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Authors: Alvania Scarborough

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BOOK: SurrendersMischief
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Bryta’s gaze homed in on the betraying movement.

Riana forced her fingers, one at a time, to straighten until
she could lay her palm flat on the cool polished wood. Precisely the reason
he’d come down on her so hard when she’d persisted in suggesting that he open
trade with the Far Islands. He’d known she’d have seen the implications
immediately.

Stubborn, stubborn man. It didn’t explain everything, but it
explained enough. Because of his mother, he knew women were seen as equals in
the Far Islands. It also explained her isolation.

“What do we do now?”

Determination tightened Riana’s jaw. “I want this knowledge
kept strictly between you and me for now. Not even Gaith is to know. As for the
rest, we learn. It is a given the men will not aid us, so we study the ledgers,
journals and whatever else we can get our hands on. Also, I’m willing to bet
you women know more about the men’s goings-on than you, or they, believe.” She
leaned her elbows on the table, bringing her face close to Bryta’s. “While you
haven’t been allowed to make any decisions, you’ve had the day-to-day running
of your homes and, in most cases, have worked side by side with your husbands
or masters in their guild businesses. At the very least, you all must have
absorbed some working knowledge from your men.”

She glanced about, checking to make sure no one was
listening to their conversation. Everyone seemed absorbed in what was on their
own computer screens. “Nexar needs outside trade. Darias saw that the economy
is slowly stagnating and the drought has only made matters worse. That is why
he was negotiating with Trinearia. But to be frank, I’m hesitant to continue to
deal with the Northern Continent.” She hesitated, and then lowered her voice still
further. “From all I’ve learned so far, Trinearia is even more backward in its
beliefs than Nexar. They might choose to attack if they learn women are in
charge. On the other hand, it’s bad business to approach the Far Islands from a
weakened position. We have to appear strong. If they believe we don’t know what
we’re doing, we’ll lose any advantage we might have.”

Abruptly, she pushed back her chair. Riana rapped once on
the polished top of the table to get the other women’s attention. “All material
will be made available for any woman who wishes to study it. I’d advise
everyone to study it thoroughly. You and the other women are now the owners of
the estates and businesses. Unless you wish to fail, you need to make
yourselves familiar with the day-to-day running of the properties. Each woman
will assume her husband’s rank and responsibilities. Those without husbands,
get with Bryta so she can assign rank.”

From the corner of her eye, Riana saw Bryta’s reaction. The
other woman’s eyes kept growing larger until they were in danger of popping out
of her head, and she grew so pale that Riana feared Bryta might faint.

Under the buzz of conversation, Bryta turned to Riana. “You
cannot be serious.” She twisted her hands together, but Riana could still see
they were shaking. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. Gaith was Darias’ right-hand man. You learned
more from him than you think. Besides, you’re smart and quick to learn. You
know these women, Bryta. You know what they’re capable of, what their faults
are.” She rushed to finish when Bryta opened her mouth to continue her
objections. “I have faith in you.”

The other woman’s mouth shut with an audible little snap.
Her back straightened and her head came up. “You may rely on me.”

“I will.” They shared a smile before Riana turned back to
the Council table. “We will meet again in three days and formulate a
comprehensive plan for opening negotiations with the Far Islands. Until then,
ladies.” Riana walked at a sedate pace, her beloved novel under her arm and a
smile on her face until she was out of the Great Hall.

The smile slid from her face. That low-down, space-sucking
son of a garbage scow. Riana stalked up the wide, winding staircase. He’d known
all along that women could be more than slaves. It made her want to hit
something, preferably his thick skull.

She felt like an utter fool.

Somehow, it’d been easier to rationalize his behavior when
she believed it the legacy of a planet stuck in some barbaric past. Hah! To
think she’d convinced herself that he had layers and she could open his eyes
and make him see women as partners rather than just slaves. Now even her
victory this afternoon was tainted. In the back of her mind, hidden even from
herself, had been the desire to prove the women just as capable as the men.

A fact he already knew but refused to admit.

No, Darias wasn’t trapped by ancient customs, he clung to
them with all his enormous strength and willpower.

Once in the chamber she shared with him, Riana crossed to
the table on her side of the huge bed and tucked her book inside carefully.
Closing the drawer, she pondered her next move and tried to get a hold on her
temper.

Even though Darias had lost the competition, he still
considered himself in charge. His attitude showed that clearly enough. What she
needed was something to catch his attention, make him feel as helpless as she
had. A wicked thought crossed her mind.

Dare she?

The old-fashioned bellpull on the wall caught her eye. Why
not? He certainly hadn’t hesitated to humiliate her. She walked over and gave
it a hard tug that reflected her mood. Seconds later a servant knocked
hesitantly at the door.

“Come in.”

A petite redhead opened the door. “You wished for something,
Supreme Chief?”

“Yes, I wish to have new clothes fashioned for my slave.”
She gave a detailed description of what she wanted.

The woman’s eyes got larger and larger then began to
sparkle.

“I want them delivered to my quarters by sunrise tomorrow.
Can you manage that?”

“Oh yes ma’am.” She almost tripped over her feet backing out
the door, so great was her hurry.

A dangerous smile shaped Riana’s lips as she turned to the
double glass doors leading to the garden.

Chapter Seven

 

Darias stopped prowling the moment Riana appeared in the
secluded punishment alcove. He almost didn’t see her. A cloak covered her from
throat to ankle. Only the pale flash of her face and the muted fire of her hair
gave away her presence.

He couldn’t prevent his low growl of rage. “End this farce.
A warrior should not be punished like a woman!”

She nodded at the two women, dismissing them as she
continued her slow, deliberate pace until she was several steps inside the
perimeter for the force field. By accident or by design?

His spine stiffened as she studied him with an impassive
gaze. “I see.” She tapped her bottom lip with a finger. “So what you are saying
is that the men of Nexar do not honor their pledges?”

“You impugn my honor?” Outrage vied with fury, but he
quelled both with much effort.

“Me? Impugn your honor?” She arched an elegant brow. “I have
no need. You demonstrate quite well how highly you regard ‘your honor’.”

Darias inclined his head, acknowledging the hit. “I bow to
your will.”

“In all things?” she drawled, removing the concealing mantle
and folding it carefully. Beneath she still wore the tunic and belled trousers
she so hated. He was surprised she hadn’t already changed into clothes from her
ship.

“In all things,” he confirmed, unable to prevent a bitter
twist to his lips.

“Privacy shield.”

Darias started then gritted his teeth and hoped she hadn’t
noticed the small, betraying movement.

She had.

“Did you believe I would forget to change the voice
command?” She smiled, a slow, provocative lift of her lips. “Not on your life.
Go ahead, try and see if you can deactivate it.”

He remained mute, refusing to perform for her amusement.

“Ah, well. It was just a thought.” Riana placed her mantle
on a bush.

The very same bush he’d thrown his over. Darias didn’t miss
the symbolism of the act. She strolled over to the Punishment Stone behind him.
“Lights.” She stroked the seat, and then raised a delicate eyebrow at him. The
command was clear.

“You seriously don’t expect me to cooperate?” he growled,
still furious at what he saw as a trick on her part.

“Do not take that tone with me or punishment will be that
much worse.” She threw his words back at him, pure rage erasing her impassive
demeanor for an instant. Almost immediately, she had herself back under
control.

Darias was stunned. He’d realized she had refused to accept
her status as slave and had found it difficult to adjust to Nexarian ways, but
not even after her challenge this afternoon had he understood just how deep her
resentment ran.

“Remove your clothes.”

Darias stared at her for a long moment, honor struggling
with the need to overwhelm her, take back his proper position. Honor won. He
unfastened his boots before kicking them off. And then, keeping his gaze locked
with hers, he unlaced his tunic and pulled it off over his head. Tugging at the
strip of leather that secured his breeches, he hooked his thumbs in the
waistband and pushed them down, stepping out of them in one lithe movement. He
stood there, hands held out at his side, bared for her inspection.

“My lady,” he mocked, “I hope you approve of what you see.”

“Get on the Punishment Stone.” Her tone was remote, almost
indifferent. If a tiny part of him had believed she wouldn’t be able to carry
out punishment, that part died the moment she snapped the padded ankle cuffs
closed and drew them tight so quickly after he was flat on his back. “Place
your arms above your head.” Seconds later, the wristcuffs were in place.

Riana moved to stand between his splayed thighs.

Darias was acutely aware that she had an unobstructed view
of his body. His knees were raised and his thighs spread wide, held firmly in
place by the leg supports and cuffs. Thin braces of the same malleable stone
cradled each cheek of his ass, leaving it accessible. He knew that no matter
how much he struggled he wouldn’t be able to move.

Never had he felt so open…so vulnerable.

Riana ran her hands up the insides of his thighs, her touch
just ruffling the hair on his legs. Despite the circumstance, the light stroke
of her fingers was unbelievably erotic, his body responding reflexively. Darias
tried to slam his legs shut but, restrained, couldn’t. “Damn it, just get it
over with!”

Still with that barely there touch, she slid her hands up,
skirting his groin, skimming the muscles of his abdomen, until her hands rested
on the swell of his chest muscles, the edge of her palms right below his
nipples.

He shivered as the heat of her palms contrasted sharply with
the cool night air caressing his body. He stared at her in the dim light. What
was she thinking? Did she really intend to carry all the way through with her
threat of punishment? Darias found that not knowing the answers to the
questions left him feeling unexpectedly powerless.

Was this the way she had felt when he punished her?

Darias’ heart stopped, stuttered then began beating faster
as she slid her hands the fraction of a centimeter needed to cover his nipples.
Her warm palms cocooned his nipples in softness. Heat blasted his skin as she
began rotating her hands gently then faster and harder. His teeth closed on his
lower lip as he fought to close his mind to the effect her touch was having on him.

Riana deserved her chastisement. She had broken Nexar’s
rules. As Supreme Chief, it was up to him to maintain order. Allowing her
actions to go undisciplined would have invited rebellion among the women.

Punishment had incited Riana to rebellion.

Darias shook his head to clear it of the traitorous thought.
He was allowing her arguments to sway his thinking. That mustn’t happen. Not if
he wanted to regain leadership of Nexar. He had to concentrate on finding a
flaw in their bargain before his world crumbled about them. She didn’t
understand the fine line he walked.

Surely, once she accepted she couldn’t win, she’d see the
wisdom in their ways.

Her hands slowed, began moving in small, evocative circles.
His nipples beaded in response. Darias cursed as he felt the unmistakable
stirring of his cock. He gritted his teeth and willed it to go away. Spread
open to her gaze as he was though, there was no way to hide his reaction.
Dammit, he refused to give her the satisfaction of succumbing to punishment.

He was a warrior. He ruled his body, he was not ruled by it.

Riana pinched his left nipple without warning. Air whistled
from between his teeth and he arched against his restraints. She rolled the
hard nub between her thumb and forefinger and tugged gently. Sweat popped out
on his brow when she left off her teasing and trailed her hand down his chest,
to his abdomen, just below his navel. Darias tensed, unsure what she intended
to do next. He sucked in a breath when she pulled lightly on the line of hair
that led to his groin.

To his utter dismay, his penis swelled, becoming hot, heavy
and filled with blood.

Riana locked her gaze on his, lowered her head and engulfed
the head of his cock with her mouth.

No! He would not allow her to do this to him. Closing his
hands into fists, he strained against the restraints holding him. Muscles
bunched and burned, the cords in his neck stretched taut, Darias fought with
all of his considerable strength to rip apart his bonds.

He was a warrior. He was stronger than Riana in every way.
He had complete control over himself and his world. He would not respond.

Her tongue swirled around the tiny slit that bisected the
tip.

Hot. Wet. Teasing.

“No,” he groaned, furious with his body’s betrayal as his
hips surged upward, craving the feel of her warm cavern swallowing the entire
length of his shaft. Sheer frustration tore through him as Darias found he
couldn’t move more than a few centimeters.

BOOK: SurrendersMischief
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