Placed quickly onto her feet, she was still trying to regain her balance while the door was locked.
“Darvk!” Leaping forward, she pounded on it. “Let me out!”
“Sorry, lass.” She heard him chuckle. “Go and get some rest.”
Savagely, she kicked the door before throwing herself onto the bunk to glare up at the ceiling.
~ * ~
Darvk took a long swallow of ale and sighed with pleasure. This was the life. Good friends, good ale, and willing wenches.
Maverk plopped down on the opposite bench, pulling a well-rounded, giggling tavern wench onto his knees. “Darvk, this here is Gertie and her friend, Nina.”
“Where?”
“Right here, lover,” a voice crooned in his ear, while soft arms curled around his neck from behind.
Reaching around, he pulled the redheaded wench with sultry brown eyes to his side.
“My, but you Daamen traders are big.” She wet her lips with her tongue. “Care for a little attention, Captain?”
He grinned. This was just what he needed, a sweet mouth and a more than willing wench. “Lead on, sweet lass, and you can give me attention.”
Taking his hand, Nina led Darvk to the rickety staircase. The stairs creaked alarmingly as the couple mounted them. At the top they turned into a room containing a big bed and several sturdy wooden chairs, all roughly made with more thought to hard wear than appearances.
Dropping down in one of chairs, he settled back lazily.
The redhead smiled at him. “Nina’s my name and pleasuring is my game. What’s your pleasure, big boy?”
He winked. “Depends on what game you’re playing.”
She laughed throatily, one hand going to the low-cut blouse to undo the buttons slowly. He followed the movements of her hands, noticing the softness.
Tenia had small calluses on her palms.
He shook his head. Now why was he thinking about that belligerent little wench? He was here to enjoy himself, damn it.
“Come here.” He crooked his finger at Nina, who fluttered her lashes coyly.
She edged closer and he grabbed her skirt, tugging her down onto his lap. She giggled when he nuzzled her throat and delved his hand into her blouse to cup a breast.
If he’d cupped Tenia’s large, firm breasts - he couldn’t help but notice that with the tight bodices she wore - he’d have been swallowing his own teeth within seconds.
Blast it, I’m here to get laid, not think about that wench!
“Hey, gently there, big boy!” Nina playfully slapped his hand. “I know you’re anxious and all.”
“Sorry,” he muttered and pulled her down for a kiss.
Her lips were warm and soft, but somehow they lacked something, and she smelt of cheap perfume. Tenia always smelled clean and fresh, the soap she used the only scent on her skin. Jasmine soap that Lica had provided for her.
All desire for the tavern wench fled. Bloody hell!
Lurching to his feet, Darvk nearly spilled her to the floor. Quickly, he grabbed her.
“Here!” She peered up in bewilderment. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I guess I’m more weary than I thought.”
Bewilderment turned to suspicion. “You ain’t got no disease, have you? No oozing sores on your coc-”
“Nay!” Horrified, he searched for a plausible excuse. “I just…ah…don’t function well…”
“Don’t function?” Her wide eyes dropped to his crotch.
“I mean, I don’t think I can handle you without a few more drinks first.” He tried to leer. “Too much wench for me right now. Need to get my courage up, so to speak.”
She wasn’t appeased; he could tell by the calculating way she eyed him. It was humiliating that he couldn’t function as he normally would, happy to have a lusty roll in the bed with a willing wench. It was doubly so that she thought him diseased. Stars, he took precautions and had a SteriImplant to prevent both STDs and fertility.
With what little dignity he had left, Darvk went back down into the main tavern.
~ * ~
When Maverk came down the stairs an hour later, it was to find Darvk staring moodily into an untouched mug of ale.
“Why so glum, friend?” He took the bench opposite. “Didn’t get lucky with Nina?”
“Never mind. Something on my mind.”
Maverk ordered a drink from a passing tavern wench and surveyed the hard looking patrons. It was one of the rougher taverns where they could wench, drink, and fight with no worries. Normally his friend was right in the thick of it all, and certainly wouldn’t have left the tavern whore for another hour at least.
“I wonder how Tenia’s doing?” He asked slyly.
“Little troublemaker. She’s so damn stubborn.” Darvk swallowed a deep, fortifying gulp of ale.
“Why don’t you just hand her over to the Inka Empire if she upsets you so much?”
Darvk glared at him. “Would you do that?”
“Nay.”
“Nay. I just need to be firmer with the hellion. Aye, starting tomorrow, she’ll see that she can’t push me!”
“She’s pushing you? I thought she was biddable.”
“Don’t smirk.”
“Interesting times ahead, then.”
Satisfied with his plan and feeling immensely better, Darvk whistled to a young, blonde tavern whore who immediately abandoned the small, weaselly looking man she was sitting on, and hurried over to the dangerously handsome giant.
“You called?” she purred.
Darvk whacked her bottom heartily. “I’m suddenly feeling much stronger! Let’s go and-”
“Hey!” The small man got to his feet, his beady eyes glaring. “That’s my whore!”
“’Tis no way to talk about a wench.” Darvk stood up and flexed his muscles. “Besides, you’re so small I doubt your prick would get halfway in.”
Maverk grinned as four of the man’s cronies got to their feet. One was a hulking brute with a patch over one eye.
“You’re asking for trouble, trader!”
The tavern went quiet and breaths were held. Anticipation filled the air.
Maverk’s jeering voice carried through the stillness. “Are we going to fight the little prick and his little friends?”
The hulking brute gave a sneer. “The loudmouth is mine.”
“Be gentle with me.” Maverk batted his eyelashes.
At this insult the brute rushed forward. Darvk let out a bellow, and his crew, both at the bar and in the rooms above, saw or heard the commotion. It wasn’t long before they joined in the fray.
It turned into a free for all, as every rowdy in the tavern turned on each other for past grudges, real and imagined.
The traders were outnumbered, but their sheer strength and build more than made them equal to the task. Besides, next to wenching, brawling was their next favourite pastime.
Darvk chuckled just before he got hit on the cheek, then he swore and broke the hulk’s nose.
Chapter 3
Lying back on the bunk, hands behind her head and ankles crossed, Tenia was contemplating the ceiling when she heard the click as the door was unlocked. That meant that all the traders were on board and the ship securely shut for the night along with the security screen set. There’d be no escape attempt now, not with the lockdown. The Daamens took security seriously, locking down the big trading spaceship every night and whenever they left it unattended.
With a sigh, she debated trying to sleep, but the muffled thuds, groans, and laughter that passed her door had her getting out of bed to cross to the door to listen curiously.
“Ow, this split lip hurts!” Garret’s voice sounded thickly.
“Don’t be such a babe.” That was Simon. “My hand is bleeding so much I’ll probably pass out soon.”
“Just don’t get it on the floor.” Maverk laughed. “‘Twill be a hell of a job to get Tenia to clean it up after that last tantrum.”
The chuckles that met th
is made her scowl.
“Where’s the antiseptic?” Cam called, and then roared, “Hells bells! That bloody hurt! You’re ham fisted, Morgan!”
“Hold still and quit complaining,” slurred Morgan. “Now I’ve dropped the bandage.”
“Wonderful.” Darvk’s deep voice joined in. “Find it, otherwise our newest crewmember might get uptight at us for dirtying her clean floor.”
She might be stuck on this ship, but her mood didn’t lend patience to listening to the great louts insulting her. Already moody, anxious to get off the ship and resume her search, Tenia threw caution to the wind and stormed down the corridor, her golden braid bouncing down her back.
“Having fun?” she snarled, stopping in the doorway to glare at them all.
Surprised by her sudden appearance, the traders froze around the table and stared at her.
Just as surprised, but for a totally different reason, she blinked. “You’re all drunk and have been fighting.”
Throats were cleared and eyes looked everywhere but at her, except Darvk, who was gazing his fill of her, and Maverk glancing thoughtfully between them.
Seeing the various injuries, the split lips, blackening eyes, cuts, and bloodied noses, Tenia asked sarcastically, “Did you all have a good time?”
“Now, lass,” Morgan slurred, fumbling at the medical supplies on the table and overturning the antiseptic bottle.
Everyone grabbed for it, the liquid splashing everywhere as it was jostled over by fumbling hands.
She could only watch in disbelief as the men fumbled and grabbed, muttering and almost dropping the bottle. Finally unable to bear it any longer, she shook her head. “Give the damn thing here.” Tenia pushed her way through the men to snatch the bottle. “Move over, you drunken slobs, and give me room.”
Immediately shoving started as the traders shuffled around.
“You heard her, move.”
“Ouch! You stepped on my foot, you clod!”
“I’ll pin your ears back in a minute!”
“Sit down and shut up,” Tenia snapped. “Now who is bleeding the most?”
Hands went up everywhere and she sighed. Muttering to herself about imbecile males, she proceeded to clean and patch up the various wounds and grazes. Anyone who yelled at the sting of antiseptic was quickly silenced by her glare. Meekly, they gave themselves up to her administrations, retreating to their cabins as she finished with them.
As she tended to them, she could only shake her head at her own actions. Reya had always said her heart was too soft, and it looked like her sister was right yet again. For certain she shouldn’t have cared about these men, but they hadn’t hurt her, had treated her more like an errant sister than a slave. Treated her with respect in fact. She guessed she could at least help them a little, pay back their kindness.
Part of her growled silently at that thought, but she ignored it, keeping her attention on the chore at hand. She might be hard-hearted at times, but right now…right now she refused to think about it.
Later she’d probably curse herself for doing it.
As she tended the rather sheepish-looking men, it wasn’t long before she became aware that one member of this crew wasn’t as drunk as the others. One member who was watching her. She was more than aware of Darvk studying her silently as she cleaned up his crew and sent them away.
Finally the room was empty apart from the Daamen captain and Tenia, and taking a deep, steadying breath, she approached him, looking at his grazed face and upper arm where blood showed through the rag wrapped around it. Avoiding those vivid blue eyes, she unwrapped the bloody rag.
~*~
The scent of jasmine drifted up to tease his senses. Darvk’s gaze dropped to the gentle movement of full breasts as Tenia leaned over to wet a clean cloth. The feel of her cool fingers on his heated skin was like a match to dry kindling, his loins tightening almost painfully.
“This needs stitches. You’d better send for a medic.” She started to step back, but he caught her upper arm in a firm but gentle hold.
Stiffening, she looked at him warily.
“The medics here are little more than butchers, lass. Can you do it?”
The faint flicker in her eyes betrayed nervousness. Could it be due to his fingers encircling her arm, or the realization that he was sober?
“Have you done it before?”
“Many times.” She recovered herself.
“Then please do so now.”
“Very well.”
He released her arm and she moved back to the medipack, silently threading a needle and pouring antiseptic over it. Next she cleaned the blood away from the deep cut. More welled up but it couldn’t be helped.
“Ready?”
He glanced from the cut to her. “Worried about me?”
“Not at all,” she replied rather tartly, and without further hesitation applied the needle and thread to his skin.
The needle stung, but the antiseptic burned. He clenched his jaw. Studying the set expression on the beautiful face as she bent to the task, he wondered if she was secretly enjoying torturing him.
“Don’t watch if it bothers you so.” Tying the thread, she clipped it before continuing with the stitching.
“I’d rather see what you’re doing.”
He did watch, but not the stitches being so skilfully applied. Instead, he studied the golden hair that shone softly in the light, her heart-shaped face and delicate features. The small straight nose was saved from being haughty by the tilted tip, and he decided that was a nice touch. When the soft red lips weren’t pressed together in annoyance, they were innocently seductive. Now that was a really nice touch.
Curiosity piqued. “Do you have any male relatives?”
“You mean living?”
“Aye.”
She dabbed more blood away. “There’re a couple.”
“Your uncle?”
The needle pierced his skin and he stiffened.
“Yes. The bastard lives well on his blood money.”
“Blood money?”
“After an attack by bounty hunters, I and a badly injured sister warrior got separated from our small group of survivors. I took her to a deserted hut we knew of, only to find my uncle there. He and his wife welcomed us with open arms. Sherrie was dying and needed help, so there was no choice but to go in.”
When she stopped speaking to dab again at the cut, he prompted, “What happened?”
“What happened?” She laughed bitterly. “For two weeks I stayed with them until Sherrie died. I started to trust him, more fool I. One night I woke up and the slave traders were there. I was sold.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I was the fool for trusting anyone not a Reeka.” She snipped the thread. “He laughed in my face as I was dragged away in chains.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “He shouldn’t have betrayed you.”
She didn’t answer, the big cabin growing quiet while she finished stitching, applied antiseptic, and secured a self-adhesive patch over the wound.
As she turned away to pick up a clean cloth, he swivelled the stool around to face her. When she turned to face him again, she frowned to find herself standing between his spread knees.
Realising how she might misconstrue the action, Darvk explained quickly, “Easier than turning my head.”
“Of course.” Keeping her gaze on his face, she dabbed at the grazes on his cheekbones.
He could feel the warmth of her body so close to his, her scent so tantalizing. She was an enigma, tending to him and his men even though she had a chip on her shoulder a mile wide and long. Mayhap with good reason, mayhap not, but her apparent soft-heartedness beneath the abrasiveness drew him like a moth to a flame.
“So how did you get wounded?” His hand brushed her waist as he shifted slightly.
Oh aye, she had a woman’s body, softness and firmness combined, sweet curves in all the right places but combined with the strength of a warrior. ‘Twas an alluring mix.
Concentrating on cleaning his wounds, she didn’t seem to notice his movement. “My dear uncle slashed me with my own sword when I fought the slavers.”
He winced at the thought of betrayal by those who should have protected her. “I’m so sorry.”
“Not as sorry as I.” Recapping the bottle, she placed it decisively on the table. “Finished. You’ll live to fight another day.”
She started to back away, but Darvk caught her hands in a firm grasp. “Tenia-”
“Let go.”
He tugged her closer. “I only want to thank you for tending to our wounds.”
“Don’t thank me. You were all making enough noise to wake the dead. It was better to sort you all out than suffer the noise.”
“You’re a prickly little thing. Can’t you just accept my gratitude?”
“For how long? Until you tire of me and resell me?”
“Do you really think I’d do that?” Darvk shook his head. “Nay, lass, that won’t happen.” When she tried to pull away, he released her hands to quickly grab her waist, holding her in place as he sought to reassure her. “Have I ever mistreated you?”
“Not yet.”
“Never.”
Their eyes locked and something filled the air between them. The atmosphere was charged with sudden awareness, the feel of her waist through her clothes, the hardness of his thighs against hers.
Later, he couldn’t even think what possessed him to do it, but right then it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to draw her closer, watching those big, violet eyes widen, the flicker in the darkening depths as he drew her closer still, his thighs brushing against hers.
Desire leaped inside him, need thrumming hot and hard and sudden.
He half expected her to fight, to struggle, fully intending to release her if she did, but when her breath caught, her hands coming out to lightly rest on his shoulders, he drew her those last few inches.
She didn’t stop him, her gaze locked almost hypnotically on his, the answering flare of sudden heat in them undeniable, and then his lips met hers.
Her lips were soft, sweet, and a warm surge of heat swept through him. When she didn’t jerk back or protest, he coaxed her gently to open those soft, red lips, and she obeyed. His tongue swept in, tasting her sweetness.
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