SnaredbySaber (17 page)

“I do.”

“I don’t have any spare clothes, which is
why I think these have remained solid and real. Once we get back to the resort
or I purchase new clothes, these will disappear.”

He wanted her to return to the resort with
him? She
had
mentioned relocating…but what about the restaurants?

They don’t mean anything without Pryce.

The thought flashed through her mind, along
with the truth of it. The restaurants were more his dream. When she considered
her life after the Dearbhorgaills, the goal wasn’t managing three restaurants
on her own forever. There had to be more than hard work and worry. But what?
That was the question.

Saber’s fingers slipped lower on her thigh
and drifted closer to her pussy. Everything in her froze, waiting, praying for
contact.

“Y-you’ll have to let me know if your
theory is correct.” He made her stutter. A sad state of affairs.

“You’ll come home with me,” Saber said, his
tone brooking no refusal.

“But the restaurants—”

“You belong with
me
.”

Her mouth opened and closed in an imitation
of the lippy-fish sold in the market. The entire time she stared at his hard
face, trying to understand exactly what he wanted.

He loomed over her, pressing her into the
sleep-bed with his bulk. He didn’t stop until his face was inches from hers.
“You are
mine
, and I’m not leaving you here alone. I have to return to
the resort and my family, but I need something for myself, someone solely for
me. I need
you
, Eva.”

“Me? But I’m nobody—”

“Bullshit. You’re special. You might have
been discarded as a child, but the people in the market kept you safe. Everyone
I spoke with knew you, admired you. They spoke well of you. Pryce married you because
he held you in high regard, and if he were alive, you’d still be with him and
happy. I get that. But I want a slice of happiness too. I want you, Eva. Come
home with me. Make the resort your home. Sell your restaurants here or keep
them. I don’t care. You can have free rein to run the restaurant at the resort
or you can open one in the village, if that’s what you want.” He stared at her
intently, his eyes flickering to cat and back. “I don’t care what you do as
long as you spend every night in my bed with me.”

Eva gaped at him, shocked by the passion in
his voice, the determination to get what he wanted.

Her.

When she remained silent, he groaned, the
sound holding a trace of self-derision. “Not going to say anything?” he asked
in that silky voice of his, the one he used when his emotions came to the fore.
“Maybe I’ll demonstrate what I mean.”

And with that, he pounced.

His mouth went straight to her neck and the
minute tattoo there. Eve wondered at its origin. Maybe it had something to do
with the weird ghost house and the gentleman? Then that thought—
every
thought in her head—faded as his tongue rasped across the tattoo.

Her body jerked at the arc of pleasure
radiating through her body. His hands were everywhere, skimming her breasts,
tugging at a nipple, smoothing over her hip. And his mouth teased the tattoo,
sucking, licking, driving her crazy.

She heard a sound, a hungry little noise,
and she realized it came from her. A heated flush moved down her body and the
tattoo pulsed, coming alive under his ministrations.

Moisture formed between her legs, a
ferocious flood. He lifted his head, his eyes of freaky cat green that should
have scared her but didn’t. He was hard and determined—a delectable
combination—and she had no defenses against him, realized she didn’t
want
any.

He plundered her mouth with a kiss designed
to inflame and consume. Whimpers fell from her mouth, demands she couldn’t
contain.

She gasped for air, parted their lips
enough to get out her desperate words. “Saber. Fuck me. Please.”

He growled—a mean, bad-tempered growl—as if
she’d said the wrong thing, but his touch didn’t change. Instead he parted her
legs and rose over her, his face harsh, eyes glittering.

Then he positioned himself and plunged
inside her with one hard stroke.

Eva screamed as fire exploded inside her.
Every particle of her body pulled tight then snapped under so much pleasure it
hurt. She convulsed around his cock, shuddering and bucking as he thrust inside
her again and again.

Eva pulled his head down for a kiss and
inhaled his raw male desire. His muscles rippled and primitive hunger etched
into his face as their lips met.

She held his sweaty body as he continued to
hammer into her, a primal sense of satisfaction rolling through her. Saber gave
a strangled moan and came. Came with a bellow of sound that echoed in her
bedroom.

Gradually he relaxed and twisted their
bodies so he wasn’t a heavy weight on her chest. Neither said anything, but
Eva’s stomach went all fluttery. Her gaze went to his strong jawline, his
sensual lips, then wandered up to his eyes and came to an abrupt halt.

He was watching her, gaze impassive yet
somehow she sensed his uncertainty, his turmoil—the same riot of emotions
churning through her mind now that she could think again.

“We belong together,” he said. “Once your
problems are sorted, we’re going home to the resort. Decide what you want to do
with your restaurants.”

A definite order, and Eva couldn’t find the
energy to dispute his high-handedness.
Not when that’s what you want
,
her conscience whispered. She ran her fingers across his chest and played with
one of his nipples until it hardened. “Why is the resort so important to you?”

“My
family
is important to me,” he
corrected, his voice back to its normal gravelly rumble. “Family is important
to all felines. On Earth, cats are solitary creatures but not feline shifters.
We do better with family and friends around us. Our ancestors showed proved
that. They built a community with strong ties, and until the virus came, we
were solid.”

“Do you argue?” Eva had never known the
family he described, couldn’t imagine herself as part of it. She didn’t enjoy
the idea of being an outsider.

But wasn’t it a bit like that in the
market? There was part of the market, the people who had taken her in, who
stuck together and looked out for each other.

“Of course. We all have strong
personalities.”

“But the resort is important. You don’t
want to fail.”

“If the resort fails, we’ll have nothing,”
Saber said simply

“Did you do something similar on Earth?”
She moved on to playing with his hair, enjoying tugging the long strands.

“We were farmers. I thought I’d mentioned
that? And we had the vineyards, of course.” His hand ran up and down her back
and she whispered out a breath of relief. He’d lost the air of tension, seemed
more himself.

“Then why a resort?”

“I won it in a card game. I staked the last
of our money and when the game was over, my family became the owners of a
run-down resort.”

“That was…um…risky.”

“Not really,” he said, something almost
self-deprecating in his smile. He caught her gaze and held it. “I had no
intention of losing. I cheated.”

Eva blinked, realized he was laying himself
bare, wasn’t sure how to react.

“Sorry you slept with me now?”

Saber regretted cheating. She saw it in
him, but she also saw he’d do it again if the need arose. His family came
first—and he wanted to include
her
in that family. She sucked in a quick
breath, gave a disbelieving shake of her head.
Frying fungus
.

“You make me feel good. Why would I be
sorry?” No. She was uncertain, she thought. Frightened to take a step into the
unknown when she was comfortable here on Dalcon. She’d known upfront of Pryce’s
parents’ hatred, their dislike of her humble roots. They’d wanted Pryce to
remain in his designated caste, not to marry a guttersnipe who didn’t even
belong to a caste.

Saber’s family didn’t know her. She’d seen
them at the resort, probably unknowingly spoken to some of them. What if it
turned out they hated her? If she left Dalcon, sold her restaurants…

Gods, she need to think about this. Hard.

Saber wanted to spring off the bed and
curse. He wanted to shake Eva, tell her they were meant for each other. Of
course, he could just tell her he suspected they were mates and they wouldn’t
do well—either of them—if they tried to live on different planets. Yeah, he
could do that. But he
needed
her to want him.

To come to the decision on her own to be
with him.

He wanted to know she valued him, cared for
him.

He craved her love.

And damn, didn’t that make him a stupid
sap?

Instead of having a tantrum to dispel his
frustration, he nuzzled her neck, breathed in her scent and began making love
to her again.

And it
was
making love, rather than
sex. They mightn’t have known each other for long, but he knew the difference
between lust and love. They’d seen each other at their best and their worst and
with that diversity came strong bonds.

He snorted inwardly. The sort that echoed
the mate bond.

He gripped the taut globes of her ass and pulled
her closer, letting her feel his lengthening dick, his need for her. She
hesitated but kissed him back, twirled her tongue with hers.

At least this was one area where they were
in perfect accord.

He kissed her deeply, letting her have it
rough and raw. Imprinting himself on her, body and mind. Then he eased the
kiss, turning it lazy with the stroke of his tongue. She gave a purring sound
of approval, and he smiled against her lips.

“More,” she said when he nibbled her bottom
lip.

“Not a problem.” He nuzzled her neck,
bypassing the tattoo and heading for her breasts. The nipples puckered the
instant he gave them a long lick. So responsive. His hands wandered lower,
slipped between her legs. She twisted against his body, struggled to give him
plenty of room.

His nostrils flared at the scent of arousal
filling the air. Mouthwatering, it steeped him in lust.

“Come inside me,” she said.

“I want to take you from behind.”

“Any way you want,” she whispered, her body
pliant as he rearranged her on the sleep-bed. He moved over her, sank his cock
into her damp heat and a primal sense of satisfaction filled him. He kissed the
space between her shoulder blades then moved his mouth across to the tattoo.
Unable to resist, he licked her silky flesh and his pulse picked up in speed.
She groaned, the lustful sound pushing him to drive into her faster.

Once again, he climaxed hard, unable to
hold back the pleasure backing up inside him like a mountain avalanche. He had
enough presence of mind to strum his fingers across her clit, make it good for
her while he still had a few brain cells functioning.

“That’s it. Come for me.”

She moaned, the throaty sound twisting
another spasm from his cock. “Saber.”

“Enjoy my name on your lips, kitten.”

“
Saber!
”

“Let go. I want to hear you cry out in
pleasure. Let me feel it, Eva. Show me how good my cock makes you feel.” He
gave a feral grin and rubbed again.

When she started quaking, he gave her more
until the tension snapped in her straining body.

“Perfect,” he said, his voice emerging in a
ragged whisper. “You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

She wriggled from his grasp when her
breathing eased and turned to look up at him. “I’m hungry.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Want something to eat?”

Saber climbed off the sleep-bed. “I’ll get
you something.”

“I have legs.”

Saber brushed a lock of hair from her face.
“Don’t you get it, kitten? I derive pleasure from doing things for you.” His
gaze settled on her breasts. “
With
you.”

“I’m used to looking after myself.”

“I know, but I’m willing to shoulder some
of the burden. Remember that, kitten, and think about it.”

* * * * *

Eva thought about Saber’s words the next
morning when she left to meet with Robbie. She thought about them throughout
the morning and continued to do so when she returned to her lodgings to dress
for her audience with the king.

She clomped down the passage to the
reception room of her lodgings. Robbie was seated at Pryce’s old desk, going
through the accounts for the restaurants.

“Any word from Saber?” she asked.

“Not yet. What are you going to do if he doesn’t
come?”

“He’ll get the info we need,” she said.
“And if he doesn’t, we’ll go with what we have. It’s pretty damning on its
own.”

“Not many people cross swords with the
Dearbhorgaills,” Robbie said. “Your life won’t be worth living if the king
rejects your claims.”

Eva’s mouth hardened. Pryce had died.
Others had been hurt often when Lady Almeda didn’t get her own way. It wasn’t
right for the ruling classes to hold so much power over the lower-caste
inhabitants on Dalcon. “I’ll face that if it happens. At the very least, Lady
Almeda will feel the embarrassment of hearing her name on the lips of gossips.
She won’t enjoy the rumors at her expense.”

Robbie checked his timepiece. “We have to
leave for the palace. We can’t wait any longer.”

“Very well,” Eva said.

The fly-mo ride to the palace didn’t take
long, but Eva felt as if she were entering another world when security let
their driver through the main gates leading into the palace.

Robbie gave the guards on the inner wall
their names, and Eva waited anxiously while they consulted their list. There
was always an outside chance that one of the Dearbhorgaills had been told about
her upcoming audience.

The fly-mo driver came to a halt at a third
security gate. “This is as far as I can go. Do you wish me to wait for you?”

“Yes, please,” Eva said and handed over
several currency notes.

Guards checked her bag for weapons and
patted down Robbie. Once the guards were satisfied, they were allowed to enter
the main palace grounds.

Gardens full of colorful flowers of every
hue imaginable caught her eye. In the distance, a large oval-shaped pond
glinted in the solar sun. White gravel paths wound between the gardens and
knee-high hedges, and several pagodas with elegant spires and decorations
offered places to rest and while away the solar day.

“Come along,” a man said in a testy tone.
“The king is a busy man.”

Eva turned to glimpse a rotund man wearing
a deep-purple robe over his shoulders. A matching turban wound around his head,
highlighting his round face. A crease between his eyes indicated his mood.
Impatient.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Come along,” the man repeated, snapping
his fingers in her direction. He trotted off, obviously expecting them to
hurry.

Robbie gave a wry shrug and limped after
him. Eva sighed. She hadn’t been nervous, but now that she and Robbie followed
the courtier, nerves swirled through her stomach, recoiling and rebounding like
a mindless panicked creature.

She trotted after the man, keeping her gaze
on the swirl of his purple cloak as he navigated a maze of corridors within the
palace. They reached a room full of courtiers and citizens of Dalcon. The famed
audience room.

“Wait here,” the man said.

“
Flaming fungus
,” Robbie said in an
urgent whisper. “The king is never going to get through this many people. I’m
sorry, Eva. I’ve wasted your time.”

“We’ll wait,” Eva said in a firm voice.
“Let’s find a seat. They seem to be moving in and out quickly enough.”

Eva kept an eye on the door. Every few
minutes a courtier in white came out, consulted a list and hollered a name.

“Look who’s here,” Robbie said, tugging her
arm.

“Who?” Eva’s gaze followed the direction
Robbie indicated and her stomach swooped into freefall. She squeezed against
the wall and attempted to look inconspicuous.

Lady Almeda and Lord Loeiz Dearbhorgaill,
dressed in their finest clothing and pressing the flesh.

Robbie leaned closer. “Do you think their
presence is a coincidence?”

“I don’t know.” Eva studied their easy
posture and the way they circulated, chatting with many of the other men and
women who were waiting for their turn to speak with the king.

The first thing she and Robbie had done
when they’d entered the room was to scrutinize everyone waiting for an
audience. Neither of the Dearbhorgaills had done the same. Because they’d
known
she was here, had seen the contents of the request she’d completed. Or someone
had told them.