“Why don’t we stop here for a while?” he asked.
They were traveling back to the palace. She was taking the scenic route past the river that flowed close to the city, where traders from the other parts of Carinia transported their goods along its wide, calm waters. The place Johar was pointing to was a tributary that fed the river; it was quiet and pretty, perfect for two lovers in the evening twilight to hide away.
“We should get back,” she said nervously.
“Why, so we don’t break curfew?” he teased, trying to bait her.
“I do not want trouble. But then, I suppose trouble is coming.”
“Then let’s stop.” His eyes said he wanted to do more than talk, and her body wanted to agree.
She slowed the cruiser and he was out of it before they had come to a stop, but instead of walking off towards the river, he came to her side of the cruiser, and helped her out. Gathering her up as if she was a small child, and cradling her to him. “I can walk, you know,” she said.
“I know.” She rested her head on his large chest, listening to the strong beat of his heart as he carried her over to the river and set her down on the soft springy grass. “I like holding you.”
His admission seemed hard fought, as if words like these were alien to him, as alien as he was to her. As she looked at him, his silver tattoos seemed to glow brighter than ever. Kneeling up, she placed her hand on his chest, and traced the pattern of what looked like a crescent moon. Where her fingertips touched him, the skin glowed whiter, and a small electrical charge seemed to emanate from him.
“Tell me about them.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his skin, feeling the buzz against them.
He groaned, and moved, so swift she was unprepared. He laid her down on her back, his body nestled between her thighs. “I want you, Tallia. You have no idea what you do to me.”
He moved his body, his cock hard, stimulating her clit, making her want him, ache for him, in return. “Not here.”
“Why not?” Johar pressed his lips to hers, his hand sliding between their bodies to press against her sex, he would know how much she wanted him, how much she ached for him, when he felt the heat there.
And maybe he was right. Maybe they should make love out here beneath the trees. He might put the child she needed in her belly, and then there would be no need for weddings and husbands. Her child would be a bastard.
“Johar, stop, please.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t want me, I feel the heat between your thighs, and smell the scent of your arousal,” he murmured against her neck as he kissed her softly, his lips leaving a trail of fire on her skin.
“I … we, have to do this properly.” She pushed him, but he was too strong, too big and she was like a tiny timil beneath him, powerless and small.
“I aim to do it properly, and for that we need neither a bed nor a ceremony.”
“Johar, please.” Her voice was urgent, as were his fingers pushing against the fabric between her thighs, making her want him, trying to make her forget her uncertainty. “Johar, stop.”
This time her words connected with his brain, and he lifted his face, his eyes heavy with arousal. “Yassa’s words have made you change your mind?”
“What?”
“I saw how you thought on what she said.”
“About. What … about getting married?”
“Yes. I would make a good protector, but not a good husband.”
She couldn’t move away from him, he still had her pinned beneath his body. Inside, her anger flared. “What do you think this is? I paid you fair and square.”
“Half. You paid me half fair and square, remember.”
“And the other half when…” She shook her head. “This is all about making sure I marry you, so you can get the other half of your money. What, you think I’ll withhold your fee unless you fuck me on our wedding night?”
“That was the deal.” His voice rose too, and she wanted to shove him aside. Instead she felt tears prick her eyes.
“Damn you.” She pushed at his chest, but he didn’t move, and her tears spilled down her cheeks, too quick for her to wipe away before he saw them.
His voice softened. “Don’t fight me, Tallia. Don’t fight against everything in your life.”
“I’m not.”
“Is it so much easier to believe no one cares?”
Now she did hit him, her balled-up fist struck his shoulder; he didn’t even flinch. “You don’t know me, and you have no right to judge me.” A sob bubbled up in her chest and she was horrified when it erupted, her body shuddering with the force.
“I’m not judging you. I think we are more similar than you can imagine, we both run and hide inside, but to others we put on this armor, to shield our true feelings, until we begin to believe we don’t care, we aren’t capable of love. Only you faced your duty. Whilst I ran from it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m trying to say I’m sorry. I thought if I made love to you here, you would marry me.”
“So you can get your money,” she sobbed again.
“No. Because I want to marry you. I want to help you and I want you to bear my child. A child I had sworn I never wanted.”
“Who are you, Johar T’Omil?”
“Until I met you, I didn’t know. Maybe your Misha’Ha is for real.” He sat up, shifting his weight off her. “I’m sorry. I think I was trying to cling on to who I thought I was.”
She placed her hand on his bare back, touching the tattoos there. “Who are you, Johar T’Omil?” she asked again softly.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I have been so many things. And now I am something different. I have evaded responsibility as if it was death knocking at my door. I saw it as something to outrun, something that would chain me to a life I didn’t want. Now, seeing how much you want the responsibility of your people’s life and happiness, for all the right reasons, you make me ashamed.”
His skin shone silver, one tattoo particularly lit up bright than the rest. Tallia traced her finger along it; the skin was smooth, but she could feel it. “What does this one mean?”
“That is the symbol of my clan. The sun and the bear. Constellations in our night sky. I am the bear. And the sun represents my people, represents life. I am supposed to be protector of that light.”
“Instead you are here.”
“Yes.”
She got up, feeling the loss of his nearness keenly. “You are free to go, Johar T’Omil. This is not your fight and your people need you.”
He rose to stand next to her, towering above her. “I am not leaving, Tallia. That is what I have done my whole life. Run. Not this time. We will defeat your Emissars and then our planets will be united by our joining. I will return to my father and do as he wishes.”
Relief swept over her. “Thank you. I always thought I could do this alone. But I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” He tilted her chin so she had to look into his eyes, the tattoos on his skin silver, glowing as one, making him look like a wraith in the gathering dusk. “But you don’t have to. And not just because I am here. But because the people love you, they are just waiting for a sign that you are willing to accept that love.”
She smiled and pushed him away. “Now you are telling fairy tales.”
“It’s true.”
“We should get back. We’re about to miss curfew.”
“Then let’s miss it,” he said.
Tallia stroked his skin and said, “One thing my father did teach me is not to pick a fight if there is no need.”
“This from the princess who sent her men into battle against the Garundi.”
“As I said, if there is no need. With the Garundi, there was a need. I could never let another race take any of our land.”
“I was joking,” he said. “It is good to be strong and not afraid to act if you need to.” He held out his hand to her. “You are right. Let’s not let them spoil our wedding day.”
She took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Accepting my money.”
“Half. You’ve only paid me half.”
“The rest is performance-based,” she said, kissing his lips.
“Oh, My Princess. You will want to pay me double.”
“We shall see.”
Chapter Twelve – Johar
He woke to the sun blazing through his window and a sense of disconnect. Where was he? Tallia.
His body remembered her, his cock hardening under the sheets. Today she would marry him, and this would be the last morning he would wake up alone. Her body would be his, and he intended to make every use of it.
Dragging himself out of bed, he dressed quickly. His pants were made of leather, soft-worn from all the days he had worn them during all the hours he had worked as he cruised the galaxy looking for trading opportunities. They did not seem to be the most appropriate clothes to marry a princess in, but then she probably didn’t care.
He smiled. That was one thing he had found unexpected in her, she did not stand by protocol: if he turned up butt naked she probably wouldn’t mind. However, he realized he had to cover up his torso and his tattoos. So a clean shirt should be procured.
Heading out of the room, he tried to remember the way to the kitchens. He had no desire to sit and eat with the Emissars, and so direct action was best. Kitchen, a plateful of food, and the sun on his face. That was the perfect start to any day, let alone his wedding day.
The kitchen was alive with people rushing around and voices clamoring to be heard. So much so that hardly anyone took any notice when the seven-foot silver alien walked in. Only Yassa’s sister stopped to speak to him.
“How was Yassa?” Mabel asked.
“Well. Tallia gave her practically all of the food.”
This made the cook smile. “Good. There is precious little food in those woods. They scavenge and gather what they can, and her man has tilled the earth to make a small kitchen garden, but the soil is not fertile. Unlike my sister’s womb.” With that she thrust a plateful of food at him and said, “Go. You are in the way. Such short notice for a wedding.”
“We could just have a quiet ceremony; there is no need for all this.” He was sure Tallia wouldn’t mind.
“The Emissars think otherwise. And I suppose your marriage to the Princess will change everything for them.” Her voice dropped low. “Which is why I am surprised they are celebrating.” She gave him a knowing look, her eyebrows raised, and then went back to kneading her dough.
Johar went outside, and leaned against the wall as he ate the soft pastry he had been given, along with some fruit and nuts. It wasn’t exactly the hearty breakfast he would have preferred; given a choice he would have had some meat, hot and dripping with fat to give him the strength to get through the day.
After finishing his food, he headed back inside for some water, or ale, that might make the day a lot easier to cope with. How the hell was he standing on an alien planet about to get married?
“Master Johar.” It was Rian; she walked down the corridor towards him. “I am happy to have found you.”
“Rian. How is Tallia this morning?”
“Nervous, I believe, but excited too. I have seen a change in her I had never dared hope to see.” Rian smiled shyly at him. “She is happy.”
“Good. I’m pleased,” Johar said. “Can I see her?”
“No. It is bad luck.”
“Oh.”
Rian giggled. “But she does wish to speak to you. So you will come with me and I will take you to her. You will be on one side of the wooden panel screen; she will be on the other.”
He didn’t ask why it was OK to speak to someone, but not see them on their wedding day, he simply followed Rian, more than happy to have something to occupy his mind. This was going to be a long day, since the ceremony was not until two o’clock in the afternoon.
“Here,” Rian said, opening a door, but as soon as she did, they heard voices. He recognized the voice of his bride-to-be, the other was of one of the Emissars, the one called Aleck. Rian was about to back out of the room when he stopped her. Ducking down, he moved behind the screen, listening to the voices that were raised in disagreement.
“Princess, on reflection, we have to object to you joining with this man. We know nothing about him.”
“I know enough about him to know he is the man for me. He will make a good husband and a good protector to our child.”
“A child you have not yet conceived.”
“He is strong and virile; of that I have no doubt.” These words brought a smile to Johar’s face.
“But what of you, Princess. What if you have the same affliction as your mother?”
“Affliction?” she asked, her voice rising further.
“Yes, your mother gave birth to you, a female, but she was barren from then on. What if you do not produce a male heir?”
“And what if I do?” she hissed.
“Is it fair to keep the population hanging like this? Surely it would be better to hand over the running of the planet to the Emissars until you have given birth to a child and we know that child is a boy.”
“Is that what this is about? You and the other Emissars are scared. You are scared I will have a boy and you will be powerless.”
“The Emissars are never powerless, Princess.” The Emissar’s voice came out like an angry hiss. “We have indulged you, tried to give you time to come to your senses, to mourn your father’s passing, but no more.”
“I will remind you that I am still the ruler of this planet.”
“Only because we allow it.”
“You allow it? It is the law. It is our way.”
“Then maybe the way should be changed. We leant our support to the males of your line because we knew we needed a strong leader to keep the slavers and traders in their place. You are not that leader.”
“You’re afraid,” she said. “You are afraid you will lose your power just as those before you. You never expected me to find a husband. You tried everything you could to stop me meeting a suitable man.”
“He is not a suitable man, let alone a suitable husband. He is no husband; he is no prince. Look at him, he is some freak you found in the … where did you find him exactly, Princess?”
“That does not matter to you.”
“Oh, but it does. You dragged him from the market, from what I hear. A common, street-brawling thug. Oh yes, I have eyes and ears. And do you know what else those eyes and ears tell me?”
A silence hung in the air.
“No? You don’t want to guess?” His voice was contemptuous as he spoke his words. “That you are as mad as your mother. That you went to the witch, and the witch told you who you who you were supposed to marry. Is this true?”
“And what if it is?”
The Emissar laughed. “Call off this wedding. Do not make a fool of yourself in front of all of your subjects.”
“There is no rule to say I can’t marry whoever I want.”
“No. But we will make sure you do not rule.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Yes,” he spat, and then there was the sound of footsteps walking away. But all he could hear was Tallia taking deep breaths as she tried to calm herself down.
Johar lifted his hand, standing up straight to tear the screen down. “No!” Rian said, standing in front of him. “It is bad luck.”
Johar stepped back, letting his hand fall to his side. If there was one thing they did not need, it was more bad luck.
Chapter Thirteen – Tallia
Tallia stood firm and watched him leave, her head held high and back straight, even though inside she was crumpling like a piece of discarded parchment. But not with fear, with anger: her body wanted to fold in on itself and erupt into a seething mass of fury and strike down the damn Emissars and their provocative stance on anything that did not go along with their
wants.
Provocative. Yes, that was what Aleck had come her for, to provoke her into actions she would regret. To try to force her into making a mistake, or letting her temper go and so proving she was unsuitable, unstable. Those were the words she had heard him use to describe her mother when it was revealed how many times she had gone to visit Misha’Ha.
“You are not your mother.” The words resonated inside her head, but they had come without.
“Johar?” she called quietly.
“He is behind the screen,” Rian said as she approached. “He is a little too tall, though.”
Tallia couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her big silver alien hiding behind the wooden screen. She expected him to burst out, for it to fall down and reveal him. “Is he kneeling down?”
“No, I am not kneeling down; I am not quite ready to bend my knee in your presence, My Princess,” he said, the anger barely concealed in his voice. “Although my fists would very much like to pummel a certain Emissar’s head.”
“Another day, perhaps. Let us be married, and then we can deal with the Emissars from a place of power.”
“You think they will accept our marriage and let you rule?”
“No.” She shook her head. “But if we do not marry, or something happens to disrupt the day, then the people will see it as an omen.”
“Your people do like their omens, My Princess,” Rian interjected.
“The Emissars are very good at using them at the most opportune moment.” Tallia stood next to the screen, and reached out to touch it, sure she could feel the faint buzz of electricity his tattoos gave off. “Please don’t fail me, Johar.”
They were the most honest words she had ever said. She could not offer him anything other than uncertainty. Not even love. There was no way to know if they would make a good match or if they would prove to make a terrible husband and wife. All she could believe in were the words of a psychic witch, who might have been making the whole thing up, or using Tallia to further her own goals.
“I will be there, Tallia,” he said simply. “But there is one thing…”
The Princess and her Alien Rogue: Alien Romance Page 6
