Keeper of the Heart

by Johanna Lindsey

“I was asked for a copy of the Sublim on our language, so I had Martha send it down. I thought it was the general who wanted it, but obviously it was her sister who doubted the process I had explained during my interrogation and wanted to try it herself. Shows what I get for making assumptions. If it had been the general, instead, that rod would have worked on you.”

  “It occurs to me now that in knowing what she intended, you had to agree to it.” A growl entered his voice as he added, “You would have had me forget you.”

  Shanelle flinched and decided it would be judicious to assure him the opposite. “That wasn’t my idea, Falon. It was the only way Donilla figured she could help me out. And it was only temporary. As soon as you returned to your ship, Brock would have reminded you of me and your reason for being here, and your very nature would have brought you back down here, whether you remembered me or not. For it to work permanently, I would have had to use it on you, and use so many countering suggestions that no one would be able to cancel them all. I could have met you when you arrived and got you so confused, it would have taken you years to figure out what I’d done. For that matter, I could have used the rod on you when I just passed you with it. You wouldn’t have known, and I could have told you to walk out of here—without me— and you would have done just that. It works that simply. But I didn’t do that, did I?”

  “Why not?”

  “You can get that scowl off your face, warrior. I don’t like the idea of altering personalities on people who don’t know it’s happening, any more than you do, that’s why not. That’s not what I did to those two men, either. I didn’t change them, I merely told them to forget that Lanar is their mistress. Apparently she’s already got them altered into thinking that any female who walks in there is there to be punished. But they don’t do the punishing, merely the preparing, so all Lanar will get is an uncomfortable wait until someone comes around to release her, and probably not even that, since all she has to do is pull out her rod and use it on them again—if she can figure out what suggestions I gave them before they bind her up. Farden hell, I didn’t think of that.”

  He was suddenly grinning. “I cannot decide if I like this desire you have to avenge yourself.”

  “Too bad,” she retorted, but then she looked at him curiously. “You know, Falon, if you agreed to it, I could rid you of the things I object to about you. Of course, I’d have to take one of those rods home with me, because someone is going to remind you of everything I’d have you forget, so I’d have to do it again and again. But it could work, I suppose, as long as you agreed to it. Would you like to be completely acceptable to me, warrior, so I won’t mind going home with you?”

  He was scowling again, and this time as intimidatingly as possible. “You will accept me as I am, woman.”

  She sighed and turned away from him. “I figured you’d say that.”

  He grabbed her and gave her one hard shake before he reiterated in a near shout, “You will accept me.”

  Her jaw thrust forward at a stubborn tilt. “Don’t count on it.”

  His complexion darkened. She realized that she’d got him angry at last and he didn’t care that she knew it. She closed her eyes, expecting the worse, but refusing to back down or even try to placate him. She would just as soon find out now what happened when a Ba-Har-ani lost his temper.

  But into that tense silence a door could be heard opening, and then Shanelle heard a most welcome voice asking, “Are we interrupting?”

  “No!” Shanelle gasped out in relief.

  Her eyes flew open to locate her brother, but were arrested by Falon’s expression instead. The warrior was looking very pleased now, and Shanelle’s face flamed with color as she realized that he hadn’t really lost his temper, he’d just wanted her to think so in order to intimidate her. Although she hadn’t backed down and changed her tune to save herself from a clobbering, she’d still let him see that he could intimidate her.

  Shanelle completely forgot that her brother and probably the rest of his party had just entered the room. Her mind centered on one thing and exploded in wounded pride. She didn’t even think about what she was doing. She just hooked her foot behind Falon’s knee, pulled him off-balance with it, and pushed with both fists into the center of his chest at the same time. It worked perfectly, or would have if Falon had let go of her arms. Instead he grunted as he fell backward, and Shanelle shrieked as she went down with him. And he still wasn’t angry, if the sound of the beginning of chuckling could be believed.

  Shanelle scrambled to her feet only so she could glare down at Falon. “The next time you get angry, you farden jerk, you damn well better be angry! I won’t be tested like that. You want to know my reactions, well, you just got one!”

  “Indeed,” he agreed, and he was definitely chuckling. “I mind not your temper, kerima, as long as you remember that you do mind mine.”

  “Go to—!”

  “Shani!”

  Her face flamed again with color, mortified color this time. You didn’t do what she’d just done to a warrior—at least not in front of other warriors. The warning in Dalden’s voice reminded her of that, and she was cringing as she turned to face him, hoping only Dalden was there. But no such luck. Yet only Dalden was showing any warrior outrage. Falon’s kin looked as amused as Falon still sounded. Donilla, who was with them, merely looked incredulous.

  Shanelle decided it might be prudent to explain to her brother at least. “I was provoked—”

  “That is no excuse—” Dalden started to interrupt.

  “Leave her be,” Falon cut in as well as he stood up behind Shanelle and drew her back against him possessively. “She is mine now to discipline, yet for this none is needful. I will learn not to be so easily felled by her trickery, and she will learn by example what will be tolerated and what will not. Thus do we teach each other.”

  “But she knows better than to be so disrespectful,” Dalden said.

  “Do not remind her of your Kan-is-Tran ways, my friend. Ba-Har-ani women are allowed more freedom to express themselves, and Shanelle will be a Ba-Har-ani.”

  Shanelle would have liked to retort that she wasn’t yet, but she wasn’t foolish enough to remind Falon that he’d forgotten about seeing to that. And her curiosity had been snagged anyway by that intriguing remark of his.

  She turned her head to ask Falon, “How much freedom are we discussing here?”

  “I believe you have exceeded your limit for this rising,” he replied with a grin. “Go and greet your brother now as is proper, and apologize for shaming him with your behavior.”

  Shanelle’s mouth dropped open. “You just said I was allowed—”

  “He feels otherwise, as you well know.”

  She did know it, but it was galling to have Falon remind her of that, and worse to have his hand come to her bottom and gently shove her toward her brother. She spared a moment to turn and give him the most fulminating look she could manage. The farden jerk only laughed.

  Chapter 30

  Dalden got no more than a whispered apology, though it was sincere, for Shanelle knew how real his displeasure was with her. He might be half Kystrani like her, but he was a Kan-is-Tran warrior right down to his bones, and as inflexible about certain things as they all were. And one of those things was that all women show proper respect for warriors, because a woman could get seriously hurt if she goaded her warrior into losing his temper with her. And any woman who ignored that golden rule was almost guaranteed punishment.

  Where had that bit of knowledge flown to when she had goaded Falon, called him a jerk—pushed him over? Her own loss of temper was no excuse. Dalden was right, she did know better. And yet she wouldn’t have learned what she did if it hadn’t happened. Freedom to express herself any way she chose? What an unwarriorlike concept. What an amazing advantage if it was true. But when she questioned her brother about it, she got no assurances.

  “Falon has asked that I refrain from telling you what I know,” she was informed. “He wants
you to bring your questions to him as is proper for a lifemate to do, thus enabling you to know each other better the sooner.”

  Needless to say, Shanelle wasn’t pleased by that idea at all, and retorted, “He’s not my lifemate yet, Dal.”

  “You know it is as good as done.”

  That was true as long as she was in the same room with Falon, where all he had to do was say the words, no matter if others were present with them. So that quickly became her number one priority, getting out of that warrior’s sight and staying out of it. Unfortunately, that was easier hoped for than accomplished.

  Shanelle had a few moments to speak privately with Donilla while Falon’s kin teased him about the great odds he’d had to overcome to rescue her—they’d seen the two little males still lying unconscious in the other room. “I’m sorry about your sister, but I was too angry not to sock her one after what she did to me.”

  Donilla knew her sister well enough to have figured out what that was without having to be told. “I should be the one to apologize,” she said. “Lanar really overstepped herself this time, and she’ll be called to account for it, likely losing some of her authority.”

  “Well, don’t do it on my account. But you might want to drop by here once a day for a while.” At Donilla’s questioning look, Shanelle added, “I had a little Altering rod talk with Lanar’s two slave-handlers, just to even the score, you understand.”

  Donilla nodded. “Appropriate, I would say.”

  “I thought so.”

  “But what about you? After seeing for myself what you were trying so desperately to avoid, I’m really sorry we weren’t able to help.”

  Shanelle shrugged. “So am I, but I was probably doomed to fail the moment they managed to get their hands on a ship that was faster than mine.”

  “I could cause a disturbance while you try and slip away,” Donilla offered.

  “Thanks, but you can’t slip away from a Mock II that easily, and my father’s Mock II is monitoring this room right now. Brock would simply use Transferring to set one of these warriors down right in front of whatever direction I take. That sort of defeats the purpose in trying.”

  “You sound so hopeless. Isn’t there anything else you can do?”

  “Not until I’m back on Sha-Ka’an and away from computers that can screw up good escape plans. Anyway, it’s easier to disappear when you can be inconspicuous. I couldn’t have been that here.”

  “An understatement,” Donilla replied ruefully. “But I do wish you luck.”

  “Same here, since you’ve got your own problems that you might want to think about resolving. You never know, your men might have learned a thing or two by now—at least that your planet didn’t fall apart under female governance.”

  Donilla returned Shanelle’s grin. “That’s true. Ah, it looks like your brother just got disturbed about something. He doesn’t have exceptional hearing, does he?”

  Shanelle glanced over her shoulder and grimaced, seeing Dalden scowling darkly at her. “No, what he’s got is a computer-link unit. Farden hell. Brock probably just told him what we were talking about, that interfering eavesdropper. I’d better go.”

  Shanelle squeezed the general’s hand in farewell, then marched to her brother’s side and said before he could get his mouth open, “I don’t want to hear about it.”

  “You will hear about it—but not here.” Dalden grabbed her wrist and turned toward Falon to gain his attention. “I am taking her to the ship now for an overdue talking-to,” he told Falon. “Do you follow when you are ready. Brock?”

  Shanelle barely had time to notice that Falon didn’t particularly care for that idea before she found herself in the Control Room of an unfamiliar ship, and Brock’s deep voice was greeting her with “Welcome aboard, Shanelle.”

  She ignored the computer just like she’d told him she’d do and asked her brother, “What kind of ship is this?”

  “Don’t change the subject, Shani.”

  So he was ready for battle, was he? “We didn’t start a subject to change, but if we had, I would tell you it’s none of your business. According to the Ba-Har-ani, he’s the only one who can reprimand me now.”

  “Then merely take heed of a concerned relative who wants to save your backside undue stress. Don’t run from him again, Shani.”

  She turned to glare at him, but anger wasn’t the way to deal with her brother. It either amused him or got his back up, neither of which was going to benefit her right now.

  So she dropped her shoulders, hung her head, and managed to sound utterly miserable. “I’m afraid of him, Dal. Can’t you challenge him for me, just to get him to drop his suit? You’re bigger than he is.”

  “He is more experienced, or weren’t you watching him during the competitions?”

  He sounded amused. Farden hell. He knew she wasn’t a whiner, or even close to true tearfulness.

  “You could at least try,” she grumbled.

  “I wouldn’t even consider it, Shani. I can’t protect you anymore if he’s around, and certainly not from him when there isn’t the least sign of abuse on you.”

  Her head shot up, amber eyes flaring. “There was! I was black-and-blue when he finished with me!”

  “If you had stuck around as you should have, you would have learned that his loss of control merely proved to him that you were meant for him. It’s that loss of control that made him determined to have you.”

  “Of all the ridiculous things I’ve ever heard! I should have known you’d take his side. Damn warriors always stick together!”

  “And you are too stubborn for your own good,” he said with some heat of his own. “Were we home, I would place you in the kitchen myself to peel falaa for a month.”

  She turned her back on him to say bitterly, “Thanks a lot, brother.”

  He turned her around to shake his head at her and said reasonably, “You were wrong to leave, Shani, and well you know it.”

  “I was desperate.”

  “Without reason.”

  That did it, releasing every bit of resentment in her. “Fat lot you know about it! Stars, I hope the female you finally want for yourself isn’t Sha-Ka’ani, and that she never gives you any peace!”

  He drew in a sharp breath, his face flushing with angry color. “That is the most horrible thing you’ve ever said to me. Take it back, Shani.”

  “I’m damned if I will. You’re dooming me to a life of misery. If you think I’ll ever forgive you for that, brother, think again.”

  He started to retaliate further, but Falon beat him to it, his voice hard and uncompromising. “She will be punished for the pain she inflicts with her thoughtless words.”

  They both turned to see that Falon had been Transferred to their location alone, probably at Brock’s discretion, possibly even at Brock’s instigation for the express purpose of breaking up their fight. Dalden was embarrassed to have been found arguing with his sister, however, and that calmed him down. Shanelle was too angry to care.

  “Why not?” she replied sarcastically to Falon’s promise. “The more reasons the merrier.”

  “No,” Dalden said quietly. “She’s due some punishing, but not for that.” And to his sister, “I’m sorry, Shani, but I’m going to trust in our father’s judgment. He felt this warrior was the right mate for you, and I have faith that Falon will prove it so.”

  “Then do you give her to me in your father’s stead?” Falon asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Dalden!” Shanelle cried, realizing now that that was what Falon had been waiting for. Sure enough, Falon grabbed her hand and started to drag her out of the Control Room. “No, wait!”

  He didn’t. He pulled her down one softly glowing corridor, then another that was wider, into a lift that zoomed down two floors, out of it, through a large Rec Room, more corridors, another lift. For nearly fifteen minutes she was yanked along, her heart hammering, her fears mounting, getting her hand squeezed every time she tried to get it back. Finally F
alon stopped, but it was to lean back against a wall and close his eyes. Through her own anxieties, Shanelle actually felt a moment’s alarm for him.

  It didn’t come out sounding like concern, however. “What’s wrong?” she demanded.

  “Nothing.”

  Nothing? She looked around, but there were no immediate doors to enter. And he didn’t look like nothing was wrong. He looked like he was in some kind of discomfort.

  More softly, her concern apparent now, she said “Falon—?”

  His eyes opened and his mouth twisted in self-disgust. “I am lost.”

  Shanelle blinked at him. “Lost as in ‘don’t know where you are’?”

  He sighed. “Yes.”

  She stared at him blankly for a long moment before she said, “That’s kind of anticlimactic, isn’t it?”

  That got her a scowl which prompted a smile from her, but a moment later she burst out laughing. She fell back against the wall herself, holding her middle, tears filling her eyes. When her amusement started to wind down, she made the mistake of glancing at Falon’s face, which showed his continued disgruntlement, and another round of laughter ensued.

  She was gasping for breath when she felt his hand slip behind her neck to draw her over to lean against him. She didn’t try to resist. She didn’t know what it was about the laughter she got at his expense that made her feel at peace with Falon, but it did.

  “Your brother was right,” he said by her ear. “You have not the proper respect for a warrior.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. I have a great deal of respect for all of your abilities, Falon.” But then she rested her chin on his chest to grin up at him. “Just don’t draw me any maps I might need, okay?”

  He smiled at her and Shanelle caught her breath, struck again by how incredibly gorgeous the man was. Danger signals went off in her head, but his hands were already on her waist, slowly sliding her up his long body. She tried to avoid his lips, she really did, and managed it for all of two seconds, but then she gave in to the inevitable. There just wasn’t going to be any escape this time anyway, so she might as well enjoy as much of Falon as she could before he got carried away—and his kissing was very enjoyable.