Alien Intent (Captured by Aliens Book 3)
Page 10
***
“How fares your mission, Captain Tagnon?” Prince Zeta asked as Dar stood stiffly before him in the private meeting room.
He felt perspiration on his brow from the effort of maintaining posture. He’d refused painkillers and was now regretting his decision after making the walk from the hospital to the audience with Prince Zeta and his bride. His stiff collar felt unnaturally tight, and the waistband seemed to squeeze his healing muscles in a vice that disallowed a lungful of air. “It goes as well as can be expected, your highness. She has spirit and resists, but I think she will come around.”
“And you? Have you come to terms with taking on a bride?” Princess Adrienne asked, watching him intently.
The fact that they thought he would succeed gave him a sense of pride. Dar nodded. “Did I have any other choice?”
“That doesn’t sound like enthusiasm. Perhaps another would fare better in your shoes, Captain.”
“Perhaps,” he said tightly. The thought of Jasmine kissing another man enraged him, though he hid it well. Whether she agreed or not, he had every intention of claiming her. The fact was his motives had changed from wanting to succeed on behalf of his prince, to needing her for himself. The realization was daunting.
“I’ve found competition in these matters usually settles things for the best,” Prince Zeta said, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair while a smile played with his lips. He divided his attention between his wife and Dar. Dar couldn’t discern if they were toying with him or not.
Having his love life the subject of royal entertainment was a crippling realization. The end result was all they cared about, whether it was he or another that succeeded did not matter—only that the women became loyal to the land and willing to stay and breed strong stock for the next generation. Jasmine’s affection could easily be snatched from him. He wasn’t certain how he felt about that, but the thought of watching another man attempt to woo her made a strange heat suffuse the top of his head. There was no shortage of men willing and able to sweep her off her feet. She could be seduced by some of the richest in the city, or the fiercest warriors. Anger sparked inside his chest.
Why did these thoughts cause his blood to boil in his veins?
“What is the reason for this requested audience when you clearly should be abed and recovering from your wounds?” Dezec Zeta asked. Beside him, his silent wife draped a hand on his shoulder. The prince touched her hand.
The clear tenderness between them made Dar envious in a way he’d never been before. He gave himself a mental shake, returning to the matter at hand. “On patrol, I found an abandoned mine had been disturbed. Also, the temple at NakSul has been destroyed. The roof collapsed and the offering stolen.”
Princess Adrienne looked confused, but her husband’s eyes widened. “Were there clues who would defile this ancient temple?” Zeta asked.
Dar took a steadying breath. “I found writing scrawled in the stone where the offering had stood for generations. It was in the ancient hand. I believe it was written ‘we come’. We should send our riders to inspect this and perhaps other temples to be certain. It is possible this is only a singular occurrence.”
“Agreed. It warrants further investigation.”
Everyone was quiet. Finally, Prince Zeta spoke. “The old ones will return—we’ve always known we should prepare for that day. We have feared this for years. The king will have no choice but to open the corridor. It could be our only hope for survival. If the old ones are scouting the planet, it is only a matter of time. If it is not they but another, the outcome will be little different.”
“Before what?” Adrienne asked.
Dezec Zeta studied his wife, his eyes tired and sorrowful. “We were their slaves, wife. What does the master do when he returns to find his slaves have usurped his commands and used the land for themselves and not the good of their owner?”
She was quiet, hugging herself after a sudden shiver. “Punish the slaves.”
“Exactly. Keep this matter close to heart, Captain. We need not alarm anyone unnecessarily. Send the scouts. We will proceed with the ball and selections as if nothing has happened. I will personally see the king. No one else is to know until he decides a proclamation should be made. Is that understood?”
“Yes, my prince,” Dar said.
Chapter Twelve
By the time Jasmine realized the hollow steps echoing through the white marble halls were from booted heels and not the quieter slippers of her fellow women, she had nowhere to retreat.
Jasmine froze in the expansive hallway leading from the gardens back to her sleeping quarters. She’d enjoyed her alone time, but now wished she’d had the cover of friends at her side. Every fiber of her being stood in rapt attention, a breathless anxious feeling that she couldn’t shake no matter how hard she tried. Breathing took an effort, and her pulse quickened in her veins.
He’d spotted her, and it was too late to go running back to the gardens without looking like a coward.
Dar stopped round the curve when he locked eyes with her, a smile playing at his lips and his eyes glittering with intent. He raked his gaze once down her body, and she felt it as clearly as a caress. He’d trimmed his silver-streaked black hair and slicked it back from his forehead, and his jaw was clean-shaven. The haggard look of injury was gone, and he was clearly on the mend. His high-collared, black uniform carried not a trace of lint or crease, and his black boots shone under the soft blue lights running along the floor and ceiling. Dressed to the nines. A lady killer. She thought her heart just might stop if he touched her.
She couldn’t help but wonder why he was dressed so formally, unless he’d been at audience with the prince of the city. Surely it wasn’t only to see her…
“I thought I wouldn’t get to see you again until the ball,” he said, leisurely closing the distance.
“Oh? Did you expect my company? You hadn’t asked.” Echoes of prom danced in her head, making her feel silly and juvenile. She laughed nervously, shrugging and side-stepping toward the wall to avoid direct contact. In spite of his recent injury, he stepped in sync with her, placing a hand flat against the wall to keep her from going around.
“I didn’t have the chance,” he said.
“For a man on death’s edge, you move surprisingly well.” She pursed her lips, giving him a look up and down.
“Your sweet kiss saved me from the brink,” he murmured, leaning closer.
She rolled her eyes. “More like a capable doctor. Shouldn’t you still be in the hospital?”
“I’m more or less as put back together as I will be. Why didn’t you come back? You’re avoiding me, aren’t you? Afraid of what I might do?” he asked, arching a thick black brow.
She blew air through her lips at that nonsense. “No,” she said, stepping backward. He followed suit, putting an arm out on that side, effectively using his body as a cage. She leaned back against the cool marbled wall, praying it would soothe her feverish skin. Her prayers went unanswered when he lightly sandwiched her between his hard chest and the wall. She gasped in surprise, making her nipples brush against him.
“Did you miss me?” he said, leaning his head down at an angle, just missing her lips with his mouth. At this proximity she could either look at him cross-eyed, or close her eyes—either one put her at a disadvantage. She closed her eyes and tensed all over, about to snap.
A sweet wine flavored his breath, tantalizing her to taste him. Her lips tingled with awareness. “No,” she said softly.
“Liar,” he ground out, nipping her full bottom lip. His teeth stung and excited her. She sucked her bottom lip. “This pretty mouth was made to torture me. You use it too well.”
“I’m not the one using teeth.” Her breathing quickened.
“Would you, were I at your mercy?” Dar stroked a rough hand up her bare arm, her shoulder, settling on her collarbone in a light, possessive grip. He thumbed the pulse racing beneath the surface. Having her eyes shut heightened her se
nse of touch. “Try, try to run and hide, but you cannot deny this between us.”
“I bet you say that to all the women you conquer.” She shivered, not daring to move for fear of setting him off.
“There is no other. A rare prize worth dying for is worth fighting for. I profess your spirit torments me. Kiss me and deny you want me.”
Every hoarse word he spoke rebounded inside her, making her knees feel weak and her spine like water. She glanced at him and gave him a quick peck on the lips, knowing it was nothing like what he wanted. He looked at her, his eyes dark and fierce like a storm tossed ocean.
“A kiss for a child,” he said with disgust. “Kiss me as your man,” he demanded, gripping her jaw tightly when she attempted to look away. “I will steal it.”
The touch of his lips was as devastating as she refused to remember, only this time he didn’t have the encumbrance of recovery to restrain him. Here was a man in his prime, with a pent-up passion that equaled or surpassed her own. The dark reaches of her mind sang with desire, crumpling under the onslaught of his kiss. She whimpered, parting her lips to his coaxing tongue. A deep thrust plunged him inside, sweeping and voracious.
He bent and gripped her hip, curling down to her inner thigh to part the way. Forcing his pelvis against hers, she lifted onto the tips of her toes as he ground his erection against her groin. Arousal battered her insides—she could feel her pussy get uncomfortably wet at the stimulation. He groaned into her mouth at her near surrender and small, animalistic throat sounds she seemed incapable of stopping.
Ripping his mouth from hers, he kissed her neck and jaw. A hoarse whisper in her ear made her shiver. “Your…room…”
She planted her hands on his chest, arching her back as he ground his hard cock against her clit with sensual promise.
Someone cleared their throat. The effect was like ice water on them both. Dar stepped back, looking guiltily at the interloper. It was Samara and Cyndy, apparently come to look for her since she’d been gone so long. God love them and their misguided attempts at making sure she was safe at all times, but now she hated the interruption.
It took every ounce of will not to cover her face. She felt heat on her forehead and cheeks. Samara and Cyndy smiled knowingly. Dar adjusted his uniform and glanced back at her.
“I left you a gift in your room. Think of me when you wear it.”
She nodded, in a fog, and watched as he spun on his heel and walked away. She couldn’t seem to unpeel herself from the wall. Actually, if it hadn’t been there, she’d be laying on the floor in a puddle. Jasmine wanted to kick someone. This getting amped up for sex and not having penetration was wearing on her nerves something fierce. Samara and Cyndy were cock-blocking and proud of it if the looks on their faces were anything to go by.
“You’re lucky we came by when we did or he’d have ended up screwing you in the hallway. And you’d have let him by the looks of it,” Samara said, hooking an arm through hers. Cyndy took the other arm, leading her back to their quarters.
“Is this how you prevent hooking up with an alien?” Cyndy asked with a laugh.
“Y’all are just a barrel of laughs, aren’t you?” Jasmine griped.
“Just be glad it was us that found you,” Samara said.
They reached their room, curious to see what Dar had left for her. Mai’s abandoned bed—still neatly made—held a long, thin black box which gave no clue of the contents. A clutch of sweet scented blue flowers tied together by a ribbon lay on top of it. It looked like something a secret admirer from her dreams would leave her, except she knew the identity of her admirer.
Samara jumped on the bottom bunk. “Oooh! Open it, Jasmine. I’m hoping for sex toys.”
Jasmine laughed, picking up the box with the flowers. “You would.” She inhaled the flower scent and set them down before returning attention to the box. She was anxious about opening the box in front of her friends. Would it be something intimate, for her eyes alone? Would she be embarrassed to have them see it? The room was small enough she couldn’t exactly hide in the corner, and hiding was clearly not an option with Samara and Cyndy eagerly looking on. She gave it a slight shake but it made no sound or rattle. The box was light, almost empty feeling. Shrugging, she lifted the lid off slowly and gasped as the muted overhead lights glinted on the contents.
“Oh my god,” Jasmine said with wide, unbelieving eyes.
Cyndy and Samara ooh-ed and ahh-ed.
***
Hands gripped Jasmine’s biceps, yanking her out of sleep with vigorous shaking. “Wake up. You sleep when you’re dead!” Samara said in an amused tone of voice, hovering over her with her hair hanging in black tendrils.
Jasmine groaned, swatting her away to roll over and cover her head with a pillow. She wasn’t ready to get up.
“Get out of bed. The dragons filled up the sky and flew off. I watched them go and thought about hitching a ride out of here just so I could avoid this freakin’ party. Oh, and there’s more,” she said in a high sing-song voice.
Normally she was good at ignoring Samara teasing her, but hearing that the dragons were sent flying startled Jasmine out of her stupor. Pulling the pillow off, she blinked through her hair at her cousin. “What the hell is going on?”
“Don’t know. But we’ve got these,” she said, showing off two shiny, palm-sized discs. “It’s credit cards. Every woman in this place has gone shopping. I think it’s like a stimulus for their economy or something. Want to hear the best part?” she said, grinning and handing over a disc.
“I’m afraid,” Jasmine said, sitting up in the bed and rubbing her eyes.
“I found out where lover boy lives. We can go stalk him like teenagers if you want to. He’s on leave. There’s police or guards—whatever they call them—all over the city. We can walk freely. Though, when I think about it, it kind of makes me nervous why they’d do that.”
Jasmine chewed her thumb pad. “For the party I guess.” She had a pretty good feeling the riders were gone to investigate what they’d found at that temple. The implications were unsettling, but she wasn’t going to tell anyone about it. What was the point? It wasn’t like they could go back to Earth.
“You’re probably right. I’ll show you where he lives though. I’m kind of thinking if we’re going to be here a while, I’d like a job. My own money. It would put me in a better position than just taking the first dick offered to me.”
Jasmine nodded. “Miss Independent.”
“I love animals. Even big ones. I think I could handle a dragon.”
“Uh. They ain’t exactly horses. They go really high. But knowing you, you’d probably have one eating out of your hand in a day. I think you’d have more trouble with the men, honestly.” Jasmine snorted and got out of the bed. “I’ll be ready in a minute. Let me comb my hair and shit. Be right back.”
A minute took about an hour, as they both knew. Walking the streets to his housing took another thirty minutes. They’d posted guards by twos every block close to the shopping and eating areas, which gave them both a sense of security. Dar’s street was devoid of foot traffic. Jasmine and Samara posted up across from his house, sitting on a half brick wall that ran the length of the road as far as they could see. They plucked at the leaves of a hedge on the other side, idly shredding each leaf as they waited. After another fifteen minutes, Samara couldn’t take it anymore. She jumped to her feet, fidgeting with the disc in her pocket and patting stray hairs blowing in the wind.
“I’m leaving. Going to go turn in my application then max out this credit card. The economy needs my stimulus.”
Jasmine laughed and shook her head. A quick hug and Samara was off, leaving Jasmine to watch the house alone. It was strangely angled, high on one end and low on the other, the roof slanting, she supposed for rain and inclement weather. All the houses were similar in style, like something from a futuristic retro designer of the sixties on Earth. One large bank of windows covered by a curtain gave no indication anyone was inside. S
he knew, because she’d been staring at the window for most of the time she’d sat outside and it hadn’t so much as flicked an inch.
She wondered what she was doing here, really, echoing the feeling of a stalking teenager with a crush. She crossed the street, strolling up the paved sidewalk and playing with her brushed out curls that floated around her face and neck like a soft halo.
Her heart palpitated as she stopped in front of his door. Was this really his house? She couldn’t imagine Samara leading her astray. She pressed the side of her hand on the glass and stuck her face under it, trying to look through the sheer curtains inside, but it was dark. All she could see was curtain. Maybe nobody was home. Maybe he was shopping, or eating, or out looking for someone easier to get into bed…
Jasmine kicked her toe on the natural stone house, wincing, when she knew she should just kick her own ass for her suspicious way of thinking. Old habits die hard. She trailed her hands along the beige stone, tracing the mortar as she slowly walked to the front door with feet that felt mired in mud. She pressed her palm against the door, finding it to be a cool metal. Her hand having a mind of its own circled the knob and turned.
The door was unlocked and glided open on oiled hinges and a wayward breeze. A lot could be blamed on the wind—like opening the door. She pushed the door open, peeking around the edge, confidence and anxiety at war with each other as she stepped inside the dark room and closed the door behind her. Her ears pricked, trying to detect the slightest sound.
“What are you doing in here?” a voice spoke from somewhere inside.
She nearly jumped out of her skin. A light flicked on and she saw Dar standing in a hallway. He frowned, looking impatient and irritated at having his domain invaded. Seeing she’d found the right house sent relief spiraling through her, and then her anxiousness returned. What was it about him that made all her sense hitchhike out of her brain?