Determined Prince

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “You should choose me because I am leader of men, future king—” he said.

  “Ah, a king amongst men,” she repeated. “Anything else?”

  Kyran nodded. “I can provide wealth, power, and I have proven myself a warrior. I can protect you, hunt for you—”

  She tossed her head back and laughed, cutting him off. “You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you, cowpoke?”

  “Yes, I am, m’lady. My word of honor has never been questioned.”

  This statement only made her laugh harder. “Fine, cowman, fine. I believe you. Now enough talking. It’s overrated anyway. I want to dance.”

  The music changed and she swayed her hips seductively to the beat. Kyran didn’t move. He watched his future wife dance, confident that she was dancing for his pleasure alone. This was good. Things were accepted between them. They would be married. One night in the bridal tent, a little bonding, and it would be done.

  Kyran grinned. This was much better than trying to steal an unwilling woman while she kicked and screamed to be free. Maybe finding brides on Earth wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Eve grabbed her head and tried not to groan, refusing to open her eyes. Tequila shots with Paul had been a bad idea—a very bad idea. She felt like her eyeballs were about to explode out of her head. Part of her wished they would. Maybe then they wouldn’t hurt so much.

  Only on her birthday did she let herself go wild like that. Hey, once a year wasn’t bad when living in the bar scene.

  Her body was stiff and she suspected she was in need of a bath. She doubted she was up to finding one anytime soon. Though, curiously, she noticed there wasn’t the awful taste in her mouth—the cottonmouth sensation that came from too much partying. Had she brushed? Her mouth tasted like mint. Keeping her eyes closed, she decided it was a mystery best solved later. She would first try to fall back asleep. Just as she was on the edge of darkness once more, a sound penetrated her brain—birds singing. That’s when she noticed the smell of nature and the cool breeze brushing over her skin.

  Birds?

  Nature?

  In the city?

  What the…?

  Her eyes popped open. She was in a large red tent. There was a basin filled with water in the corner in front of her. Sitting up, she glanced around. Light streamed in from outside and a breeze came through a narrow flap. The tent was pyramid shaped and there was a large bed in the middle of the fur-covered ground.

  Eve tensed as she felt the bed shift. Biting her lip, she looked to the side to find an incredibly gorgeous man next to her. Black, shoulder-length hair was tousled over his broad shoulders and she couldn’t make out his face. He breathed softly in sleep, his back rising and falling in even tempo.

  His naked back. And naked arms. And naked hips and ass. And naked—everything.

  In light of her circumstances, Eve did the only thing she could think of. She screamed at the top of her lungs.

  The sexy man jerked, instantly on his feet as if ready to fight. She screamed again. He was huge. Bulging, oiled muscles covered every inch of him from thick neck to strong legs. There was nothing between her and his hard, bronzed flesh.

  Survival instinct kicked in, and she jumped off the bed. Bright blue eyes turned to her in confusion. Eve stiffened.

  Damn, but he was fucking hot.

  Something tickled her flesh, drawing her attention from the sexy, god-like man. She looked down. Her body was barely covered in a fine gauze and silk gown. The slinky material hugged tight over the hips and flared around the legs. The low neckline revealed a generous amount of cleavage. Her feet were bare.

  Who had changed her clothes? What was going on here? Surely Paul—

  “I did not get your name last night, my bride,” the man said. His voice sent chills over her.

  Eve’s eyes whipped to him. Then, seeing the tent flap, she yelled, “Paul!”

  “Paul?” the man repeated. “You are called Paul?”

  Eve didn’t wait for him to finish before she started running out the front flap of the tent. It was awkward trying to move while trying to conceal her barely covered body parts with her hands, but she managed to make it outside. A giant forest surrounded the tent. The trees towered high above the ground and yellow ferns spread out over the area.

  “Paul, you got me,” Eve screamed. “You win the prank war!”

  Spinning on her heels, she hit flush against the naked man’s chest. He tried to put his arms around her, but she shoved him hard. She screamed once more, loud and long, stumbling back as she swatted away his pursuit.

  “I assure you, my woman, there is no need to speak so loudly. I am able to hear you quite well.”

  Eve made a run for the forest, only to stop as a giant blue parrot-like bird dove for her head and squawked in her face. The high-pitched sound rivaled hers. She tumbled back with another loud cry of alarm.

  Two strong hands grabbed her from behind and spun her around before she could even think to catch herself. She took a deep breath, intent on screaming again, when suddenly the man kissed her. The feel of his firm, hot lips pressed tightly to hers shut her up.

  Moaning weakly, she didn’t pull away. Her arms fell to her sides and she let him hold her. Every thought swam out of her head, leaving her in a sea of sweet emotions. Slowly, he moved his lips against hers, a tender caress as he tested her response to him. He edged his tongue along her lips, thrusting just inside the delicate boundary. He tasted good, like mint, and he smelled even better.

  There was something familiar in the kiss, like she’d done it before. Had she been with this man the night before? Instantly, she knew they hadn’t had sex. She liked to flirt with the men, but she wasn’t one for a casual fling. Besides, if the huge erection pressing into her stomach was any indication, her body would definitely feel the remnants of anything he might have done to her.

  He glided his hands around to the small of her back, rubbing in circles as he pulled her tighter to his frame. Hot, solid flesh molded to her, forcing her softer skin to conform to its will. Instinctively, she opened her mouth, moaning in approval for him to deepen the kiss. He did, delving his tongue deeper, exploring every inch of her mouth like he couldn’t get enough. It felt so good. He tasted like a potent drug she wanted to drink more of. Eve couldn’t remember ever being kissed with so much passion, so much desire. She would have to be dead not to respond to it.

  She lifted up on her toes, deepening an already searing kiss as her lungs burned for air. Her hands traveled up his arms to his shoulders. He cupped her ass, lifting her off the ground with little effort. The strength in him scared and exhilarated her at the same time. Her heart beat hard and heavy, pumping her desire like a shockwave through her body. He crushed his erection against her lower stomach, making it clear what he wanted from her. Then something he’d said struck her. Did he call her his bride?

  Eve gasped, pulling back, fighting the drug-like daze that threatened her senses. Her limbs were numb with desire and heat. His bright blue eyes peered into hers. They were startling in their brilliant color. Part of her wanted to forget reason and keep going. Part of her wanted to beg him to take her right there on the strange fern-covered ground, there under the peculiar green-tinted sky.

  “Much better, m’lady,” the man said, nodding. He kept her body tight against his, holding her as if she were a feather. She detected every subtle movement of him. His firm lips brushed forward and she pulled back, just out of his reach. He nipped playfully at the air, and said, “I like that I can calm you in such a way.”

  “Did you…?” Eve swallowed nervously. “Did you call me…? Where are we? What happened last night? Didn’t you have sideburns?”

  “Do you really want to talk now?” His bright eyes were full of sexual meaning and promise. “Can we not talk after?”

  “After what?” Eve played dumb.

  “You have to ask?” He pressed lightly into her with his erection. “I’ve been waiting all n
ight for you. You fell asleep before we could finish what we started during your dance.”

  Eve pushed at his shoulders and took a deep breath. The memory of boldly making out with him on the dance floor filtered through her mind. She’d seen him from the stage, had found him later at the bar with his foreign money. She’d drummed up the nerve to talk to him, actually considered him a birthday present to herself. Had she really jumped on him like that while they were on the dance floor? Wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist? Had she really begged him to take her back to his hotel room? How much tequila did she drink? “I was dosed, wasn’t I? Damn it. It’s gotten to the point you can’t even go out anymore.”

  Even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. Her wanton actions had been one-hundred percent embarrassingly her. She pushed harder and he let her go. Her feet dropped on the ground and she stumbled.

  “Dosed?”

  Eve ignored his confusion. She stepped away from him, suddenly feeling chilled though the air was warm. It was really bright out and she glanced at the cloudless sky. Was she mistaken, or were there three suns overhead—two yellow and a very pretty blue one?

  “I’m on acid,” she stated, continuing away from the strange guy. She stared at him, relieved that he’d wrapped a linen piece of material around his waist to hide his morning nakedness. “I remember you. You’re the cowboy who wasn’t dancing. You came to my show with a bunch of your friends all dressed up. You must’ve slipped something into my drink. Oh, no. You’re a kidnapper, aren’t you?”

  “No, I am Draig. Don’t you remember me telling you this last night? My name is Kyran—”

  Eve held up her hand, moaning in protest. “Uh, no. I don’t want to hear it. The less I know about you the better. Just let me go home and I’ll forget I even saw you. Okay?”

  “You can’t go home. You don’t remember the portal? Coming to my planet?”

  “Planet?” she squeaked, breathing hard. She fanned her face. Did he just say planet?

  “Yes, Qurilixen. Do you need me to kiss you again? You look…” He shrugged, helpless.

  “Oh, oh, you’re crazy. You think you’re…alien…spaceship…” Eve couldn’t catch her breath as panic gripped her, “…crazy…probing…mental hospital…crazy…”

  “Hold, easy—”

  “Don’t you tell me to take it easy, you lunatic!” she yelled, still gasping for breath. “You kidnapped me and brought me out to the forest. You psycho, there are laws against this. You can’t just take people out of Cleveland when they want to be in Cleveland!”

  “Are you well?” He arched a brow.

  “Bloody hell! No, I’m not well. I’ve been abducted by a crazy lunatic who thinks he’s an alien. You’ve taken me against my will and made me see suns.”

  At that, he actually looked upset. “No, I told you I chose you and you accepted.”

  “I accepted that you were from Quasar and agreed to be beamed to your planet? Not bloody likely! I don’t care how much tequila I drank.”

  “Yes, though it’s called Qurilixen, not Quasar.”

  “Wonderful. You’re an alien. Why not?” Eve wondered if she was insane. “I’m going to be one of those crazies talking about probing and tracking implants while making aluminum foil suits.”

  “I do not consider myself an alien,” he said thoughtfully. “However, I do suppose from you point of view that is technically correct, though we did not fly through space to get here. And my people did originate on your planet many, many years ago.”

  “Not an alien. Then what are you, portal man?”

  “A dragonshifter.” He looked serious. “What is with all this bloody you speak of? I don’t understand the phrase.”

  “I picked it up from a British guitarist who let me crash on her couch after…argh. Quit trying to change the subject!” He didn’t look pleased by her tone. Eve didn’t care. She wasn’t pleased either, being in the middle of the woods with a nutcase. “You took me against my will. Now I demand you tell me how to get home. Right now!”

  She stomped her foot for effect. He didn’t look too impressed by the action as he adjusted the material at his waist. The man hardly acted like he wanted to hurt her. In fact, he just looked horny and confused.

  “You dare to question my honor? I am Kyran of the Draig. No one has ever dared to question my honor.” He took a deep, harsh breath. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides in anger. Between his teeth, he growled, “You said, fine, cowboy, fine. I believe you. Now enough talking. It’s overrated anyway. I want to dance.”

  “What? From that you got, take me to your alien planet, you big stud?” She shook from head to toe. “Just stay away from me. I’m warning you.”

  “Warning me of what?” He glanced around the forest. “There is nothing here to be afraid of.”

  “Just stay back!”

  “Back where?”

  “Stop that!”

  “Stop what?”

  “Shut up! Just stay back! Don’t move.” Eve glanced around. Where should she go? All she saw was trees and his giant red, pyramid tent. The only sound was the flapping of the top blue banner whipping on the breeze. It had a silver dragon in the middle of it—very medieval in design. “Are you an actor? Did someone pay you to do this? Did Paul…?”

  Damn, why did he have to be so attractive? It made it really hard to concentrate—especially when he had kissed her all soft and tender like he had.

  What the hell was wrong with her? Who cared if the crazy man looked good naked? She kept waiting for a sign he meant to harm her but didn’t find one. There was arrogance in his expression, but no malice.

  “Pay me to marry you?” Kyran tilted his head, looking adorably confused. “No, I accepted no dowry—”

  “Ah.” Eve tried to remain calm, but it was hard. There were three freaking suns over her head. “Married? Did you just say married?”

  “Yes, we are married. Last night, when you stayed with me in my tent.”

  “I passed out. I didn’t technically stay anywhere.”

  “You are my princess,” he said, his tone harder than before. His face and stance dared her to deny it.

  “Princess? Oh, that’s great. Princess Eve and Prince Kyran. All right then. Whatever. You win. I’m a princess and we’re on your home planet. Now where is this portal at? I have a gig tonight. I promise to be home by dinner, darling.” Eve tried to smile, but she knew the expression was strained. Okay, time to ditch Mr. Crazypants. Only where was she going to go? She knew nothing about wilderness survival. Nearing her breaking point, she mumbled, “That’s it. I’ve gone mad. That nun told me my party lifestyle would catch up with me and it has. I’m mental. You’re not real. That tent’s not real. Nothing’s real.”

  “Are you—”

  “No, no, I don’t need you to kiss me again. Once was enough, trust me.” Eve turned her back on him and tried to walk away. Seeing a small gathering, she stopped. “Oh, great. There are more of you.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  K yran watched his bride in puzzlement. She was acting stranger than the night before. What was wrong with her? Last night she’d seemed all into him, and now she was screaming that awful noise at every turn. He really hoped she didn’t continue to do so every morning. His ears would never grow used to it. At first, he’d thought it was simply an Earth custom, until he’d seen the panic on her face.

  His bride was scared. For that he was sorry. Though kissing her had seemed to calm her a great deal. Her heart had sped, but with a different beat than before. If a kiss was all it took, he’d gladly keep her the most placated of maids.

  He looked over her tight backside in the traditional gown of the Draig people. The waist-wrap he wore and her gown were merely for the wedding ceremony. Kyran would be the first to admit that his wedding had been anything but traditional. However, dressing his bride in her wedding clothes had been a particular treat. It had afforded him a great view of what was to be his to enjoy.

  He
r breasts were perfect handfuls, so soft with large dark nipples that puckered under the slightest touch—not that he’d touched her more than necessary when she was sleeping. She’d been awake when she’d taken off her clothes, moaning softly for more kisses.

  He’d been pleased to discover the hair between her thighs didn’t look to be blue—though he wasn’t completely positive as he hadn’t removed the small article of clothing covering her hips. She’d fallen asleep naked and so he’d dressed her. It had been hard though, especially after watching her dance for him at the club—as they called the noisy place he’d found her in. It was a fitting name since the sounds coming from the music boxes had pounded him in the head like an invisible club.

  Seeing his parents gathered with Finn and the two Var princes along the edge of the forest, he held up his hand. The king and queen looked worried. It was no wonder, with his bride screaming like she was.

  His mother, Queen Galina, wore a two-layer purple gown. The fitted undertunic was a light cream color. The dark purple overtunic’s sleeves were long, belling around the elbows, and the snug waist fanned into a long skirt. Silver embroidery edged the gown in an intricate Qurilixian pattern, and on the bodice, in the center of the chest, was their family emblem of the dragon.

  Though Kyran liked the outfit his wife wore very much, part of him desired to see her dressed as a fine lady—befitting her new station. His mother had already agreed to help his bride with her wardrobe and anything else she might require.

  A band of gold wrapped around his mother’s head. She only wore the crown for ceremonies, and today was considered one of the most blessed for their people. It was his first day of being mated—the first of many days if he would be so favored by the gods.

  His father, King Severin, and Finn wore a simpler garment. His brother was in dark blue and the king in purple to match the queen. They had tunics with the same silver-embroidered edges and a larger patch on the center of their chests. The tunic was more of a long shirt that split at the sides than an actual dress. The two Var princes were clothed as Ivar had been the night before—in breeches and shirts with cross laces down the center of their chests. The styles difference had a lot to do with how the races shifted. Draigs could shift and remained clothed. The Var could shift partially into a man-cat or completely into full cats. Catshifters needed to part with their clothing at a moment’s notice. The Draig tended to be more reserved than their beastly counterparts.