A Reluctant Companion

by Kit Tunstall

  She swallowed, disliking the idea of a squad of prying soldiers examining every aspect of life in their quiet province. “I think they’re wasting their time,” she said bluntly, without thought. “It’s far more likely you’re dealing with—” Abruptly, she shut her mouth with an audible click, realizing she was in danger of giving an opinion that could get her or her family killed. Just because Archer appeared to distrust Blaney didn’t mean he actually did.

  After a moment, Tiernan waved a hand. “Please continue.”

  She struggled to find something acceptable to say. “Incompetence,” she blurted. “It’s probably a paperwork error or something,” she finished lamely.

  Tiernan had a way of looking at her that felt like he had stripped every ounce of flesh from her bones and was visually probing her skeleton, perhaps to pierce her heart and read the truth. “You’re lying.”

  Nerves made her hand tremble as she lifted the glass to gulp. “This vintage does grow on you.”

  His large hand engulfed hers, suddenly reminding her of Cleo’s assertion that the commander was very blessed. Heat coursed through her, scorching her cheeks, and she jerked away from his touch, spilling wine on the white tablecloth. “I’m sorry. Excuse my clumsiness.”

  With an offhanded toss, he put his napkin over the spreading stain. “I don’t give a damn about the spill. What I care about is the wine I’m expecting from this province. It’s a valuable commodity for trading, and a great deal of the staples we all rely on only come about because of our wine. So, if you know something about why it’s disappearing, I order you to tell me.”

  The change from lighthearted suitor to imposing commander was instantaneous and terrifying. She froze, clenching her hands into fists.

  “Speak,” he barked.

  Trying not to shake and visually reveal her fear, she said, “I don’t know anything, okay? I was just speculating Blaney has been skimming some of the wine from your shipments for his own purposes.”

  His tone softened. “Why do you say that?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. My p…some people say he’s as corrupt as the day is long. I don’t know why they say that.”

  Tiernan’s posture changed, once more looking relaxed. “I’ve heard the same whispers. For Blaney’s sake, they should not be true.”

  Madison knew better than to ask what would happen to the governor if Archer found proof he was cheating on his provincial taxes. The last thing she wanted was to feed Tiernan’s anger. Her stomach picked the perfect moment to growl.

  He laughed softly. “It sounds like you’re ready for dinner?”

  She nodded, eager to get metaphorically as far away from the previous topic of conversation as possible. The reminder of the power he wielded had served as a damper for the rampant attraction she’d felt for him. She didn’t need any more displays of it if she was going to get through the night.

  To her surprise, he served them himself from a rolling cart nearby. Her mouth watered at the food he set before her. It was some kind of small bird stuffed with fruit. Since the wine and cheese had been all she’d consumed in hours, it took every ounce of self-possession not to dispense with the fancy cutlery and just pick up the bird to rip into it with her teeth. It tasted even better than it looked or smelled, and she closed her eyes for a moment to savor the taste.

  “Is this your first time tasting pheasant?”

  She opened her eyes and nodded. “It’s delicious.”

  Tiernan nodded. “I always travel with my personal chef, and this is one of her specialties.”

  She had a ridiculous impulse to ask if he slept with her too, but bit it back. Why would she care who the man slept with? He meant nothing to her, and after tonight, he’d go back to Seattle-Archer and forget all about her. With any luck, she’d be able to do the same.

  As they ate, they discussed inconsequential things, with the topic eventually turning to their families. Madison relayed a scant version of her family history before daring to ask about his family.

  “My great-grandmother was Celia Archer. You know who she is?”

  Madison shrugged. “The name sounds familiar, but I’m not sure.”

  He frowned. “What are they teaching you here?”

  She blinked. “School in our province starts at seven and ends at fourteen. We mostly focused on the basics—math, reading, agriculture, and science. There was some history, but I don’t recall the lessons now. It was so long ago.”

  Tiernan chuckled. “Just how old are you?”

  “Twenty.”

  “Yes, school was practically a lifetime ago,” he mocked gently. “Well, my great-grandmother was part of the United States military. She led a covert group that got warning the CME was coming.”

  “CME?”

  “Coronal mass ejection.” He sighed. “A solar storm. The sun emitted a huge magnetic shockwave that disrupted the electromagnetic field of the planet and killed all but the most primitive electronics.”

  Her eyes widened. “So, the sun caused The End?”

  “You mean to tell me they didn’t teach you about what caused The End?” When she shook her head, he cursed softly. “Seriously, I’m going to have to look into the curriculum your schools use around here.” Waving a hand, he pushed aside his now-empty plate. “Anyway, the CME hit the northern hemisphere the hardest. Certain people in high places decided that was unacceptable. They couldn’t imagine letting the US return to the Stone Age while other countries, like North Korea, continued to flourish. A decision came down to Celia to activate an experimental weapons protocol her group had been charged with creating.”

  Madison leaned closer, fascinated. “Do you mean the old government destroyed everyone else?”

  He nodded. “Basically. The order encompassed all the other countries in the world, including America’s so-called allies. The people at the top wanted an even playing field, so they deployed electromagnetic pulse weapons at strategic places around the globe in the hours before the CME crippled their equipment.”

  She frowned. “Your grandmother helped kill the old world?”

  “Great-grandmother, and yes. She was following orders. However, she also put into place her own emergency plan she’d been developing and deployed people she trusted to strategic locations before the CME hit. Her plan was to preserve as much infrastructure as possible. She stayed in Seattle, which eventually became Seattle-Archer, to indicate who was in command. That tradition continued throughout the Federation, even when there was a change in power. It would have been too confusing to change a province’s name each time someone new took over.”

  “Huh. So, Fred Grace came to Yakima, hence Yakima-Grace?”

  He nodded. “I believe the area comprised several cities back then, before he consolidated the region.”

  “And your family has ruled since then?”

  Tiernan nodded. “Yes. My grandfather, then my mother, and now me.”

  A word came back to her from the times her mother had made her copy words from an old dictionary to augment her thin education at the village school. Nepotism. She wasn’t dumb enough to utter it though. Instead, she asked, “Why do we still have a lack of electricity?”

  “Not enough resources or the manpower to harness them—plus, we lack the people who understand how power plants and manufacturing facilities work. I doubt you learned about it in your school days, but almost one hundred million people died just in the old United States in the few years after The End. Disease, starvation, and violence took their toll.”

  She shook her head, unable to comprehend that many people at all, let alone imagining them dead. “Why do they call it The End?”

  Tiernan shrugged. “I imagine it was originally something like the end of the world, or the end of the power, and was just shortened eventually.”

  History had never been one of her passions, but she was reluctantly fascinated by what she was learning—in a horrified kind of way. “What happened next?”

  “Slowly, governments form
ed again, and we ended up with several territories. My grandfather always dreamed of unifying them—with him at the head,” he added dryly. “It’s an impossible goal, at least for now. Most of the territories are struggling just to survive, same as us. Trade is about the only stable communication process between territories.”

  She exhaled. “It must be hard to do what you do.”

  He inclined his head. “It can be, which is why I appreciate an opportunity to relax.”

  His tone had turned more intimate again, and she tensed, sensing the political discussion was over, and he was ready to progress to physical matters. A surge of panic hit her, and she pushed back from the table, stumbling over to the balcony across the room. She opened the door with a fumbling hand and stepped outside to breathe in the fragrant night air.

  He followed. Of course he did. There was no way he was going to grant mercy and let her leave. She had to bite back hysteria. “The view is lovely.”

  He made a noise in his throat that could have meant anything. She froze when he put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her hair back on one side. “I didn’t realize how many people live around here.” Not that she could see much of anything in detail, though the starlight gave good illumination. She was just desperate to fill the silence.

  His lips teased her neck, making her gasp and tremble. He kissed her again before running his tongue down her skin. It took every bit of courage she had just to stand there as he touched her.

  “You’re so tense.” He massaged her shoulders as he whispered near her ear. “Come back inside and relax.”

  With a small whimper, she accepted the hand he extended and followed him back into the room. She was unsurprised when they walked through, not pausing at the table. He led her down a short hallway to another room, and her heart hammered in her ears when she saw the massive bed in the center.

  The door closed with a click that sounded like doom in the quiet room. She couldn’t do this. How could he expect her to? As he stepped in front of her, lifting a hand to cup her cheek, she turned away from his touch. “Please.”

  He frowned. “Please what?”

  “Let me go, Commander Archer. Please. I can’t do this.”

  Tiernan’s frown deepened. “You want to leave?”

  Trembling, she nodded.

  “But why?” He seemed genuinely astounded.

  She looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m scared. I don’t know you, and I’ve never…” Trailing off, she didn’t look up until he nudged her chin up with his fingers.

  His gaze was gentle, his eyes full of compassion. “I won’t hurt you, Madison.”

  She nodded, wanting to believe him, but not so sure. “Couldn’t you just let me go home?”

  His brow wrinkled. “I could, but the truth is, I don’t want to. I want you, and I know I can make you want me too. You just need to calm down.”

  Her breath left her with a harsh sound that could easily turn to a sob. Part of her wanted to rail at him, to demand why he thought he had the right to make her stay when she didn’t want to, but another part of her wanted to be right there. Curiosity and desire had ensnared her, and she had a feeling he was right. He could definitely make her want him if she could shut off her mind.

  “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  He didn’t wait for her assent as he tipped her chin higher and lowered his head. His lips were gentle against hers, coaxing a response she wanted to give. This gentle fluttering of his mouth against hers was nothing like the clumsy kiss a classmate had stolen from her when she was thirteen. Moving slowly, he deepened the kiss until she pressed against him, hand tangled in his now-dry curls.

  His tongue swept inside her mouth, igniting a spark that seemed to burn all the way through her. With shy strokes, she returned his caresses, darting her tongue into his mouth and out again as courage waned.

  After several minutes, he lifted his head and framed her face between his hands. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

  She blushed, shaking her head.

  He smiled. “You don’t believe me?”

  Madison shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve just never thought about it, I guess. Papa used to say he’d have to run off the boys with a fencepost.” She blinked, remembering how silly her father had sometimes been before her mother started getting sick. Blinking again to dismiss the moment of sadness, she put a hand on his chest, tentatively stroking it. The cotton was soft and smooth, not like the homespun she usually wore. As she toyed with one of the wooden buttons, he moved his hands from her face to her back.

  In small increments, as though wanting to avoid scaring her, he unbuttoned her dress until it pooled at her waist. She peeked up at him through the veil of her lashes, as he seemed to drink in the sight of her pert breasts barely shielded by the thin silk of the slip.

  It was so strange to stand like this in front of a virtual stranger, to know she had little choice about being here—but not really caring about her lack of options right then. Cleo’s words about embracing it as a new experience came back to her, crystallized and clarified in a way that hadn’t made sense before she was actually standing before the commander.

  With another flick of his wrists, the green sheath fell to the floor, leaving her in just the slip, panties, and a pair of black heels. She had to resist the urge to cover herself as she trembled before him.

  “Shh, don’t be afraid.” He smoothed hair off her face. “I promise you will enjoy tonight as much as me, Madison.”

  She trembled again, this time with anticipation as the commander took a step back from her to unbutton his shirt. He stripped away the white material to reveal a perfectly sculpted chest and flat stomach. Hesitantly, she reached out to run her fingers over his abs, pleased by the way his breath hissed through his teeth in response. Emboldened by his reaction, she let her hand splay across his stomach, her fingertips flirting with the waistband of his pants. The thought of actually plunging her hand inside to feel his cock for herself made her giddy.

  He endured her cautious exploration without moving until she lifted her hand away. As if a switch had flipped, he moved forward quickly, capturing her mouth for another kiss, this one more intense than the last. By the time their fused mouths parted, she could barely breathe and felt dizzy, with both desire and lack of oxygen.

  “Are you still scared?” he asked, his fingers flirting with the straps of her slip before pushing one down her shoulder.

  “Yes and no,” she whispered. “I’m scared to be feeling…this…whatever it is, but I’m not afraid of you anymore.”

  He breathed deeply, what sounded like a sigh of relief. “Will it frighten you if I take off your clothes?”

  Eyes glued to his chest, she shook her head.

  “And mine? Is that okay?”

  Madison nodded, frozen as Tiernan moved away from her to take off his shoes and pants, returning to her only in a pair of modest beige briefs. She couldn’t help tensing a little when he pushed the straps completely off her shoulders and guided the scrap of silk down her curves. On instinct, she stepped out of the slip and her shoes when it pooled on the floor.

  He held out a hand that she took with only a little tremble to betray her uncertainty. Feeling shy and excited all at once, she followed Tiernan to the bed, standing by it nervously as he sat down. He guided her to stand between his parted thighs, and she did so, unable to look away from the sight of his hand nearing her breast. She gasped with surprise and pleasure when he cupped the globe in his large hand, squeezing gently.

  Soon, he held both her breasts in his hands, his thumbs moving lightly over her nipples. Madison threw back her head, spilling hair down her back, as he worshipped her body. When his mouth replaced one of his hands, she whimpered, fearing her reaction more than his actions for just a moment, until ecstasy took over. As he sucked her nipple, he kept a hand on her other breast, tugging the nipple tenderly in rhythm with the movements of his mouth.

  His other hand splayed across her buttocks,
and his skin was warm through the lace. Liquid heat gathered between her thighs, slipping downward as he rubbed her bottom in small circles. His thumb crept between her legs, seeking out the heat between her legs. Madison cried out with pleasure as he stroked the nub that she sometimes played with at night, long after everyone in the house was asleep.

  His mouth left her breast, and he rested his chin between her breasts, looking up at her. “I’m going to take off your panties now. Do you want to lie down after I do so? I just want to look at you,” he stroked her slit again, “Here. And maybe taste you.”

  She shuddered, unable to comprehend allowing a man to touch her so intimately. At the same time, she couldn’t imagine telling him no. Not because he was Commander Archer, leader of the Northwest Federation, but because she didn’t want to. She wanted to feel his mouth on her. She nodded, compelled to hold her breath as he eased off the sumptuous underwear. Afterward, he assisted her onto the bed, posing her so that she lay on her back with her legs splayed. Modesty demanded she shield her femininity, but when she tried to close her thighs, he stopped her, his hands on her thighs holding her in position.