ROMULUS (The Innerworld Affairs Series, Book 1)

by Marilyn Campbell

Once she assured him that she had no questions at this time, he left her to her own devices. For hours she poured over volumes of material, purposely not stopping for a lunch break. The possibility of running into Romulus in the dining room effectively killed her hunger pangs.

  At the end of the day, the five-minute shuttle ride to her apartment contrasted sharply with ugly memories of driving in traffic to and from the foundation offices every day. She admitted that there were a few things to appreciate in this new world and she could hardly wait to get back to her studies tomorrow. It was a good sign.

  Cherry dropped in while she was having dinner and, before she thought about it, Aster told her about the episode with Romulus. "You see what happens when I follow your advice?"

  "Whoa, kid. My advice was good. After what you told me the other day, I understand how he would have scared you and that bit about him talking to your mind is really freaky. But he told you what his mistake was. His only crime was reading the wrong book while trying to do the right thing. More than likely, if he had just acted naturally, we'd be having a much more interesting conversation tonight. Aw, c'mon, kid, give him another chance."

  "He won't want another chance. He knows. He saw it in my mind." Until she said the words, she had not realized that his reading her thoughts and knowing her secret had upset her almost as much as what he had done.

  Cherry twisted her features into an expression of complete exasperation but refrained from giving more advice. "Okay, my turn. Starting this Friday, I'm going to work in the Indulgence Center."

  "What?"

  "God, what a face! I'll be working in Fantasy World as an actress! I'll play parts in other people's fantasies, bit ones at first, but when they see how good I am, I know I'll be doing lead roles in no time. The best part is, because it's in the entertainment field, even the small roles pay fairly well.

  "This is a dream come true for me. When I was a kid, I would pretend I was a star and everyone came to see me, begging for my autograph. My parents swore I'd burn in hell for such thoughts but I never forgot that dream."

  Aster managed a genuine smile. "I know you'll be great too. I always thought you were a big showoff."

  Cherry beamed under Aster's encouraging words. She never felt as confident as she acted. "Geez, I only meant to visit for a minute. I assume you got a job working with numbers. Do you think you'll like it?"

  "I think so. I'd tell you about it but I know you'd be totally bored by the details."

  "You're right there. I've got to go, kid. Keep your chin up. I have a good feeling about this guy. You'll see."

  Aster gave her friend one last skeptical look before closing the door behind her. Try as she might, it was impossible to deny that from the first moment she saw Romulus, Aster felt drawn to him. And not simply because he had the power to assist her. She could not forget the unfamiliar longing that had accompanied the touch of his lips on hers, a kiss so sensuous that the memory of it made her sigh.

  * * *

  Rom recalled occasions in the past when he may have made a slight error in judgment. But never had he so grossly miscalculated a situation. It was completely illogical.

  The signs had been coming for some time. He had made excuses for the tension that had begun weeks ago and the fierce burning that ignited four days ago when he had first touched her. But now there could be no more denials. Touching Aster's mind only confirmed it. Part of him had fought to remain with her.

  His mating time was upon him at a point in his career when it could be ruinous, at a time when Innerworld needed him to be at his levelheaded best. His fever would soon build to an internal inferno until nothing mattered but the antidote. He knew for certain now that the cure was Aster—an unacceptable female. To possess her completely, to join with her, would destroy his career. He already realized how vulnerable he was to her when he had been unable to refute her logic at lunch in a calm manner and when the need to kiss her made him forget to confront her about her interest in the filters.

  There was one thing he was not mistaken about. Her initial response to him, though hesitant, had been filled with desire. Would the fever consume her also? He was certain Terrans did not suffer the same symptoms as Noronians. At least she would not be coming to him—not after what he had done. It simply remained for him to stay away from her. Somehow he had to ignore the burning. As far as he knew, he would be the first Noronian to accomplish that feat.

  Chapter 8

  Nick Valentino always believed he would make it. Even when he had to quit school at fourteen to get a job, he had told himself that it was only temporary. His older brother was in jail, his father was a bum, not around half the time and drunk when he was, and his mother had gotten too sick to work. It had been up to Nick to feed them.

  He had taken care of his mom until she died and never forgot his promise to her not to end up like his father or brother. He would be somebody, someday.

  On his sixteenth birthday he had headed south in search of his fortune. Nick landed in Fort Lauderdale along with the other runaways who slept behind garbage dumpsters, but he never considered himself one of them. His situation was only temporary.

  When he couldn't get work, he sold his blood then learned to sell himself. There were plenty of wealthy, older women happy to pay for his company. He became Valentino and learned how to give more pleasure than he received. He taught himself a gimmick to use when he was with an exceptionally old or unattractive customer. While his hands and mouth did what he was being paid for, he concentrated on the money he would have someday, itemizing each expensive thing he would buy. By the time he got to the accessories on his Ferrari, he had a satisfactory erection. Nick knew his mother would not have been proud of what he did, but he slept on clean sheets and ate three meals a day. And it was all temporary.

  One woman had seen something more in him than a pleasant diversion. She referred him to a friend who got him his first steward's job. It was a definite step up. Of course there were still bored, lonely women on the cruises he worked and he was not above earning extra tips. The difference was that he could afford to be more choosy. His bank account had been growing but he was years away from keeping his promise to his mother.

  Until now. Nick's thoughts jerked back to the present. One day he was scrounging for nickels and the next he had the key to a fortune.

  Signing on at a volterrin mining camp was serious business to these people. Leaves of absence were doled out sparingly and a miner agreed to remain in one of the distant provinces for at least two years. Nick laughed at all the points the counselor had considered negative. After the last four years, it sounded like a vacation to him.

  So what if mining was boring, manual labor and few human women resided at the camp? He would be rich! If only he could brag to all the assholes who thought he was nothing. If only his mother knew that he had kept his promise.

  Thoughts of untold riches produced the usual result for Nick. Rubbing his hand over the bulge in his pants, he knew no woman had ever aroused him as much as a hundred-dollar bill, but he still preferred a woman for sexual relief.

  Having received a large bonus for signing up as a miner, he was sure he could afford a night out. His caretaker had told him about the Indulgence Center. He had never paid for sex before. It might be kind of a kick to be on the receiving end for a change.

  Wearing his customary skin-tight jeans and muscle-revealing t-shirt, he left to find the Indulgence Center.

  * * *

  Tarla frowned at the unopened correspondence on Rom's desk. For all the work he had done he may as well have stayed out the last two days. One minute he had his head buried in his work and the next he stomped out of the office, only to return a few minutes later and repeat the whole process again. She had tried to talk to him but he insisted nothing was wrong. Well, she thought, whatever it was had better peak soon. He was driving her crazy.

  Tarla's intuition told her Aster was his problem and she wondered how it would feel to have a man behave so foolishly over
her.

  The emptiness she had lived with for so long threatened to take over again and she decided to do something about it. Perhaps she would treat herself to a fantasy, maybe something exotic. Yes, that was the answer. She felt better just thinking of what the IC might offer her tonight.

  As Tarla approached the reception desk, she spotted a dark-haired young man wearing a very interesting outfit which blatantly emphasized every muscle in his compact body. He was studying the directory with a puzzled expression. The way he looked, he should be on the menu.

  "May I be of some help?" Tarla offered.

  Nick had seen the woman approach out of the corner of his eye and was immediately intrigued by her sultry voice. He turned to charm her with one of his sexiest smiles but was halted by the vision in front of him. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her long black hair hung straight to her tiny waist and her thick bangs stopped just above her dark, slanted eyes. Her exotic looks made him think of a Tahitian princess.

  "Are you, I mean, do you work here?" Nick asked when he finally found his voice.

  Tarla smiled, wondering at his discomfort. She could even detect a slight blush under his tanned complexion. "No, but I've been here before and you look confused."

  "That's putting it mildly. I've only been here a few days and I've been confused most of the time. I mean, I know why I came but then I started reading this directory and—"

  "You just arrived, literally?" Tarla interrupted. "I mean, are you one of the new arrivals?" She made no attempt to hide her interest.

  "Yeah, I guess that's what they call us." He was pleased with the way her eyes got bigger when she heard that. "Anyway, I'm not sure what to make of all this stuff."

  "Then you should definitely have my help. My name is Tarla. I hope we can be friends," she said sincerely.

  "I'm Nick Valentino. Umm, could I buy you dinner?"

  "I think that would be a nice start, Nick. Then maybe you'd like a tour to help you decide how to spend the rest of the evening."

  Tarla directed him to a cozy, dimly lit restaurant where they were seated at a table next to a fireplace. Nick was completely entranced with the beautiful creature seated across from him. Her hair reflected the dancing colors from the burning logs and her body moved with the swaying sounds of the background lute music. It was a very romantic scenario for two people who had met only ten minutes ago.

  When the waiter had taken their order, Nick launched the first and, for him, the most difficult, question. "Look, I really don't know what's expected of me. I mean, if I was in my own world and I was with someone as gorgeous as you, I'd know all the right moves. Here, I'm not sure about anything."

  "First of all, nothing is expected of you, except to enjoy yourself. Second, you should always follow your instincts, unless they're harmful." It would have been easier to answer him if she was feeling indifferent but the opposite was true. The nearness of this excellent specimen of masculinity was exhilarating. The fact that he was a Terran as well had her blood sizzling. How could she ever have thought they were an inferior breed? She searched Nick's dark eyes and saw a reflection of her own hunger.

  "Relationships are much simpler here. A human's need to couple is a natural physical urge and it's unhealthy to suppress it. On the other hand, love and friendship involve an emotional attachment. When a Noronian couple mate for life, it's called joining. It's a lot more complex than your marriage."

  Nick had gathered that people here had a different attitude toward sex the minute he'd started reading the directory in the lobby. He decided to take his cue from the relaxed manner in which Tarla discussed the issue. The conversation continued as each asked technical and hypothetical questions about the other's world, but never straying far from the subject of male/female relationships.

  "Tarla, I haven't heard anything you've said for the last ten minutes. I am so turned on that if I stand up I'm going to embarrass myself. Is that following my instincts?"

  Tarla was not embarrassed. Her flush was from sheer pleasure. His unpolished flattery was refreshing and added to her own arousal. She reached across the table, slowly dragging a long fingernail along his muscular forearm.

  "I'm very glad to hear that, because I think if I just rubbed my thighs together I could bring my own release. But I won't. Instead, we're going to sit here a while longer and talk about something un-stimulating and then I promised you a tour, remember? Now, tell me what career you've selected."

  His body's heated reaction to her words astonished him. He couldn't remember that ever happening so easily before. Although she suggested a cooling-off period, her voice and eyes kept the burner on.

  She could not have chosen a better subject to sidetrack him though. A discussion of Innerworld mining and his personal future led to his reasons behind his decision. Gradually, she encouraged him to tell her about his past. Of course he couldn't tell her everything, but as he spoke, he felt his heart soften for the first time since his mother had died. Tarla, a complete stranger and an actual alien, made him feel whole again and he didn't want to question why.

  Tarla remained quiet, holding his hand and letting her eyes speak of her compassion. She had no way of understanding the kind of life he knew in Outerworld but she had the ability to draw the pain from his soul. It wasn't necessary for Nick to know how she was doing it. After all, keeping a secret was not the same as being dishonest.

  Nick was not the most intelligent or sophisticated male she had ever encountered but he was sweet and sexy and so very vulnerable. He called to every one of her feminine instincts. Mostly he was begging to be loved, though he seemed unaware of it, and she wanted to be the one to give him that love. Yes, she thought, we could be very good for each other.

  "Come, Nick Valentino. You came here for a good time and so did I. If you'll put your trust in me for a few hours, I'm confident we'll both leave here a lot happier."

  Hand in hand, Tarla led Nick through the four wings of the complex, purposely leaving the West Wing for last. In each area, she was careful to point out what was offered there and the price ranges, like any competent tour guide.

  Nick asked a few questions and paid attention as she spoke, but he was not interested in a haircut or seeing a play and she knew it. "Since you've been such a good boy, I'm going to let you have what you came here for," she teased. "You paid for dinner, dessert will be my treat." She stopped his objection by quickly placing her finger on his lips. She stepped closer to him until their bodies were separated only by the light touch of her hand on his chest. "What is it you came here for, Nick? A quick release or a fantasy come true? You can have either you know." Her words came out breathlessly and she could feel his rapid heartbeat beneath her fingers, keeping pace with her own.

  "Why don't I leave it up to you?"

  She smiled softly and nodded. "I want you to stay right here for a little while. I'm going to make the arrangements for your special pleasure. Someone will come and tell you when it has been set up and where you should go. Do whatever that person says, okay?"

  He had not expected her to leave, just like that. "Wait, uh, what about you? I mean, didn't you come here for something tonight too? I thought, maybe, well, uh, will I see you again?" He knew he was stuttering like an inexperienced boy but he didn't want her to get away.

  "Now, now. You said you would leave it up to me. I promise you will see me again. Please, just relax and enjoy yourself."

  Nick was totally bewildered as she hurried away but he would not move from that spot for anything short of an earthquake. It felt like hours instead of only the thirty minutes that passed when a short figure, dressed in the trappings of a desert nomad, shuffled up to him. The head, completely covered by a beige muslin scarf, remained bowed.

  "You are The Sheik? Valentino?" The voice was a whisper, possibly a woman's.

  Nick almost laughed out loud but he did not want to spoil the surprise Tarla had arranged. "Yeah, I guess so."

  "Come with me please."

 
; Nick obediently followed the woman into a room decorated for a sultan. Brightly colored silks billowed from the ceiling and white satin pillows were scattered all over the floor. An oversized chaise longue sat in the center. Its gilded framework was embedded with hundreds of glittering gems and a rich burgundy velvet covered its cushions.

  While Nick gaped at the sumptuous display, his escort stepped aside and clapped her hands once. Instantly, three robed men came forward, bowing low before him.

  One man opened the lid of the box he was holding. Handing it to Nick, he said, "A tribute to The Sheik from his loyal subjects." It was filled with diamonds, rubies and emeralds of all shapes and sizes. They looked very real Nick thought as he tried to keep a straight face.

  The second man offered him an ornate silver key which was more than a foot long. "My country would be most honored if you would accept our gift of a palace overlooking the sea."

  Entering into the play with all the majesty he could muster, Nick solemnly took the key with a slight nod of his head and handed it to his guide along with the jewel box. With his feet apart and his arms folded across his chest, he took on the stance he imagined a sheik would assume while the third man spoke.

  "From my country I bring you four beautiful slave girls to ease the burdens of your days." He snapped his fingers and the women hustled forward with downcast eyes.

  Nick coolly inspected these last gifts. The four very different women, one fair and buxom, one dark-skinned and lean, another Oriental and petite and the last was tall and muscular with flaming orange hair, were clad in transparent harem costumes. Was he supposed to make his own selection for the evening?

  Nick barely noticed when his guide clapped her hands again and the men backed out of the room. The four women came forward and removed his clothing. Accustomed as he was to having strange women admire his naked body, he had never found himself exposed to so many female eyes at once.

  Somewhere a flute began playing and the slave girls gyrated to the rhythm. They circled him, forty fingers stroking with light feathery touches from his neck to his thighs until Nick's flesh was covered with goose bumps.