by I. T. Lucas
Back in the cabin, Dalhu appraised the thick layer of dust covering every exposed surface and the spider webs hanging from ceiling corners and between furniture legs. The place was indeed filthy, but it was so small that he would have no problem cleaning all of it while the spoiled princess soaked in the tub. And hopefully, by the time he was done, he would manage to work up a little sweat…
Imagining Amanda's lustful response to his half-naked, glistening body, he felt a surge of arousal. After she'd admitted to fantasizing about him like that, he planned to exploit her weakness.
He was one lucky SOB. So lucky that he still had a hard time believing it.
For a change, the fates had smiled kindly upon him, bringing him to the right place at the right time to snatch the first immortal female he'd ever encountered. And not any immortal female, but the beautiful professor he'd been lusting after since the first time he'd seen her picture—the one in the autographed magazine article his men had found in the clan programmer's house.
The programmer whose assassination Dalhu had ordered.
But she didn't have to know this, did she. Not yet anyway. First, he was going to seduce her, then he was going to win her heart, and only after he was sure she was his would he come clean.
Damn. Maybe he should just keep it from her forever. Who knew how close Amanda had been to that programmer. After all, she'd signed that picture for the guy with a personal dedication. And even if they hadn't been close, family was still family, and she might not be able to get over that hurdle.
But he knew in his gut that keeping a secret like that would fester like a human's malignant wound.
His best bet was to seduce her and get her addicted to him. He'd heard rumors that the venom was addictive. True, the rumors had only talked about mortal females, but it made sense that the same would hold true for immortal ones. After all, if the venom was indeed addictive, the original purpose must've been to get immortal females bound to their mates.
He would've preferred not to rely on such an underhanded method, but it could become necessary in case he failed for some reason to win Amanda's heart. She would get hooked on him no matter what. And anyway, it wasn't as if he could do anything to prevent it. With a wicked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, Dalhu took off his shirt and went to work.
"Game on, Professor."
The first thing on his agenda was the dusty mattress. Dalhu climbed the stairs up to the loft and eyed the shopping bags he'd dumped on the bed.
Well, that hadn't been smart.
He took them down to the floor, then removed the bedding and dropped it over the railing down to the ground floor. Carefully, he hefted the mattress and lifted it over his head. It wasn't heavy, but maneuvering it down the narrow stairs and out the front door without banging into the walls forced him to go slower than he would've liked.
He left the mattress braced against the porch railing and jogged to the kitchen to grab a broom. As he pounded the mattress, he had to shield his nose and mouth with his other hand against the clouds of dust billowing out of it. The whole porch rattled and shook as he kept beating at the thing. Hopefully, the railing was sturdy enough to absorb the force of his strikes. When he was satisfied that no amount of additional pounding would cause the thing to release more dust, he hefted the mattress back up to the loft. But as he dropped it over the box spring, producing a new cloud, Dalhu realized that he should've given the box the same treatment as the mattress. No time, though. There was still a lot to clean, and he wanted to be done before Amanda finished her bath.
With a quick jog down the stairs, he got to the pile of bedding he'd dropped and scooped it up from the floor. He headed toward what he thought was a utility room, but there was no washer in the broom closet next to the kitchen he'd mistaken for one. If there was a washer in the cabin at all, it must've been stashed in the bathroom upstairs. He could think of no other place it could've been hidden in.
Maybe it was in the shack outside? He'd check later, but, for now, stuffing it in the broom closet would do. First, though, he had to take out the vacuum cleaner to make room for the bundle.
He was about to attack the floor with the ancient machine when it crossed his mind that the sofa was probably in no better shape than the mattress.
It took two more trips out to the porch, and some more pounding with the broom to liberate the heavy layer of dust from the sofa cushions.
Back to the floors.
Though not much to look at, the simple vacuum cleaner was doing a decent job—for a little while. Dalhu stopped when the loud engine changed its tune from a drone to a whine and a slight burning scent reached his nose.
Good that he had or the thing would've gone up in smoke. After examining the various components, he found a canister that needed emptying.
Live and learn.
Cleaned, the thing worked perfectly again. Once the floors looked passable, Dalhu wiped the rest of the surfaces with a couple of wet rags, then disposed of them the same way he did the bedding—into the broom closet.
Later, he planned to put everything in the washer. If there was one. If not, he was going to throw the stuff in the trash. As it was, he'd already exceeded his life-long quota of domestic activity. Washing by hand was not going to happen unless the professor volunteered to do it…
Yeah… hell has a better chance of freezing over…
The things he was willing to do for a woman. At his home base, Dalhu wouldn't have been caught dead holding a broom. A warrior carried a rifle or a sword—only servants and trainees carried cleaning implements and did the kinds of job he had done tonight.
Dalhu rubbed his neck, his hand coming away oily with sweat. He smirked, wiping his palm on his dirty jeans.
Mission accomplished.
It was time to present himself to the bathing princess. Except, now that he was done, an insidious doubt drifted through his mind, and his plan suddenly seemed foolish. What if she screamed at him to get out? Or looked at him with disgust in her beautiful blue eyes?
After all, he'd kidnaped her, drugged her, and had cuffed her to a bed. It was a wonder Amanda was talking to him at all, or looking at him with anything other than fear, or even worse—loathing.
Dalhu sighed. It was what it was. He would do his best with the cards fate had dealt him—the good and the bad, and there was no place for doubts or second thoughts if he wanted to win the most important game of his life.
Winners didn't cower before a challenge.
They embraced it.
Amanda was going to be his.
Climbing the wooden stairs, he made sure to stomp his feet and make his approach as loud as possible. What little sense of propriety he possessed demanded that he at least let Amanda know he was coming and give the female a chance to cover herself before he barged in on her.
With his hand on the bathroom door's handle, Dalhu hesitated for a fraction of a moment before plastering a confident though totally fake grin on his face and forcing his way in. "Hello, princess," he said, the words he'd prepared on his way up.
It was good that he spoke as soon as he had because the sight of Amanda's perfect body laid out in the bathtub in all its naked glory had rendered him speechless.
And the way she was looking at him, basking in the knowledge of the effect she had on him…
There was no shame in her eyes, no attempt to cover her perfect breasts with her hands. If anything, the woman seemed to feed off his stunned stupor.
"Dalhu, darling, as soon as you're done drooling, could you please bring me the toiletries and a towel? Don't forget the conditioner…"
He barely heard the words coming out of that gorgeous mouth.
What did she say? Soap and towel?
Damn, Dalhu swallowed, his brain short-circuiting from all the visual stimuli. Fully clothed, Amanda was stunning; naked, she was like a stroke of lightning—awe-inspiring and deadly. Because if he were mortal, his heart would have surely stopped.
Dalhu wiped a shaky hand ov
er his mouth. Dimly aware that he had a plan coming up here and forcing his way into the bathroom, he struggled to remember what it was, but with most of his neurons misfiring it was hard to concentrate.
There was something that was supposed to turn her on…
Yeah… and I'm doing such a great job of it… as if gawking and drooling is going to do it for her…
Fuck! What a splendid personification of masculinity he was displaying…
Pull yourself together, you idiot!
Showing weakness wouldn't do with a woman like her…
Not a woman—a fucking goddess…
He'd better pull his shit together and project strength and confidence before he lost her respect…
If he'd ever had it to begin with.
At first, when he'd grabbed her in that jewelry store, she'd been terrified of him. But then, after he'd bitten her, overloading her system with his venom, she'd begged him to fuck her like a common slut. But that was the venom's doing; she'd been high on its aphrodisiac properties. He had no doubt that she would've never acted like that when sober. And that's why, as hard as it had been, he'd refused her pleas. In his mind, to oblige her would've been akin to rape.
Trouble was, the way she'd cussed at him for refusing her, Dalhu doubted his restraint had been appreciated. He wondered whether by treating her honorably he'd gained her respect or had lost it altogether.
Perhaps he'd been stupid for wanting her sober consent, but this was not about an easy lay. This woman was his future, and he'd be damned if he screwed it up by taking advantage of her in a compromised state.
Hopefully, once she'd sobered up and remembered, she'd appreciated his gallantry.
Except, one could never know with women…
Still, even if she found his behavior gallant, it didn't mean she thought highly of him. Most likely, Amanda considered him beneath her.
Not nearly good enough.
And he wasn't—not by a long shot.
He was aware that Amanda found him attractive, but that was about it—his only redeeming quality. She was a professor while he was an uneducated mercenary, she was rich and he wasn't. Not to mention the little issue of him kidnaping her and holding her prisoner with no intention of ever letting her go…
Or being her family's sworn enemy…
"The toiletries, Dalhu? And the towel?" she repeated, her eyes twinkling with amusement. The woman knew she had him by the balls… and not just figuratively…
"Coming right up, princess." Dalhu forced a smile before tearing his eyes away.
Damn. Now he was sweating worse than he had from the physical work he'd done before. Thank Mortdh, he'd been already covered in sweat when he'd came in… maybe she wouldn't notice it had gotten worse… because of her…
The woman had him wrapped around her little finger and doing her bidding as if she was the one calling the shots.
She was, though, wasn't she?
He would do anything to please her.
Except, Amanda might think she had gained the upper hand, but in the grand scheme of things, her victory was an illusion. It played right into his plan. Dalhu was fully committed to doing whatever was necessary to win her over, and to that end—to please her he was willing to go places and do things he'd never endeavored before.
In the end, she would be his.
There was no way he was losing this most important campaign.
He took his time collecting Amanda's bathing paraphernalia—which was everything besides the soap, razor, and toothbrush that were his—the minute or two spent helping him get over the initial shock of seeing her naked. When he was done, Dalhu was ready to face her again.
Like a man…
"Thank you," she said when he came back with an armful of stuff he had no idea what she was going to do with. But what did he know. Perhaps all females required five different hair products and nine kinds of lotions.
"My pleasure." Leaning against the counter, he crossed his arms over his chest, purposefully. His bulging biceps producing the response he was hoping for. Amanda's appreciative glance had lingered before she shifted her gaze back to his face.
"Well, hand me the stuff and get out. The peep show is over."
"Which staff are you referring to?" Dalhu arched a brow.
Look at me, being all clever with the wordplay and all…
"Funny, aren't you?” Amanda feigned nonchalance but couldn't help shooting a quick glance at the other bulging part of his body. "Just the soap, shampoo, and conditioner," she said a little throatily.
"You sure that's all you need, sweetheart?"
"Need and want in one hand, shit in the other—see what you get the most of…" She pinned him with her blue stare. "Get out, Dalhu, I mean it."
"Yes, ma'am." He saluted and pushed off the counter. "Don't take too long, though, I'm of a mind to get in there with you… As you can see, I'm dirty…" he looked down his pecs, flexing "…absolutely filthy." He winked and walked out.
Closing the door behind him was a no go because the handle was broken and the thing wouldn't stay closed, but he did the best he could, leaving it only slightly ajar.
He exhaled the breath he was holding and picked up his shirt from the floor, using it to wipe the sweat off his face and his chest. Well, that hadn't turned out a complete fiasco. When he'd finally been able to think with something other than his dick, he'd noticed the way Amanda had been struggling with her own lust.
Things were not going as smoothly as he'd anticipated, but then nothing ever did. All good things were worth waiting for, and though he didn't think he'd be waiting much longer, if need be, he would.
After all, time was on his side. The way he’d carefully covered their trail, no one was going to come to Amanda’s rescue anytime soon.
CHAPTER 3: AMANDA
As she heard Dalhu exhale a relieved breath from behind the bathroom door, Amanda smirked with satisfaction.
Dalhu’s surprised expression when he’d burst into the bathroom had been priceless. Seeing her in all her nude glory with her body boldly displayed in the bath’s clear water—not gasping or trying to cover herself as most women would—the guy had been rendered speechless,
But then she was nothing like what he was used to.
Not even close.
Amanda was the daughter of a goddess, for fate's sake.
He hadn't been the only one affected, though. As he'd devoured her with his hungry eyes, her body had responded, her nipples growing taut under his hooded gaze.
Ogling her, he'd wiped the drool off his mouth with the back of his dirty hand, looking just as awestruck as one of her students. But that was where the resemblance ended.
Dalhu was a magnificent specimen of manhood, and in comparison, all her former partners looked like mere boys. Shirtless and sweaty, he'd looked just as amazing as she'd imagined he would.
He was big; not even Yamanu was that tall, and Dalhu was more powerfully built. Nevertheless, his well-defined muscles were perfectly proportioned for his size with no excess bulk; he looked strong, but not pumped like someone who spent endless hours lifting weights at a gym.
Following the light smattering of dark hair trailing down the center of his chest to where it disappeared below the belt line of his jeans, she hadn't been surprised to find that he was well proportioned everywhere. And as he kept staring at her, mesmerized, his jeans growing too tight to contain him, she'd held her breath in anticipation of her first glimpse of that magnificent length.
Oh, boy, am I in a shitload of trouble.
There was just no way she could resist all that yummy maleness. Amanda knew she was going to succumb to temptation.
She always had.
Except, this time, she would be stooping lower than ever. Because she could think of nothing that would scream SLUT louder than her going willingly into the arms of her clan's mortal enemy…
Shit, damn, damn, shit… she cursed silently.
It had taken sheer willpower to kick him out. She so
hadn't wanted to…
But she would've never been able to look at herself in the mirror if she'd succumbed to the impulse and had dragged him down into that bathtub to have her wicked way with him.
Hopefully, he'd been too busy hiding his own reaction to have noticed hers.
What was it about him that affected her so? Yes, he was incredibly handsome, and she was a lustful hedonist… but, come on, she had been a hair away from jumping the guy…
Was she one of those women that got turned on by bad boys?
Yep, evidently I am.
How shameful…
Her hand sneaked down to the juncture of her thighs, and she let her finger slide over the slick wetness that had nothing to do with the water she was soaking in. But after a quick glance at the door that wouldn't close, she gritted her teeth and pulled her fingers away from the seat of her pleasure.
She couldn't let Dalhu know how he affected her if she hoped to have a chance of keeping him off her.
And herself off him…
Damn!
She had to keep telling herself over and over again, repeating it like a mantra until it sunk in, that there was nothing that would scream SLUT louder than her going willingly into the arms of a Doomer.
Oh fates, I'm such a slut…
But wait… this was it…the solution to her predicament…
If there was one thing that was sure to shatter Dalhu's romantic illusions, it was to find out that the woman he wanted for his mate had been with a shitload of others before him.
She was well acquainted with the Doomers' opinions about women and their place in society. Someone like her would be probably stoned to death in the parts of the world they controlled. And though Dalhu seemed smarter and better informed than the average Doomer, he no doubt believed in the same old double standard. It was perfectly okay for him to fuck a different woman every night because his body demanded it. But it was not okay for her.
She was supposed to suffer the pain like a good little girl because decent women were not supposed to want or enjoy sex…
