Princess in a Strange New Land

by Linda Skye

  “And just what did the lady seamstress mean by that?” she asked accusingly.

  “That I am a very, very popular man,” John said with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

  “Indeed you are,” a cool, feminine voice interrupted.

  Both Akna and John looked up to see a small group of noble ladies approaching. The young woman who had spoken was classically beautiful with perfectly pale skin, golden locks in ringlets and icy-blue eyes. Though she outshone the others, all of them wore strings of pearls and jewels over expensive court dresses, and their heels clacked noisily on the stone floor as they approached. They stopped in front of Akna and John, their eyes unfriendly.

  “What a pleasure it is to see you, Lady Leake,” John said in a deadpan voice that expressed the exact opposite sentiment.

  “John,” cooed the beautiful lady with a sardonic smile, “I thought we’d moved past such formalities. Surely you can address me by my given name. It’s the least you could do…after all we’ve been through together.”

  “I wasn’t aware that you cared for me so deeply,” John replied stiffly, “my dear Lady Georgina.”

  “Much better,” Georgina said with a falsely wistful sigh. She turned to rake over Akna’s form with cold, appraising eyes. “And what do we have here?” she asked with an arched brow. “Such a waste of fine material on a dirty little savage from the colonies.”

  “She understands English perfectly,” John warned Georgina, anger edging his voice. “And she is a princess among her people.”

  Akna glanced up at the man at her side in surprise; she hadn’t really expected her host to come to her aid. And his stiff, unfriendly tone was also completely out of character.

  “Oh, I want her to understand,” Georgina said with a sly, catlike grin that made Akna shiver despite herself. “I want her to know how she ranks compared to true nobility. She should realise just how ridiculous she looks in that borrowed finery.”

  “Borrowed? This dress is not borrowed,Georgina, dear. It was commissioned expressly for Lady Akna,” John announced unexpectedly. “Commissioned as a gift and paid for…by me.”

  Georgina went pale in anger, and she clenched her fingers into furious fists.

  “You bought her that dress?”

  “A true lady deserves such a gift, wouldn’t you say?” John asked, his tone ever so slightly taunting.

  “You gave me no such token,” Georgina snarled, her porcelain cheeks becoming mottled red in anger.

  “Now, why would I give you a dress,” John said mildly, his eyes piercing, “when you were always so intent on shedding your own in my presence?”

  Akna blinked as the other ladies gasped in unison. But Georgina merely stared, open-mouthed. She recovered a breath later, her teeth clacking shut and her eyes flashing. She turned her sharp eyes on Akna, who resisted the urge to flinch.

  “You think you’re something special, don’t you?” she growled, her beautiful face contorting in rage. “But you’re no more than a toy, a novelty. He’ll tire of you soon enough, you little heathen.”

  With a quick toss of her golden locks and one last scathing glare in John’s direction, Georgina and her ensemble stomped off, the sound of her heels echoing through the halls. Both John and Akna let out a sigh.

  “A scorned woman is truly a vengeful force with which to be reckoned,” John finally said tiredly, gently massaging his temples with his fingers.

  “I take it that you and she were well-acquainted in the past?”

  “Acquainted, yes,” John confirmed. “But not well.”

  “Well enough to warrant such anger.”

  “There was a time when we shared a few…trysts,” John admitted, his tone sour.

  Akna shook her head disapprovingly. Seeds of doubt sprouted in her mind. Lady Leake was beautiful, even if she had a monstrous personality. Akna’s time with John had been intriguing and entertaining so far, but would he tire of her just as easily? Perhaps she had let herself get too close to him after all.

  “Women in my tribe do not prefer such…familiar men,” she said calmly, her tone chilly.

  “Well, men in my position never know which women are after us because they truly like us…and which are after our riches or titles,” he countered, his usually warm voice dropping an octave.

  “And so you sample them freely?” she asked waspishly.

  “How simplistic,” he commented dryly, his hand unconsciously tightening on her arm. “Can you honestly tell me that you haven’t had your fair share of lovers?”

  “I have never treated men as playthings to be cast aside, if that is what you’re implying,” she answered in a huff.

  John stopped, and he was suddenly in front of her, his chest to hers. He leaned in so close that she swore she could have counted his eyelashes if she had so wanted. With a calloused thumb, he gently traced the line of her cheek.

  “I don’t treat women as toys,” he said, his voice deep and rumbling. “I simply haven’t found a woman worthy of my continued affection and attention as of yet.”

  “Ridiculous!” Akna exclaimed, pushing away hurriedly. “You are attempting to toy with me now!”

  She marched away angrily, ignoring the sharp pain caused by the constricting shoes. John caught up with her easily, snagging her wrist with his long fingers. He spun her about, but she twisted in his grip. Grunting, he pulled them both into a sheltered alcove. He grabbed her by the wrists and tugged her close, his eyes earnest.

  “Do not assume that I am treating you like the others,” he hissed ardently. “You are nothing like them.”

  “Indeed,” Akna replied as she tried unsuccessfully to pull away. “I am a dirty savage, a little heathen—”

  “You are none of those things,” John cut in passionately. “You are clever and curious. You care nothing for rank and decorum. And you are beautiful beyond belief.”

  Akna stilled suddenly, her chest heaving.

  “What did you say?”

  “You are beautiful.”

  She looked up then, and was startled by his closeness.

  “Surely you jest. We are not of the same world.”

  “What of it?” John said with a careless shrug, moving even closer.

  “Perhaps this is just another conquest to you? And I am simply a different type of prey to catch and subdue.”

  “Just another conquest, no,” John whispered heatedly, his arm snaking about her waist. “But I have always been searching for the perfect quarry—the perfect woman.”

  “And how will you know if you find her?” she asked, cursing her breathlessness.

  His eyes were deep, dark and hooded as he twirled a lock of her dark hair around his index finger, gently tugging until it sprang away in a perfect coil.

  “I will know soon enough,” he murmured. “And when I find her…”

  He dropped his lips to her neck and inhaled deeply, setting her nerve endings alight.

  “When you find her?” Akna prompted in a breathy whisper.

  “When I find her,” John continued, his voice rough as he leaned back to catch her chin between his fingers, “I will catch her. And I will subdue her.”

  “No one can subdue me,” Akna declared, her eyes brightly flashing.

  “We shall see about that.”

  With that, John gently tipped her face back and pressed forward, his lips catching hers in a seductive kiss. He suckled gently at her plump lower lip before grazing it with the edge of his teeth. When she gasped, he parted her lips with his tongue, sweeping the cavern of her mouth and stealing her breath. His fingers slipped across her jaw and behind her ear to cup the nape of her neck and draw her even closer. He deepened the kiss and moulded his body to hers, revelling in the feeling of her curves pressing against him.

  For her part, Akna had completely forgotten to protest the onslaught of pleasure. With his mouth working against hers in the most delicious manner, she could only let her eyelids slip closed. He slowly backed her up against the cold stone wall, but
all she felt was the press of his taut chest muscles against her body. She reached up to twine her arms around his neck, pulling away from the kiss only to gasp for breath. John took this as an invitation to trail searing kisses down her neck to her shoulder, his open mouth leaving a scalding trail of moisture that quickly chilled in the cool air. When his teeth caught her collarbone, her breathing hitched, and she felt him smile into her skin.

  In revenge, Akna slid her fingers into his thick, sandy hair and pulled him close. She nipped at his earlobe with her teeth, eliciting a gasp of pain and pleasure. Then she slowly laved the shell of his ear with her warm tongue.

  “Minx,” he rumbled as his hands slipped to her hips.

  He grasped her and thrust forward with his own hips, hoping to alleviate the painful pressure that was building there. Akna moaned, cursing the many layers of fabric between them. She felt desire spike between her thighs, hot and furious. It was torture to just barely feel the heat of his body through the thick material of their clothing.

  John felt much the same way.

  With a practiced hand, he began to loosen the stays of her corset. With a grunt, he jerked downward at her collar, and her pert breasts spilled free of her stiff bodice. He wrapped her tightly in his arms, his skilled hands pulling the bodice open and pushing it down to hang at her waist. Akna immediately felt the cool rush of air on her bare skin, and instinctively burrowed deeper into his broad chest. His arms tightened around her waist. The scratchy wool of his jacket chafed at her erect nipples, and the buttons on his coat were like cold stones against her heated flesh. She felt him slide his rough palms up her sides, and she gasped with delight when he cupped a breast with one large hand. As he lowered his mouth to hers once more, he began to knead the sensitive mound. She cried out when he took the tip of her breast between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it like a pebble.

  But when he pulled away suddenly, she glared at him in dismay. His heated eyes dropped from her flushed face to her exposed chest, and he stared unabashedly.

  “Do you not like what you see?” Akna said, embarrassment flooding her face as he continued to gaze upon her form.

  “Oh, quite the contrary,” John said, looking up to meet her eyes with his own lusty stare. “You are quite the beauty to behold.”

  With a sweep of his arm, he guided her deeper into the corridor’s alcove. He effortlessly lifted her so that her bottom was perched on the edge of a stone window seat. With a feather-light touch, he trailed his fingertips from the underside of her chin to her navel. Then he slipped his hands under the hem of her voluminous skirts and slid his palms up her legs. She grabbed at his shoulders to keep from falling and buried her face in his neck to hide her gasp of pleasure. His calloused hands grasped the undersides of each of her knees to pull her thighs apart so that he could fit his hips between them. His deft fingers traced a sensual pattern against the back of her thighs, and she could not stop from groaning against the light stubble under his chin. He rotated his hips against her centre just so, and Akna felt the full strength and size of his pulsing desire.

  And in that moment she wanted nothing more than to be rid of their fancy, useless clothing. She wanted to see him free of his woollen jacket and silken shirt. She wanted to see his muscled torso, to trail her eyes down his chiselled abdomen, to feast her eyes on his straining manhood and corded thighs. She wanted to run her hands over his pale skin and feel the power thrumming through his veins. And then she wanted him on top of her, his hips nestled between her thighs. She longed for him to fill her aching need, to see him dripping sweat onto her bare breasts as he pounded his passion into her body.

  And when she met his eyes, he saw it, too. His hand went to the buttons of his trousers. Her hand followed his to help him free.

  And then they heard the footsteps.

  Cursing, they jumped apart, hurriedly straightening their clothes and smoothing their hair. John quickly spun her around as she lifted her bodice, his fingers nimbly pulling her stays closed as best he could. Akna collapsed onto the stone bench, a hand over her heaving bosom and the other fanning her face. John stepped back to lean against the opposing wall, a hand thrust in his pocket and a look of bored apathy dropping over his face.

  It was just in time, too, as a pair of noblemen stepped into view.

  “Why, if it isn’t Sir Frederick and his…diplomatic charge!” one man exclaimed.

  “Greetings, Sir Boswell,” John said, looking up as if surprised. “We were just discussing our native flora and fauna.”

  “How…educational,” Sir Boswell commented blandly. “And how do you find our flora and fauna, Lady Akna?”

  “The landscape is breathtaking,” Akna said, forcing her voice not to crack. “But I have yet to see much of your animals.”

  “Well, perhaps a trip to the stables would be of interest then,” Boswell said. “A worthy suggestion, Sir Frederick?”

  “Indeed it is,” John replied, mustering all his manly enthusiasm.

  “Well, jolly good seeing you.”

  The men exchanged muttered goodbyes as they walked off. Both Akna and John let out the breaths they’d been holding. Feeling flustered, Akna stood and dusted her skirts.

  “A trip to the stables then,” she said, somewhat stiffly.

  “Lady Akna—”

  “Please, John,” she stopped him, lifting a hand and unable to look him in the eye. “I believe I have toured the castle enough for the day. Please escort me back to my boudoir.”

  “Yes,” John replied after a long pause. “The seamstress will want to finish that dress. This way, my lady.”

  Akna brushed past him, their elbows accidentally touching. She glanced up, her eyes bright. It was impossible not to feel the electric tingle between them. Denying it was foolishness. But for now…for now, she wanted to be alone. She wanted to see if his fancy would last for a time or just until his curiosity was sated.

  “Tomorrow,” she said finally, placing her hand in the crook of his arm. “Tomorrow let us go to the stables.”

  John relaxed. She was not casting him off just yet. John offered her a slow, devilish grin.

  “Yes,” he affirmed as he began to lead her back to her quarters. “I am looking forward to finishing what you started.”

  “What I started?” Akna exclaimed in mock surprise. “I believe that honour belongs to you, Sir Frederick.”

  “Is your memory impaired, my little savage?” John teased.

  “Who is the savage who attacked me?”

  “I didn’t see you protesting.”

  And so they continued their light bickering all the way back, each eager for the next day’s meeting.

  Chapter Four

  She hadn’t been able to sleep. And when their appointed time drew near, she hadn’t been able to wait either. Her near-tryst with John had been at the forefront of her mind, so much so that she had skipped dinner and spent the night ruminating in her quarters. Was John simply after her for a novel tryst in order to sample a different type of woman? He himself had admitted to never even conversing with a woman of her race, so perhaps once he’d satisfied his curiosity he would drop her as he had his many other lovers. It wasn’t that she knew what she wanted with him just yet, but she absolutely refused to be treated as a plaything.

  So Akna had wandered the halls aimlessly, instinctively winding her way toward the gardens. She longed for a bit of respite from the cold stone of the castle, and the crisp morning air called to her. As she stepped into the gardens, she noted a strange set of hedges in the distance. But her puzzled thoughts were quickly forgotten as the sounds of neighing filled her ears. Akna had found the stables. Though the wooden sheds themselves were not particularly awe-inspiring, Akna could not contain her wonder at the sight of the creatures they housed.

  Akna had seen horses from a distance, but she had never before been so close. They were creatures unlike any she knew, unparalleled in grace and strength—even when she thought of the majestic caribou that her tribe hunted
every summer. They were tall, so tall, and their coats gleamed in the sunshine. Akna stepped closer, nodding as the stable hands stepped back to allow her access. She stood across from a towering chestnut stallion who stamped his front hooves impatiently.

  “He’s waiting for a treat, my lady,” a stable hand said, pressing an apple into her palm.

  Still entranced by the marvellous animal, Akna could do naught but hold up the apple. The great horse bent its elegant neck, its velvety nose sniffing out the ruby-red apple. Then, with a quick snap of its white teeth, it took the apple from her palm. As it crunched the fruit, the horse held her gaze with its chocolate eyes, and Akna was amazed at the quiet intelligence she saw there. She reverently reached out to stroke his sleek neck, and the horse shook out its mane and nickered softly at her touch. Then suddenly, without warning, the stallion reared back and whinnied, stamping its hooves and backing up. Startled, Akna stumbled backward, nearly losing her footing.

  “I see the horse is like the master.”

  Recognising the voice, Akna turned around slowly. Lady Georgina stood before her, prim and proper as always in a beautifully crafted court dress. She let her icy-blue eyes trail disdainfully down Akna’s form. Despite herself, Akna felt self-conscious. While Georgina was decked out in all the finery of her station, Akna had opted for a simple sealskin dress that gently curved around her body.

  “I see you’ve reverted to your people’s poor excuse for clothing,” sniffed Georgina, her eyes flicking about. “Is that scoundrel John about?”

  “No,” Akna huffed. “He is not.”

  “Well,” Georgina said, her eyes quickly glancing around the stables, “that is just perfect, then.”

  “Lady Leake,” Akna began, her anger quietly beginning to simmer, “is there a reason you have come to the stables?”

  “Why yes,” Georgina said, her grin predatory. “I’m here to see you, in fact.”