“No way.” Adopting a temptress smile, she glided her fingers over his. With a squeeze, she dragged their linked hands higher on her thigh.
His yummy lips parted on a ragged breath. “Thank the gods.” He reluctantly slid his hand free and grabbed the wheel.
The Riato pulled from the curb with a low purr. On the dashboard, the blinking fiber optic lights monitoring transit conditions flashed green, and Dashael zipped into the nearest lane. He handled the bullet-shaped vehicle with supreme confidence, hugging the tight curves of the aerial freeway like a professional racer.
“My house is just outside Helias limits.”
Mara tore her attention from the blurred cityscape outside the window. “You know, I never did catch your name.” She prayed he didn’t find her blunder odd. Jeez, what moron didn’t demand the name of the individual she was supposedly about to have wild, uninhibited sex with?
“Dashael Rhyder.” He grinned, his teeth flashing white against his bronzed skin. “But please, call me Dash.”
Surprise flickered over her. Wow, he’d used his real name. She batted away the guilt threatening to settle in her chest. Get a grip. It’s not as if he’s entrusting you with some big, classified secret.
Time to put her head back into the game. “Tell me, Dash…” She stroked her fingers over the fine grain of the leather console. “What do you do for a living that you can afford a one hundred and fifty merca vehicle?”
He chuckled. “You’re a student of the arts and Riato fair-market value. A woman after my own heart.” His hand dropped to the shifter and punched the gear higher, rocketing them through a heart-stopping spiral that made Mara grit her teeth and white-knuckle her safety harness. “But back to your question. I acquire things people pay a hefty fee to possess.”
“You mean you’re a property broker?”
An enigmatic smile crooked his mouth. “More or less.”
How could he remain cool? He just freely admitted he stole for a living. Okay, maybe the jump from property broker to thief was sketchy at best, but close enough.
“And you? Any career beyond bewitching men’s hearts?”
“Nope.” Winding a curl around her finger, she tossed him a saucy smile. “Bewitchery is in high demand these days.”
His husky laugh rang out as he exited the freeway. Mara’s heart thudded when he took a quick right and they left the bustle of the city behind.
Holy crap, where exactly is his house? She peered out the Riato’s glass roof, her anxiety escalating. Out in this backwoods, the stars received no competition from Helias’s garish urban lights and glowed like fairy dust scattered in the twilight. “You weren’t lying about residing beyond the city limits.” She tugged the satchel against her side. Her racing pulse calmed with the reminder of the contents tucked inside it. “Still, I wasn’t expecting the sticks.”
“We’re less than two minutes away, promise.”
He kept his word and pulled into a deeply forested driveway a minute and a half later. Up ahead, a sprawling log and stone house nestled in a copse of spruce and firs.
Apparently thievery paid very well.
“It’s beautiful.”
Dash’s gorgeous face lit with pleasure. “I’m glad you think so.” His attention drifted to the swaying pines. “The landscape here reminds me of Mer’daca, my homeland—rugged and untamed.”
“What made you leave Mer’daca in the first place?” It was the only information missing from his thick file.
A nerve ticced in his jaw. “Circumstances beyond my control.” Before she could question him further, he unlocked the hatch and the doors swung upward. After unclipping his safety harness, he strode to her side and helped her from the vehicle. She snatched her satchel from the seat before the doors snicked shut.
“Watch your step,” he said, pressing a palm against her waist when her heel caught between cracks in the slag stone.
Hidden path lights blinked on when they approached the wide front porch. Dash pushed aside the antler-like foliage of a stag fern sprouting from the porch’s center support beam, revealing a keypad. He punched in a code and the house’s massive oak door swung inward. A cozy glow spilled across the threshold.
Mara swore the incessant thudding of her heart drowned out the trills and chirps of the resident firewing crickets. For the sake of Gideon, her brother, she wouldn’t chicken out. Her jittery nerves were inconsequential compared to the daily cruelty he must suffer inside Zalan’s fairy prison.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside and more lamps clicked on. She stopped and surveyed her surroundings. Centered in the room, weathered leather couches grouped around a circular stone fireplace. Dash snapped his fingers and fire instantly crackled in the pit’s grate.
“You must be handy on a camping trip.”
Dash laughed before stripping from his jacket. She stared at the interesting ripple of muscles beneath his white linen shirt. He tossed the jacket over a nearby armchair. “Hungry? I’ve some excellent filet in the cooler.”
Her stomach flipped at the thought of food. She shook her head. “Not unless you want some.”
The firelight reflected in his dark eyes. “It’s not steak I’m hungry for.”
Okay then. Swallowing past a lump of apprehension, she fumbled with the satchel, needing its reassuring weight. Dash noticed her awkward motion and stepped towards her.
“Here,” he said, holding out his hand. “Let me put that somewhere for you.”
She shifted the bag behind her. “No.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t steal it.” His lips curled in a half smile.
Very funny. “Um…there are a few things in here I’ll need later.”
“Really?”
Mara realized there’d be no deflecting his curiosity this time. With a sigh, she hauled the satchel forward and unzipped it. She hooked a finger around the object settled on top and pulled it out.
Dash’s jaw went slack. “That what I think it is?”
She lifted the handcuffs and eyed them. Giving her finger a little twirl, she nodded. “Yep, believe so.”
Chapter Two
The breath expelled from Dash’s lungs in a whoosh. “Sweet goddess.”
Wariness stole across Mara’s face. He groaned, battling the urge to bite his cursed quick tongue. Did she worry he’d ridicule her desires? Mentally head-slapping himself for his lack of gentlemanly tact, he strode to Mara and cupped her chin. His thumb brushed beneath the little dip in her bottom lip, tempting him, but first he needed to ease her mind.
“Don’t fear shocking me. It’s impossible. Besides, whatever you have in mind, I’m more than game.” He punctuated the fact by sliding his mouth over hers. With some work, he coaxed her tongue into play.
“Delicious,” he whispered, nibbling along the sweet curve of her lips. His mouth lowered, discovered her neck’s graceful slope. Her breathing sped up. Ah, he’d found a sensitive spot. Murmuring in appreciation, he suckled her there, laving her skin. His hands glided along her shoulders. He brushed the sides of her breasts and she slumped into him. The handcuffs clattered to the hardwood floor, their metallic ring jostling them from their sensual reverie.
“Damn it.” Mara ducked and scrabbled for the handcuffs.
He hunkered next to her. Looking to halt the frantic motion of her hands, he cupped her chin again, tilting it until she revealed the vexation in her eyes. “Don’t worry, it’s just a floor. Far worse punishment has been thrown its way.” He gave her a teasing grin. “Though your handcuffs win top prize as the most interesting.”
The flush in her cheeks deepened. “You must think I’m a clumsy oaf.”
“No, I think you’re beautiful…” his fingers traveled down her neck and grazed the delicate ridge of her collarbone, “…sexy…” he stroked the vee between her breasts, watching them rise and fall with the sharp intake of her breath, “…and far too overdressed.”
He reached for the leather bustier’s center hook. She jumped and her elbow we
nt flying into his chin. Grunting, he thudded onto his ass.
“Oh gods,” Mara groaned, leaning over him. “I’m worse than clumsy—I’m a menace.”
He shook his head, trying to clear the spinning stars. “Not at all.”
Well, maybe a little. To be on the safe side, they should probably stick to the missionary position. Much as he loved the sight of a woman riding him, he didn’t need her falling off and breaking her neck.
Pushing to his feet, he smiled and extended a hand. “Come, I’ll show you the rest of the house.”
After the briefest hesitation, she tucked her hand in his. The kitchen received a cursory walkthrough. She oohed and ahhed over the original Lia Mavrick watercolors and Stellic bronzes scattered between the various guestrooms. Outside the den, she stopped and ran her fingers over the nubby texture of the vessel holding a freeform arrangement of wild grasses.
“Is this a Rucca pod?”
He smiled at the wonderment in her voice. Here he possessed a houseful of priceless art and antiques, and a nut husk thrilled her most. Females were such strange, delightful creatures. “I picked it up during my last trip to Frittona.” Along with a square cut, ten-carat ruby that fetched a handsome finder’s fee.
“I’ve never seen one so big.” She stooped and surveyed the pod. Her skirt lifted, granting him a mouth-watering peep show.
Dash’s jaw dropped. Sweet goddess, she is wearing pink panties.
Mara glanced over her shoulder. He forced his attention from her curvaceous rear, but apparently not fast enough. Giving the hem of her skirt a firm tug, she scrambled to her feet. “Where next?”
Delirious with the need to peel those pink panties off, he led her into the master bedroom. He followed her stare to the massive canopy bed centered in the room.
“Perfect,” she blurted.
Couldn’t have said it better. Fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, he stepped towards her. She swiveled on her heel and strode to the bed, plunking her bag near her feet. Her handcuffs reappeared and circled the nearest pine post with a decisive click.
Dash’s lust exploded. Impatient with his shirt, he yanked. Hard. The buttons popped free and bounced along the wood floor with a plink-plink-plink. Mara turned, her wide-eyed stare tracking the rolling path of the buttons.
Dropping his ripped shirt, he advanced, kicking off his dress shoes before unbuttoning his trousers with shaking fingers. He was too far gone, too primed, to take things slow. Three weeks without sex—what the hell had he been thinking?
“Dash?”
The uncertainty wobbling her voice knifed through his single-minded focus…slightly. He forced a strained grin. “Perhaps you’d best remove your own clothing.”
She blinked before releasing a slow breath. “Okay.”
Her hand snaked towards the miniskirt’s waistband. The sex-starved beast in him snapped its leash. Plowing his hands through Mara’s hair, he claimed her mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss.
The taste of her inflamed his senses. He untangled one hand from her hair and cupped her breast, growling in frustration when his fingers met leather rather than soft skin. She gasped and tumbled sideways, taking him with her. They knocked into the post, rattling the handcuffs. Before he regained his balance, she grabbed his wrist and secured it inside the dangling cuff. Not the way he’d expected things to roll, but it might prove interesting.
Leaving him slumped on the bed, she ducked to the floor. He watched her wiggling rear end and groaned. “Sher ’tian, you’re killing me.”
She fumbled through her bag before returning to him. The hem of her miniskirt rasped against his thighs and he reached for her with his free hand. Ignoring him, she climbed onto the bed and straddled his lap. Lust hazed his vision. He lowered his head towards her breasts, fully intent on ripping her bustier open with his teeth if need be.
Cold metal locked around his neck with an ominous clank. The sound—along with the chill biting into his flesh—managed to edge past the fog clouding his brain. Disoriented, he glanced down. Purple lights flashed across the base of the bizarre collar encircling his neck.
Mara pushed off his lap and he frowned up at her.
“What is this?”
A strange expression crossed her face—one bordering on pity. He didn’t like it at all. “Mara?”
“I’m sorry…truly. Please, just don’t make any sudden—”
Agitated, he lurched at her. An electrical shock zinged his neck. “Son of a bitch,” he roared, jerking back.
Mara winced before finishing her sentence. “—movements.”
Mara listened to the sharp breaths whistling from Dash’s nose. Guilt tore at her chest sharper than an emaris hawk’s talon. Damn it, she’d warned Nalia the collar needed tweaking. But without someone wearing the device, she couldn’t prove it. And go figure, no one volunteered to test it out.
She dug in the bag for the remote controller device. Locating the mode button, she depressed it several times. “Okay, this should do it. Try moving towards me.”
Dash’s glare threatened to rip right through her. “Got a better idea. Take this damn thing off me.”
“I can’t.”
“Babe, whatever kink you’ve got in mind…it’s not my bag.” Moving with exaggerated caution, Dash settled on the bed’s edge. The mattress creaked beneath his weight. “Go find yourself a Vorhian. I hear they’re into pain.”
He thought the collar was some kind of weird sex toy. Who thinks like that? She looked up at the individual mirrored tiles imbedded in the canopy’s overhead frame. Okay, that was a dumb question.
“Now’s probably a good time to clear something up.” She took a deep breath and expelled it in a slow fizzle. “I’m not here for sex.”
Dash’s watchful golden eyes narrowed to slits. A wary stillness washed over him. “No?”
She shook her head.
“Mind telling me why the hell you are here then?”
No point beating around the bush. “To fetch you.”
“What am I—a damn stick?” The muscles in his massive shoulders flexed when he stretched his free arm behind him.
She swallowed hard. Gods, who could concentrate with all that sleek, bronzed skin within arm’s reach? “The person who sent me didn’t feel confident you’d come of your own free will.”
“Who sent you?” A thread of danger twined through his steely demand.
“Queen Nalia of Zalan.”
He blinked, evidently caught off guard. “Why the hell is royalty after me? I haven’t done anything to them…lately.”
Mara cleared her throat before staring at the floor. Circling the pointed toe of her high heel, she traced the path of the wood grain beneath her feet. Okay, enough stalling. “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her.”
“Believe me, I will.”
She returned her attention to Dash and a prickle of alarm pinched the back of her neck. He was livid—no question about it. The throbbing vein in his brow appeared downright painful.
Keeping him fixed in her sight, she leaned down and dropped the remote controller into the satchel. His fingers drummed a frantic tattoo against the mattress. When she realized what he was up to, she shook her head. “Don’t waste your time. The collar’s blocking your magic.”
Murder and all manner of painful vengeance flashed across his face. A sliver of fear trilled up her spine. Good thing the handcuffs and collar secured him.
He twisted his manacled wrist and cursed when it remained uncooperative. “Might be difficult delivering me to your boss with this bed attached to my arm.”
Like she’d fall for that obvious ploy. “The queen’s driver is on his way. Your collar’s tracking chip sent him our coordinates when I switched it on.”
His body stilled again—a mass of tightly bundled fury. Their stares waged a silent battle. Her nerves dancing a wild jig, she wet her lips, hoping like hell he’d take her next threat to heart. “By the way, her driver is built like a Foini bull and mean as one too.”
He cocked one dark eyebrow in arrogant disregard. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“I’m just saying it wouldn’t be wise messing with him…or me.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve no desire to mess around with a Foini bull. You, on the other hand…” he scoped her body with a deliberate, snail-like pace, “…would be fun wrestling to the floor.”
“Not happening,” she said, her tone flat as the marsh plains outside of Zalan.
“Never say never.” Eyes glittering with carnal intent, his lips spread into a hard, feral smile. “I’ve tricks up my sleeve that’d make you spread your legs as easy as a Weliker bitch hound in heat.”
She decided to ignore his vile crudeness rather than stray deeper into his crafty head games. Picking up the satchel, she strode towards the door.
“Where the hell are you going?”
Planting a hand on the doorframe, she coolly returned his outraged stare. “Outside to wait for Ronan.”
“What the bloody hell am I supposed to do shackled here?”
She gave him a saccharine smile. “You’ve a free hand. Be creative.”
~ * ~
Don’t invite a Maddoc fae’s touch. They’ll steal your sanity. Her brother’s voice a phantom whisper inside her head, Mara leaned against one of the porch’s peeled log support beams and stared at the stars overhead. She didn’t know about sanity, but they stole hearts. And left them to wither and die in the blackest hour of the soul.
Nalia’s silver aerocoach floated down the drive, its luminescent headlights slashing the darkness and Mara’s painful memories.
“About damn time,” Mara muttered, pushing from the porch. She trotted down the steps and waited until Ronan maneuvered the bulky vehicle onto the ground. Compared to Dash’s sleek Riato, the aerocoach resembled an oversized meat locker.
The tinted rear window rolled down and Piper flew out. “Where is he?”
Mara found it impossible to corral her impatience. “In the kitchen, making us sandwiches for the road. Jeez, where do you think he’s at?” The long night was taking its toll. Usually Piper didn’t get on her nerves more than the standard twenty times a day.
Lover Enslaved: Thieves of Aurion, Book 1 Page 2
