TICEES (47 page)

“Korba allowed no documentation, my Lord. I was to do the testing alone and give him an oral report only. Nothing was ever written down or entered into the computers.”

Ticees rested his hands on his hips and hung his head, a wry smile on his lips. Of course. Korba was too bright to leave anything for the Breeders to get a hold of, and he should have expected as much from the Overlord. Ticees looked back at Stose. “So what did the report contain?”

Stose hesitated, shifting his weight uneasily. “Korba ordered that information to remain confidential, only to be discussed between him and me. Even Chelan has not heard all the details.”

Ticees clenched his jaw. “I don’t care who ordered it to be confidential. I am ordering you to tell me!”

Stose faltered, his face registering his realization that he had no choice. “She is compatible with the Iceanean men, my Lord. Her genetics are splendid by Earth’s standards and very good by Iceanean.” Stose’s mouth dried. “She has some flaws, but they require genes donated by her mate to replicate in the offspring, and Korba has no such genes.”

Ticees’s eyes narrowed. “Do they plan a child?”

Stose’s stomach turned. “Yes, my Lord,” he whispered.

Ticees hesitated. He wanted to ask about Chelan’s safety if she were to become pregnant but he thought better of it. “Thank you, Stose. You’ve been more than helpful. And I have no doubts that you will forget that we ever spoke here today. Remember, the Lady Chelan is going to require your specialized services for many decades to come. It would be indeed unfortunate if your tongue slipped pertaining to this little visit and your services were unexpectedly—and permanently—curtailed.”

Stose became positively ashen, and Ticees nodded to him. The Emperor turned to leave. “You have a good day, doctor.”

“Thank you,” Stose whispered, and he collapsed into his chair.

*****

The day’s activities went well, but Ticees was having a hard time keeping his mind on his men and his duties. The fact that Chelan came into estrus so often was remarkable, and Ticees saw his chance. He needed an heir to his Empire, and Chelan was perfect. Her bloodline was more similar to his own than were Iceanean women’s, and their offspring would maintain his pale flesh and the deep brown eyes—exotic coloring on Iceanea, but common on his long-forgotten world.

If he talked Chelan into a pregnancy before Korba’s return, it would sever her ties to the man once and for all. The great Warlord would either have to accept the situation or take Ticees’ action as a direct challenge to the Let. If they fought, which Ticees knew was inevitable, he would win both ways. If he defeated Korba, Chelan was his and all was well. If he lost, it did not matter. Chelan would still bear the badly needed heir, and the Empire would continue with his line.

Ticees shuddered. The problem came in the form of Chelan herself. He knew that her refusal was guaranteed, and that was a hurdle he simply had to conquer.

Ticees returned to his chambers, his thoughts running rampant in his mind as he considered his alternatives. Timing was critical, and he had to get her to his bed willingly. She would not know about the physical differences between himself and the Iceanean men. He had to seduce her while she was in estrus, and she would find out too late that the men of his world could not separate orgasm from ejaculation.

Ticees winced. And then there were the Breeders. The act had to be witnessed and documented, and because of that, Chelan had to consent. He could not force her in front of the Guild, for not even the Emperor was above punishment for rape.

Then Ticees considered another possible outcome of his move. Maybe there would be no challenge forthcoming from the Warlord, and Ticees grinned slyly. It was perfect. If she conceived, she would be his, for he knew that Korba could not possibly accept the fact that she was pregnant by another man. But Ticees also knew the little alien well: out of her love for Korba, she would dissuade him from challenging, telling him that she had chosen to become Empress, thereby saving her beloved man from his untimely death. It was simple, and it was a dream come true.

Ticees flopped on his bed, not sure he believed his own deviousness. But he was desperate. He wanted Chelan more than ever now out of love, lust, and necessity. As time went by, it was becoming more and more clear that she was going to remain loyal to Korba, be he present or absent. That forced Ticees to take drastic measures to procure her, and that drastic measure was her impregnation. Now the problem was her willingness, and he had so little time.

Ticees shook his head. Solving that problem would come. Right now, he had to keep track of her cycles, and he knew exactly how to do that. Instantly he was on his feet, ordering his maid to his chambers.

“Yes, my Lord,” she acknowledged.

“The Lady Chelan keeps a supply of pills in her nightstand. Tomorrow, when she is out, I want them counted, and every day thereafter. The next time each container is one pill short, I want you to report to me.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Ticees looked at her sternly, his voice low and commanding. “You speak to no one of this ever, or your death will be swift. Heed this warning specifically if Commander Korba ever questions you.”

“Yes, my Lord. It is understood.” And with that she left.

Ticees then set about planning his next moves with Chelan. He would continue to treat her like the princess she was to him, which was not difficult, and he would tell her of Korba’s delay. He had to sooner or later, and if he was lucky, there was always the possibility that the news would not force her away from him. Hopefully she trusted him enough by now to realize that the delay was legitimate and unavoidable, and not something he had manufactured. If all else failed, he could show her all the incoming data from the operations, thereby verifying the mission extension.

*****

The next two weeks went well, and Ticees had been overjoyed at how well Chelan had accepted the news about the delay. She had been temporarily depressed, but she did not hold him responsible. Ticees remained close to her at all times and took her out on reconnaissance trips often. He adjusted his own schedules and meetings to coincide with her biological clock and attended her every need and whim.

Then the day Ticees had waited for finally arrived, and the maid reported to him. Ticees counted ten Iceanean days forward and cleared all his activities away from that time. Nothing could interfere with his plans.

He wasted no time in going to the Breeding Guild and selecting four highly reliable men for the documentation. He threatened them with death if any information leaked anywhere, and that included within the Guild itself. Secrecy was paramount until after the conception had been witnessed and the embryo’s viability tested. The Guildsmen agreed unquestioningly, and all timing was orchestrated precisely.

In the meantime, Ticees started arranging even more time with Chelan in his chambers, talking warmly with her as they dined and drank exotic liquors from around the galaxy.

Chelan appreciated his attention and enjoyed the fact that she always had his company just before she was to retire. She had been shocked at the size of his wine cellars and his vast collection of all types of exotic spirits, and she loved trying something different each night. He had finally become a friend in her eyes, and she now trusted him within reason. He had never touched her sexually, and she was now totally at ease with the giant man. In fact, she found that she could admit to actually caring for him, but she still could not take their relationship past a close friendship, and she was more than content with that.

*****

Soon, the fateful day was upon him, and Ticees woke up in the morning and immediately began pacing, his nerves frayed. The day before he’d had many second thoughts, but his evening with Chelan had been exceptionally warm, and it had renewed his desires and his determination. She was no longer skittish to his touch and even accepted the odd benign kiss on the cheek.

But Ticees was on the verge of panic as he thought about the evening. He was relying on her subordinate attitudes and her submissive personality to work to his advantage. But there was always the chance she would resist. Fortunately, he had a plan for that also.

Chelan walked unannounced into his chambers, completely unnerving him. “Chelan,” he gasped.

Chelan halted her advance. “I’m sorry, my Lord. Are you okay?”

Ticees turned from her as he collected himself. “Yes, I’m fine,” he lied.

But Chelan could see his body’s betrayal of his words, and she knew that something of momentous proportions was disturbing him. “My Lord,” she whispered with anxiety. “Are the ships safe?”

Ticees turned to her and smiled. “Yes,” he exhaled. “They are fine. There was some trouble in the training fields late last night, and I was just a little upset.”

Chelan paused. She had never seen him so agitated. Then she walked up to him, her deep brown eyes on his. She could not help but notice his muscle tension. She frowned. “You should seek out someone to give you a …” She hesitated, realizing there was no Iceanean word for massage.

Ticees squinted at her. “My Lady?”

Chelan glanced at him. “On Earth, athletes and anyone suffering from muscle tension go to trained people for something called a massage, a form of muscle manipulation. Surely you have people here for that?”

Ticees shook his head. “Not that I am aware of. We use healing spas and have other devices for such things.”

Chelan then remembered the spa Dar had immersed her in, and the device that Yanis had used on her shoulder after she had been wounded. But then she thought of Fremma and his attentive work over her, and she smiled. “I’ll be damned.”

Ticees stared at her. “A memory?”

“Yes, from a time long ago. Anyway, it appears you have no need for such a procedure, but really, at times, they are to die for.”

“You’ve had one, this massage you speak of?” His interest was suddenly piqued.

“Uh huh.”

“On Earth?”

“Actually, no. I had a partial one on board RIBUS 7 before I knew that you had other means to ease tense or damaged muscles.” Chelan almost giggled. Fremma had indeed known what he was doing when he
helped
her so long ago.

Ticees’ brows rose. “Would you consider giving me one? I am curious.”

Chelan clutched her hands to her chest in surprise. “Oh … I—I really don’t know how, my Lord.”

Ticees shrugged and smiled. “You could try. I will be your willing subject. I will chalk it up to research on alien practices. And the plus side is, I won’t really know if you have done this procedure properly or not.”

Chelan hesitated but then warmed to the playfulness that graced his handsome features. “Okay,” she finally whispered. “I will try to work out a knot or two, providing I can find them in the first place.” And then she burst out laughing.

Ticees was elated, her spontaneous gaiety washing over him, cloaking him in desire while warming his heart. Everything was working out so perfectly. “Okay, what do I do?”

Chelan smoothed her hands down her gown and then pointed to the bed. “I need you to take off your jacket and lie on your stomach, hands by your sides.”

Ticees nodded and backed away from her, discarding his jacket and then lying on the bed as she had requested.

Chelan knelt beside him, butterflies of nervousness welling up. Oh my god, was she actually going to touch him, and on his bed, no less? She sucked in a deep breath, remembering their time in the hangar. She had gone so far as to kiss him then, yet nothing had come of it. And then there were all the things he had done for her over the months, all the time they had spent alone together. And never once had he betrayed her trust.

Finally steeling herself, she reached for him, clearing his long hair from his back and shoulders. “I’m sorry if my hands are cold,” she apologized.

Ticees chuckled. “I think I’ll survive.”

Chelan laughed. “I suppose you will, but how effective this whole endeavor turns out to be remains to be seen. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”

Ticees’ chest rumbled. “Well, if all else fails, I do get a rest.”

Chelan rubbed her hands together in an effort to warm them a bit, and then set about the task of massaging the tension from his arms, neck, and back.

Ticees closed his eyes to her firm and effective touch. Despite her concerns, her hands moved expertly over his body. She worked on him for a long time. Then she nudged him over, and he turned onto his back.

Chelan smiled at him and shrugged. “I know masseuses work on the front, too, but I think only on the arms and chest. Maybe for relaxing massages they do the abdomen, but like I said, I’m no expert.” And she began again on his arms, moving up to his shoulders and neck.

Ticees watched her work, her long hair cascading down over her shoulders and framing her beautiful face. Slowly, she moved to his chest, rubbing his powerful pectoral muscles into submission. But other areas of his body were not so relaxed, and it took every ounce of discipline he had to keep himself from thickening. “Am I allowed to speak to my masseuse?”

Chelan grinned. “I guess so, but you are really supposed to be totally relaxed. You need to go to your happy place.”

Ticees laughed. “Okay, I shall try to find one.” And he closed his eyes.

Chelan continued her work and looked down at her hands. Though he was much lighter skinned then the Iceaneans, she was still so pale in comparison. But what struck her most was the size comparison. Just as with the Warlords and Fremma, but even more so with Ticees, her hands looked so tiny when splayed out over his colossal chest. He, too, was formed of dense muscle, but he was not as cut as the Iceaneans, a difference in his genetics, she assumed.

She watched as her hands threaded through and over the hair on his chest. She glanced at him to make sure his eyes were still closed, and then she stole a peek down his coiled abdomen. From his belly button down to his uniform was a trail of dark hair, and she felt her body suddenly warm. She closed her eyes and blinked back to reality. As erotic as she found the bodies of the Iceanean men, with their smooth plates of muscle utterly hairless, that streak of dark tease leading to so much more hit her at her core.