Hers To
C A P T I V A T E
By
Patricia A. Knight
Troll River Publications
Los Angeles, CA
Hers To Captivate
Verdantia Series Book 5
Copyright © 2015 Patricia A. Knight
ISBN: 987-1-939564-72-6
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted, with the exception of a reviewer who may quote passages in a review, without written prior permission from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, events, incidents and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Dedication:
To my wonderful readers.
I’m sorry I don’t write faster.
Acknowledgements:
Thanks to my usual cast of suspects! My wonderful critique group (in no particular order): Sweet M, Elizabeth, Brenda, Rachel, Stephanie and Travis. My dedicated editors: Tracy Seybold and Josephine Henke. And finally, my publisher, Troll River, for allowing me the freedom to create.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Glossary of Terms
Other books by Patricia A. Knight
Chapter One
The planet, Verdantia—spaceport city of Arkodaenia
Tristan DeHelios slouched against a tower of packing crates that vibrated from the ever-present rumble of arriving and departing starships and gazed off at a cluster of dockworkers busily unloading freight. In spite of his bored appearance, Trislistened carefully to the words of Lord Ramsey DeKieran, the gods-be-damned nanny inflicted upon him by his brother. Ramsey denied the accusation, but Tris knew better. Ramsey DeKieranwas there to ensure Tris didn’t screw up. Well… fuck Hel, and fuck the horse he rode in on. Bitter frustration seethed inside Tris. At thirty-two, he’d long outgrown the need for supervision, but Hel insisted on casting Tris as his heedless, immature, baby brother. Tris snorted.
“…and provide Dr. Giverny and our returning noblewomen with every possible protection and assistance.” Tristan’s former commanding officer and ostensible nanny stared at Tris with his eerie, indigo-ringed gray eyes. “Did you hear anything I said?”
Tris brought his hand to his forehead in a mock salute. “Yes, sir. Every possible protection and assistance, sir.”
Ram straightened and uncrossed his arms with a sound of disgust. “Stick it up your ass, Tristan. I’m no longer your superior officer. For the last time, I’m in Arkodaenia because Steffania is here with her Blue Daggers, and where my wife goes, I go.”
Tris arched an eyebrow. “You refused Gu-r-r-r-ley? I’m surprised he let you live.”Tris supposed calling his illustrious brother “Gu-r-r-r-ley” instead of “Hel” when he’d crashed Hel’s wedding was immature, but he couldn’t help the delight he experienced when the arrogant ass squirmed with mortification as all the elites of Verdantia looked on—and it was Hel’s given name. What had their mother been thinking? And why hadn’t his brother invited him? Was he that ashamed of Tristan? It had been almost two years and the slight still smarted.
Ram choked down a laugh but quickly sobered. “Yes, I refused your pompous ball sack of a brother. You are technologically competent. You’ve an uncanny knack for getting people to do things for you, and I have no question you’ll keep Dr. Giverny safe. You are the perfect man to smooth her way in setting up the neurological clinic and protect her in the process. I recommended you to High Lord DeTano and Queen Constante.” Ramsey snorted in disgust. “Despite you showing up in Nyth Uchel obscured by so much hair even your mother wouldn’t recognize you. I certainly didn’t. What is it about House DeHelios? Your family averse to good grooming?”
Tris shrugged. “I shaved off my beard and cut my hair.”
“Yes, and you still look like a roustabout.”A humorless smile distorted Ramsey’s mouth. He sniffed the air. “You smell like you spent the night on the floor of some dive.”
“Julia would object to you calling her establishment a…” Tris paused mid-sentence when Ram waved him silent. Hefollowed Ram’s gaze. The man lifted his head and grinned broadly at a hulking giant of a humanoid male descending a nearby starship gangway. The metal plating rattled under each ponderous step. The giant’s body obscured a petite beauty trailing him until the colossus stepped aside and ushered her forward with a delicacy at odds with his size.
“Verdantian,” said the giant, a smile splitting his face.
“Khlossian,” Ram acknowledged.
The behemoth strode up to Ram and slapped him on the shoulder in greeting. Ram staggered backward several feet then straightened. Tristan watched, bemused at the manhandling DeKieran allowed without protest.
His interest sharpened when the delicate beauty accompanying the Khlossian beamed up at Ramsey then dropped to her knees in front of him, placed her hands on her thighs, and bowed her head. “Dominus, I am very glad to see you.”
Ram reached down and drew her to her feet. “Pansy… er…Dr. Giverny. We left that behind on Vxloncia. It’s just Ram, or Lord DeKieran if you insist on formality. I’d like to introduce you to the man I mentioned in my communiqués.”
Well… by Her ruby red tits. That tiny morsel of delicious female flesh was Dr. Giverny? Was that a look of adoration the good doctor lavished on DeKieran? “Dominus” she had called him. What was the story behind that? Furthermore, how did Ramsey’s decidedly lethal wife feel about it? Tris chuckled to himself. This assignment promised to be far more entertaining than he’d thought. When Ramsey motioned him to join them, Tris sauntered over. The tiny beauty watched him approach then wrinkled her brow.
“Lord DeKieran, you are certain? The medical instruments I brought are irreplaceable. The equipment requires the most delicate handling.” She lowered her voice to a murmur and turned away. “This man doesn’t look… well… responsible.” Despite her attempt to conceal her words, Tris heard her.
Tris ignored the wash of anger that accompanied her voicing a sentiment he’d heard far too often. Instead, he slipped into the persona that had become his second skin, and put his head back and laughed. “Spend tonight with me, lovely, and you can decide for yourself how responsibly I handle delicate equipment.”
Ramsey snorted. “Dr. Angelica Giverny, meet Tristan DeHelios—your new bodyguard and med-center liaison officer.”
“Doctor.” Tris tipped his head and acknowledged her blank, owl-eyed expression. “I take it you wish me to oversee the off-loading of your medical supplies?” The woman nodded. Her stunning violet eyes blinked up at him in the most humorous way. So… this was the body he was to guard day and night for an indefinite future. He’d pictured some wizened old biddy. How delicious to be wrong. Damn, but life was good. “I’ll see to it, immediately. Oh, and Doc, about tonight—you can get back to me on that.” He winked at her still immobile features, chucked her under the chin and turned to stroll up the gangway and into the depths of the starship.
***
The quiet hum of the air circulators for the starship, VNV Revertar, was the only sound competing with his footstep
s as Tris strode down the narrow gray hallways of the starship that had delivered forty genetically-priceless Verdantian noblewomen back to their home planet—in addition to the delectable person of Dr. Angelica Giverny and her sensitive equipment. Tris narrowed his eyes and straightened as he walked.
Since the trial of the Vxloncian slaver, Vittal Lontz, and his subsequent conviction—due primarily to the testimony of one Dr. Angelica Giverny—she’d been the object of several attempts to terminate her life.Vittal Lontz had been a mere planetary player. The task force set up by the Galactic Agency for the Protection of Sentients, or GAPS, was dedicated to shutting down the multi-galactic slavery cartel. From the repeated attempts on Dr. Giverny’s life, GAPS was getting too close to the serpent’s head for comfort.
Dr. Giverny knew more than she realized. Whoever orchestrated those attempts had gone straight to the most elite and most expensive assassins in the known universes. Apparently, expense wasn’t considered. The attempts narrowly failed. Tris was in Arkodaenia along with the Blue Daggers to ensure any subsequent attempts continued to be equally unsuccessful.
Not only did Verdantia need the neurological treatment center Giverny would set up in the spaceport, it seemed the luscious Dr. Angelica had a personal history with Ramsey DeKieran. After all the man had done for him, Tris would hate to let Ram down by not protecting someone important to him and vital to Verdantia. An ironic smile twisted his lips. Unlike most of the make-work jobs that his brother sent him on, this assignment held the certainty he was needed—and then there was the lovely doctor herself. He promised himself a careful pursuit of that delectable wisp of femininity. He’d enjoy putting the violet-eyed beauty on her knees in front of him. His groin tightened at the thought.
Tristan scanned the corridors as he walked. The payload commander had to be around somewhere. A tall, slim figure dressed in khaki fatigues turned the corner, head down, flipping fingers across the face of a compact tap-screen. His shoulder bars indicated the rank of captain. Tris had lucked out. He’d run straight into the ship’s commanding officer.
“Captain, my name is Tristan DeHelios. I’m looking for the payload commander, I…” The man halted and raised his head. Incredulity flooded the captain’s elegant, chiseled features and a pair of green eyes, once familiar, widened. The tap-screen slipped out of his hands and fell with a rattle to the deck. Tris knew how he felt. By Her light. It couldn’t be. But…“Magellan DeLan? Mage? You’re the captain on this ship?”
Tris grinned at the stupefaction covering the face of the male he’d known in Nyth Uchel. His advance toward the captain turned into a stalk as the man remained silently frozen in place. Tris prowled up to him, stepped him backward against the bulkhead and planted his outstretched arms on either side of the man’s head. Not more than inches from the captain’s face, Tris drank him in. The Magellan DeLan that Tris had known had been a pretty teenage boy—a tall, gawky youth with the promise of broad shoulders above his narrow waist and with an innocent, finely modeled face of shocking green eyes and topped by a mop of black hair. Now, the body beneath his fatigues had filled in and broadened with clearly defined muscle. Mage’s pretty, boyish face had hardened and refined into that of an adult male. He exuded a sensual allure that was anything but innocent.
“Look at you. You’re even more fucking beautiful.” A surge of heat flooded Tristan. “You aren’t sixteen anymore, Mage. You’re a full-grown man. What’s it been? Eight years?” Tristan’s cock responded immediately to the lithe, muscled body of the ship’s captain as Tris pressed him into the wall with his pelvis. “So… I’m free to do now what I wouldn’t allow myself then.” Tris held Mage in a steady stare and his face descended by fractions of an inch, his intention clear. Swiftly, Mage’s hand wrapped his throat, halting his descent with impressive strength. “Fuck, Captain.” Tris leaned into the man’s steely grip, challenging him. “Do you really want me to stop?” The pressure against his larynx eased almost imperceptibly. It was enough.
Tris captured the man’s head in his hands, sank his fists into Mage’s thick black hair and devoured the full lips that had haunted him for eight long years—years of regret about what might have been—what should have been. After a moment of hesitation, the captain groaned, wrapped his hands around Tristan’s waist and returned the kiss, giving back the same ferocious assault he received. Teeth bit and tongues explored. Hard cock ground into hard cock in a breathless explosion of lust. Too soon, footsteps and voices sounded from a nearby corridor. When Mage stiffened beneath him, Tristan swore and stepped back, wiping his mouth. His chest heaved and his cock begged for freedom from the constriction of his leather breeches. Their eyes stayed locked on each other. Some things never changed—his body’s reaction to Mage DeLan was one of them.
The dark-haired, green-eyed captain straightened, licked his lips and swallowed heavily. “I thought you were dead.”
Tris worked to control his breathing and appear normal as two crew members walked by and nodded respectfully to Mage with a murmur of, “Sir.”
One leaned down, picked up the tap-screen lying on the deck and handed it to Mage. “This yours, Captain?”
“Yes, thank you, Evans. Carry on,” Mage said. With curious glances at both of them, the crewmen continued down the corridor.
He shouldn’t have put a starship captain in such a compromising position and particularly not Mage. A crooked grin pulled at Tristan’s mouth and he kept his words low and intimate. “Sorry. Wrong time. Wrong place. That was not well-done of me.”
Mage dropped his head and shook it helplessly before looking up with the light of laughter in his eyes. “If you’d been any better you could have had me on the departure deck of my own ship, crew be damned. Don’t worry about it. They won’t talk.”
Tris chuckled but sobered on a wash of painful memory. “The way you left Nyth Uchel…What I allowed you to think.” Tris shrugged and looked down the hallway as the crewmen vanished around a corner. “I couldn’t let that stand.” When Tris returned his gaze to Mage, the man regarded him with a crooked smile.
“What? That you’d rather fuck my horse than a half-grown snot like me? I think those were your parting words.”
Tris grunted softly. “Yeah… well… I lied.”
The man, whose facial features had never failed to remind Tris of a fucking piece of art, cocked his head and shot Tristan a wry glance. “Evidently.” Both men grinned at each other until Mage straightened and squared his shoulders. “So, Tristan DeHelios, what business brings you to my ship? Why are you in Arkodaenia?”
Tristan wanted certain details locked down before business distracted them. He held up a forefinger. “First, how long are you in port? Where are you quartered?”
Mage stood for a moment, a look of consideration on his face. “The Revertar is home for re-fitting. We’re getting one of the new hyper-drive engines and some updated electronics for her nav system. As soon as we offload, she goes into stationary orbit for maintenance and an equipment upgrade that will probably take the better part of ninety days. I’d planned to stay onboard with the engineering staff and a skeleton crew.”
Tristan crossed his arms and shook his head. “Negative. Unsatisfactory response, Captain DeLan.” He held Mage’s gaze steadily. “How can I see more of you if you are floating around somewhere among the stars? I do want to see more of you. I have an apartment in Arkodaenia with ample space.” Tris paused and put his hands on his hips. “Spend your stay in port with me.”
He waited with greater impatience than he wanted to acknowledge while Mage leveled a flat stare at him. Long seconds ticked away. Tris itched under the scrutiny of those intelligent green eyes. Disappointment bedeviled Tristan as the seconds accumulated. The man was going to refuse him.
Mage lifted a shoulder. “Sure. Chief Engineer Cox could do without me hanging over his shoulder and getting in the way. I need a week or so to get things lined out before I can join you, but… until then, how about dinner tonight? We can catch up.” Mage
gave him a muted smile.
The degree of pleasure Tris felt at Mage’s answer shocked him. He relaxed now that he’d received the answer he wanted. “I’d enjoy that. Do you know the Eight Bells on High Street? They serve a decent meal and the service is good.” Satisfaction and anticipation warmed him.
“Yes.” Mage nodded. “The Eight Bells it is. Now, you were looking for the payload commander. What can he and I do for you?”
Tristan laughed to himself. More than you know, Captain, more than you know.
Yes, this assignment had all the earmarks of becoming one hell of an entertaining ride.
Chapter Two
Dr. Angelica Giverny tore her eyes away from the departing back of that insolent, unkempt thug, Tristan DeHelios. The thought that he should be the first male since Lord DeKieran to inspire her to drop to her knees and beg to serve sparked anger—and a sliver of concern—within her. Is that who I really am? Of all the worthy males on her own home planet— boring, unadventurous, missionary-position males—she had to be drawn to this, this… Verdantian lout.
She could still feel the gentle stroke of his finger under her chin, and the heat from his silver-eyed stare had provoked a riotous response from her body. Oh, and about tonight—you can get back to me on that, she mimicked silently, drawing herself up in rigid indignation. Was he serious? Her astonishment at both his actions and her body’s response had rendered her speechless. Of course, now she could think of snappy comebacks, but unless she wanted to scream them across the dock at his retreating ass, his very fine retreating ass…
She sent an unwilling glance toward Tristan DeHelios and released a long sigh. Her indignant posture melted with her exhale. Where did these submissive impulses come from? She’d surprised herself as well as Lord Ramsey when she’d spontaneously dropped to her knees to greet him. She’d not done that to a male since leaving her life as “slave Pansy” behind on Vxloncia. Had her time on that hellacious planet altered her subconscious beyond mending? More disquieting, perhaps Vxloncia had freed a true part of herself that growing up on Talleo IV had buried. How can I help so many others find their true selves, and yet I do not know who I am?
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