“What did they do to you?” His hand balled into a fist along the back of the bath, but he showed no other emotion.
“They beat us until the snow turned red and then they dragged us by our hair into a cell. They left us there for what had to be days. Clariah died the second night. One of the Madams had kicked her in the head. By the time the doctor arrived an infection had set into my insides and they had to scoop them out or I’d die as well. I often wondered why they bothered to save me. I much rather have died. Clariah was like a sister. Without her, the place truly was hell.”
“I’m sorry you lost her.” His eyes softened, but she thankfully didn’t see pity on his face.
“Thank you for not looking at me with sympathy. I don’t tell you this to make you feel sorry for me.”
“You only wished to explain how you cannot give me children,” he concluded. “The robots cannot fix it?”
“The children thing is part of it,” she admitted, “and no, the nanobots cannot fix what was not there when they were implanted. All they did was take away the surgery scars on my flesh. The biogeneticists confirmed it.”
“And the other part?”
“I’m trying to explain it to you.” She rushed on before he could interrupt. “After Clariah’s death, I tried to escape every chance I got. I think I wanted to either be free or die trying. It’s how I learned how to fight and take a punch. When finally I made it, I found the city streets weren’t as clean as we’d been led to believe. An old woman found me and took me in. Having been an escaped orphan herself, Lotta understood there was little I could do to integrate myself into mainstream society. Everyone in my world is documented and scanned. For me to even try to get a job would mean I’d be captured and dragged back.”
Jayne took a deep breath. Did he have to look at her like that? So intense and unmoving?
“Lotta came to care for me as a daughter and for a short time we were happy. But soon after I met her, she died from the cold. I took over her home until a couple of ruffians kicked me out. It really was just a small inlet in a delivery alley. I was alone and kept mostly to myself, though I did find a nice little spot near the animal collective for a few months. The older orphans had taught the younger ones to read, so I spent my time memorizing the plaques. This kind guy found me reciting the information without looking and took me in. I don’t know that I ever knew his real name, but I called him Mr. Bear. He was arrested that very week and I never saw him again—though I did walk by his place from time to time to see if he came back.” She waved her hand at Ronen, shooing his eyesight away. “Can you not stare at me? It’s hard enough thinking of these things without your eyes… Can you just not?”
His brow arched and he reached to dip his hand into some soap. Watching him lather suds over his tight flesh did little to improve her concentration. She pressed her legs tightly together, trying to end the throbbing ache of desire building there.
“Then there was Coach Wagner, the boxing trainer who discovered me…” Her gaze focused on his hands, gliding over strong, hard muscles. They moved over his arms and shoulders, across the expanse of his chest, up the hard cords of his neck. She swallowed, panting softly for breath. “…found me on the…”
Oh, bloody misery. She bit her lip. Ronen circled a hard nipple with the tip of his finger. She opened her mouth, wanting to bite his flesh. Jayne stepped toward the bath, her eyes sweeping down to look into the blue tinted water.
“Found you?” Ronen prompted, smiling slightly but still not looking directly at her, as she’d requested.
“I taught, I mean learned to fight for pocket change and table scraps. They let me live in the boxer dorms. I kept my mouth shut and they put me on…” Jayne swallowed, wondering if he was at all hard beneath the surface. She wanted to take his cock deep as she rode his lap. “Divinity’s entertainment circuit. Coach Wagner saw I could take a hit and took me under his training. Then…”
“Then?”
Jayne stiffened, frowning as she tried to get a hold of herself. She’d come to talk to him with a purpose and his sensual bathing movements were distracting her from it. Quite aware that her story was taking a long time to tell, she again tried to rush through. “He died, too. His heart gave out when he was out running the Animal Pass. Coaches aren’t considered worthy of the expense of a full-body bioengineered upgrade and he didn’t have any nanobots inside him to repair the damage. Because of him I’ve earned a great living, more than anyone thought an orphan could amount to. I have money and fame and a place to live that I don’t have to share. I even had that damned orphanage torn to the ground and Susan turned out onto the streets. It was easier to do than I thought. I simply paid off dirty politicians to change the laws for better child treatment. They loved having something to campaign about.”
“I do not think I would like your dimension,” he stated, his hands stalling on his chest. “I’m sorry you have suffered, but—”
“Wagner said he thought of me as family the night before he passed.” She inched closer.
“But, here, there is no reason for you to suffer,” he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. “You will be taken care of and, should I die, there are plenty of men who would seek you as a bride to ensure you are never without home or food. If you haven’t noticed, women are prized treasures.”
“Haven’t you heard a thing I’ve said?” She came to the edge of the bath and couldn’t help peeking down. His cock towered beneath the surface, erect and ready. “I can’t stay here, Ronen. I’m not good for you or this country. I fight for money.”
“Then try to run if you must, Fighting Lady Jayne.” He surged forward, his hands striking out to grab her by her hips. He jerked her body forward, so his cheek pressed against her corset. “But I will follow you wherever you go. You will not escape me. Honor forbids it.”
Chapter Twelve
Ronen did not know what she meant to explain by telling her story. Why would anyone want to run back to a life that had caused her so much obvious loss and pain? Did she like to suffer? The look on her face when she spoke of her past belied the fact. Or did she seek comfort in the familiar?
His wet fingers dried against her thick skirts. Queen Patricia must have ordered his wife clothes, because her skirts had never felt so full. He didn’t like it. The material kept his hands from molding along her thighs and ass. “I will confess that it amazes me how you claim to fight with your fists and yet your flesh is so beautifully unmarred. Methinks I would not like to see my battle scars healed. The length of a warrior’s life is written on his body and scars are to be worn with honor.” He reached over the bath, pulling at her skirts to lift them. Touching the back of her knee, he moaned. “But I find your smooth flesh very fitting for a lady, even one who can stand up to knights without fear.”
Jayne leaned into him. Her hands grazed over his shoulders in light acceptance of his touch.
“Come.” Ronen held her tight and pushed to his feet, lifting her up. “Let me see more of it. It has been too many days since I’ve felt your flesh around me and my mood has soured because of it.”
Jayne gave a surprised laugh and bent her knees so he could pull her over the edge. Then, letting her slide down his body, he lowered her into the water. Her gown pooled around her calves, engulfing his legs in the heavy material.
Pressing against him, she ran her hand through his hair and gazed into his eyes. “I’m glad you’re unharmed.”
It didn’t appear that she tried to insult him, but the words cut. If she worried about him riding out to scout the borderlands, a rather unexciting task, what would she think of him riding off into battle? He’d led men into more than he could count, clearly always making it home alive, albeit sometimes with serious injuries. Then, as a thought occurred to him, he couldn’t help giving her lopsided grin. Did her concern mean she cared for him just a little? It was a small sign, to be sure, but he’d take it and gladly.
“Do not say such things in front of the men lest they think yo
u worry. It would not do for them to believe that I am too soft to lead into battle.” He found laces along her back and began following them with his fingertips to discover where they tied together.
“Soft?” She reached between them and grabbed his erection. “I don’t think any part of you could be mistaken for soft.”
Ronen groaned. He kissed her, feeling like a man possessed. There was comfort in avoiding the emotional and focusing on the physical. Every part of him needed more—more of her taste, her touch, her breath against his mouth. She’d gotten into his soul, entangling herself without even trying. He needed her like air and food, sure he would die without her. Words tried to form, but he didn’t know how to say what he felt or if he even should. She made her position in his life clear.
I can’t let you go, Jayne. I know I should let you choose your own fate, but I can’t even consider it.
“I thought you were exhausted.” Jayne walked him back and pushed him down into the water, completely unaware of the turmoil of thoughts warring inside him. His hands slid from her back, unable to find an opening to the corset.
I want to pull you into my chest and never let go. I want to lock you in a tower so I’ll always know where you are. I want to see you smile. I want your happiness.
“How can a man sleep with you in his arms?” Ronen bit back the emotions, swallowing them deep and focusing on something he knew they got right—sex. The fatigue of his hard ride and sleepless nights seeped into nothingness. Her nearness gave him energy, fueling his passions and driving his need. She lifted her skirt so the ends floated over his thighs, tickling his flesh.
His heart beat a little faster as she took his face in her hands, angling his mouth for a kiss. Smooth legs brushed against him, sliding easily along his skin beneath the water. Jayne ran her hands wherever she could reach, exploring and massaging each muscle she came into contact with. He liked the feel of her soft skin, even though it covered a very athletic body.
Ronen closed his eyes and groaned as she rubbed his neck. Her kiss intensified, demanding he part his lips to allow her full access. He obeyed the silent command of her pressing mouth and probing tongue. His hard erection tangled in her skirts and he reached to free himself.
Everything faded by the woman straddling his lap. His thoughts focused on her lips, the pants of her breath, her wet thighs. Heat centered over her as she lifted up. Her mouth slipped from his with a heavy sigh. As she maneuvered her body over his, he took hold of her hips, waiting for the glorious second he could impale her on his shaft.
Jayne made a weak noise of pleasure as the head of his cock found entrance. Ronen needed no more invitation. A fortnight had been one fortnight too long. He pulled her down as he angled his hips up. Her weight pushed him back down onto his seat and he groaned loudly.
His gaze met hers, holding it steady. There was a new softness to their depths, something he was sure he hadn’t seen before when she looked at him. What had happened while he was gone? The expression gave him a hope he dare not feel.
Jayne moved slowly, as if treasuring each moment. He knew he was. Holding her waist, he let her have control. Her fingers ran through his hair, pulling lightly so he was forced to look up at her fully. Golden firelight illuminated her face. Their open mouths panted in unison, almost touching with each down thrust.
Time stood still for them, cocooning them in a single moment when nothing else mattered or even entered into his mind. It was just Jayne, just him, together as one.
As the tension built, her movements became fast and shallow. Her head rolled back on her shoulders, breaking the eye contact in her rapture. He felt her pussy quivering over his cock, gripping him tight and releasing. She let loose a short, high-pitched cry as she jerked with release. Ronen couldn’t resist answering her call and came soon after, jetting his seed deep inside her.
Her forehead lowered, pressing into his. She didn’t move from his lap, keeping his cock imbedded deep inside her sex. Harsh breath mingled between them. Ronen held her, not wanting to let go.
“Ronen?” She breathed against his neck. “I don’t like the idea of someone else trying to claim me if you died.”
Ronen frowned, unsure whether or not he’d actually heard the quiet words or if his pleasure-numbed mind invented them to soothe the desperate need inside his chest. She didn’t move, didn’t indicate she had spoken at all so he said nothing.
After a long moment, she pushed off his lap and stood. Wobbling as she gained her footing, she moved for the edge of the tub. When she stepped out, water dripped from her gown, pooling loudly onto the stone floor.
“Then I must try not to die,” he said, trying to make her smile while trying to find the words to make her stay. But tender words only seemed to make her uncomfortable and he wanted so much to please her. When she spoke, Ronen saw that it had taken a lot for her to tell him of her past. However, her words didn’t tell him what he needed most to know—what she was thinking. Did she feel anything for him? Or did his tired mind just imagine it in her, grabbing onto any reason to hope? Or perhaps it was his needy heart that saw what it had to see? Then again, maybe she only thought of escape, of leaving him, of freedom from Staria.
How could he hold onto her when she didn’t want to be with him? How could he force her to accept what she didn’t want? And, most tragically, how could he even think of letting her go?
As if she hadn’t heard his words over the swishing of her heavy skirt across the floor, she said, “I should find something dry to put on and fix my hair. Queen Patricia threatened to draw and quarter me, or chop off my hands, or some such nonsense if I ever showed up ‘unladylike’ in her hall again. Though, I wonder what she’d do if I paraded around naked. Perhaps it would give her a very delicate attack and she’d never bother me again.”
She closed the door without a backward glance, leaving a trail of wet stone behind her. Ronen didn’t move from the tub, too exhausted at the moment to even think of a reply.
* * * * *
Jayne took a deep breath, pressing her back against the door. She hoped her parting words appeared light and carefree because inside she felt like she’d been stabbed a thousand times. She’d opened herself to him and he said nothing. Now that it was over, her hands shook violently and she balled them into fists.
Though, to be fair, her mind seemed to run in circles until she couldn’t remember exactly what she said to Ronen. She told him her story, but did she make her point? Did she say what she needed to say? Did he understand why she needed to leave him?
It was no wonder the man was confused. She tried to explain that she was no good for him even as she tried seducing him. He’d been naked and so incredibly alluring in his bath. How could she resist going to him? How could she think?
People who cared for her never lasted long. Sure, some carried on for a few years, but she didn’t want to wait around to learn he died in battle. Then, what? Another man would take hold of her and say, “mine”? She’d thought that at least here, in a war-hardened land filled with warriors, a man like Ronen would never come to have feelings for her. Or had those feelings gone away? She wasn’t sure which answer was worse. Had she known she’d end up here, confused and tearful, she’d never have chosen her original plan of claiming him and seducing him. It was never supposed to go like this.
“I rambled,” she whispered, trying to make sense of the rush of words she’d thrown at him before resorting to sex to avoid saying more. “I didn’t say it right. I need to go back and make sure he understands.”
Her wet gown stuck to her legs, but instead of changing, she went back into his chamber. She looked at the bath, but it was empty. Scanning the room, she found him stomach down on the bed, naked.
“I’m afraid if I stay here, you’ll die,” she blurted, her voice soft. “Logically, I know it’s stupid and that there is no such thing as a person being cursed, but I can’t help it. I’m really confused. I don’t want to lose more people and I think losing you might hurt unbearably. I
hate you for making me feel anything. I was doing fine on my own. I had a life and security. But you see Dersly said I should come tell you, but I’m not convinced it’s such a great idea. So…”
Jayne inched closer to the bed. He hadn’t moved.
“Ronen?” Jayne leaned over, seeing his closed eyes lined with the purple of exhaustion. She gave a derisive laugh and backed toward her chamber and shut the door between them. “Oh, of course, you’re asleep. I finally get the nerve to tell you I love you and you’re sleeping. Maybe it’s a sign that this isn’t meant to be. Maybe here your gods really do have a plan and I ruined it by speaking up at the ceremony. I’m sure they have a nice, wholesome ladylike woman for you, Ronen, someone who can make you proud and be your constant. You deserve that much.”
Jayne pulled at her corset laces, pushing the tight bodice over her hips to the floor. In irritation, she kicked at the stiff material so it flew into a wall with a splat. “For a place that’s so sexual, they make it impossible to get out of their dresses.”
Her hands fumbled on her gown and with each effort to undress she became more incensed, focusing her anger on the clothing so she didn’t have to feel anything else. She flung her limbs wildly, clawing and cursing to get out of her wet gown. It stuck to her legs, itching uncomfortably.
“This dimension has messed with my head. I have to get out of here. Once I leave, it’ll all go back to the way it should be.” She heard a rip and pulled harder. The back split open and her gown gaped along the bodice. Tugging and kicking, she finally managed to free herself. She gasped for breath, panting from her tirade. “When I find the son of a whoring Divinity cat who did this to me, I’m going to rip him apart. He’s going to discover just how tough Fighting Lady Jayne can be. I don’t need Ronen. I don’t need anyone.”
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