SurrendersMischief (28 page)

She heard Darias crossing the room and turned.

He stood in front of the huge glass windows overlooking the
gardens, staring outside. Lightning split the air and rain slashed the panes of
the glass. The hard lines of his face were stark.

He nodded.

She couldn’t read him at all, his face closed, impassive.

“You’re serious about finding a solution? Together?” He
tilted his head toward the closed door and the Great Hall.

She walked over beside him, but she didn’t touch him. “I’m
serious. The problems of Nexar are complex. I don’t mind admitting I need help.
You are an able leader, Darias. You pinpointed the problems and were
systematically solving them. It wasn’t your fault that you inherited a
stagnating economy and a society biased against a large portion of your
population.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He braced one hand against the sill. A
bolt of lightning highlighted the old scar that went from his middle knuckle to
well past his wrist.

He was also a warrior. A man more accustomed to fixing a
problem than dwelling on what had gone wrong. Something she would do well to
remember.

“But it is my fault that I didn’t even realize there was
something wrong with the old system.” He turned his head and met her eyes. His
golden gaze tarnished with pain. “We treated women with less respect than our
animals. I treated you with less respect than my
chelan
. I trust his
instincts. I would allow him to refuse a command, certain he had a reason, yet
I would not even listen when you tried to explain your position. I hurt you.”

Riana crossed her arms under her breasts and stared with
blind eyes at the sporadic drops of rain. “Yes, you did. I recovered quickly
from the pain of punishment, but it took much longer to recover from the pain of
humiliation.” She swallowed the tightness in her throat. “That’s why I hurt you
every chance I got.”

Darias caught her chin on the edge of his hand. “I
understand. I thought I understood it the other night, but I didn’t. Not
really. Not until now. Where do we go from here?”

“We learn to be a team. I won’t say I won’t ever be tempted
to punish you. I have a temper. But I won’t. You have my word.”

“Your warriors will never tolerate a slave advising you.”
The corner of his mouth tipped up in wry acceptance of the fact.

“They will if I treat you like a true mate.”

“They’ll revolt,” he warned.

Riana considered his words. “I don’t think so. Look at how
your warriors reacted to learning Saria of the Far Islands was a woman. Once
they saw firsthand the advantages of trading with the Far Islands, they did
little more than grumble. Granted, it helped that Sharri brought the profit
from our goods and a wide range of sample trade goods available from the Far
Islands back first. They respect you, Darias. Enough that they trusted you turn
over control of the entire country-state to the women.

“Also, I’m given more latitude because I’m not from your
world. Besides, the women are more pragmatic than the men.”

His expression darkened.

“Don’t look so offended,” she told him, amused. “It’s the
truth. They know it is just a matter of time before you’d find a way to
overthrow me.” She laughed at the look of shock on his face. “Did you think I
wasn’t aware that I couldn’t hold out forever against your plans? You men were
doing everything in your power to see to it that we failed. You were certain
that governing a household, much less a country-state, would tax us beyond
endurance and we’d be relieved when men once again assumed the reins of power.”

“We were that obvious, huh?” He sounded more admiring than
chagrined.

Riana frowned at him. “I wouldn’t say obvious exactly. It’s
just that I knew you’d never concede defeat. Not completely.”

“How?” he asked, sounding curious.

“We’re a lot alike, you and I. In your place I would never
give up,” she said simply.

“I still don’t like the thought of opening Nexar to
offworlders.” He stroked the side of her face with the back of his hand. “Look
at the trouble of allowing just one to stay has caused.”

She circled the wrist of the hand cupping her face. Her
fingers barely fit around it. “We can go slow. Open a few of the most
profitable markets first. Trust me.”

His gaze softened, became intent. “I do.”

A warm glow settled around her heart. She basked in it for a
long moment. “And I trust you.” She allowed a slow smile to curve her lips.
“Did I tell you I found something that might be even more,” she paused
meaningfully, “stimulating than a feather?”

A flame kindled in his eyes. “I thought the feather was your
favorite. I must admit I’m rather fond of it myself. It had applications I
never dreamed possible.”

An answering heat melted her insides. She cleared her
throat. “Um. The feather has its uses, I agree, but I think I found something
even more versatile.” Riana sauntered over to the desk, a provocative swing to
her hips. “It just so happens I have it here.”

“In the office?”

“Interested?”

“Do I get a turn this time?” he asked, his hands already on
the laces of his old tunic.

A trend the rest of the women were slow to adopt. Maybe once
she and Darias began working as a true team that would change. She grinned,
picturing the men’s relief at pitching the revealing thongs and leather
harnesses.

Riana pursed her lips and pretended to think. “Well…”

“Teamwork,” he reminded her before dropping the tunic to the
floor and starting on his breeches. The soft leather did nothing to hide his
growing arousal.

Desire made her mouth go dry. Riana licked her lips. “I
think that might be arranged.” She fumbled inside a drawer, not taking her eyes
off Darias as he shed his breeches. Her hand closed around the leather binding
of a book.

The Damsel and the Dragon.

She started to lift it out then changed her mind. She didn’t
need the dragon in the book. Not when she had her own, real live dragon.

Maybe she’d give the book to Bryta.

She closed the drawer.

A private smile lifted her lips.

Perhaps after she and Darias had recreated all the love
scenes.

She opened a different drawer. Her hand closed about a
length of soft material and she held it up.

“A piece of cloth?”

She drew the deep amethyst material through her fingers with
deliberate slowness. “Any ideas yet?”

Darias smiled, a slight curve of his lips. “Oh, I think I
can come up with one or two.”

And three and four.

He sank to his knees on the rich, burgundy rug, taking Riana
with him. Slowly, he reached out and closed his hand over the material, right
above hers.

Just as slowly, she released it.

Curious, Darias studied the cloth. In some ways it reminded
him of the colorful, arm-length scarves the women wore in the open-air markets,
but there was an odd metallic sheen to this material. He hefted the scarf,
surprised to discover it was as light as a leaf on a breeze. Darias squeezed
it, liking the sensuous feel of the material against his palm. He nearly
dropped the cloth when it seemed to pulse in response to his touch.

“It’s alive!”

Riana gave a throaty murmur of amusement. “No, it is
responding to the biochemical signals in your skin.” She walked two fingers up
his thigh until she was touching both him and the cloth. “Different emotions
give off different biochemicals, and no two people’s biochemical signatures are
the same. The cloth simply reacts.”

Darias was utterly conscious of her light touch on his hand.
It was amazing how a simple touch from this woman could send heat coursing
through his veins. The scarf grew warm, as did his simmering blood.

“Take your clothes off.” He wanted—no, he needed—to see her
fully.

“Take them off for me,” she murmured.

All too aware that his hands were shaking, he placed the
scarf around his neck. He fumbled at the first fastener of her tunic, muffling
a curse when he heard the unmistakable sound of cloth tearing. The back of his
neck heated with embarrassment. Krel, this was so much easier when she was in
charge.

“Hurry.” Her breathy plea erased his discomfort.

Within moments, he had the tunic off and discarded on the
floor. His hands on the waistband of her breeches, Darias paused. Sucking a
deep breath between his teeth, he dropped his head and fought for a measure of
control.

“Darias?”

“Shh, it’s all right. I’m not going anywhere.” He had to do
this right. Too often in the past, he’d taken while holding part of himself
back. This time he was going to give. As much as he loved her taking control,
it was her pleasure that was paramount now.

Keeping one hand on her waist, he scooted until he was
behind her. He slipped off the leather tie holding her hair, freeing the
glorious mass to fall in a living river of color. He removed the scarf from
around his neck and, carefully lifted her hair and slipped the scarf around
hers, leaving the ends to dangle over her breasts.

Each intake of air, each movement, caused the ends to brush
the tips of her breasts.

Still on his knees, he pulled Riana between his spread
thighs. Sliding his hands around his waist, he opened her breeches. Brushing
the dark red triangle between her legs with the tips of his fingers, he began
placing tiny kisses down her spine. Every so often, he tugged on her hair with
his lips, just to see the shiver race down her spine.

Riana moaned when he reached the small of her back, the
sound vibrating a responding chord deep inside him.

She began a primal rocking motion.

He caught her hips and held her still as he painted an
intricate pattern at the curve of her waist. No longer sure who he was teasing
the most with the slow seduction, and at the end of his control, he lifted her
slightly and shoved her breeches down over her firm bottom and off her legs.

She tried to turn in his arms.

Darias refused to let her, tucking her back firmly between
his knees. “My turn,” he reminded her, barely able to form the words. Darias
drew his hands up, over her flat belly, to the slight ridges of her ribs, up
until he had trapped the silky material of the scarf between his palms and her
breasts.

The material heated and pulsed.

Riana gave a quivery little moan of desire.

In a heartbeat, he had lifted Riana up and around, so that
she was straddling his waist. His mouth closed over her breast, pulling
strongly at the taut nipple.

Riana’s head tilted back and her fingers bit into his upper
arms. She moved restlessly in his arms.

The fragrance of her arousal filled his senses. Holding her
tight against him with one arm, he used the other to lower her to the floor,
following her down, his mouth still at her breast.

He pulled back, looking at his handiwork. The crest of her
breast was flushed a deep red, furled and begging for more kisses. Satisfaction
roared through him. He didn’t even try to hide his arrogant smile.

She glanced at him from between lowered lashes. The heat in
her gaze was enough to set him ablaze.

He stared at her, unable to get enough of her honest need.
Even as he watched, the amethyst material covering her breast seemed to take on
a silver shimmer in the muted light of the storm.

Taking one end of the material in his hand, he drew it down
her body, his gaze locked with hers.

Her breath caught and she arched under his ministrations.
Darias lifted first one leg, and then the other, placing them over his
shoulders, leaving Riana wide open to his touch. He waited, giving her time to
object.

She smiled at him.

His heart stopped in his chest at the implicit trust in her
smile. Light as the gossamer wings of a honeybird, he slid the scarf from
around her neck, over her breasts and down her stomach. His mouth followed the
same path. Beneath his lips, he felt a muscle in her stomach contract sharply.
Her scent filled his head.

Could he do this outside of punishment? Could he put his
mouth on Riana, arouse and fulfill her?

His mouth went dry, a lifetime of tradition shouting a
warning in his head. Telling him he was weak to choose a woman’s pleasure over
his duty as a warrior.

Riana shifted, and her hands came up to cradle his head.

He figuratively turned his back on the voices of the past.
Weak to give her pleasure instead of humiliation? To take his own in her arms?

He hadn’t known what true strength was until he tried to
master Riana and instead discovered the steel in her spine.

Discovered what love felt like in her arms.

He froze.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He loved her. A chill deeper than
any he’d felt before washed over Darias. After all he’d done to her, trying to
crush her spirit, humiliating her in front of not only his warriors, but her
friends, how could she ever love him back?

Krel, fate could be cruel. Love wasn’t an emotion Nexarian
custom encouraged. Strength, loyalty, duty. Yes, they were all concepts drilled
into him since a child.

But not love.

Darias wanted to rage, to slam his fist into something. To
find a woman he loved only to learn his own actions had ruined any chance of
gaining love in return…

“Darias?” Riana breathed, naked hunger in her sultry tones.

He shoved his despair aside. He’d deal with his revelation
later. Now, now he would give her this.

Stretching the material between the soft folds of her
feminine flesh, he pulled it taut. He closed his mouth over both Riana and the
material. Little currents eddied out, sending jolts of pleasure from his mouth
to her.

“Darias!” Riana screamed as her body began tiny, internal
convulsions.

He took his time loving her with his mouth, despite her
pleas and demands to finish it, running his tongue from the cloth-covered
swollen nub to her opening. Darias felt her unmistakable reaction as wave after
wave of powerful shivers quivered inside her.