Read Men of Anderas II: Dak the Protector Online

Authors: Cheryl Johnson

Tags: #futuristic, #slave, #futuristic romance, #slave auction, #captive, #auction, #sci fi romance, #alpha male, #dak, #anderas

Men of Anderas II: Dak the Protector (4 page)

BOOK: Men of Anderas II: Dak the Protector
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"Why did you not say something last night?
The bones would be repaired by now."

"You didn't ask.”
Does she honestly
expect me to believe her bits of rock would heal broken bones
overnight? Not even the technological advances of the best
MediCenter on Anderas can achieve
that
miracle
.

"Oh," Kierin whispered, a blush staining her
cheeks pink, "I'm sorry. I was so distracted I didn't even bother
to examine you. It must be done now. Before your bath. Please
remove your clothes."

Dak watched the color in her face fade from
pink to ghostly white before flaming a bright red.
Now just
what's going through that pretty head of yours, crystal witch
?
In his experience women usually blushed when they were embarrassed,
lying or aroused. It's possible she felt ashamed for not realizing
the extent of his injuries, but he didn't think so. She said she
was distracted.
By me? Well, well. Is the little witch aware of
me as a man? Maybe she wants stud service after all
. After his
public arousal yesterday, he knew his body wasn't immune to her
charms. She wasn't his usual type but he could probably get around
that. He liked women with lush proportions who weren't afraid to
let the action get wild, and his last visit to a pleasure station
was more than eighteen months ago.
Hell! I'll close my eyes and
do it for King and country if it means I can find my men and get
back home
.

"Dak? Is something wrong?"

"No, Lady.” Her color was back to normal,
and he thought she looked exasperated.
Maybe you're imagining
things, Dak, old friend. She's not exactly panting
.

"Then take your clothes off so I can examine
your wounds. My name is Kierin."

"Yes, Kierin.”
There's that blush again.
Is she angry or hot and bothered? Let's just see how far I can push
the limits of this damned rock
.

Careful not to move too fast and using the
wall to support himself until his rubbery legs stopped shaking, he
stood beside the bed. Catching and holding Kierin’s gaze with his
own, he untied the knot at his waist, releasing the ends of the
shirt and letting it slide down his arms. Encouraged by the
widening of her eyes, he unfastened the bandage around his chest,
allowing the ends to unwrap themselves with just a little tug from
him. When the bandage fell to the floor, he spread his fingers and
slowly combed through the hair on his chest and stomach, smiling at
Kierin’s soft gasp.
By all the Ancient Prophets, her powders
worked
. Not by so much as a twitch of a whisker did he reveal
his amazement at finding the multitude of tiny scabs covering the
raw, bleeding lacerations of yesterday.

"If you'll sit on that chair by the lamp,
I'll check your rib cage."

Dak's smile widened when Kierin had to clear
her throat twice before giving him instructions. "Yes,
Kierin
.”

Yes, indeed. This little crystal witch,
for all her powers, is still a woman. And she knows I'm a man. You
just lost the war, sweetheart, because this battle is all in your
own mind
.

Kierin closed her eyes and forced herself to
concentrate on what must be done. The room was suddenly too warm
and it was all his fault. The sight of his hand, stroking his
chest, tangling in that thick cloud of hair made her mouth dry and
other areas of her body damp. Her whole world was suddenly upside
down and she didn't know why or what to do about it. First things
first. Find out just how badly he's hurt
. If you'd done this
last night instead of running like a scared mouse, he'd be in very
little pain and
you
would still be in control of the
situation
.

Standing between Dak's knees, she stretched
out her arms until her hands rested on his shoulders. Using touch
instead of sight, she lightly traced the column of his throat
beneath his beard. Finding nothing but warm flesh, Kierin stroked
her fingers back along his neck and across the width of his
shoulders. There were too many injured areas to count but Kierin
sensed they would soon heal with the aid of her healing crystals.
Harder to identify was the way touching him made her feel.

The natural warmth of his skin when combined
with the subtle musky smell that was particular to Dak made
breathing a chore. She found she wanted nothing more than to lean
into his strength. She would be safe with him.
But your heart
could be in serious trouble
. Trying hard to ignore her
reaction, she continued her exploration.

"Hold out your arms, please.” Her voice
sounded strange to her own ears--breathless and strained. With the
first touch of her hand against his ribs, he sucked in a harsh
breath.

"I'm sorry for the pain I must cause. It's
the only way to know where to place the crystals.

His ragged breathing told her just how much
pain he endured with her touch. When she reached the lowest rib her
sensitive fingers discovered an unusual wound, long healed. The
strange, slender ridge of scar tissue was different from any injury
she'd ever treated.

"What caused this?” She smoothed her fingers
over the slightly puckered area about three inches below his ribs
just above his waist.

"A sword."

"You could have been killed.” She rested her
palm against his side, covering the old puncture. "How did it
happen?"

"I'm a warrior. Warriors are often wounded
in battle."

Dak spread his legs wider and it was as
natural as breathing for her to step closer, into the sheltering
cradle of his thighs. The feel of his large hands on her hips
brought her to her senses. Stepping back with a jerk, she fought
the trembling in her limbs, struggling for some emotional distance
from this familiar stranger.

"You have three cracked ribs and a bruised
diaphragm. After your bath I'll bind a crystal over each place. By
this time tomorrow you'll hardly know you've been injured. Please
hurry; we can't afford to miss this transport. I asked for a
shaving kit with your bath, if you wish to remove your beard. Do
you have any questions?” She closed her mouth with a snap when she
realized she was babbling like an idiot again.

"What about your bath?"

Kierin turned and practically ran from the
room, slamming the door behind her.

What do you care if she takes a bath or
not? Your first chance to speak freely, more or less, and you ask
about her personal hygiene habits? You've lost it, Dak
.

He continued chewing on his own stupidity
while he climbed into the wooden tub of tepid water. Shaking his
head in disgust, he pushed the episode aside and focused on
devising an escape plan--if Kierin ever removed the rock from his
neck. She controlled his actions like a child's puppet, but he
could think--and watch--and plan. It surprised him to realize he
had some power over his own body.

Was the stone responsible for the meekness
he experienced yesterday? Did the pain and exhaustion intensify the
effects of the stone? There were clues here but he was missing
something, something vital. He'd shaken her up pretty good with his
spontaneous striptease. And he'd put his hands on her without
thinking about it. When a beautiful woman stood between his legs,
it was a natural instinct to touch her. Maybe that was the clue. If
he thought about it, the crystal would render him helpless. If he
didn't think, just acted, could he escape the power of the stone?
He'd have to work on that angle again. Maybe his luck was changing.
He figured he was long overdue for a little luck.

 

* * * *

Six hours into the thirty-hour trip to
Cyprian, Kierin closed her eyes and listened to Dak's soft snore
with mixed emotions. The soothing tea would help him regain his
strength while the crystals taped to his ribs healed his broken
bones. She knew this with her head. All of her training, her very
genetic makeup taught her to seek the source of pain and suffering
and eliminate the root of the problem. How could she be so aware of
others and so helpless to know how to deal with her own
problems?

Dak was her problem and her solution. He was
her last chance for survival and he terrified her more than all of
Draagon’s Phantom Riders together. Draagon threatened her life. Dak
threatened everything she knew about herself. This was supposed to
be a clear-cut business transaction. His freedom for his services.
Simple. Direct. Quickly finished. It just wasn't working out that
way. Every time she worked up the courage to tell him what she
wanted--needed--from him, he would pierce her with those warm brown
eyes and she forgot to breathe.

A soft grunt drew her attention back to
Dak's sleeping form and a grin twitched at the corners of her
mouth. Public transport seats weren't designed for her tall,
muscular Anderan. He certainly didn't look like her image of
royalty wearing crudely made clothing belonging to a much smaller
man. Although, she had to admit he looked less forbidding without
the beard. Her reaction to his changed appearance was directly
related to her current state of mind.

Sleep softened his square jaw and chiseled
features, making him seem more approachable. If only she could
explain while he slept.
Don't be a fool. He's been lied to,
tricked, and tortured. Unless you're prepared to explain the
reasons behind your unorthodox request--
all the reasons--
you
can't expect him to believe you
.

No, she couldn't tell him why she needed
him. To do so would condemn him to death as well. Her only chance
lay with making him believe the idea came from him. How? Could she
use the crystal? Was the dream episode a fluke? A random accident
of time and place? She knew there was more to being a female
crystal witch than what she learned from her father. He often
apologized for failing in her training. She missed having her
mother around, but never had she regretted her loss as much as now.
She wasn't prepared to deal with someone like this Anderan. Dak's
strong personality and turbulent emotions frightened her beyond
belief. She had no point of reference to gage his reaction to her
interference--nor her strange reaction to him. Did she have the
courage to open herself to such an intimate act?

Invading his mind isn't nearly as
intimate as what you have planned. Think. There has to be a
way
.

She had to have her plans firmly in her own
mind before she started. But, what kind of plan? As long as he wore
the amulet around his neck, any physical reaction was impossible.
Yet, without the crystal, he wouldn't follow her orders. What was
it her brother used to say about getting caught in a web of your
own making? How had such a simple idea become so tangled?

Focus on one problem at a time
. The
final product starts with the first step--and that meant arousing
Dak's sexual interest. The image must be subtle, so his mind could
alter and enhance it to fit his existing memories. It must also be
erotically potent. Strong enough to overcome all his objections.
Admittedly, her experience with the erotic was limited by her
innocence. She knew the mechanics of which body part went where,
but her only practical knowledge was of animals--and the couple she
had stumbled across in the shadows outside the inn on Safe
Haven.

Grateful that he couldn't see the blush
heating her face, she focused on recreating last night's scene in
her mind. With her own amulet clutched tightly in her hand, she
aimed the image toward Dak's subconscious. Concentrating on the
woman with her skirts bunched around her waist, bent over a bale of
hay and the man with his pants around his ankles, rocking his hips
against her buttocks, she willed him to accept and respond.

When his deep breathing grew shallow and
rapid, she shifted the image until
Dak's
body replaced the
thin, dirty man from Safe Haven; lifting the shadows until
Dak's
face glistened with the sweat of his exertions. A
soft, rumbling purr accompanied Dak's restless shifting in the
small space. His hands, crossed loosely at his waist, shifted
downward, stroking his own crotch; his hips rocking in rhythm to
the scene she created in his head.

Without warning, his eyes opened, pinning
her with a heavy-lidded gaze. His fathomless brown eyes glowed with
the fire of arousal.
He knows
!

Dropping the stone in her hand, Kierin did
what any rational female would do under the circumstances. She ran
for the privacy of the ladies’ lounge.

Chapter Four

Dak frowned at the retreating back of his
owner
. What did she hope to gain by that demonstration?
That was some scene you created, Kierin. Why? What are you up
to, little witch
? He didn't believe for a minute that it was
simple seduction she was after. If she wanted a little bedroom
action, all she had to do was ask. He’d adjust all her hormones--in
exchange for his freedom. No, this whole episode was planned and
he'd bet a year's income that her plans didn't include sex. She was
a beautiful, desirable woman. He didn't think there were many men
who would turn down a chance for some between-the-sheets fun and
games with her.

Find out what's she up to and I'll have
the key to my freedom
.

Realizing he still stroked his lifeless
crotch, Dak shoved his hands into his pockets with a snort of
disgust. He hadn't indulged in self-gratification since he was a
boy--not that his body was cooperating, anyway. Just the idea of
the solitary act left him feeling unfulfilled.
So this is what
she meant when she said her stone would
take care of my
problem
. As long as I wear this rock, nothing happens.

So, if not sex, then what reason did a woman
like Kierin have for dealing with the likes of Murdock? What would
it take to send a woman with her obvious abilities to Safe Haven?
Why does she need a man? Manual labor? She said it would take more
than a week of steady traveling to reach her home. There had to be
men on her planet able to do any heavy work she required and for a
lot less than this trip was costing her.

BOOK: Men of Anderas II: Dak the Protector
4.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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