Keeper of the Heart

by Lindsey, Johanna

  “Falon, you met her when she was worried about me. She won’t be like that now.”

  “I care not,” he replied adamantly. “In time I will allow you to visit her. For now, you have other obligations to claim your attention, a new life to adjust to. Do you need help, you will come to me, not to your mother. Is that not as it should be?”

  “No,” she maintained stubbornly.

  He lifted a black brow. “You still mean to pout?”

  “Whatever it takes, warrior, to get you to be reasonable.”

  “I am being reasonable,” he insisted, pointing out, “I could have said never, yet did I consider your feelings in the matter.”

  “The hell you did,” she growled. “You mean to deny me my mother and my friends. Or hasn’t it occurred to you that both Martha and Corth are visitor-made?”

  “That is the first thing that occurred to me.”

  “You farden—!”

  “Enough, woman! It will be as I say, and you will accept what I say.”

  Don’t bet on it, babe, she said, but not aloud.

  Chapter 34

  Because of the Global Shield surrounding the planet, it was impossible to land a ship anywhere other than at Spaceport. Transferring was unaffected by the Shield, however, and with Jadell’s help in the Control Room, Brock was able to pinpoint the exact location of Falon’s house to Transfer their party directly inside it.

  Shanelle had only a few minutes to say good-bye to her brother, who would be returning with Brock to Sha-Ka-Ra. But Dalden surprised her by telling her he would see her again in only a few weeks, when he brought the Catrateri Ambassador and his party to Ka’al to complete negotiations with Falon. Apparently it was the Catrateri who had volunteered their ship for Falon’s use, but there had been no time to bargain for any more than Falon’s agreement to allow them to finish negotiations on Falon’s home ground. That Falon would have agreed to that was astounding. But Dalden confessed he would have agreed to anything at the time, he was so impatient to follow her.

  This managed to make Shanelle feel a certain amount of guilt, despite her present anger at Falon. She knew how he felt about visitors, how all Ba-Har-ani felt, for that matter. It was the Ba-Har-ani who had insisted the planet be closed down, and no visitor had set foot in their country for these past fifteen years. Now, indirectly because of her, Falon was letting some in, but she knew he couldn’t like it. For Falon’s sake she could wish the bargain hadn’t been made, yet because of it Dalden would be returning, and she couldn’t deny she was glad of that.

  She had, of course, made up with her brother during the past week for the altercation they’d had when he first brought her up to the ship. He hadn’t been able to stay mad at her any more than she could with him. Now she wished she didn’t have to part with him at all, but knowing he’d be back soon made it a lot easier to say good-bye.

  Falon was there to hold her hand for the Transferring and was still holding it when the five of them and all their possessions from the ship appeared in a large, two-story-high eating hall that was presently vacant, for the hour was very early morning, Ka’al time. Long tables abounded, most with padded benches rather than backless couches, but some with actual chairs. Huge, painted zaalskin canvases covered a good deal of the walls, all lavishly framed in gold. But there were too many walls, not enough windows, and no open archways letting in cool breezes.

  The first thing Shanelle really noticed was the stuffiness, the closed-in heat. It was oppressive enough to make her remark to Falon, “Perhaps you saw some things in Sha-Ka-Ra that you’d like to incorporate here.”

  “And perhaps I did not. This is a two-story house, Shanelle, not a palace. The meeting hall makes it larger than most houses, still is it just a house.”

  “I wasn’t complaining.”

  “Were you not?”

  “If I was, I would have mentioned the lack of openness and breezes,” she said tightly. “But I’m sure I’ll get used to it.”

  “I am equally sure, yet for a while will you be less than comfortable, for my country is much hotter than yours. Because of this, you may continue to wear your own clothes for a time, for the clothes of our women might be too warm for you just now.”

  “Why do I get the feeling we’re not talking about a chauri, Falon?”

  “Because we are not.”

  “Then what—”

  Shanelle didn’t bother to finish, because a woman came through a door at the end of the hall just then, and she figured she had got her answer. The female wore a narrow white skirt that began just below her hips and extended down to the floor. But that was all she wore. Nothing covered the entire top half of her body, except a little brown hair that hung a mere few inches over her shoulders.

  The woman had seen them. Large breasts bobbed as she performed a half bow toward the shodan and offered him a formal greeting. He did no more than order her to fetch someone to collect their belongings and distribute them to the appropriate rooms.

  Shanelle said nothing until the woman hurried along the front of the hall, her breasts bobbing again, and disappeared out of a different door. She then turned to her lifemate, the amber of her eyes heated to a brightness that could scorch. “Warmer clothes, huh? If you think I’m going to go around dressed like that, warrior, think again.”

  Three of the four men burst out laughing. Falon was not one of them. But Jadell stepped to her side to enlighten her. “She is a slave, Shanelle.”

  She stared at him in horror at this reminder of another thing she had to face, now that she had a Bar-Har-ani for a lifemate. “I should have known,” she said in disgust. “Stars, you don’t even dress them decently.”

  He was not the least bit perturbed by her reaction. He even grinned at her as he explained. “Her clothing proclaims her a slave. Free women are completely covered by their clothing. I, for one, will miss seeing you in your wispy chauri when you start wearing—”

  “You, brother, have been too long without the comforts of your own females,” Falon cut in, startling Shanelle with the anger in his tone. “Best you take yourself off to your rooms to correct that, so that your excessive admiring of my lifemate will end here and now.”

  Jadell chuckled. “You jest, Falon. If you think that will keep me or any other man from sighing over your woman, then you overlook what a beauty she is.”

  “Jadell, I am warning you—”

  Jadell threw up his hands in surrender, though he was still amused, and still in a mood to goad. “I am going, but you cannot change what is, brother. She is too lovely to ignore, and your scowls will make no difference in that. Best you get used to—”

  It was the step Falon took toward him that ended Jadell’s warning and sent him off in a hurry. Tarren and Deamon followed him, both grinning, which did nothing to get that mentioned scowl off Falon’s face.

  Shanelle lowered her eyes to the floor before Falon saw her reaction to his jealousy. She couldn’t help it, being pleased and amused, so much so that her anger disappeared for the moment. But it was so telling, his jealousy, so indicative of very strong feelings, and anything that confirmed her hope that this man could love her, perhaps already did love her, was welcome as far as she was concerned.

  But Falon noticed her amusement and said sternly, “It is no matter to laugh over, woman.”

  “Of course it is. He was only teasing you, Falon. He wasn’t serious.”

  He stared blankly at her for a moment before replying. “Indeed was he serious. Why do you think he was not?”

  “Because I’m no different than any other Kan-is-Tran woman, golden from head to foot. I blend in—”

  His hoot of laughter cut her off. “Did you blend in, I would not have immediately noticed you and wanted you with a passion unequaled to anything felt before. And here, woman, you will not blend in. Can you truly not know how desirable men find you?”

  She was blushing profusely before he had finished. “All right, if I accept that, then I have to know—your own brother wo
uldn’t try anything, would he?”

  “No.”

  “Then why do you get so mad at him?”

  “Because I do not like any man looking at you in that way, even him.” And then he sighed. “Yet as he says, it is something I must become used to. And best I do so quickly, before I am compelled to issue challenge.”

  “Now, you don’t want to do that.” She grinned and took the step that brought her close enough to wrap her arms around him. “I hope you don’t think I’m encouraging any of that stuff that annoys you.”

  “You are the keeper of my heart, kerima, thus do I have complete faith in you.”

  She squeezed him a bit harder for that sweet remark. “Then I ought to tell you I don’t mind your jealousy one little bit. Kan-is-Tran warriors don’t experience it, you know, so it’s kind of unique for me and something I plan to enjoy until you get it under control. Am I shameful to admit that?”

  “To wish me to suffer the frustration of those emotions? Indeed should you be ashamed.”

  She hugged him still harder. “So why don’t you sound angry?”

  “I cannot be displeased by something you find enjoyment in. Have I not promised to make you happy?”

  The teasing mood left Shanelle abruptly. “You did and you do—to a degree, and when I’m not furious with you for your warriorlike inflexibility. But there’s something I have to hear before even the happiness you do give me can be complete.”

  He leaned back so he could see her expression. His face was utterly serious now. “Tell me.”

  She slowly shook her head. “It wouldn’t be the same if I told you, Falon. This is something you’ll have to figure out for yourself.”

  Chapter 35

  There were four rooms in Falon’s house that were for his exclusive use. The one for sleeping contained a warrior-sized bed that made Shanelle smile. Even her adjustibed wouldn’t expand that big. There was a large bathroom with a dressing area and closets, and a room that was completely empty that Falon had yet to find a use for.

  The largest room was for informal meetings. It was bigger than Shanelle’s entire chambers at home, and filled with nearly a dozen long couches and chairs, well padded and covered in buttery-soft zaalskin in both black and brown. Solid-gold tables of different sizes were scattered all around, as well as gold chests set with precious stones. Even the gaali-stone stands were made of gold, as well as the boxes that contained the stones. Thick white fur, pieced together so perfectly that no seams could be detected, covered the entire floor. It made Shanelle hot just looking at it.

  His house might not be the size of a palace, but it was definitely bigger than Falon had let on. The ceilings were all high. And there were two or three large windows in each room, even in the bathroom, that let in a good deal of light and at least a little breeze.

  Shanelle ran her fingers along one of the tables and remarked, “No wonder the Catrateri are so eager to make a deal with you. The gold in this room alone could probably put their economy back on a sound footing.”

  She turned, but Falon hadn’t heard her. He had gone back into the dressing room and came out of it now, carrying a short piece of white cloth. He shook it open when he reached her, then almost reverently set it across her shoulders. The short white cape fell no lower than her waist, and fastened with three gold chains that draped at different lengths across her chest and hooked over a large round brooch at her right shoulder that was set with sparkling gems of diamond clarity.

  As Falon fastened it for her, his expression gave testimony to the words he spoke. “You cannot know how much I have wanted to see you cloaked in my protection, Shanelle. From the first moment I saw you, I wanted you adorned in my colors.”

  “White.” She smiled, remembering. “I just happen to have a white chauri I might wear for you sometime.”

  “As I recall, it drove me wild the last time you wore it—and you said you would never wear white again.”

  “So maybe I’ve changed my—”

  “Falon!” a female voice interrupted excitedly. “I was told you just returned—”

  The voice stopped with an audible gasp, and Shanelle turned to see another long-skirted, bare-chested female staring right at her. This one was exceptionally lovely, with large, dark brown eyes and hair, the hair again cut to the shoulder, probably so it couldn’t conceal those magnificently rounded breasts on display, the dark nipples stark against the palest ivory skin Shanelle had ever seen.

  Falon slipped an arm around Shanelle’s waist to turn her more fully toward the woman, whose eyes had now dropped meekly to the floor. He was smiling, which brought a stiffness to Shanelle’s back she wasn’t even aware of.

  “I am sorry, master,” the woman continued in a much subdued tone. “I was not aware you had a guest.”

  “Shanelle is not a guest, Janya, she is my lifemate.” Janya’s eyes popped upward in surprise at that, but quickly lowered again before Falon added, “There is no need for you to bow your head to her or me, nor to anyone else, for this rising are you gifted with your freedom.”

  Those dark brown eyes popped upward again, even rounder than before, and stayed staring at Falon with a great deal of confusion. “My freedom? I do not understand.”

  Shanelle was utterly amazed herself. She hadn’t expected this, at least not so soon. That Falon would break with custom just for her … He did love her— he had to.

  But at the moment he wasn’t concerned with her reaction or her gratitude. He was addressing Janya’s confusion.

  “You are free to leave this house, Janya, with all rights returned to you. If it is your wish, I will provide you with an escort to return you to the far north countries from which you were captured and sold into slavery.”

  “I may leave … ? No!”

  The woman was suddenly hurtling across the room to drop to her knees at Falon’s feet, where she wrapped both arms tightly around his right leg. Shanelle stiffened, her feelings of delight and gratitude making way for a darker one that was nothing short of savage. She knew exactly what this demonstration meant, even before she heard the woman’s pleadings.

  “Do not send me away, Falon!” Janya cried. “I do not want freedom from your ownership!”

  Falon let go of Shanelle to gently remove Janya from his leg, but he would have had to hurt her to pry her loose, she was gripping him so tightly. “Janya—”

  “Please, master, what have I done that you would do this to me?”

  “You have done nothing,” he assured her. “The decision is mine that I will no longer own slaves, any slaves. So do I now give you your freedom, rather than sell you to another.”

  The woman started crying in earnest then. Shanelle turned in disgust to leave.

  Falon was fast losing patience, so his voice was sharp when he commanded, “Shanelle, stay.”

  “Forget it,” she defied him. “I’m not watching another minute of this.”

  She slammed the door of the bedroom behind her, but she could still hear Janya wailing. She gritted her teeth and looked daggers at the bed that that woman had obviously spent many a night in. It was bad enough that Falon had owned slaves, but that he had used some of them to share sex with … Not once had she considered that. But she should have. Why wouldn’t he take that kind of advantage when ownership gave it to him? The poor females certainly had no choice in the matter, and if they were pretty … But he was freeing Janya— for her—giving up that little beauty—for her.

  She couldn’t handle two such powerful emotions conflicting and fighting for attention. The darker one took supremacy again, and she let out an explosive sound of outrage just as the door opened and Falon stepped slowly into the room.

  “You disobeyed me, woman,” he informed her, in case she wasn’t aware of it.

  She was and didn’t care. “You’re damned right I did! How dare you subject me to that? You should have known you’d be facing a weeping scene and taken steps to make sure I wouldn’t have to witness it.”

  “It was nec
essary that you see it done, for what was done was done for you, Shanelle.”

  “I know that! I’m not dense. And I am immensely grateful!” she shouted, sounding anything but. “But I also know she wasn’t denying the freedom you were offering, she was denying the loss of you, and I farden well don’t like that, Falon. How many more sex-slaves have you got around here that are going to beg you not to free them?”

  He started to grin, but then he laughed instead. Shanelle looked for something to throw at him, but there wasn’t a single thing in that room besides the bed and two tables on either side of it, both of which were empty. She reached down for her slipper.

  “Do not,” he warned, but he was still chuckling. “You will let me enjoy this while it lasts, for it is not likely to happen again.”

  “It’s not funny, dammit!”

  “I disagree. And is it fair that I find the same enjoyment you claim for yourself.”

  He wasn’t asking her, he was telling her, but that just got her madder, because she knew what he was referring to. “It’s not the same and you know it. You get upset over nothing. But try and deny that female who just cried all over you doesn’t have an intimate knowledge of your body—a body, by the way, that happens to belong to me now. Go ahead and deny it!”

  He raised a brow at her. “Do I understand you, woman? Your complaint is for what was done before I met you?”

  Shanelle flushed with angry color. She’d be a first-class jerk to say yes to that, yet half of what she was feeling was exactly for that—but fortunately, not all of it.

  “She just hugged the hell out of your leg, warrior! That was here and now, wasn’t it?”

  He grimaced. “Now do you have a valid complaint. Shall I cut off my leg?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Shall I cut off her arms?”

  “Falon!”

  “How, then, am I to make amends for the doing of another?” he asked.

  It was Shanelle’s turn to grimace. “All right,” she mumbled, “so it wasn’t exactly your fault, but I still don’t like it. When is she leaving?”