The Nymph King. Gena Showalter

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СКАЧАТЬ stared at his blunt-tipped fingers, at the calluses and scars slashed across his palm, a contrast to his perfect beauty. As she stared, her anger drained. Total strength lay there, dormant now, but ready to kill at any moment. Except…he could have crushed her with those hands at any time. He’d shown her nothing but gentleness.

      Foolish woman, she chided, placing her hand in his. Of course he hasn’t hurt you. He needs a healthy sex slave. His fingers intertwined with hers. At the moment of contact, dark, erotic pulses tingled through her. They’d touched before, and each time had elicited sparks. But this time…it was more intense. A deeper awareness in this skin-to-skin contact she’d wanted so badly but hadn’t wanted to want. Gasping, she tried to tug away from him, to sever the connection. He held tight.

      “Mine,” he said.

      She bit the inside of her cheek against the pleasure that one declaration wrought. “I don’t understand any of this. I don’t understand you.”

      “You will. In time.”

      The dire words—warning? promise?—rang in her head as she climbed the rest of the wooden stairs. At the top, two gleaming crystal doors were held open by giant rubies. Jeweled doorstops?

      Curiosity got the better of her. “Why do you have the entrance propped open like that?”

      “A dragon medallion is needed to open and close the doorways, and I do not wish to wear anything belonging to a dragon.” He spat the word dragon as if it was a foul curse.

      What kind of response could she offer to that?

      He tossed a frown over his shoulder. “And you had better not try to search for a medallion. If you do, you will be punished.”

      “Will I be punished for breathing?” she snapped. He seemed to be looking for an excuse to punish her.

      “If it is done in the direction of another man, yes.” The warning was serious, though the tone lacked true heat.

      “Pig.”

      “Lover.”

      “Bastard.”

      He flicked another glance over his shoulder. This time his lips were curled in a wicked half smile, and knowing intent sizzled in his eyes like blue fire. “Say that while we’re naked. I dare you.”

      She gulped and tore her attention away from him. A smart woman would have been memorizing her surroundings for possible escape routes instead of antagonizing (aka drooling over) her captor.

      Shaye forced herself to act like a smart woman. Down a long, winding hallway they strode, the walls jagged once again and completely barren, offering no distinguishing marks to help her find her way back. They turned left. Left again. Right. Left. Right. They bypassed several open doorways, but they moved so quickly she had no chance to peek inside. The sound of their footsteps echoed throughout the hall.

      “Where are we going?” she asked.

      “My bedchamber.”

      “Your what?” Mouth opening and closing, she dug her sandy, squishy sandals into the marble floor. “Hell, no. Hell. No.”

      He could have dragged her along, but he stopped and faced her. His luscious mouth twitched in amusement. “We will not make love tonight unless you beg me for it. Does that appease this sudden fear you have of my room?”

      “No,” she gritted out.

      “I wish only to show you the Outer City from my window.” He sighed another of those long, drawn-out exhalations. “Unfortunately there is not time for anything more.”

      Glaring, she anchored her hands on her hips. “You’re lying. Your kind always has time for sex.”

      “My kind?” The smile quickly faded from his face. “By that I hope you mean the honest kind. I vowed never to lie to you, and I will not. My honor demands nothing less. I said I will not touch you tonight until you beg for it, so that is the way it will be.”

      Shaye didn’t allow his fervent vow to sway her. Even if he kept his word and kept his hands to himself, they would be near a bed. Most likely a decadent, made-forsin bed. What if she saw it, lost her will to resist, and made a pass at him? “Your honor doesn’t mean shit to me. I’m not going to your bedroom.”

      A muscle ticked in his jaw. An inferno blazed in his eyes, a churning tempest of blues. From cerulean to azure to the palest violet. “Very well,” he said, each syllable precise. “We will not steal a moment for ourselves. We will join the others. I can only hope your prudish nature will prevent my men from choosing you.”

      “Choosing me for what?” she bit out, ignoring the “prudish” comment. She suspected the answer, and she almost screamed when it came.

      His brows arched, and his lips dipped downward. “For their bedmate, of course.”

      Chapter Six

      VALERIAN HAD TO CARRY his intended mate to the dining hall. Something he enjoyed immensely, even though she kicked and shouted profanities the entire way. Her breasts pressed into his back, her legs draped over his stomach.

      He grinned. Oh, but he liked this woman’s spirit. How amusing she was. He only wished he knew her name. Up Yours, indeed. She refused to tell him the truth, and that he didn’t like. He hadn’t cared before, with other women, but knowing this one’s name seemed necessary for his survival.

      “I will not be your sex slave, and I will not be your army’s sex slave. Do you understand me? I won’t!”

      No, she would be his lover. His mate. His. And only his. Earlier he had seen the way his men glanced at her, the way their gazes had trailed over the curve of her waist, awaiting glimpses of the pale skin beneath her grass skirt.

      Perhaps he would not keep her dressed that way, as he’d first thought. Perhaps he would drape her in thick, dark cloth from head to toe. As it was, one of his warriors would probably try to select her. What man could resist the fire burning beneath the cool facade, begging for release?

      Valerian would kill before he allowed another man to have her.

      He’d told her that his honor would not allow him to lie, but really, honor meant nothing in the face of losing her. He’d lie, he’d cheat, he’d do whatever was necessary to ensure that no other man tried to claim her.

      As he turned a corner, Valerian wished the little moonbeam would have let him take her to his room. He would have shown her the city view as promised, yes, but he also would have utilized the stolen time to the fullest. He would have tempted and tantalized her until she thought only of him. A forbidden caress, a lingering, heated glance. His men would have seen how much she desired him, only him, and would have been less inclined to choose her.

      Now he would have to think of something else.

      “Take me back to the beach,” she said, beating her fists against his buttocks. “Right now, damn it! I’m through playing nice. Do you hear me?”

      “I am not sure how many different ways I can tell you that this is your home and you are staying here forever.” Perhaps it was СКАЧАТЬ