Roark (Women Of Earth Book 1)

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  That made her smile even more. She raised her arms above her head and captured the flowing water in her hands. Knowing he watched her movements made her body feel warmer than the water. She took up the washcloth and the bar of soap they’d found packaged under the sink, and slowly began to wash, turning the mundane chore into a sensual display of shadows behind the frosted glass of the doors.

  Roark cleared his throat and began gently with a tentative calling of her name.

  “Mira...”

  She knew what he wanted and she gave it to him while she ran the soapy cloth along her arms from fingers to shoulders.

  “The second sentence I learned in Godan was ‘Guard your children’.” She said the words in Godan, just as Miklos had. “He kept mumbling it over and over. We didn’t know what it meant until I figured out how to use his translator. That’s where the translator came from, Roark. I was afraid to turn it in, too, but I could have gotten rid of it in other ways.

  “I didn’t want to get rid of it,” she admitted. “I didn’t lie about that. I’m good with languages and I wanted to learn. I thought it might help if I knew what they were saying behind those awful helmets. I practiced and practiced with it and then I saw the notice that said you were looking for a few clerical workers to learn the language. I thought it was a sign from heaven. I could earn money while I listened, and learn what I could about the missing children.”

  Bending at the waist, she ran her soapy cloth up and down her legs.

  “How much does your sister know of this?”

  “Everything. My brother? Nothing,” she added in anticipation of his next question. “He knew about the Godan soldier of course.”

  “And what do you know of your brother?”

  Here was the dilemma she’d been hoping to avoid; betray her brother or betray Roark.

  “Where are Wynne and the children?” she asked, opting for evasion to give herself time to think about what she should say.

  The door slid open. “Safe,” he answered and held out his hand for the cloth. “Turn around and let me wash your back. Mohawk will watch over them until a place can be found here on the base.”

  Mira spoke over her shoulder. “Is that supposed to be comforting?” She could picture the old warrior stomping around their tiny apartment swearing at anything that moved. “Roark, they’re children, not recruits. Mohawk thinks the solution to any problem is to shout vile things at the top of his lungs and follow it up with a smack to the back of the head. Wynne thinks it’s funny when I repeat what he says, but she won’t think so for long once the kids start repeating it.”

  “Mohawk may be too old for war, but he would still be a formidable opponent should anyone threaten Wynne or the children. He was proud that I chose him and he is loyal to you.”

  “He didn’t look too loyal back at my apartment.”

  “That was disappointment. You hurt his feelings,” Roark laughed. His tongue rolled across the inside of his cheek and the wings of his eyes raised a fraction of an inch. “And cost him a packet of money. As far as his choice of words, most of them will be in Godan. Think of it as Godan as a Second Language.”

  She punched his chest, though without much force. “You know about that, too, huh? Who was your informer?”

  His brows raised a fraction of an inch more. “Who says there’s an informer?”

  She punched him again and laughed. “Don’t give me that innocent look. You have spies everywhere. It was Legion Officer Petrark, wasn’t it? He idolizes you.” She nodded before he could answer. “Yeah, it’s him. I should get to know him better. There are hidden depths to that man.”

  “Which shall remain unexplored as far as you’re concerned.”

  “Jealous?” she said playfully. “He is awfully handsome.”

  “No, I have no reason to be jealous. As you said, I am the idol here. It’s he who envies me and so it shall remain. You stay away from him. I don’t want you convincing my informers to switch sides.”

  In spite of the seriousness of the subject matter, Mira was enjoying this. The conversation was relaxed and comfortable as if sharing the bathroom was an everyday occurrence that had been going on for years.

  “Fine, but I’m keeping Mohawk on Team Mira.”

  “As I knew you would. And now, Mira miku, we must have the conversation you’ve been trying to avoid,” Roark sounded more resigned than impatient, as if he was enjoying the relaxed intimacy, too, and hated to see it end. He held out his hand to assist her from the shower.

  Mira turned off the water. She couldn’t avoid it any longer. Pretending David’s criminal behavior didn’t exist wouldn’t make it go away.

  Roark started to dry her back and shoulders with the towel he plucked from the counter behind him. “I understand your reluctance, Mirasha. You love your brother. You don’t want any harm to come to him. I understand that, too, but the best way to help him is to help me.”

  Brisk and impersonal, Roark ran the towel along her arms and down her legs. She lifted her arms when he tapped them, and drew a dry towel around her, turning her toward him to tuck the end securely at the side of her breast.

  “Where are you keeping him?” Mira asked while he dried and tucked. She tried, but failed to keep the quaver from her voice.

  Regardless of what he’d done, Davey was still her baby brother, and her mother’s accidental miracle. She’d lost so damn much in this awful war, she couldn’t lose Davey, too. Tears threatened, but Mira blinked them back. She could not, however, hold herself back from leaning into Roark’s chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. She needed the comfort, security, and warmth they offered. She was more aware of it than ever having felt its loss only a few hours before. Feeling him close slowed her breathing and steadied her heartbeat.

  “In the clinic just as I ordered,” he assured her. “His injuries have been attended to. I talked to Harm while your coffee was brewing. He’s been keeping your brother company.”

  “Roark, no, not Harm. David isn’t Suto.”

  “A mark in his favor,” Roark chuckled and then kissed the top of her head. “Harm is not what you think, Mirasha. He’s a good man and he has a way with rebellious boys. I should know. It’s how I met him.”

  “You?” she said, surprised. “I can’t picture you as a rebellious teenager.”

  “Then remind me to never leave you alone with my mother. She has hours’ worth of complaints which she will gladly tell anyone who will listen. She adores Harm almost as much as she adores me.” He must have felt her roll her eyes. “Of course, that’s not saying much. She adores my brothers, too.” He held her away from him.

  “Harm won’t hurt him,” he assured her, “but he won’t coddle him, either. David needs to understand the severity of the charges against him. He must understand the possible penalties for his actions. He must believe that there is nothing you or I can do to save him unless he cooperates.”

  “What will happen to him, Roark?”

  “I’m not sure. There’s only so much I can do. As First Commander, I’m the primary upholder of the law in this sector. I can’t make exceptions, not an even for you. David’s age is a factor and will be taken into account. That alone will save him from death. Beyond that, I can’t say. Much depends on what role he played in the bombings and what he can tell us about the people he worked with. I’ll do everything in my power to save him from the worst, but I can’t promise you success.”

  Mira nodded. It was all she could ask of him.

  “David was hanging around a place called The Buzz. It’s a bar and it’s owned by a man named Tomaselli. I knew him as Anthony, but he goes by Tony now and it looks like he has a whole collection of Davids at his disposal.” She told him about her visit to The Buzz in search of her brother. “Word around town says he can get whatever you need. For a hefty price,” she added. “That’s the rumor, anyway. I stay as far away from Anthony Tomaselli as I can.”

  “You don’t deal with the black market?”

  “Tr
ick question?” she asked. If it was, she’d answer it the same as she would answer all his questions from now on, with the truth.

  “Everyone deals with the black market if they can afford it. We couldn’t. I stay away because he’s a vengeful bastard and I hate him. I dated him before the war. I fell for his flash and other things.” She shrugged. “I thought he loved me. He thought he owned me. My mistake. Anthony didn’t think I’d walk away. Now David’s paying because I did.”

  “You aren’t responsible for this, Mira.”

  “Aren’t I? I brought him into our home. I introduced him to David. Tomaselli would have left him alone if it hadn’t been for me.”

  “And what about all those other young men and women you spoke about? Are you responsible for them, too? David is one of several. He alone made the choice, Mira, not you.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. Roark saying it made her almost believe it.

  “Don’t thank me. Believe me.” The man had an uncanny ability to read her mind. He turned her toward the door and patted her rear end. “It’s still early. Why don’t you go back to bed and get some sleep. I have a few things to check on and then I’ll come back and join you.”

  He was gone a long while, but Mira didn’t sleep. When he finally returned, she was sitting up in bed against the pillows, the sheet pulled up over her breasts.

  He looked surprised and pleased. “You’re tired. I didn’t expect you to wait up for me.”

  “I have something I need to tell you. About me,” she clarified when she saw his questioning look.

  Mira lifted the sheet while he stripped off his clothes and slipped in beside her. Laying her head against his chest, she asked, “Do you remember the other night, when you picked me up to bring me to dinner and I told you I felt like Cinderella going to the ball?”

  “I do. The Ash Maiden story.”

  “Exactly, and you know what? That story always bothered me. I always wondered why Cinderella fell in love with Prince Charming. She’d only just met him. Was it because he was a prince? Because he had money and power? Those things don’t buy happiness.” She’d had those things with Anthony and look what it got her. “Maybe it was because he was a good dancer, but you can’t dance your way through the tough spots in life. Young and handsome doesn’t cut it either. Young and handsome don’t make it into the happily ever after. We all get old and gray.”

  “As I will be by the time you tell me what you have discovered,” he said and Mira felt the rumble of his laughter.

  She was baring her heart and he was laughing at her, but it wasn’t cruel laughter. It was comfortable.

  “That night at dinner, I finally figured it out. Cinderella fell in love with Prince Charming because when he held her in his arms, he made her forget the ashes in the hearth, and all the other shitiness that was her life. With his arms around her, he made her feel as if everything was going to be all right, and even if it wasn’t, he’d be there beside her to see it through.

  “That’s the way you make me feel, Roark, and you’ve made me feel it from the very first moment when you picked me up from the mud. I need to feel that now. I need to be here in your arms. I need you to make love to me, and make me believe everything is going to be all right.”

  Roark rolled her onto his chest and stroked away a strand of hair that had fallen in her face. “So I have found myself a fanciful woman who believes in pretty folktales.”

  “That’s just it. I’m not fanciful. I’m the practical one, remember? I never believed, until you.” She stretched upwards to meet his lips.

  “I am no Prince Charming, Miramiku,” he murmured against her lips.

  His admission made her smile. “Good. I always had a problem with him, too. If he’d had any balls, he’d never have let her run away at midnight. He would have tracked her down the minute he found her gone.”

  “And punished her severely for making him lose his mind in worry and fear.”

  “I’m sorry for that. I never meant...”

  Before she could finish, he’d pulled her up over him, so they were face to face. With his hand at the back of her head, he brought their lips together. Through his kiss, she felt some of his desperation at finding the house empty when he returned to her. Had he needed her comfort, too?

  “I needed you,” he breathed in concert with her thought.

  Their covering fell away as his rough hand skimmed over her tender skin from her shoulder, along her back, and over the mound of her rear to the back of her thigh, where his fingers drew sensuous and tickling circles. Her muscles clenched and relaxed as her hips moved with the age old rhythm of desire.

  Her back arched and her mouth opened in a surprised O when the circling fingers left her and returned in an open handed smack that stung both cheeks of her ass.

  The burn left from the smack along with the warmth of the hand that soothed and caressed it combined to send a curl of another kind of heat straight to her core. Her “Hey!” turned into a purring moan.

  Roark slid his finger between her tingling cheeks and followed the line to where it ended between her legs. The finger swirled in the pooling moisture it found.

  “That was punishment for making me lose my mind. You weren’t supposed to like it,” he chuckled.

  “I’ll try to remember that next time,” she murmured as he took her mouth in another kiss.

  The kiss burned, too. Hot and wet, his mouth conquered hers, his tongue demanding in its penetration. It plundered the depths of her mouth and stole her breath. When he pulled away it was with her bottom lip between his teeth. He released the lip and she sucked it back into her mouth, curling it over her bottom teeth and running her tongue over it.

  Pressure from the hand below forced her to move upward along his body and spread her legs further until her knees fell to either side of his broad chest.

  “Raise your hips and give me your breast,” he commanded and Mira obeyed.

  She gripped the headboard with both hands for leverage and raised her breast to his mouth. Though she was on top, the position left her open and vulnerable.

  Roark’s tongue circled her nipple and then he sucked it in, so strongly she felt the tug of it ignite the fire already smoldering below. He did it again and again, toying with her body and making pleasurable sounds against her skin. His attention then turned to her other breast. He attacked the underside with his lips and teeth in tiny, nibbling love bites that sent shivers coursing through her body. When Roark gripped her tightly pebbled nipple between his teeth, she gasped.

  The sensations at her breasts combined with the pounding of his fingers inside her. Roark’s thumb rolled over her clit and the fire within her erupted.

  His hands were there to support her when her arms no longer could. She hung there, suspended above him, quaking with a fire that coursed through her.

  When her orgasm subsided, Roark removed her hands from the headboard, and guided her hips back until she was positioned over his jutting erection.

  “Ride me, miku Mirasha. Take me to the place where I have taken you.”

  Using her hand as a guide, she brought him into her. With undulating hips, she moved the moistened tip against her clit, toying with herself in the way Roark’s fingers had toyed with her only minutes before. Beyond her closed eyes, she knew he was watching and his soft groan told her he enjoyed the display.

  With her ardor once more on the rise, she settled him in place and slowly took his length into her body. After a moment to savor the feeling of completeness brought to her by their joining, Mira began to move.

  Slowly at first, she let her body rise and fall. As the movement of his hips became more insistent, so did hers. Hands and fingers locked together, his elbows braced on the bed, she used his strength to support her body as she drew him in and released him. Faster and faster, harder and harder, she poured her pleasure onto him.

  His hands tightened their grip on hers. His body tensed. He cursed in the guttural tongue of the Godan and then exploded withi
n her. She clenched around him, milking him of his power and seed, and then she was flying, too. She soared with the primal beauty of the man locked inside her. This was where she belonged.

  With their mutual release, Roark lowered his forearms until she lay on his chest. Mira was exhausted, satisfied, and very much in love with the golden Viking who now held her in his arms.

  Chapter 19

  Roark assumed Mira was sound asleep, but with the first knock at the door, she sat up, eyes wide open.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong. Some misbegotten son of a whore has a death wish, that’s all.” He was already out of bed and pulling on his clothes. “I’ll grant that wish and return. You need to go back to sleep.”

  He’d left strict orders that he was not to be disturbed unless it was an emergency. An emergency would be called in over his comlink and not through someone banging on his door. The banging continued and his annoyance grew.

  “What?” he snapped as he opened the door.

  Ahnyis stood on the other side with a bundle of folders in her arms. Mason stood behind her.

  “Oh good, you’re here. We need to talk,” she said, ducking past him and completely ignoring the angry scowl on his face.

  Mason noticed it, though. “Ahnyis, sweetie, maybe we should come back later. I think this might be a bad time,” he added with a significant glance at the pile of Mira’s discarded clothing on the floor.

  Ahnyis grinned as Roark scooped the pile into his arms.

  “Oh good,” the little Healer said again, “Mira’s here. That takes care of item one on my list.” She actually ticked it off the loose page that sat atop the folders. “I was afraid you’d locked her away somewhere. I know how unreasonable you can be when you’re angry.” She glanced worriedly at his dragon earing.

  “Ahnyis, I have had less than two hours sleep. Can’t this wait?”

  “Of course it can’t wait. Would I be here if it could? And I don’t want to hear about your lack of sleep.” She raised her nose and sniffed loudly. “You apparently chose a different form of relaxation.”