Slaves of Love (2 page)

But he had no right to intrude on her privacy. He had no way of knowing if she would welcome him or flee from him. His instincts told him she would flee. Although she looked open and uninhibited, he somehow knew it was only because she was sure she was alone.

This pond belonged to his family, but they rarely visited here because it was on undeveloped land on the outskirts of their property, far from the house and the fields, and the other landowners respected the boundaries of their neighbors.

The last thing he wanted to do was cut short her incredible performance, but more importantly, he didn’t want to frighten her. So he moved his hand to the rhythm of hers, imagined himself plunging into her as she moaned in pleasure, and burst in a fierce ejaculation just as she cried out in climax.

Now he slumped back on the ground, exhausted.

Once his breathing calmed down, he put his wilted member away and pulled himself to his feet. He really should be on his way, but as he watched her extend her arms in a long, languorous stretch, then push herself to her feet, he decided to stay and see if she would dive into the water again. The beauty of her agile, curvaceous form cutting through the water was sheer poetry.

Suddenly, the hair at the back of his neck prickled. Had he heard horses? Quietly, he pushed through the underbrush, leaving the lovely nymph behind as he headed toward the road. He raced to the peak of the hill leading to the quiet spot and saw a wagon of soldiers heading this way.
Darg’ra
, what were they doing here? At this distance, he couldn’t make out the crest on their uniforms, not that he would necessarily recognize which of the landholders it represented after more than a decade away.

The pond was not obvious from the road, secluded behind trees and brush, so they weren’t coming here by accident. Why would they be trespassing on his land? Did they know about the young woman?

These soldiers didn’t look like the type who would watch her quietly from a distance, and he couldn’t stand the thought of these oafs catching sight of his lovely maiden, let alone touching her with their large, rough hands.

He had to get back to his wood nymph. He had to protect her.

* * * * *

Shena felt a hand slide around her naked body and pull her backwards against a hard male chest. At the same time, another hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her scream.

“I won’t hurt you,” a strange male voice promised. The hint of an unfamiliar accent tinged his words. Off-world and educated.

She froze in absolute terror at being held in a man’s grasp while naked and vulnerable. Yet at the same time, the feel of his body against hers set off some very strange feelings. Arousing feelings. Her throat constricted painfully, and she clawed at the steel arm fastened around her waist, desperate to free herself.

His grip tightened, pulling her more firmly against his body.

“Listen to me.” His words rasped in her ear. “There’s a group of soldiers heading this way, so stay still and don’t make any noise. You don’t want to draw their attention.”

Soldiers? She froze in terror.

“They won’t be content to just watch politely, like I did. If I remove my hand from your mouth, do you promise not to scream?”

She nodded. Whether he spoke the truth or not, she didn’t know, but she was too terrified to chance it. He released her mouth, but not her body.

“Let me go,” she demanded, her voice a harsh whisper.

“I don’t think so,
neisha.
”

His light, teasing tone sent her off balance, and his use of the endearment confused her.
Neisha
was not a term an off-worlder would use. In fact, with the slight drag on the last syllable ... Could he be a local?

“If I see your luscious body again, I may not be able to control myself.” His words melted through her.

She became aware of her nipples tightening, her vagina contracting. He’d watched her swim. Oh, God, he’d seen her taking pleasure.

Memories of the pleasure rippled through her body, but this time she imagined his gaze as a tangible feeling caressing her body as her fingers caressed her intimate self. Images superimposed on her memory, of him leaving his hiding place, of his strong, tanned hands touching her body.

He loosened his hold on her slightly as he used one hand to remove his cape, then eased her away from him just enough to slide it around her shoulders. She grasped it and pulled it close around her, fastening it at the neck. The rich, smooth feel of the fabric, unmistakably
ancula,
a Tarun fiber, surrounded her with warmth and an odd sense of security. The heady, male scent enveloped her.

He gripped her arm with a gentle but resolute hold and guided her with him into the wooded area overlooking the pond. She struggled, trying to free herself from his grip, desperate to get away from him, her insides shuddering uncontrollably at the powerful and unfamiliar feelings of attraction to him.

His hair, dark brown and wavy, curled around his ears and neck. His warm bronze eyes watched her as he effortlessly guided her along, yet she didn’t feel threatened by his gaze, not like she always did with her father’s men. Their stares, which seemed to strip her of dignity, always frightened her.

“We’ll stay here until they pass,” he said.

“Let me go,” she insisted.

“No. You don’t believe I’m telling the truth about the soldiers. Until you see them with your own eyes, which should be in about five minutes, I’m going to hold tight.”

She was far too conscious of his arm around her waist. His other arm slid around her, and then his hand flattened on her upper chest just below her collarbone, pressing her tight against his strong, broad chest. His leather belt and metal buckle pressed into her lower back, and his pelvis pressed against her buttocks. Only fabric lay between her bare bottom and his ... She felt a blush flame across her face, and she struggled against him. Oh, God, she felt a bulge grow against her. Her movements were arousing him. Blinding fear lanced through her, challenged by a powerful desire to experience the tender loving of a man.

Drawn back to the memory of him watching her earlier, it was far too easy to imagine his chest naked against her swollen breasts, to imagine him moving his pelvis against hers in a forbidden act.

Five minutes in his arms. She didn’t think she’d survive the conflicting feelings wreaking havoc on her sanity. She would find a way out of this. Maybe if she gave him false confidence in her submission ...

“Fine,” she said tightly and slumped against him. As she’d hoped, his hold relaxed a little, and she thrust her elbow into his solar plexus, then pushed back with all her might. He stepped back, regaining his balance, then caught his heel on a rock. They both fell, but she ducked and rolled out of his grasp, then darted into the woods.

She dashed through the trees, intending to retrieve her clothes and race home. Under ordinary circumstances, it was much simpler to swim across the pond, but she couldn’t do that without being spotted by the stranger; he’d catch her for sure. It was a longer, harder route, but after ten minutes, she spotted the burgundy-leafed blazing fire bush alongside the grey-green bark of the two
elra
trees near where she’d left her things. Her gaze locked to the spot where her clothes
should
have been. God, they were gone!

Had the stranger taken them? As she stepped from between the trees, searching the ground for any sign of her tunic and
tayghas
, a leering voice froze her in her tracks.

“Look, fellows. What have we here?” A burly man with a straggly, sand-colored beard grinned at her, exposing grey, crooked teeth. His grubby uniform jacket hung open, exposing a sweat-stained shirt beneath.

His lurid gaze traveled down the black cape to her feet. She was conscious of the grass between her toes, which reminded her that her feet were bare. What would he think? His focus shifted from her feet to the opening of the cape, which she clung to in a desperate effort to keep it closed.

“I suppose you’re looking for those.” He pointed to where another man held up her plain white bra and panties.

“Well, well, men. It seems the lass must be naked under that cloak.”

Sandy-Beard stepped toward her and she backed up, bumping against a tree. A bitter taste filled her mouth as adrenaline flooded her system. Her whole body trembled uncontrollably.

“I bet she’s up for a bit of fun.” His voice lowered to a gritty huskiness. “And I’d sure be willing to show you a bit of fun, lass.”

Suddenly, three other men began to crowd around her, and terror squeezed the breath from her.

“Aye, and we would, too, Clancy.”

He shoved them back. “One at a time, lads.” His sneering lips curled into a caricature of a smile. “Or maybe two. But not ’til I’ve had my go.”

Dizziness overwhelmed her, but she fought it as she tried to ease sideways to use the same trick as she had on the tall, dark stranger -- funny, she hadn’t felt the same kind of fear with him -- and escape to the side, but the man’s hand shot out to rest against the tree on her right, trapping that escape route. The other soldiers loomed on the left so she’d have nowhere to run.

As he reached for her, terror built within her like an inferno. He clamped his hand around her shoulder, his bony fingers digging into her flesh, and grasped the clasp at her neck.

She felt faint as she tried to stifle memories that still haunted her nightmares. Memories of the young woman who used to keep house for her father. The image of the woman, hands fastened above her head, clothes stripped from her body. She had screamed as the soldiers rammed into her, over and over again. Those screams still echoed through Shena’s body.

The dark stranger stepped forward, bringing his hand to the hilt of his sword. All the soldiers backed away except the man holding her.

“I said, remove your hand.” The words came out as a low warning, but an undercurrent of rage carried clearly in his tone.

Her captor hesitated, but he reluctantly pulled his hand from her shoulder. “What’s it to you, stranger?”

Keern had to use all the control he could muster not to strike down the man holding the frightened woman in his grip.

He reached for her arm and drew her away from her captor. To his surprise, she flung herself against his side and wrapped her arms around his waist. As she buried her face against his chest, he allowed his left arm to circle her waist, tucking her tightly against him.

“She’s my woman,” he lied, wishing it were so.

The man’s eyes narrowed, but he stepped back. “You shouldn’t let her go running around tempting a man to distraction like that. After all, if a man sees a naked ankle, can a naked thigh be far behind?”

“He has no right to give you permission. My name is Herrington, and this land has been in my family for five generations. I do not take lightly to being called a liar.”

The woman pressed to his side stiffened. He stroked her back reassuringly. If not for her, he’d take these lying, undisciplined oafs, but he didn’t want to do anything to frighten her more.

Keern vaguely remembered his brother complaining about a greedy neighbor with an eye on their land. Could this Wakefield be telling others this pond belonged to him, giving them permission to use it as a way to solidify his claim? Would he keep whittling away at the edges of their property, expanding his own in the process?

“They’re gone,” he said to the woman still clinging to him. The feel of her soft and pliant against him, the delicate floral smell of her hair as it wisped across her cheek, sent his hormones soaring. He hooked his finger beneath her chin and lifted until she looked into his face.

Her eyes were glazed with terror, and he wished he’d skewered the bastard who’d torn away her peaceful bliss. Better yet, he wished he’d had his laser pistol and been able to fry every last one of them, but technology was forbidden here. The coalition had designated this planet as a conservation area, to be kept untouched by industry, pollution, and chemicals. Anything high-tech was deemed a threat to the natural balance of the world. Keern used to hate that policy, until he’d traveled to other worlds and seen how technology had changed society, damned near destroying many.

Less than a half-hour ago, he’d watched this lovely woman bathing in the sparkling water, carefree as a creature of nature in her glorious nakedness. He’d felt a little guilty spying on her, but how could he resist? Her beauty surpassed that of any woman he’d ever seen. He could almost believe her to be a mythical being straight from one of the storybooks his mother used to read him when he was a boy.

She gazed up at him, her blue eyes soft and dewy.

“Thank you.”

The words, like delicate petals, drifted from her lips. She looked like a woman wanting to be kissed. He slid his other arm around her and drew her body close to his. The memory of her pressed against him earlier, naked and dripping wet, tightened his body in arousal. He couldn’t help remembering that she was still naked beneath his black cloak.

“Why don’t you thank me with a kiss?” he murmured.