SurrendersMischief (7 page)

“They understand that without their cooperation, the economy
will fail. They understand that gives them power.” Gaith began unsaddling
Darias’ mount.

“Have you discovered which of the guilds is behind this
strike?” Darias was already striding back toward the keep even as Gaith slipped
the bridle off the
chelan
and turned the stallion into a stall.

“Not yet.” Gaith hurried and fell into step alongside
Darias, his usually cheerful face grim. “They could hold you hostage to their
demands.”

The smile Darias gave his first-in-command made the other
man fall back a pace. “Only if they have a taste for blood.”

Darias pulled open the massive wooden door to the keep. “I
want you to call together the leaders of all the guilds.” He stifled a sigh and
turned back to his friend. “And bring Riana to me in the Great Hall.”

Chapter Six

Riana kept her eyes defiantly high, fighting a rising tide
of uneasiness as she worked her way through the throng of people in the Great
Hall. It had been three days since her punishment in the garden, and Darias was
still in the keep. Why didn’t he leave?

Not that Riana saw much of him. Other than ordering her to
attend him in the Great Hall the morning after her punishment, he’d kept
conspicuously busy. Coward. She was still riled over the mortification he’d put
her through that day.

Darias had put her on display beside him on the dais like a
prime riding
chelan
on a Gregorian auction block. She’d been forced to
display the lingering agony of unfulfilled desire while the warriors in the
wall watched, not even trying hide their satisfaction.

That ridiculous excuse for an outfit she was required to
wear had served a dual purpose—to reveal her continued arousal and to prolong
it. The soft silk rubbed against her distended nipples, had kept them in a
state of arousal while the open girdle that rode low on her hips and trailed
intimately between her legs, not only accentuated each rounded curve of her
buttocks but stimulated the tab of hidden flesh.

Darias had given her no place to hide.

Worse than facing the warriors and servants, however, was
facing the women. Despite her vow to remain silent, her screams and pleas had
echoed from the battlements. She hadn’t been able to help herself she’d been so
frantic with the need for release. Each and every one of them understood
intimately what she was experiencing.

Their pity was unbearable.

Riana’s hands clenched at her sides and her throat ached
anew with the urge to rage at Darias. He’d wanted to make it clear to warriors
and women alike, the price she’d paid for not conforming to Nexarian ways.

What he hadn’t counted on was setting fire to her desire for
revenge. Now, more than escape, she craved vengeance.

Ripples of excitement fanned out from the knot of men in the
center of the Hall. The ripple became a wave and, amidst the cacophony of male
voices, Riana heard just one word clearly, “Challenge.” She turned to the
nearest woman.

“What’s going on? What is this about a challenge? Who is
being challenged?” she whispered. A week ago she wouldn’t have even thought
about lowering her voice, but that last punishment had managed to teach her a
measure of caution if not resignation.

“A Battle of Honor is going to take place.” The woman bowed
her head, using her hair as a shield.

Riana realized she was afraid to be seen talking to her. “A
what?”

“A Battle of Honor. A warrior has taken exception to the
Supreme Chief’s order. A warrior has foolishly allowed his anger to better his
judgment.”

“You mean that because some warrior has spoken his mind,
Darias is going to fight him?” Riana asked, incredulous.

“It is a matter of honor. A challenge has been issued and
must be answered.”

Riana was still busy trying to take in what she’d just
learned. “So, what you are telling me is Darias, the Supreme Chief,” she
corrected, “would lose face if he allowed a challenge to go unanswered?”

“The Supreme Chief’s word is law but, unlike his father, he
allows the ancient rite of Challenge. He maintains his authority while showing
he respects disagreement.”

“I see.” Riana tapped her bottom lip with the tip of one
slender finger. “Tell me. Are women allowed to watch?”

“Yes. It is encouraged as a Battle of Honor is meant to be
observed by all.”

“Come on. Let’s go.” Riana slipped between two hulking
warriors, intent on finding a more advantageous site from which to view the
match. “This is something I wouldn’t miss for all the profit in a hold.”

As luck would have it, she found a spot right up front.
Riana claimed it despite several disapproving looks from nearby warriors.

A circle roughly ten meters in diameter was quickly cleared.
Darias and his opponent stripped to the waist. Gaith attached a small, circular
device to each man’s back.

“What are those?” Riana asked, as the other woman came up
beside her.

“When a man’s shoulders are pinned to the floor, they signal
the end of the match.”

“Hush, women.” A warrior standing next to Riana barked out
the order. She shot him a resentful glance from under lowered lids but
continued watching in silence.

The challenging warrior started the match with a lunging
punch, which Darias easily sidestepped. Punch after punch, the challenger
attacked Darias, and it soon became apparent that his opponent was woefully
outmatched. Darias moved with a smooth grace that was beautiful to watch. No
needless energy was expended as he circled the larger man, seeking an opening.
He soon found it and lashed out with a lightning-quick left. The man’s head
snapped back. Darias closed in and hefted the other man over his shoulder. The
man landed, stunned, on his back. A high-pitched electronic signal marked the
count. On the eighth count, the man staggered to his feet.

Two more lefts and then a right, and the man was out cold,
the device on his back bleating out a continuous signal.

“Remove him. When he wakes, tell him he is no longer a part
of my personal guard. I will not have a man abuse his power.” Darias glared at
the crowd. “Gaith, tell his concubine the Council will find her a new master.
Until such time, she may stay in the keep.” He stalked through the crowd until
he reached the open door to his office on the left side of the Hall. The sound
of the door slamming behind him as he disappeared inside echoed all the way to
the high ceiling.

“This was over a woman?” Try as she might, Riana couldn’t
keep the total disbelief out of her voice.

The warrior who had shushed her before aimed a disdainful
glance down at Riana. “This isn’t over a woman. This is over disobedience. The
warrior, Maric, shouldn’t have questioned his leader.”

Riana ignored his admonishment and let a long, slow smile
curve her lips.

Now Darias would pay.

* * * * *

Darias stood beside the bed, staring at Riana as she slept.
How did one woman have such influence over him? Even after spending long hours
contemplating that very question, it was as incomprehensible as ever.

Less than a quarter of a cycle ago, the plight of Maric’s
woman would have gone unnoticed by him. What a man did with his slave was his
own business, so long as she was not physically harmed. But when he had heard
Maric offering the services of the woman as part of a business deal, rage had
flared swift and hot. Part of it stemmed from the sheer misery he saw on the
woman’s face, most of the blame for his actions, however, fell squarely on the
shoulders of the woman sleeping so peacefully in his bed.

She’d made it impossible for him to ignore such behavior.

Life was much simpler before her ship had crashed.

He reached out and drew a strand of her hair between his
fingers. Spidersilk spun by the finest artisans on the Far Islands and smuggled
into Nexar by Zarcasian pirates wasn’t this soft. Fanned out against the
space-deep blue of his pillows, the rich color of her hair glowed like the
heart of an ember in the dim light offered by the single lamp.

He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t come.

He found couldn’t stay away.

Darias undressed slowly, keeping his gaze on Riana all the
while. He could do this, take his pleasure yet remain in control. The night in
the garden flashed through his mind. Then, despite the ritual of punishment,
he’d come dangerously close to losing himself in her body. Tonight would be
different. Tonight he’d prove exactly where her place was and who commanded her
body.

And his.

When he was naked, he pulled the sheet down to the foot of
the bed. He put one knee on the bed but hesitated to get fully on it.

Krel, he wanted her. So much it scared him, yet he couldn’t
help but touch her.

He unlaced the ties of her nightdress, carefully so as not
to wake her, and opened it, his breath catching in his throat from the vision
of her naked flesh. Her firm breasts were just large enough to fit into the
palm of his hand. He cupped one in his right hand, her skin pale and smooth
compared to his. It felt so right.

She shifted and sighed under his touch.

Darias slid his hand down, slowly undoing the gown as he
went.

Riana moved her legs restlessly, opening them even though
still asleep.

The triangle of darker red hair and the deep shadow between
her slightly parted legs sent blood coursing through his veins. His breathing
became fast and unsteady.

He lowered his head and touched his mouth to the side of her
neck. Her scent filled his head. She smelled like the crystal flame, a rare
flower that bloomed only at night around a single, high mountain lake deep in
the heart of the jungle. A scent that was both provocatively sweet and woodsy.
He braced his hands on either side of her body, trailing his mouth to the
hollow of her throat. Darias wasn’t sure he would survive this slow, steady
conquest, but he intended to try.

More than that, he had to prove it to himself.

He placed wet kisses down between the soft mounds of her
breasts. He raised his head and blew across her breasts.

Her nipples hardened immediately and she moaned.

Darias drew one nipple into his mouth and sucked. He moved
his hand between her thighs. Krel, she was wet already.

Then it came to him what he was doing. His head reared back
and he gritted his teeth as he fought for control. No, he would not behave in
this manner. He was Supreme Chief, not some untried youth who could not tame
his hormones and hold to Nexarian law. A law created centuries ago so that men
would not succumb to the debilitating lure of women.

Riana’s hand came up to cup his head in sleepy protest.

He resisted her urging to lower his head again.

“Darias?” She lifted long lashes, revealing a questioning
gaze darkened with passion. Darias covered her mouth with his, stilling the question.

Her tongue tangled with his. Her hand unerringly found his
cock and began caressing him.

Darias nearly shot up off the bed. He removed her hand from
his member, twining his fingers with hers, and pinned her hands to the
mattress.

She nibbled on his neck and her foot rubbed up the back of
his leg.

He slid down her body, ignoring her murmured objection that
changed to a purr when he placed his mouth on the back of her knee and painted
intricate patterns with his tongue. She curled her leg up and over his
shoulder, opening herself to him completely. The spicy scent of her arousal was
the most potent aphrodisiac he’d ever experienced.

Darias forgot about making slow love to Riana, he forgot
about making the point to her that he was in control, he even forgot the most
basic tenet that decreed such things were not allowed outside of punishment.
All he knew was that he had to have her.

He drew her clit into his mouth, circling it with his tongue
before sucking strongly on it. He tested her readiness, slipping one finger
into her moist heat.

Her sheath closed, tight and hot, around him.

He couldn’t wait any longer. Threading his fingers through
hers and pressing them to the sheet on each side of her head, he surged up over
her body and thrust his cock into her in the same motion.

Riana’s hands tightened around his.

He pumped in and out of her sex, lost in her welcoming
warmth as it clung to his flesh. His balls drew up tight. Krel, no. No. Not
yet. Darias gritted his teeth as the base of his spine tingled, warning him of
impending release. “No,” he groaned as he lost the battle and his release
poured forth.

He collapsed, spent.

Head next to hers on the pillow, he drew labored breaths
into his lungs. Hot puffs of air heated his ear.

She wriggled.

Darias realized he was too heavy for her and rolled to one
side, a forearm over his eyes.

A niggling awareness of having failed somehow jarred his
contentment. He frowned. He’d just had the best sex of his life, what could be
wrong? A yawn cracked his jaw. Tomorrow. He’d work it out tomorrow.

* * * * *

Riana awoke after a restless night. For a while last night,
she’d been certain she’d seen more of Darias’ layers at last. Sleepy as she’d
been, the thought had flitted through her mind that if she peeled them back far
enough, she’d find something she could use, or even find the man beneath the
barbarian. For a moment, before lust had scattered her wits, she thought she’d
succeeded. He seemed…she didn’t know…so vulnerable.

She snorted silently. As if there were anything vulnerable
about the man. All he cared about was his own pleasure. Look at the way he
turned over when he was finished, leaving her unfulfilled. For the first time,
she’d truly felt like his slave.

Staring at the carved ceiling, Riana went over her plan to
goad Darias into accepting a challenge. It was risky, but she was counting on
his belief that all women were intrinsically weak.