Hers to Choose (30 page)

Patricia A. Knight is the pen name for an eternal romantic who lives in Dallas, Texas with her horses, dogs and the best man on the face of the earth – oh yeah, and the most enormous bullfrogs you will ever see. Word to the wise: don’t swim in the pool after dark.

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More of those Verdantians!

Hers To Command
Book 1 of the Verdantia Series

Now available on Kindle.

Look for Ramsey DeKieran and Steffania Rickard’s story, 
Hers To Cherish
, coming out in
August 26th, 2013

Chapter One

C

aptain Steffania Rickard of the elite Blue Daggers fumed silently as her eyes scanned the seedy brothel’s dark, empty, upstairs room.
Damn-it-all. I was certain I’d finally caught up to him.
She’d consumed the better part of two months looking for this man. Her shoulders slumped in fatigue. She’d expended no small amount of energy slipping into this absurdly well-guarded bedroom. 

A small prick at her carotid, from what was certainly a razor sharp stiletto, froze her in place. She hardly dared to breathe. Her heart leapt like a
spring bok
eluding a hunting cat.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. You know not to let down your guard
.

“You are not my type, Steffania. I like my women submissive and kneeling at my feet – not contentious and sneaking behind my back. But if you want me bad enough to break in here, I’ll accommodate you.”

Ramsey DeKieran’s deep, arrogant voice drawled low in her ear. He jerked her close and his hard body pressed into her back. His hand roamed freely, intimately, between her thighs, across her abdomen then higher to fondle her breasts. He paused to toss her hidden blades and throwing crescents to the floor. She couldn’t mistake the prodding at the middle of her back for anything other than it was – a solid erection.

“You conceited ass, I’m not here for that,” she hissed as his fingers rolled one of her nipples sending sensation zinging to her lower region.

Never removing his knife, he growled, “Turn very carefully. I need to check your back for weapons.”

With a snarl of her own, she complied. Unusual eyes of glacial blue with an outer ring of darker blue locked with hers. An unfriendly grin stretched a
full, generous mouth on a gaunt, chiseled face of high cheekbones and an aristocratic nose. An unkempt comma of black hair hung in the middle of his forehead. A day’s worth of dark beard shadowed his cheeks. He looked feral, undomesticated.

Now his free hand roamed her back and buttocks, his arousal pressed into her soft abdomen. He found the knife at the small of her back and tossed it to the growing collection. To her horror, she began to moisten between her legs.
Damn him!

He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Are you getting wet, sweetheart? Does dominance do it for you?”

“Bastard!” She shoved herself violently away with both hands, angered further by his oh-so-accurate taunt. It had to be a guess. She’d kept those desires carefully hidden. She retreated several steps to face him, gasping in air. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

A dark eyebrow arched slowly. “If you don’t want a good fuck, then what do you want, sweetheart?”

Steffania prided herself on being a good liar. The trick was to throw in some truth with the lie. In truth, ever since she fought beside DeKieran in the Haarb wars, the scoundrel had headlined in her sexual fantasies. “I’m not your fucking sweetheart. You’re the last man I’d want.” She threw her head back and glared. “High Lord DeTano wants you. I’m just his messenger.”

“Why would I do anything for Ari DeTano?”

“For a pardon.”

DeKieran straightened his relaxed posture. Not shrinking under his piercing examination took
discipline. She stood motionless until the tension between them became physical.
Damn you, Ramsey. Say something.
Finally, he shrugged.

“I’ll hear what he has to say.”

~ ~ ~

Ram was a stranger to this part of Verdantia’s capital. He knew only the underbelly of Sylvan Mintoth – the part where the filth of their planet collected – human and otherwise. He’d never imagined a time when he’d sit in Queen Constante’s opulent antechamber – the evident wealth an unwelcome reminder of a life that should have been his.
It is what it is. Deal with it.
He idly worried a toothpick, flipping it from one side to the other in his mouth. Two members of the ruling
Tetriarch
, High Lord DeTano and his lover, that blond devil of an assassin, Doral DeLorion, appraised him in silence. If they thought to make him nervous, they could think again. Only those with something to lose got nervous.

Ram grinned at the feminine mercenary, Captain Steffania Rickard. Her unusual eyes of honey-gold glared back at him.
Redheaded spitfire.
He’d love to have her to himself for several days. The thought of taming her speared heat through his groin. His dominance had aroused her. Ram knew it. He had an unerring instinct for detecting women who enjoyed what he delivered. 

With a long-suffering sigh, he didn’t have all day – well, he did, but those three didn’t need to know – Ram addressed DeTano. “Rickard said you wanted to talk to me. I’m here.” He crossed his legs with a casual indolence and rested an ankle on his knee.
“What can a dispossessed nobleman and accused murderer do for High Lord DeTano?”

DeTano nodded at his blond lover and second in the ruling trio. Other business occupied their beloved queen or Fleur Constante would have been here, too. “We have an issue.
Segundo
DeLorion suggested your name as a solution. The
Senzienza
, in her obscure, mystical way, has indicated Lady Alessa DeAlbero is critical to the future of our world.”

“So? You don’t need me to find a lost noble woman with invaluable genes. You command the resources of the Second
Tetriarch
. I’m just one man.”

DeLorion crossed his arms and his rich voice fell softly into the room. “We’ve tried for almost a year to recover her. We sent others – many others. They turned up dead.”

After a moment of silence, High Lord DeTano continued. “The Haarb sold Lady DeAlbero to Veacon Narr. We located her but before we could move, Narr hid her.”

Ramsey grunted. “What makes you think the most notorious slaver in the Hyperion Galaxy is going to let me waltz in to extricate the woman if all your efforts have failed?”

Again, DeLorion’s voice fell quietly in the room. “We just need you to find her precise location. We’ll get her out.”

Ram shook his head. “Still, why send me where others have failed?”

The smile DeLorion bestowed on Ram would have shriveled lesser men. “I am tired of losing good men. You are more . . .
expendable
. No one will mourn your death.”

Ramsey chuckled and returned his smile, in kind. “I did allow your sister to escape.”

The blond head nodded. “You kidnapped her in the first place.”

Ram shrugged. “I was paid to do a job. I did it. One has to live.”

DeTano interrupted their innuendo-laden exchange and tossed a rolled parchment into Ram’s lap. “Read it. It absolves you of all crimes recorded against you, past or present. Find Lady Alessa DeAlbero and we will sign it.”

Ram picked it up and scanned it casually. DeTano was correct. The unsigned pardon was broad sweeping. “However will you convince our good queen to sign this?”

DeTano looked at him thoughtfully. “Supreme Commander Eric DeStroia uncovered evidence that may cast doubt on your conviction.” Ari shrugged. “The case can be reopened.”

A resurgence of old pain and anger flooded Ram.
Hell’s breath. Thought I had left that behind.
His sardonic gaze rose and caught first DeTano then DeLorion. “So . . . if I’m successful you have Lady DeAlbero, if unsuccessful, my dead body, and all it costs you is a piece of paper.”

A feral smile pulled at DeLorion’s face. “Yes. What I call a ‘win-win’ situation – for me.”

Ramsey threw his head back and laughed. When he sobered, he observed, “Vxloncia is a high-tech planet. I will be handicapped by my lack of knowledge.”

“Yes. A Blue Dagger will accompany you,” DeTano said.

Ram considered the elite group of off-world mercenaries that had stayed on Verdantia at the end of the Haarb war. His illicit, paramilitary group assiduously avoided any encounters with the Blue Daggers. They’d earned their reputation as galactic ‘bad-asses’ in spectacular fashion. Ram grunted his acceptance. “It is also a world where male domination and female submission is enforced. I think their terms are
dominus
and
slaaf.
They hold their women close. Where do you suggest I start?”

“With Narr, himself,” said DeTano. “One of our contacts said Narr was enamored with Lady Alessa. He knows we look for her. He keeps her well hidden.”

“And just how do I get close to Narr?”

DeLorion uncrossed his arms and tossed another paper into Ramsey’s lap. “The planet holds ‘gladiator games’ as entertainment. Narr is obsessed with the bloodshed and spectacle. He always invites the winner of the games to his compound for an orgy of celebration. That will be your best chance to find Lady DeAlbero.”

Ram sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. “Gladiator games.”
Shit.

“We took the liberty of entering your name,” DeTano said. “It’s ‘no holds barred’, but the only weapons allowed are archaic. You should be familiar with all of them.”

“Should be right up your alley, DeKieran. You get to fight dirty.” Captain Rickard’s feminine lilt spat the insult at him. “But this presupposes you’ll win.”

He’d forgotten her presence. At her challenge to both his honor and his fighting prowess – all right, perhaps he had no honor, but the slur to his skills stung – Ram rose to his feet and turned to look at her. A wickedly satisfying thought formed. He threw a quick glance at DeTano. “A Blue Dagger goes with me, yes?” DeTano nodded. “I’ll take your job, on one condition.” Ram pointed at Steffania. “That Blue Dagger goes – as my sexual submissive.”