The Devil's Concubine (6 page)

nodded, and rose, summoning several guards and heading purposefully toward the

dungeon and the unconscious man who lay there--unless he’d come around and had the

presence of mind to flee while he could.

She didn’t know why
she
felt guilty! It was not
her
fault the man was a fool, or his master so ill tempered!

She forgot the discomfiture of guilt, however, when Talin turned and headed

toward the tower stair they’d descended before. In vain, she tried to put on brakes. She’d had more than enough time to relive those moments in the tower many times and she

could only conclude that the fear had, temporarily at least, turned her mind. She knew very well that, as a princess, she should embrace death before dishonor, and if she could think of some way to do so short of taking a leap off the tower balcony she might be able to gather the courage to do so, but she rather thought she would prefer that he kill her now than to take her up there again. Everything inside of her clenched at the thought of being surrounded again by sky and space. Even the stone walls had seemed shaky and

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insubstantial when virtually all that met her gaze in any direction she looked was clouds and air.

She could not endure it, she thought a little wildly. She would die of pure fright.

Talin halted when he finally became aware that her feet, instead of moving, were

skidding along the stones. Turning, he frowned at her curiously.

Aliya threw caution and dignity to the wind. “Kill me now! Just kill me! Do not

torture me. I can not bear it. Truly, I can not!”

Talin looked as if she’d slapped him. The moment the look of stunned

incomprehension left his face, though, he reddened with both anger and embarrassment.

Hauling her against his chest, he glared at her nose to nose. “If you screech at me one more time, wench, I might well be tempted to throttle you!”

“Do it,” she babbled, far more fearful of the terrible height than she was of his

terrible temper. “I won’t go up there! I won’t!”

Uttering a growl that was one part anger and two parts frustration, he grabbed her

around the waist and hauled her over his shoulder. Stunned, the breath knocked from her by the hard shoulder she landed on, Talin was halfway up the spiral stairs by the time she recovered enough to begin to struggle.

“NO! You fiend! You animal! Put me down! Put me down this instant!” she

screamed, pounding on any part of him she could reach.

He smacked a hand against her buttocks. The sting wasn’t nearly as potent as her

stunned surprise and dawning outrage. However, before she could vent her indignation, he reached the top of the long, winding flight of stairs, crossed a short corridor and stepped through an arch, setting her abruptly on her feet.

She was in the tower room, she knew, and squeezed her eyes shut, afraid even to

move. The slamming of a wooden door against stone frame work sent a jolt through her and she opened her eyes as she felt herself wavering and in danger of falling. To her stunned surprise, the room was cloaked in gloom save for branches of candles placed

here and there.

It was night?

Feeling slightly better, Aliya pivoted slowly where she stood, her gaze searching

the walls for window embrasures.

Shutters, she discovered, had been fastened over each and there was a door

leading to the balcony where before there had been nothing at all! Relief flooded her that was so profound it brought stinging tears to her eyes and nose. She sniffed them back, glancing around warily for Talin when she remembered she’d fought him all the way up

the stairs.

He was leaning against the door, his arms crossed over his broad chest, an

indecipherable expression on his face.

Feeling sheepish, she sent him a faintly apologetic look. “I thought … I

thought....”

His lips thinned. “I know what you thought.”

Surprise went through her. “You do?” she asked doubtfully.

Shoving away from the door, he moved slowly toward her. “Yes.”

Abruptly, Aliya realized he must think she’d been fighting for her virtue, when

the truth was that her maidenhead was the furthest thing from her mind. She’d already THE DEVIL’S CONCUBINE

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opened her mouth to inform him of that when it occurred to her that she didn’t especially want to disabuse him of the notion that she preferred death to ravishment by man beast.

She knew she should.

She was ruined now, whether he took her maidenhead or not, for no one would

ever believe he hadn’t and no one would want her. It would have been bad enough if he was merely a man, but he wasn’t and that would make it that much worse.

She wasn’t completely certain of how it could possibly be any worse, but she

knew it would be.

“You are not as repulsed by me as you would have me believe,” he murmured,

halting mere inches from her and brushing the backs of the fingers of one hand lightly along her cheek.

He’d noticed that? She thought, feeling embarrassment pulse in her cheeks,

flushing them with heat--which she very much feared he would notice and misinterpret as desire. “Your arrogance is only surpassed by your ego, Sire,” she murmured tightly.

“And yet you didn’t deny it.”

Aliya gave him a look. “You would be deaf to it,” she said, discovering that she

felt vaguely breathless by his nearness.

He caught her hands, pushing them behind her back and drawing her closer. She

twisted her face away, presenting him with her neck. “I suppose you think that you have only to kiss me and I will swoon and beg for more,” she gasped, trying to swallow when her mouth had gone dry.

He nipped her earlobe, his heated breath teasing her ear and sending currents of

sensation through her that seemed to sharpen her awareness of him. His scent filled her nostrils, teased her tongue with his taste. His heat cloaked her. The hard muscles of his body tantalized her, barely brushing her with each frantic breath she took. “You may keep your kisses if it pleases you to withhold them,” he whispered against her ear,

catching both of her wrists in one hand and lifting the other to push the shoulder of her gown down. “I had something else in mind.”

Feeling strangely weak and light headed, Aliya was scarcely aware of any

purpose to the stroke of his hand along her skin until she felt him dip beneath her bodice and cup one rounded breast. She gasped then, stiffened, trying to draw away as he lifted it from her bodice, but it was too late. His mouth settled over the distended tip, closed tightly upon her flesh. Her belly clenched as he sucked it, teasing her nipple with his tongue. Heat, like molten fire flowed through her, pouring into her lower belly and

spawning a strange sense of excitement and need.

“S..stop,” she finally managed to whisper shakily, although by that time she

wasn’t at all certain she wanted him to stop.

He ignored the command, continuing to suckle and tease her breast until she’d

begun to feel as if she would faint. When he finally lifted his head to look at her, disappointment flooded her and it took all she could do to lift her eyelids to look back at him.

“As you please,” he murmured, straightening.

Aliya stared at him blankly, feeling curiously bereft that he’d stopped.

“No doubt you’re tired. I will send a maid to help you to bathe and prepare for

bed,” he murmured, releasing her and stepping away.

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Still confused, feeling achy and oddly discomfited, Aliya merely stared at him.

Finally, uncomfortable beneath his gaze, she turned away, looking around the great room at the sparse furnishings--for it contained little besides the huge bed in the center, an odd assortment of chests and tables, and a single chair. “I have no clothes,” she murmured, feeling suddenly lost and more alone that she could ever recall in her life.

“I will send for your belongings in a few days. In the meanwhile, I’m sure the

maids can find something for you. Are you hungry?” he asked abruptly when she merely turned and stared at him blankly.

“You will send for my belongings?”

He shrugged. “Aye. When the army your father is amassing moves off. I’ve no

desire to lose good men gathering your trinkets.”

Aliya felt her jaw sag. He had dismissed her father and his army as with no more

than a shrug for the inconvenience to himself? Abruptly, all of the emotion she’d been holding at bay flooded into her in a chaotic storm. She was too enraged to think of

anything to say, however.

Turning away when she remained mute, he strode toward the door they had

entered but paused there, turning to glance at her again. Abruptly, as his gaze raked her bodice, Aliya became aware of her dishabille and grasped the shoulder of her gown,

straightening the bodice and covering her breast. His lips thinned. “The shutters are bolted as well as yon door.”

Aliya glanced at them, realizing belatedly that he had not covered them for her

comfort but to make sure she couldn’t make another attempt to destroy herself.

The arrogant cad!

“I don’t care for them,” he added thoughtfully. “Perhaps over the next few days

you can entertain yourself with creating a design the carpenters can carve into them?”

At the comment, Aliya turned from her contemplation to look at him again,

allowing a faint smile to curl her lips. “I would rather entertain myself with the design I would like to carve into your hide,” she said with false sweetness.

His brows rose, but in a moment a smile curled one corner of his well etched lips.

Instead of commenting on the episode between them a few moments before, however, as

she more than half feared he would, he merely said, “You will stay here.”

“And where will you be staying, your grace?”

His smile flattened. “Here.”

“Then you may want to consider sleeping in armor.”

He didn’t look the least disconcerted by the threat. He seemed to consider it, but

finally shook his head. “I prefer to sleep naked,” he murmured, his golden eyes glinting with both humor and promise. Turning then, he quit the room before she could gather the presence of mind to find something to hurl at him.

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If Aliya had given it any thought, she would have been certain that she was not

only not hungry but that the thought of food alone was enough to make her feel ill after all she’d been through. She discovered, though, that her stomach wasn’t as delicate as her sensibilities. The maids arrived as promised, one with a tray of food and another with a stack of folded fabric that Aliya rightly assumed was the clothes that were on loan until Talin could have her ‘trinkets’ fetched.

That rankled. It was bad enough to be kidnapped by the spawn of the underworld

gods and to be held against her will, but to have her needs and comfort dismissed as

nothing more significant than ‘trinkets’ made her feel just as insignificant. If he had such a low opinion of her, she couldn’t imagine why he’d gone to such trouble.

Unless it had been sheer contrariness and the desire to create disharmony?

She could easily have believed that, except that she couldn’t think of any reason

at all why he’d want to pick a fight with her father.

She was inclined to dismiss the ‘great insult’ he claimed. He was certainly very

proud. She could see that, but he considered all of the unnaturals, himself in particular, to be far superior to the naturals. He had as much as said that he did not consider her worthy of being his queen, and that being the case it seemed unreasonable to
also
be insulted by anything the ‘lesser’ beings beneath him did.

Why should he care that he’d been excluded?

Dismissing it after a time as an unsolvable riddle, she ate the food that had been

brought, enjoying it far more, she felt, than she should have under the circumstances, and watched while the maids brought in a tub and prepared a bath.

Her belly clenched in dread.

She wanted a bath. More than that, she needed one after all the time she’d spent

in that devil’s dungeon, but he’d ensconced her in his suite. She could not be certain that she would have privacy to bathe and she was fairly sure that, if it was possible to die of mortification, she would if he came in and watched.

She was very torn. The other considerations aside, she felt her dignity had

suffered a very great deal already and it went against the grain to allow him to know just how scared she was about the entire situation and how unnerved she was about the

possibility of being observed in her bath. She wanted to present a façade, at least, of royal unconcern--perhaps even disdain.

By the time she’d finished eating and the bath was prepared, she’d decided she

would have her bath and to hell with the man--beast--whatever. She was sore from

everything that had happened, and dirty, and tense. A hot bath would go a long way

toward improving her outlook.

She was tense, though, while the maids helped her undress and then assisted her

into the tub. Vaguely relieved that he hadn’t suddenly appeared in the midst of that part of the process, she found she still couldn’t relax and actually enjoy the bath. Instead, she THE DEVIL’S CONCUBINE

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rushed through it, hopping out as soon as she’d bathed and grabbing the drying cloth to wrap herself.

She discovered then that the only ‘clothing’ the maids had brought for her was

night dresses. Shock very quickly gave way to anger, but it was already too late. The maids had taken her gown away and, when she demanded to have it back, explained that