the words. She kept reliving the moment before he’d known she was awake. He’d been a different Han then. She was sure he’d been touching her to relieve her pain while she slept off the injury. Or he had only done it because he could feel her pleasure, and it was a selfish act.
Maybe he didn’t care about making her feel good at all. Only himself.
As she was mulling this over, the far wall slid open. Bram appeared on the other side.
“Sire, you called? Is the deed done?” Bram strode in, clothed in a shirt that matched the one she was still wearing and the same white pants. Where she was a bedraggled mess, his hair looked professionally coifed, and his lips sparkled like he was wearing lip gloss. Back on Earth, her friend, Pete, would have joked the man made his gay-dar chime.
“Oh,” he said, seeing Charis. “It’s you.” Deflated, he flicked his gaze around the room. “Where is the king?”
“The future king?” Charis thumbed behind her. “Pouting in his room.”
“So you two haven’t…” He made a vague sexual gesture with his hands that Charis had last seen in the high school cafeteria.
“What are you, fifteen?” She shook her head. “And, no. Not even close. He hates me.”
Bram blew out a frustrated sigh. “Well, just look at your attire. If you want to impress the most important being in the galaxy, that is not how you go about doing it.” He gestured at her stretched-out T-shirt.
“What did you expect me to do? My clothes were ripped off when I got here, remember? And who has the time to go shopping?” she replied with extra snark.
Bram practically sashayed over to the wall. Heck, even my gay-dar is going off, Charis thought, smothering a giggle.
He started tapping on the surface, causing the sections to glow red and green. Soon, the wall beside Charis opened. Shimmering gowns in a rainbow of colors hung in neat rows.
“How did you do that?” She gaped at the closet, marveling.
“We are an advanced species. Our technology vastly exceeds your own. I would not expect you to understand.”
She gave him a look. “I might not have majored in quantum mechanics, but I’m not an idiot either.”
He ignored her. “We will get you dressed, and then style your hair. It will be difficult, but it will be an improvement.” Bram studied her like she was a canvas he was working on.
She held out her hands, shaking her head. “I don’t really do dressing up.”
After rolling his eyes, he yanked out a navy floor-length evening gown with a plunging neckline, followed by a maroon and black ankle-length strapless dress in the current high/low style. Both looked like they were made for Hollywood runways. Both would look ridiculous on Charis.
Holding them up to her frame one at a time, he declared blue her color and forced it on her. When she protested, he gave her a disappointed schoolmarm look until she tried it on. Sucking in a deep breath, she managed to zip it. After, Bram spent at least an hour styling her hair and applying makeup. Charis sat stonily through it all, feeling like a poodle on a grooming table. This was ridiculous. Han wouldn’t care. And did she even want him to? He was mean and intolerant.
Now Rahan or Kahn? She might want them to see her like this.
Bram positioned her beside a blank wall, and then did some of his magic tapping. The surface transformed into a mirror so she could see the big reveal.
She had to admit, she did look pretty incredible. The last time she remembered being this dolled up was for a friend’s wedding two years ago.
Her hair was curled in soft ringlets that were pinned at the nape of her neck, some spilling down her bare shoulders. The navy dress hugged every curve, and the sloping neckline showed off what little cleavage she had. Her makeup was flawless. She felt like Jennifer Lawrence in those Hunger Games movies. And Bram was her Cinna.
But that made her think about being fed to monsters who wanted to kill her. She was dressed like this in order to be offered like a sacrificial lamb to Han.
“I am not some treat to be waved under his nose,” she murmured.
“What?” Bram said, a bobby pin in his teeth, his eyes fixed on a strand of hair that had come undone.
“I am not a trophy,” she said, louder.
Bram shoved the bobby pin in her hair none to gently. “Look, Charis, I know this is not ideal. It is not for me, either. Do you know how many willing women we have trotted in front of him who begged him to keep them?”
“So, I should be grateful?” she asked, her voice rising incredulously.
“No, no, no,” he said, rephrasing. “I am saying that he is a catch. He may be surly, but if you get to know him, you will see how kind he is, how generous. A diamond in the rough, as your people say.”
“What about him is diamond-like again?”
“I have known him for decades of earth time. He is one of the most generous and thoughtful people I have ever known.” Bram’s expression was serious.
“But you’re paid to say that, aren’t you?” Charis had a tough time believing it.
Bram shook his head. “I am not paid. It is my duty to serve the royal family until I die.”
“Tough gig,” Charis said.
“Attempt a connection, okay?” Bram touched her shoulder. “Be cordial to him. Speak to him.”
“How? All he does is yell at me.”
“Persevere. He will give in. And when he sees you in this dress…” He put his fingers to his mouth and pulled them away, making the sound a chef makes when he’s constructed a masterpiece.
“If I try, really try, will you let me go home?”
Bram tilted his head as if mulling it over. “Give it a week and yes. But you have to really try.”
“Two days,” she bargain
ed.
“Three days. And you have to get him to kiss you.” Bram raised an eyebrow.
Charis shook her head. “That’s too steep a bargain.”
“Kiss, or no deal.” Bram turned and walked away, pausing at the door. “Three days, Charis. You need to try your absolute best. And if you do, and you still want to go, I promise I will let you. Deal?”
“Fine, deal,” she huffed.
“Perfect. But we need a better setting. This is so drab. I have an idea. Someone will come by to get you both soon. Be prepared.”
“What are we going to do?” she called, but Bram was already gone.
Charis walked over to the wall bench, and slid down on it. She had to get the meanest man she’d ever met to kiss her in three days’ time. But if she did, she could go home. God, if only she’d done more flirting in high school.
This was not a task she felt up to.
Still, she was not one who backed down from a challenge. She’d contracted mono her senior year and missed twenty-seven school days, but she’d still managed to fight her way back to magna cum laude at graduation. And when her grandpa died two days before her exit exam, she’d passed it with flying colors before driving to his funeral.
Sucking in a deep breath and smoothing her hair, she headed to where she knew Han to be.
Finding the patch of wall he’d disappeared behind, she pressed her hand to it. To her surprise, it opened.
Han’s room was dim, but not as dark as before. He stood like a lone oak on the other side of the room, staring out at the stars. Half turning to her, he frowned. “What happened to your clothes?”
She ran a shaky hand down the dress, knowing she was blushing. “Bram thought…”
“He thought he’d dress you up and offer you to me on a plate?” Han asked, sounding unamused.
Jesus, he did not mince words. But she needed to try if she was going to get him to kiss her. “He thought I could use something other than a ratty old T-shirt to wear.” She adjusted the strap on her shoulder.
He sniffed and turned back to the window.
Charis clasped her hands in front of herself, fidgeting. “What are you looking at?”
“Stars,” he answered, sounding bored.
“Any in particular?”
“No.”
This could not be going more poorly. Charis took a step into the room. Then another. Han ignored her. “I never thanked you for reading me that poetry. Or for getting me off the floor when I fell. I assume that was you, anyway.”
He made a sound in his throat that could have been a confirmation.
She strode up until she was within arm’s reach. God, the view from this window was amazing. There was Earth, the small blue sphere just to the left. How many people had seen their planet from this great height? A handful? The earth, and the billions of people on it, looked tiny and insignificant. Charis allowed herself to take one big breath.
“It’s incredible,” she murmured.
He glanced over his shoulder, nodding. His face wasn’t angry. He seemed almost calm. She reached out a hand, and then touched his bare forearm.
The jolt was instant—heat and tingles that shot down her fingers, into her arm, and flooded her chest. Her head felt suddenly light, her legs weak, as the surge of pleasure pumped through her body like blood. As she revealed in it, forgetting everything else, she let the pain and hurt of the last few days wash away. It felt so good. Like the last few seconds before an orgasm ended.
He yanked his arm away, abruptly cutting off their connection.
“Do not touch me without permission,” he growled, glaring.
She took a frightened step back. “Sorry.”
“I know what he told you to do,” Han continued. “You can forget it. I’m not so easily seduced.”
He glowered, body taut, but she was too frightened to move. It was like jumping from the best feeling to the worst.
“Go!” he yelled.
She felt tears on her cheeks. Turning, she ran.
But she didn’t have far to go. The suite was small, and there was no exit. She hurried to the far wall, the one that opened to the outside, and stood with her back to it, chest heaving. How could touching him feel so good, yet any other interaction with him feel so bad?
As she contemplated this, the wall behind her shifted under her hands. Surprised, she whirled to see the material dissipating. Rahan was revealed on the other side.
Mischievously, he put his finger to his lips, grabbed her hand, and pulled her through. The wall soundlessly sealed again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
She stood in the hallway with Rahan, surprised and not sure what to do next.
“Little doe, you look absolutely stunning,” he said, winking one of his sparkling blue eyes. “I couldn’t let you waste it in there.” His eyes skimmed her body, and then he nodded to Han’s suite.
“But what if he finds out?” she whispered, fear starting to creep in.
“Han has an important meeting with his mother starting right now. We have at least thirty minutes before anybody has time to look for us. Come on.” He tugged her toward the long stretch of hallway.
Charis hesitated. To go home, she had to get Han to kiss her, not Rahan. But Han was terrible. She couldn’t stand the thought of being in that room with him any longer. And Rahan was the captain of the ship. If he wanted to, couldn’t he take her home?
Throwing caution to the wind, Charis took Rahan’s outstretched hand, running beside him.
It was exhilarating being out of Han’s room. But as they tore down hallways, Charis worried they’d be caught. Every voice made her heart skip, but Rahan was adept at keeping them out of sight. He seemed to know what tunnels to take, even though they all looked the same to Charis. Soon, he stopped them in front of another long stretch of glowing white wall.
“What’s this?” she asked, breathless.
“You’ll see,” he said, an eyebrow arching. When he pressed his massive hand to the wall, the space disappeared.
Inside looked like a posh nightclub’s VIP lounge. Everywhere was velvet—red curtains, purple velvet couches, a lush gray carpet that caressed her feet as they entered in, the door dematerializing behind them.
Holding her hand, Rahan led her further in, giving her time to check out her surroundings. There was a mahogany bar with stainless-steel bar stools, a disco ball that danced gentle light around like a spray of stars, and quiet music playing the background that seemed to relax Charis’s shoulders. She peered up at him.
His impish face took in the splendor like he was seeing for the first time too. “Do you like it?”
“Of course. What is this place?” she asked.
“I made it for you.” He stared at her hungrily.
“For me?” Charis looked around again, stunned.
Rahan nodded, looking around at his handiwork. “I said to myself, ‘What would Charis like?’ Was I right?”
She nodded, biting her lip. “No one has ever made a room for me before.”
“The first of many, little doe.” He pulled her in, sliding his hands down the silken fabric at her back. Chill bumps raced up her spine at his touch. She felt her anticipation building.
He pulled her in close, skimming his fingers along her bare skin. “After our time in the pool, all I could think about was you.”
Her heart started to race, and she practically drowned in the hot depths of his eyes. His hard body was so close to hers, and he smelled like a mix of evergreen and rain. He ran a finger down her cheek before tugging at a wayward curl. “You look good enough to eat. Did Han tell you that? I bet he didn’t say a word, the brute.”
“If we’re caught together, you’ll get in a lot of trouble.”
He tilted his head as if he was thinking about kissing her. His eyes roved over her face, his fingers skimmed dancing down the sensitive skin at the back of her neck. “Hmm. I think this is worth the risk.”
“No, really. He can feel my feelings.”
; Rahan shook his head. “Not in here. I have made sure this place can block any empathic powers my brother may have. You have no worries, Charis of Earth.”
Without permission, he kissed her.
The press of his lips on hers felt amazing. His hand at the small of her back urged her closer until their bodies melded. She could feel his excitement growing, hardening and thickening against her belly. Hers was growing, too. A rush of wetness between her legs reawakened the delicious tingling. Her nipples beaded, grazing against the smooth fabric of her dress. His fingers traced her skin in smooth circles, making her shiver.
“We don’t have much time,” he whispered after releasing her mouth. He bent to trail kisses along her neck. His lips brushed the skin of her collarbone. “Tell me what you like.”
“What?” she murmured, dazed.
“What do you like? What fantasies do you have? I can make them happen for you, little doe.” He pulled down one strap of her dress, exposing her shoulder and making the neck of her dress plunge dangerously. Her breasts were bare behind the sagging fabric, and it thrilled her.
Charis stuttered. “I don’t know.”
Rahan bent and kissed along her collarbone and the tops of her breasts, making her arch and yearn for more. “You don’t know? Well, we should find out. Do you think it’s having others watch as you moan and beg me for more?”
He snapped his fingers. Charis started as people began to emerge from a doorway on the far side of the room. Two men and a woman made their way to one of the velvet couches across from them and sat, staring at them expectedly.
Charis didn’t know what to think. She was shocked and confused. None of this was anything she’d ever considered, but as Rahan slid his hand down her barely covered breast, squeezing it firmly, she locked eyes with one of the men. He was watching them intently.
And it turned her on.
She didn’t know these people. She would never see them again. What consequences could there be if she indulged on an alien spaceship? None to her knowledge. And Han was preoccupied.
She looked at the people again. They were watching as Rahan stroked her breasts. And they liked what they saw.