Liberation Origins: SciFi Romance (Robotics Faction - Origins Series Book 1)

by Wendy Lynn Clark

  “An engine like this is as complex as a living organism,” he told her, leaning over from the copilot’s seat to point out the dials and controls. “Treat it right, and it’ll give you the ride of your life. Disrespect it, and you’ll end up smeared across the pavement.”

  The sheer power of the machine shook beneath her white-knuckle grip. She took a deep breath and let it out.

  “Ease on the throttle,” he said.

  She lifted one hand from the shaking wheel and put it on the throttle.

  “Emprezia.”

  She jerked. “Yes?”

  His smile was so warm and delicious. She wanted to jump him in the copilot’s seat. Her body thrummed as hot as the engine.

  “Have fun.”

  She laughed at his crazy instructions, and at herself for doing this, and then she pushed the throttle and screamed the whole way through the obstacle course.

  But that was okay because the engine was louder.

  When they got back, she felt loose and easy, like her whole body had been turned inside out. She picked up the reports, threw them at the wall, and met Domingo for drinks and dinner.

  Kaolin stood at the private bar. He looked like sex. Her feet directed her toward him automatically.

  “Emprezia.” Domingo waved to her from his palatial couches.

  Right. Business.

  She pivoted and sprawled in his indicated seat, crossing her legs so the tight slit of her red dress would reveal her thigh. Domingo ordered her drink without comment. Kaolin’s eyes were glued to her.

  “Are you ready to set a date?” she asked.

  The powerful man grimaced. “I hear you had a good day with my pilot.”

  “Wonderful,” she said. “Very relaxing. It was your idea, wasn’t it? Thanks for suggesting it.”

  Because everything that happened in his household was, most likely, his idea. Emprezia was daring to swim with the sharks. Domingo knew every trick to scent the water with blood.

  “Yes.” Domingo cleared his throat. “I’ve considered your proposal. I’m willing to marry you for six months.”

  She leaned forward. “That’s shorter than a genetic heir contract.”

  “You’ll have to be expedient if you intend to use my name to husband-hunt in a higher strata of society.”

  “Domingo, I would never insult you by remarrying so quickly after our contract terminated. I am not like my cousin, who married days after your contract ended.”

  “Weeks,” he said, testy. “And no, you are not like Valorious. You already have a son.”

  She tightened. “And?”

  “You must miss him.”

  How would he know? Kaolin remained at the bar, turned away from them, his rough hands around a glass.

  She had her spies. Domingo had his. Every moment she spent with Kaolin fed information directly into Domingo’s ears.

  She crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat. “So?”

  “I have a close relationship with my genetic heir.” He swirled his wine glass. “Maybe we can work out a deal. A short marriage in exchange for visitation rights for your son.”

  Her heart squeezed. She could see her son.

  “No deal.” She tightened her arms. “A marriage as long as it needs to be in exchange for the previously negotiated ports and rubilum. What do I care about a child from a completed contract? There’s no benefit.”

  Domingo eyed her. Humanity seemed to warm him for a moment. “There’s no negotiating with the heart.”

  Dammit. He was playing with her. Treating her like the lower-class woman he could easily manipulate.

  “I don’t need it.” She stood. “Contact me when you want to talk business.”

  She stormed out.

  Kaolin caught her in the hall. “Wait.”

  She ran into him, pushing through the gentle arms that held her firmly. “It’s your fault. You told him.”

  “You want to see your son.” He held her, his eyes burning with fierce fire. “Now you can see him.”

  She pushed against him. Fighting herself, half-heartedly, while the rest of her melted in his embrace. He smelled like alcohol and certainty. Wild and solid, crazy and faithful.

  She wanted him, and she wanted her son, and she wanted to rule the universe so that she could keep them both safe from her family’s enemies.

  “You can just have what you want,” Kaolin said. “Just have it and be happy.”

  “At what cost?” she whispered.

  He had no answer.

  She forced herself to step back, out of his embrace. “Excuse me.”

  “Emprezia.”

  She stopped and looked back at his lone figure. “Yes?”

  “You know what happens if you don’t focus on business. You calculated the cost. But what about on the other side? You keep this up and your son grows a year older. You lose more time. He never gets to know you. What’s that cost?”

  Pain ached in her chest. She clenched the fabric at her chest.

  “You don’t understand.” Her throat ached like she’d inhaled poison gas. “I don’t have a choice.”

  “Don’t you?” He crossed the distance and pulled her too willingly into his warm, comforting, leather-clad arms again. “Most people can’t even talk to Dom. You’re staying in his house. He’s already agreed to marry you. Now you can see your son. If it were up to me, you’d get to be with him all the time. You have choices.”

  Kaolin would let her keep Aris. Domingo, despite his offer, would never truly take on the risk of letting Aris visit. Not as a vulnerable child, no matter what he said. And if he did, she’d be forced to send him back after a short period.

  She shook her head. If she saw her son, like if she kissed Kaolin, nothing would be the same. She wouldn’t let either of them go.

  “Choose happiness,” Kaolin said.

  She pushed him back. “You don’t understand!” And then, before she threw herself back into his arms and sobbed on his shoulder and clung to him, she turned on her heel and stormed to the safety of her rooms.

  He let her go.

  Back in her rooms, she faced herself in the mirror. What the hell was happening to her? When she left home with the rubilum and an ultimatum, everything had been so clear.

  Now she was spending nights on ocean buoys in the arms of sexy pilots, and further ignoring her work to fritter away whole days. Was she having a mid-century crisis?

  Her personal comm chimed.

  She neatened her appearance and answered.

  It was her pilot.

  “We are nearly repaired,” he said. “The Corleons overtook your brother’s convoy and are holding it for ransom. Your mother has requested a status report.”

  Dammit.

  “Tell her I have nearly completed negotiations. We will sign the engagement before the centennial celebration or I will begin talks with the Laredos.”

  “Very good.”

  “Send out a preliminary greeting to Carture Laredo. See if he accepts an invitation to meet.”

  “It will be done.”

  She signed off and picked up her thrown reports.

  Her brother, Sirus, commanded a mercenary unit. They were escorting the convoys, because in contested space, the Corleons couldn’t be brought to justice before the family enforcers. Sirus could handle any forces.

  She hoped.

  If Sirus had gone into politics, then she wouldn’t have to marry. He could marry someone important instead. No, the fortunes of her family all fell down on her shoulders.

  Happiness had nothing to do with it.

  Chapter Seven

  The following day was Domingo’s private party.

  Emprezia tucked her dark hair into her most subdued headdress—a corkscrew of fake hair braids haloing her head, adorned with multi-color pearls and lush orchids—and smoothed her shimmering vine-like dress. Iridescent scales captured the light and reflected myriad shapes.

  Domingo would like it. With his eye for natural shades and fibers, this
dress perfumed the air with its delicate, exotic nature.

  Kaolin, perhaps, would also notice—

  No. Her appearance was groomed for her future husband. He mattered.

  The man who tempted her heart and called to her soul did not.

  She snapped her cases closed and mentally reviewed the list of guests.

  Emprezia needed to push Kaolin from her mind and focus all of her attention on this job.

  Which now also apparently included her son.

  Her stomach squeezed.

  Dammit.

  She took a deep breath, focused on the goal. Protect her convoys, increase her family’s wealth and power, and stop the encroaching Corleons.

  The cost of this goal was marriage to Domingo. She had already promised to pay. Her emotions meant nothing. She would strip them from her mind now, immediately, and never feel them ever again.

  Thus resolved, Emprezia exited her room.

  Kaolin was waiting for her.

  Her heart thumped hard.

  He filled the slim gray suit. Sleeveless silk revealed his hard, sculpted biceps. All she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and beg him to race her away.

  She forced a neutral smile. “Are you my escort?”

  “To the gardens only.”

  How disappointing. “I can walk the flight of steps there by myself, thank you.”

  “Can’t be too careful.” He rose from the sculpted wood lounge seat and his eyes feasted on her outfit. “You look amazing.”

  He thought she looked good.

  Her traitorous heart thumped again.

  “Better than my big dress?” she heard herself asking.

  Was she fishing for compliments?

  “More approachable.”

  She touched the back of her neck, to stroke and style her hair, and caught herself. She was not grooming herself in front of this problematic, desirable, sexy man.

  He saw the aborted gesture and followed it to its natural conclusion. “One of your flowers is loose.”

  “What?”

  “Just behind your ear there.”

  “No.”

  “A little to the left.”

  She felt the dangling blossom. How was it possible? She never made an error where appearances were concerned. It was the most basic step in any high-pressure negotiation.

  She flushed and took a constricted step backward. “Ah, I’ll be… um, right—”

  He moved around to her back, cutting off her escape. “You’re already late.”

  “Yes, I’m aware. That is…um….”

  Like the flower in her hair, she came undone around Kaolin. Everything, from her heart to her body, tried to spring free from the controls she usually kept everything tight under.

  “Wait.” A gentle prickle at the base of her skull, soft as a butterfly, evoked ticklish curls of desire deep in her belly.

  “I must be nervous,” she said, to make some sort of conversation.

  “Big night,” he sympathized.

  “Yes.”

  Never had she felt so conscious of a man at her backside. He stood only inches away. The subtle heat of his broad chest radiated against her back, his strong hands moved with gentle rhythm, and if she should fall back, she would be safely caught in his strong, sexy arms.

  “Um.” She forced her mind away from those dangerous thoughts. “How did you become such good friends with Domingo?”

  “Me?” He laughed softly, a delicious sound that teased her more than the fingers tantalizing her hair. “I’m fearless. I talk with anyone. Even a woman so hot she makes my thoughts turn to steam.”

  “Oh.” Why that pleased her, she didn’t want to consider. “You didn’t approach him for the race entry fee and cruiser?”

  Kaolin dropped silent for a beat. The sensations beneath his clever fingers slowed.

  Dammit, dammit. Speaking her mind directly to Kaolin felt too right. She licked her lips to change the subject.

  “Not on purpose,” he answered first. “I never hid it either. I could always save it up another way. His friendship means more than any entry fee.”

  “Oh,” she said again, stupidly. Both grateful and irritated at his honesty. “Is there anyone you value more than Domingo?”

  “My family, my home world friends, and….”

  “And?”

  He smiled and didn’t answer. “Finished.”

  No need to obsess over the smile, repeating it over and over in her brain. It held no benefit.

  It made her happy, her mind said, so that was good enough.

  Such a stupid, pointless, uncontrollable desire filled her with confusion and tension.

  “You are nervous,” he said, noting she hadn’t stepped away when he finished reattaching her loose blossom. “Here.”

  A thick lock of her hair was tugged and then pulled, firmly and insistently, in a circular motion.

  It felt too, too delicious.

  She eased away from the dangerously tasty touch. “My hair is styled.”

  “Don’t worry.” He slid his fingers into her scalp, encircling the next lock of hair, and tugging. “I’ll be gentle.”

  She was about to protest again, when sparkling shivers tingled and welled up in her body and danced across her skin. Her protest turned into a quiet gasp.

  Had hair pulling always felt this incredible?

  Even though she knew she shouldn’t, she relaxed into the delicious drug of his expert manipulation. Every tug and pull made the sparkles dance on her skin. Like scratching an itch she didn’t know she had, and filling the rest of her scalp with a craving for the same. The places he touched felt different, more alive.

  “Good?” he asked, his voice soft in the quiet lounge.

  She struggled to hold herself upright. “Amazing.”

  “Good.”

  She bit back her moan. He pleasured her in a way she didn’t know possible, with both hands firmly wrapped in her hair beneath the heavy headdress. His forearms rested against her shoulder blades. The inches closed. She had moved, or he had. His powerful thighs brushed her derriere.

  She sensitized to every brush. His muscles shifted beneath his tailored suit, powerful and hard. His masculine scent curled in her nose, heady and seductive. An ache started deep in her center. She wanted him, and she strained to feel his long, hard length beneath the fabric.

  Her soft bottom brushed his thighs again.

  His breath hissed between his teeth. He renewed his efforts at her scalp massage, drawing her inescapably under his spell.

  She wanted to turn in his arms and tug his lower lip with her teeth. She wanted to strip him down to his skin and run her hands over every inch of his body. She wanted to push him down on the lounge bench, wrap her legs around his waist, and plunge him deep into her, rubbing her bare breasts against his hard chest and riding him until they both cried out.

  All because of a little hair pulling.

  This couldn’t go on. This couldn’t go on. This couldn’t go on.

  The party destined to determine her future would end while she lost all control in a public lounge in her fiancé’s house.

  She stepped forward, ending the madness before she could change her mind.

  His hands were tangled. He made a noise. “Wait. Wait, wait.”

  She stilled to keep from ruining her hair. Neither of them spoke for a long, charged moment.

  Finally, she cleared her throat. “Thank you. I feel less nervous now.”

  “Good.”

  His voice sounded as rough as she felt. He carefully disentangled himself.

  She inspected her appearance in a lounge mirror. Flushed, but otherwise presentable.

  He checked his wrist chrono. “We better head down.”

  She reached his side. He gestured for her to proceed him to the gardens. Her heart floated so high she was glad for the task or she might well follow him off the end of the world if he asked her.

  Fuck.

  His cock pulsed with desire. Throbbed with i
t.

  Emprezia’s ass, undulating in the skin-tight dress, begged to rub against his hard cock. Her lithe body pleaded to be pressed against his, and her intoxicating scent of lilies and jasmine curled like tendrils around his nose and yanked him closer with every desperate breath.

  Even now, following her down the halls of the castle to the tea garden, he had to force his mind off her somehow. Because he couldn’t force his eyes off.

  A hair massage would remove some of the anxiety he saw in her throughout the days as she pretended to banter with Domingo and then stared pensively into shadows whenever his friend took attention off her.

  Better a hair massage than the full body, full contact massage he wanted to give. Sculpting her soft, feminine curves beneath his rough hands, pleasing her into giving little evocative moans, getting lost in her sweet, hot flesh.

  A hair massage would be safe. Almost no contact by comparison.

  Ha.

  Another few moments and he would have given in to his fantasies. Trailed soft fingers down her sinuous body, curled a hand around the swell of her gently rounded breast, tasted her neck with his tongue.

  Damn that she had stepped forward and ended it.

  And thank the stars she had.

  Because she was his friend’s fiancée, and he was a dick for fantasizing.

  Especially since Domingo seemed to like her so well. She was the first woman since Valorious that he gave the time of day.

  At the entrance to the garden, she stopped. “Do you see my future husband?”

  Right. Domingo’s side was where she belonged.

  His hand curled into a fist. “Let’s see….”

  Her breath caught.

  He turned to see what she saw.

  Evening light shone, softly silver, on her wide eyes and delicately parted lips. She was so beautiful his chest ached.

  He swallowed. “Are you okay?”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said softly.

  The entrance at the top of the hill, where they stood, was flanked by two willows weeping gorgeous veils of branches into an overflowing, flower-filled fountain. The fountain bubbled over its lip by design, an original brook now sculpted into a meandering stream. Lower, it was spanned by floating step-stone bridges. Single-person, leaf-shaped boats bobbed and wove in silver-green splendor.