Dragon Lords 4-Warrior Prince (11 page)

Zoran stood before her, sweaty from work, but not covered in swamp muck. In his extended hand he held a bunch of flowers. He’d pulled them up by the roots and red dirt still clung to them.

Pia eyed him and his wilting flowers unenthusiastically. "You’re off early."

"I thought," he began. "Here, take these. I’m trying to ... ugh."

Pia blinked. It really was a sweet effort, one he didn’t seem all that comfortable making. She would’ve laughed if he didn’t look so pained.

Standing, Pia set the manual aside and took the flowers.

"Ah, thanks," she mumbled. "I guess I should get them in some water."

Zoran rolled his eyes at himself and smacked the side of his temple, as she turned to walk the sorry bouquet to the kitchen. He’d known it was a stupid idea when Olek suggested it. Olek seemed so sure his own wife liked plants from the forest and assumed that maybe all Earth women did.

Following her to the kitchen, Zoran watched as she grabbed a knife and cut off the roots. She then filled a goblet with water and stuck the flowers in it. As she swept the roots into the trash, he said, "Come on. I got you some things."

Pia eyed him suspiciously.

"Just," he frowned and grumbled, waving her forward. "Come on."

Pia followed him to the main hall. She hadn’t noticed until now that there was a bunch of packages on the floor.

"What’s all this?" she asked.

"I thought, well, you looked like you might need some stuff. So I went shopping for you."

"Okay," Pia allowed carefully, wondering what in the galaxy he thought she needed. Aside from something to do during the day and food in the kitchen, she couldn’t think of a thing.

Zoran leaned over and picked up the largest bag, handing it to her. "I got you some clothes. I know they aren’t what you’re used to, but it’s our fashion. I got the most comfortable stuff I could find."

Zoran had gone to the dressmaker, grabbing a random woman off the street who appeared to be about Pia’s size. The woman was shocked beyond belief to have the overlarge Captain of the Guards, and a Prince at that, grab her and yank her into the dressmaker’s shop. But, after realizing what the big bad warrior was trying to do, she took pity on him and helped him out. She even went so far as to make him a list of everything he should consider getting. Zoran had gotten most of the items off her list--at least the ones he could understand. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out what a mascara and a blush tinter were. When he’d asked the baker, the man had just shrugged.

Zoran then ordered the old dressmaker to give him everything she had that a wife might have need of. She’d only been too happy to comply, insisting that he bring his wife back to the shop so she could measure her for a dress. Instead, Zoran told her to send one of her assistants to the house to take the measurements. He hated to admit that he was still disturbed by her hair and not ready to bring her out in public. Not that he thought she wasn’t ravishing, but that the rest of his people would assume he did it to shame and humiliate her. The Qurilixen would never believe that a woman had purposefully done it her herself.

The seamstress’ helper would be arriving any minute. Zoran had picked out a few dress designs and materials he liked. Then, he’d given leeway to the woman to make Pia whatever else she saw fit before leaving the shop.

Pia hesitated. No one had ever gotten her anything like this before. No one had ever brought her flowers. She didn’t care how sorry they looked. To her they were the most beautiful flowers in the galaxy.

Zoran frowned when she didn’t speak. "You aren’t pleased."

"No," she rushed. "It’s fine. There’s just so much of it. I don’t need all this."

"I can’t take it back," he lied. "So you might as well go through it and pick out what you want."

Pia nodded. She took the bag and sat with it on the front hall floor. Carefully reaching in, she dug out several pairs of cotton slacks. The material was soft and flowing and reminded her of pajama pants. They came in all colors, most predominately black. One even had a red dragon embroidered on the front hip. She smiled. Maybe that could be her new formal wear.

Zoran saw her smile and relaxed some. "So you’re not going to throw them in the fireplace?"

Pia blinked, not knowing he was teasing. "I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have done it."

"It’s fine. Forget it."

Pia nodded, still feeling guilty.

Zoran lifted a couple bags and began walking to the kitchen. "I’ll put the groceries away. The rest is yours, go ahead and put them wherever you see fit."

Pia swallowed nervously. Without him watching her, she dug into the sack with shaking fingers. She found several cotton shirts, with built in support. Reaching to scratch where her bra rubbed her side, she sighed in excitement. These shirts would be so much more comfortable.

Pia heard Zoran rummaging around in the kitchen. She leaned back, trying to get a peek at him. She couldn’t see him from her place on the floor.

In one of the smaller bags was a bunch of perfumes. She wondered if he’d even tested them or if he simply walked along and plucked them randomly into a bag. She smelled a couple. Most were exotic flower blends and not bad. One, a very decorative bottle encrusted with fake gems, was awful and she capped it immediately.

"You’ll be decoration," she said to the offending fragrance, setting it apart from the others.

There were socks, leather boots, and a low pair of shoes perfect for exercising. Lifting them up, she slipped the low shoes onto her bare feet. They fit perfectly.

"I thought you could use those if you wanted to work on your kicks," he said from behind her.

Pia was in too good of a mood to take offence. It was just like Christmas--or what she imagined Christmas would’ve felt like. "There’s nothing wrong with my kicks. I got you, didn’t I?"

They both instantly remembered their little fight in the tent. Zoran’s eyes lit with the memory. Pia turned quickly away to hide her mortified blush.

"I let you hit me," he said. "I took it easy on you, you know, because you’re a girl."

Pia’s mouth dropped open at his presumption. "Hey, I’ve been in a lot of fights. I can hold my own."

"I’m sure with a weaker, less skilled opponent, you could," Zoran said, provoking her on purpose. She was lovely when she was fired up.

"Are you saying I couldn’t take you down?" she asked, hands on hips. "I’ll have you know that I’ve taken down creatures twice your size."

"Have you?" he smirked, not believing her.

"Yeah," she stated. "I have. In fact, once in the Sollure System I took on two Yehtis from--"

"Yehtis are slow, cumbersome creatures," Zoran broke in, dismissing her words away with a toss of his hand. "Anyone with half a brain could outwit them."

"I was thirteen," she said darkly.

All right, Zoran thought. That’s impressive.

"You could have just gotten lucky." Not letting her see his admiration, he continued to goad her. "It doesn’t mean that you don’t need to work on your moves."

"My moves are just fine," she said, outraged. "I’ll take on any man you put in front of me!"

"Is that so?" he asked, taking a step forward.

"Yeah, that’s so!"

Zoran stepped directly in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest. "All right, then."

Pia blinked up at him.

"Well?" he questioned, with an arrogant raise of his brow. "You said you could take down any man I put in front of you. So, what are you waiting for? Take me down."

Pia narrowed her eyes. Instantly, her hand darted out for his neck and she turned to sweep him down over her hip. Zoran ducked out of her way and grabbed her from behind as she spun. Pulling her hard to his chest, he said, "I’m sorry, were you not ready? Would you like to try again?"

Pia grumbled darkly as he let her go. Backing up, she eyed him. Coming forward, she faked a kick and punched toward his jaw. He dodged her fist, lifting his hand to catch it in his large palm.

Pia flinched, as he squeezed her fist lightly in his grasp, showing her how easily he could have broken her hand without really hurting her. She jerked her hand away from him with a loud growl of frustration. Zoran smiled. "Are you done playing around?"

Pia shook out her hand and circled around him. Zoran lowered his arm to his side and didn’t move to watch her. He had to give her credit, she wasn’t bad. He listened to her steps carefully, anticipating her attack.

"Ow," Pia cried out breathlessly, as if in pain.

Zoran instantly turned to check on her. It was a mistake. She grabbed his arm in mid turn and bucked him over her knee. He landed on his back with a thud and she jumped on top of him, pinning down his arms with her knees.

Smiling victoriously, she said, "You military guys are all the same. It doesn’t matter who you are, if you hear a womanly cry for help you’re all over it." She shook her head, her short hair brushing up against her jaw. "I’m sorely disappointed, Zoran."

Zoran grinned. He was anything but disappointed. He could’ve gotten out of her hold if he wanted to, but the view was too great to disrupt. He had an eyeful of her breasts right above his face and if he were to lean his head in he could nuzzle her inner thigh. To bad she wouldn’t take her clothes off. This game would be much more entertaining if they were naked.

"Do you give up?" she asked.

"And relinquish this view?" he said playfully, giving a meaningful nod to her chest. He licked his lips. "Never."

Pia gasped, instantly trying to stand. Zoran pushed up from the floor, bending straight over so she straddled his lap. Then, whipping his legs straight to the sides and around on the floor, he pinned her down with his body, fitting himself between her thighs.

Pia gasped to feel his swift grace. His flexible gladiator body pressed into hers.

"Though, this view isn’t bad either," he smirked naughtily. Looking down at her breasts beneath his face, he asked, "Do you mind if I just take a closer look?

"Ah!" Pia’s mouth fell open in outrage.

He took the opportunity to place a swift kiss on her mouth. Her body jolted in shock beneath him. She squeezed his waist with her legs, trying to get him to back off.

"Get off me, you gigantic oaf!" she screamed. "Don’t you dare touch me!"

Zoran chuckled and rolled to the side. She shot to her feet. Suddenly, a knock sounded on the door. Pia blinked looking down at her husband who was lying on his back, eyeing her from the floor.

"That would be the man here to take your measurements," he answered her unasked question. Bucking his feet into the air, he hopped to standing with little effort. He winked at Pia as he passed by. "I know you hate it, but you do need to have a few formal dresses for special occasions."

Pia was too weak to answer. The graceful way his body moved and flexed, it was strange to see large man so nimble, yet overwhelmingly powerful and strong. The way he could so easily overtake her did something to her insides. She watched him, her mouth dry, as he went to answer the door. It was as if he had no idea the effect he had on her. Her heart hammered in her chest, pounding wildly. She was severely shaken.

In the tent, when they’d fought, he hadn’t moved as swiftly and surely as he had just now. Pia realized that he’d held back that night. He’d let her think she had him matched. Now, watching his body with new appreciation, she understood that he was trained well beyond her years of experience. She might get a few lucky shots in, but in the end he would always be able to defeat her. A small part of her wanted to beg him to train her. The other parts of her beat that small part up.

Zoran glanced back at her. He narrowed his eyes wondering at her dumbfounded look. With no reason to think otherwise, he assumed the look meant she didn’t want to be fitted for formal gowns.

Pia tried to hide her thoughts from her warrior husband. She looked over Zoran’s shoulder. A man stood in the doorway, looking at her with a look akin to horror. She blushed, suddenly realizing he must have heard them from outside the hall.

"Draea Anwealda," the dressmaker’s assistant said, turning to address Prince Zoran with a slight bow. The man made a compassionate face, glancing back at Pia’s hair. The man motioned to her again with a look of pity, asking Zoran their shared language, "Should I leave? Is the Princess in exile?"

Zoran should’ve known it was coming. He glanced back at Pia, knowing he would have to face a rampage of rumors the next day.

"No," Zoran answered the man in kind. "She isn’t disfigured."

Pia watched as the man motioned to her and then to his own longer locks. She self-consciously touched her hair as she watched him. When he looked at her again, it was as if he felt sorry for her. The man shook his head sadly.

"What?" Pia asked, looking at Zoran to translate the man’s words. "What’s he saying?"

Zoran frowned, but answered honestly, "He wants to know why I have disfigured you and if he should leave your presence. He thinks you might be in exile."

"What did you tell him?" she asked unenthusiastically. Suddenly, she began growing extremely self-conscious. Annoying Zoran with her haircut was one thing, but eliciting pitying looks from outsiders was another completely. She didn’t wish to be pitied. She hated those ‘oh, that poor thing’ looks people sometimes gave her when they’d seen her scarred face. That’s what this man’s expression reminded her of.

"That you weren’t disfigured," Zoran answered.

Pia eyed the man, scowling. He continued to stare at her. She stiffened. Her jaw lifted regally and she stared back. The man blinked, looking away first. It was a grim victory.

Zoran said something to the man. The assistant rushed forward. Zoran nodded at his wife, going to the kitchen and leaving them alone. Lifting her arm, the assistant ran his measuring tape over her stiff body. He finished quickly, without looking directly at her again, and turned to leave. The door slid shut behind him.

"Please tell me not everyone is going to react like that," she said darkly.

"Like what?" Zoran asked. He pretended not to know what she spoke of, as he came out of the kitchen wiping crumbs from his mouth.