Syn paused as he heard the raw hurt in her voice. "What was in it?"
"Stupid girl stuff. A diary, my clothes, but what I missed most was my Agatha doll. She was the only thing new I'd ever gotten." She shook her head. "Ridiculous, right?"
"No. It's not. Objects are the markers of our humanity. Everything we hold onto has meaning for us. Those things are a souvenir that can transport us to that exact moment in time and make us feel that emotion all over again. Take Vik, for example. He reminds me of the need I had to be free, but I also remember the beatings I took while I worked on him. One in particular was brutal because I was so focused on him that I didn't hear my dad call me."
"Is that why you left him behind?"
"Yeah. I wanted nothing to do with my past. It wasn't until Mara left me that I had Digger send me the picture of me and Talia. It was only then I came to terms with the fact that my past, for better or worse, has made me who and what I am. My father and the anger I will always have for him gave me the ability to kill anyone who ever came at me, but it was my sister and Digger who made me human. Without them, I would be my father's son. And because of them, I can never victimize someone like them, no matter what it costs me."
Shahara took his hand in hers. "You are a good man, Syn."
Syn froze at the only thing no one had ever accused him of before. Coming from her lips, he wanted to believe it.
But he knew better.
"I'm just a piece of shit, Shahara, trying to survive." He pushed his chair back and left her to finish eating in peace. He knew he couldn't stay there anymore and watch her. The pain stabbing his groin was too ferocious. But it was nothing compared to the ache in his chest that wanted things to be different.
That wanted him to be different.
Tossing back a deep gulp of wine, he walked over to the music console and chose a soft melody.
Instead of distracting him, it only made him crave her more.
What are you doing, you idiot? Stop the torture. The more you're with her, the harder it's going to be to leave.
It was true, and he was going to have to leave. He was a filch and she was a seax--even if he was dumb enough to think about trying to have a relationship with her, those two things were incompatible. She would have to give up everything she valued to be with him.
Even her brother. Or at least Caillen's respect.
And that was something he could never allow.
Still, he couldn't bring himself to stop this moment of tranquility. This was what he'd always wanted. A beautiful woman who set his blood on fire and a comfortable, lush place to share with her.
Besides, Shahara deserved this. He still felt guilty for taking her on the cold floor of the shuttle. He'd satisfied his lust without any thought to her comfort. That had been wrong of him. He should never have treated her that way.
"What are you thinking?"
He looked up with a frown. "What?"
She set her fork down. "You look so intense. I was just wondering why."
Moving closer to her, he noted that she'd finished her food. He set the empty glass down on the table next to her plate, then held his hand out to her. "Dance with me."
She leaned away from him. "I don't know how."
"C'mon," he nudged. "You can do it."
Shahara bit her lip in indecision. This wasn't her forte, and since she'd never tried to dance before, she didn't want to embarrass herself. "Are you sure?"
He nodded.
Taking a deep breath for courage, she took his hand and allowed him to pull her into his arms.
"Just follow my steps." Leaning down, he kissed her lightly on the lips while he placed her arms around his neck.
Syn savored the feeling of her holding him. Her steps were awkward and she kept stepping all over his feet. Trying not to grimace or laugh, he whispered quietly in her ear, "Listen to the music and follow the beat."
She improved immediately. Smiling, he reveled at the strange feelings that coursed through him. He wanted to give her this, the one thing she'd never known--a tender moment with a man. She deserved someone to treasure her.
If only it could be him.
"Did you dance with Mara like this?"
He cringed at the mention of his ex-wife's name and shook his head.
"Why?"
"I never wanted to."
She opened her lips to speak again. Syn covered the softness with his fingertip. "Shh, love. I don't want you to ask me any more questions and I don't want you to ever mention her name to me again. She belongs to a part of me that died a long time ago and I don't want to think of her. I just want to be with you."
Shahara bit her lip at his words as a thick warmth spread through her. Her throat tight, she looked up at him and smiled. No one had ever said such a thing to her. "Thank you."
He smiled in response before he reached up and took her right hand from around his neck. Holding it tightly, he brushed her fingertips with a kiss before laying it against his chest.
Shahara placed her head on his chest and stared at their entwined hands. His grip tightened around her waist and he laid his cheek against the top of her head. A thousand emotions tore through her at once and the only one she could name was the love that welled up and filled every part of her.
What she wouldn't give to stay like this forever. To hear his heart beat beneath her cheek while his breath stirred her hair and the music flowed all around. She'd never danced with a man before and she wondered if all men felt this good.
Deep inside she knew the answer. Only Syn would ever stir her emotions like this.
And one day, all too soon, he would hate her. Of that she was certain.
He stopped dancing and pulled the tie from her braid. His look deadly serious, he unbraided the strands of her hair and ran his fingers through it. "I've wanted to do this since the moment I first saw you."
She smiled as her hair spilled around them. "Your turn." She reached up to free his ponytail.
Taking her hand, he led her to the console and pushed a few options. The lights dimmed to a faint glow.
"What are you doing?"
He pulled her to his chest and gave her a tender kiss. "I want to bathe with you," he whispered against her lips.
A tremor of shyness shot through her, but she banished it. She wouldn't let her modesty ruin this. Not when he meant so much to her. "I'd like that, too."
He left her to fill the tub.
Shahara followed him into the bathroom where there was a huge gold and black marble tub that would have probably fit a dozen people. Man, as a kid, they could have swam in it.
Syn chose one of the multitude of ornate glass bottles of scents and bubbles that had been set at the foot of the tub and poured it into the rushing water.
"I'll be right back." He headed out the door.
Deciding it would probably be less embarrassing to get undressed while he was gone, she quickly disrobed and hid herself beneath the mountain of bubbles that stretched the length of the tub.
Syn returned with their glasses and the bottle of wine. The moment he saw her in the tub, he let out an irritated grunt. "Hey . . . You were supposed to wait on me."
She pouted at him. "I'm sorry. I wanted to watch you undress."
He set the glasses down on the edge of the tub beside her. "I'd rather you undress me."
Reaching out, she grabbed him by the waist of his pants and pulled him into the tub on top of her. "Glad to oblige."
"Shahara!" There was no missing the irritation in his tone. "I'm glad you want me this way, but you could have gotten out of the tub first."
"Oh, don't be such a baby."
"I'm not," he said with a sigh. "But these are the only clothes I have and you've soaked me all the way to my boots."
Laughter bubbled up through her as she realized what she'd done. "I'm sorry."
"Sure you are." Grimacing, he tossed his boots over the side where they landed with a soggy thud.
She grabbed his shirt by the hem and pull
"Now where were we?" he asked, crawling toward her on all fours.
Giggling, Shahara pressed herself back against the cold marble. He placed his arms on either side of her and gave her a hungry kiss that set her heart pounding. Water splashed against her body in a warm, sensual rhythm that only accentuated the heat of his lips. Moaning in pleasure, she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and held him close.
As he started to pull her away from her position, she grabbed his hands. "Wait."
He cocked his brow curiously. "What?"
A wicked smile curved her lips. She wanted to give him the same pleasure he'd given her.
Moving over, she pressed him against the tub where she'd been. "You're mine to toy with," she said in a deep husky voice.
"What do you mean?"
She spread his arms out and placed them on the edge of the tub. "You heard me, love slave."
"You're being silly." His eyes darkened. "But I'm loving every minute of it."
"Good. Now be quiet and obey."
"Yes, mistress." Syn marveled at her as she reached for a bath sponge and soap. She lathered it up well, then returned to bathe his neck and chest. Her soft hands glided over his body in a way that nearly drove him mad. It took all his control to keep his hands where she'd placed them. In fact, the only way he could keep them still was to grip the edge so fiercely that his knuckles ached.
As she worked in slow circles lower and lower over his chest and abdomen, he thought he might die from his need for her. With a wicked laugh, she lowered the sponge to his cock. His entire body jerked in pleasure as her fingers stroked and teased his sensitive flesh.
"You're killing me, woman," he said between clenched teeth. He moved to draw her into a hug.
"No." She pushed him back. "You're mine, remember?"
Clenching his teeth, he returned his hands to the rim and decided that this would definitely kill him.
But if he had to die, he couldn't think of a better way to go.
She started bathing him again. Her fingers sliding over and under him. Just when he thought he'd scream, she finally moved her hands down to his legs.
Syn took a deep breath to steady his nerves. Her boldness amazed him. Especially given the fact that only a few weeks ago, she'd never have touched a man so intimately. Let alone one she'd been sent after.
Once she finished with his bath, he reached for the sponge. "My turn."
"Nope," she said pushing him away with a laugh. "Remember, you're my slave. Now be good and return to your station." And with that she began bathing herself.
Fire beat through him as he watched her hands moving over her own body, touching her own soap-laden breasts. Unable to stand it, he reached for his glass and drained it. Refilling it, he tried to keep his eyes off her, but despite his best effort, he couldn't.
She lifted one shapely leg and pulled the sponge over the calf, then up her thigh, and then to her . . .
"That's it," he groaned. "I can't take any more."
She arched a taunting brow and looked at him mischievously. Taking the glass from his hand, she took a sip from the place where he'd been drinking from.
"Lean back," she ordered one more time.
He did as she commanded.
Instead of pulling away again, she straddled him and set his glass aside. The warmth of her body on his stomach scorched him. As he reached up to bury his hands in her wet hair, she lifted herself and came down on him. A deep moan escaped his throat.
Shahara delighted in the tender pain that crossed his handsome face. She'd never felt so powerful, nor so beautiful. Leaning forward, she brushed his wet hair from his face and gave him a fierce kiss.
He felt so good that she couldn't believe it was real.
They'd been through so much in such a short amount of time. Yet it seemed like she'd known him forever. She could barely recall her life before they met. It seemed like some vague, lonely nightmare.
And the last thing she wanted was to return to it.
But what if he didn't feel the same way?
He'd never told her that he loved her, that he cared for her as anything more than . . .
Her heart stopped.
He hadn't even called her a friend. Could it really be that he was only using her for sex?
No. He wasn't like her brother--a manwhore always on the prowl. She couldn't imagine him being like this with anyone else. He was too guarded for that.
Syn scowled at her. "Is something wrong?"
"No." She offered him a smile and refused to think about it anymore. She didn't want to spoil this time with him. And if it was just a moment fate had set aside for her, then the last thing she wanted was for it to end.
If this was all there was for them, then she would enjoy it while it lasted.
He took her right breast into his mouth. Shahara leaned her head back, and moaned at the pleasure of his tongue flicking across her nipple as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. She rocked her hips against his, drawing him deep inside.
Suddenly, he leaned her back against the tub, sending waves of water over the rim to splash against the floor.
His strokes became faster as he pressed himself deeper and deeper inside her. Shahara dug her nails into his back, delighting in his intensifying pace. Her body began a needful throb that kept beat with his rhythm. Just as she thought she'd scream out for him to stop torturing her so, her body erupted into waves of blissful release.
"Shahara," he groaned a moment before she felt him shudder as well.
Her breathing labored, she held him against her and stroked the wet strands of his hair. "I love you, Syn," she said before she could stop herself.
He withdrew from her so fast that it left her feeling empty. "What?"
She swallowed in sudden trepidation and anger as she realized he wasn't happy about her stupid declaration.
Why did I say it? I'm such an idiot!
She wanted him to return her words, not look at her with such panic in his eyes. But she wasn't a coward and she would stand by her slip because it was the truth. "I said I love you."
Syn stared at her in disbelief. No one had said those words to him since the night he'd proposed to Mara. Never had he expected them to come from another female.
Especially not a seax.
He wanted to tell her he loved her, too, but the words lodged themselves painfully in his throat and for the sake of his soul, he couldn't bring them out.
C'mon, say it.
Don't you dare!
His common sense and his heart warred with each other as he saw the expectant look on her face. I have to say something . . .
And before he could stop himself, he spoke the first thing that came to his mind. "That's nice."
You lame moron. What a stupid thing to say. She tells you she loves you and you come back with "That's nice?" Gods! You might as well tell her that her ass is fat and go ahead and get the groin kick.
This time you deserve it.
Hurt flickered across her face an instant before rage. "That's nice!" she spat. "That's all you have to say?"
Say it. Tell her you love her.
I can't. I can't love her. It would destroy her career and her family.
Let her go so that she can live.
Bullshit. You're not that altruistic and you know it.
And with that, he knew why he couldn't return the words. He finally understood the truth behind his stupidity.
He was afraid. Shahara had been right when she'd said he was afraid to let people get close to him. Because if he trusted her and she betrayed him, it would kill him. He couldn't go through that again.
I'm so sorry, Shahara . . .
Angrily, she left the tub and grabbed a towel. "You know what I think C.I. stands for?" she raged. "Completely Insensitive!"
"Shahara, wait." He moved toward her.
"Stay away from me."
He left the tub and pulled her into his arms before she could make it to the door. "Don't be like this. I do care for you."
Her gaze turned even more frigid. "But you don't love me."
"No," he lied.
She clenched her teeth and fought against his hold. Tears welled in her eyes, and Syn damned himself for the bastard he was.
He deserved to live his life alone. Isolated. I can't believe I'm hurting the only woman I've ever really loved . . .
Her or you, boy. Her or you.
And he'd been hurt enough in his life. He couldn't let her completely destroy him any more than he could tear her away from her family and career. He cupped her face in his hands. Pain constricted his throat. "I do need you, Shahara. I do. But I can't offer you anything more than that."
Shahara tensed as he pulled her back into his arms and laid his head down on her shoulder. Her first impulse was to drop-kick him right in his exposed testicles, but in spite of her anger, she knew it didn't change her feelings for him.
She still loved him whether he returned her feelings or not. Gah, I'm pathetic.
Closing her eyes, she damned fate for its cruelty. She'd finally found a man she could trust and love, and he didn't return her feelings.
I could die.
"Please don't be angry," he whispered.
Wrapping her arms around him, she decided that for now he needed her and, if he needed her, then he might grow to love her as well.
Maybe if she were patient . . .
"I'm not angry," she said quietly. She was more hurt than anything else. And while there was anger, it wasn't at him. It was at Mara and the universe and all the other reasons that had warped Syn to the point he couldn't open himself up to her.
But she wasn't mad at him.
Syn pulled back and stared at her until he was sure she'd spoken honestly. Once the fire faded from her cheeks and eyes, he toweled himself off.
"C'mon." He tossed the towel aside and took her hand. "Let's get some sleep while we can."
She followed him, but he could still feel her sadness. It would be so easy to make her happy, but the scar of his father's sin ran too deep. It had branded him since his birth and it destroyed everything it touched.
Sooner or later, it would destroy if not her, then their relationship. Because sooner or later another curious reporter or official would show up and expose him all over again. They would go after her and it would cost her everything.
She would be guilty by association and that would cause her to hate him.
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