Caelan's Captive (Limani Warriors Book 1)

by Faye Avalon

  She wouldn’t be intimidated. “How long am I to remain here?”

  “As long as you wish.”

  “As I wish?”

  Pointedly, he looked around him. “Do you see locks on the doors? Bars on the windows?”

  No, she didn’t, come to think of it. At least, none that were visible. But was it a ploy? Was he trying to lull her into feeling secure and then he would pounce? She didn’t trust him. Couldn’t afford to trust him.

  “There are more ways to imprison a woman than with locks and bars.”

  “Why would I want to imprison you?”

  Was he genuinely trying to provoke her? “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? I’m little more than your prisoner, your captive. I appreciate you letting me regain my strength before I face my fate, but I would prefer to have an indication of what to expect when I am back to full health. What is to be done with me?”

  “Now why would you expect that I intend to do anything with you?”

  Infuriating man. He was toying with her like an animal trapped in a snare.

  “I am in your quarters, am I not? Why am I here if not to be punished in some way?”

  “May I remind you that you sailed into my waters uninvited? Had I not plucked you out of the reef, you would now be food for the fish.”

  Sailed into his waters? Uninvited?

  Everything inside her grew warm. Had she truly made it out beyond the horizon to where she had heard people lived freely? Unencumbered by the king’s tyrannical rule?

  Her heart began pounding with joyful relief at the thought she might be free. But if that were so, where was she? This man spoke the same language, ate the same foods.

  Maybe it was a trick and the king had meant to test her, find out why she had tried to escape. Had he tasked her guard to ingratiate himself with her, to learn of her plans, her reasoning? To pretend that he didn’t know who she was?

  Yet, if this man really didn’t know her identity, and had no idea from where she’d come, maybe she had sailed far from the king’s clutches, to another land.

  Regardless, she had to play things very carefully. It didn’t matter where she was. The king’s reach was vast. This man could be in the king’s employ whoever he was, and wherever he lived. The islands that were now under Zomotian rule would never dare go against their new ruler, the king.

  She had to think. Had to remain vigilant.

  The man surveyed her closely, suspicion heavy in his hypnotic gaze. “When your health is recovered, I will arrange for you to be sent back home.”

  Grasping for courage she didn’t feel, she angled her chin into the air. “S…sent back?” Everything inside her went to ice.

  He folded his arms across his wide, muscular chest. “Do not dishonor us both by continuing to play your childish games.”

  “I am not playing games.”

  “Then tell me the reason you are here.”

  He was such a towering hulk of a man, but she was determined not to give him cause to know she found his presence intimidating. “First tell me where I am.”

  His jaw tightened, as if he was barely holding onto his patience. He was indeed a formidable man and with him glaring down at her she felt herself grow weak.

  He frowned. “You grow pale,” he grated as he placed his palm to her forehead. “Are you in more pain?”

  “N … No.” She needed to think, but her head spun and her stomach quivered. She couldn’t think clearly. Her mind simply wouldn’t focus. He wasn’t helping, touching her as if he had every right. Her body was acting strangely. Her head continued to spin. And she felt ashamedly vulnerable lying naked beneath the filmy silk covering while this man loomed imperiously above her. “I wish for a nightgown.”

  She thought he would dismiss her request, but he walked to a chair in the corner where unfamiliar clothing lay. “I will summon a maid to help you.”

  With great effort, Lahna hoisted herself up a little. “I do not need help. And those are not my clothes.”

  He frowned at the gown he carried across to the bed, then looked back at her. “If you wish to have your own clothes, the gown you arrived in, then I am afraid you will be only a little less naked than you are at this very moment. It was but mere shreds when I found you.”

  Her face flushed as his eyes traveled along her form. This man had probably seen more of her body than any man before him. It was not right. It was not proper for an untouched woman to be seen in such a way. “Then I thank you and will have the gown you offer.”

  Her head spun, but she knew it was not in her best interests to antagonize him. If he was planning to send her back, she had to find a way to escape again. And if he grew suspicious, he would likely hold her captive until he could arrange to return her to the king.

  Being unable to look him in the eye, she kept her gaze on the gown as she took it. When he didn’t move, she was forced to look up at him. “I would prefer my privacy. Please leave so I may dress.”

  He remained immobile. “If you refuse the help of a maid, then I remain here.”

  She didn’t doubt he would carry out his threat. “Then I will have a maid.”

  He nodded and turned to leave. “As you wish.”

  ****

  Two days later, Lahna stood at the window of the large bedchamber in a long silk tunic that, in her homeland, would be considered bed wear. The maid had assured her that it was perfectly acceptable inside wear for the women of Limani.

  Limani.

  Lahna’s chest tightened. She was in Limani. The premier island in the kingdom, the one with the fiercest warriors, the harshest council, the toughest ruler: Prince Caelan. The man who had saved her from the sea and had tended her wounds. And who planned to send her back from whence she’d come.

  The heart that had been gently hoping for freedom, now sank like a stone. Having failed to sail far enough away from Zomotia, Lahna was still effectively trapped by the king’s rules and regulations. While she had heard talk, rumors, that Prince Caelan was no supporter of the king, or of having his island placed firmly back under Zomotian rule, Lahna knew the extent of the king’s control. Nobody dared disobey the powerful ruler. Not even the fearless Prince Caelan. Lahna knew he would have no compunction in sending her back once he discovered her true identity.

  Shivering, she pulled the cream wrap the maid had brought tight around her shoulders, and wondered what her next move should be.

  Goddess of the Night, she had told the prince her name. What kind of fool was she?

  Limani might be the most highly valued and revered of the islands, but it would be subjected to the harshest of treatment should it be known they had harbored a woman who belonged to the king.

  Which meant she had to get away from this room, from him. She had to escape. Of course, this being an island she would need another boat and this time one that was capable of taking her as far away as possible. There were lesser islands where she would have more chance of blending in, where the people were too busy surviving to worry about the sudden appearance of a stranger. And hopefully she would arrive stronger. The condition she was in when she came to Limani had made her vulnerable.

  Right now, she had to focus and concentrate. The maid had told her that these were Prince Caelan’s chambers, and she had blushed as she confirmed that it was very much considered improper for the island’s ruler to allow a woman into his private quarters, but the prince had been adamant that on this occasion protocol should be ignored.

  Why? Because, despite his words, she was indeed his captive? Imprisoned here in his chambers until he could get word to the king that he harbored a fugitive? She thought of his reputation as a tough, uncompromising ruler, but for sure he wasn’t a stupid one.

  She looked out the window and saw that her room, Prince Caelan’s room, was several feet above ground level, but there were ridges around the stone walls that she could perhaps scale.

  Beyond the building, the sea beckoned. She would not only have to find another boat, but would need t
o take the time to find a map, a compass. Her own map and compass had been swept away during one of the storms she had faced several days ago.

  Lahna dizzied at the thought of the task that lay ahead of her. Her first attempts to leave the mainland had been planned perhaps naively, but in her defense, she had never sailed before, had never left her homeland. She could not envisage the enormity of what she faced. Now, she did.

  It made her head spin anew and she stumbled from the window.

  “Sit.”

  Lahna jumped at the terse command and saw the prince striding across the floor toward her, his face grim, eyes hard. He caught her up and set her in the nearest chair. “What madness possesses you that you remain on your feet beyond exhaustion?”

  Had she physically swayed? Lost her balance? Her head swam again. “My head…” She reached her fingers to her temples.

  He said something in a dialect she did not recognize, but from the grate of his voice and the low tone, she imagined it was something uncomplimentary and possibly lewd.

  Seconds later, he thrust a cup to her lips. “Drink.”

  Grateful, she sipped.

  When she offered the cup back, he placed it on a nearby shelf. Her head reacted strangely when he reached down and swept her into his arms again. “You should return to bed,” he grumbled, his deep voice like gravel as he strode across the room as if she weighed nothing at all.

  It was intoxicating, Lahna thought as she wrapped her arms around his neck and the soft wrap fell from her shoulders. Like the time she and some friends had snuck into a wedding feast and stolen honey wine from one of the attendants. The room had spun until her stomach revolted and she had spent the rest of the evening with a pounding head. Except this was really nothing like that. This did not leave her vowing never to touch wine again, nor did it make her head pound uncomfortably. This was altogether more … pleasing.

  All too soon Prince Caelan lowered her carefully down onto the soft covering. She kept her arms around his neck until the very last moment, not wanting to break the contact. His flesh was warm, his scent a pleasant blend of spices and the salt of the sea. Lahna breathed it in as her fingers slid from his neck and down his arms where the muscles flexed. His muscles felt hard, and her face flushed at the realization of her wanton thoughts. She looked into his eyes and his intense gaze hit her like nothing she had known.

  Her skin felt hot, her throat dry. Her stomach fluttered like leaves in the wind. She felt different, and a strange feeling pulled low in her pelvis, between her legs. She had eavesdropped on some of the conversations of the women at court, and lately of some of her friends, discovering that a woman’s body reacted in strange ways when she took a lover and especially when that lover was experienced in the workings of a female body.

  Was that what was happening to her? Did it have to do with the prince? Was he doing those things to her that the women had spoken of?

  Fear trickled down her spine. She had never felt this way in a man’s presence before. Under the cover of darkness, beneath her bed coverings, she had experimented with her own body, using her hands and fingers to explore those places the women had spoken of, the places where a man would touch. The experience hadn’t been an altogether unpleasant one, and she’d thought that one day she might enjoy a man touching her there, like that. But now that Prince Caelan stood over her, it felt entirely different.

  Intense … frightening … exciting.

  Her face flushed until it burned. Her body felt alive as it had never done before. It craved for the man standing over her to touch her. She wanted to feel his hands, those big hands, sliding over her electrified flesh. She wanted him to touch her breasts, her stomach, and that place between her legs. She wanted him to kiss her.

  Did he want the same? The women had said that men always wanted to touch females, that they didn’t care who it was as long as the woman was prepared to open her legs for the man to sink between. Perhaps that was why he looked at her so intently, why he hadn’t yet moved away from her. He wanted her. Wanted her to open her legs for him to slip between.

  Even as the thought came, he moved away. “You will rest now,” he said gruffly, pulling the covering over her body.

  She didn’t want to rest. She felt absolutely well. She felt alive, intoxicated. The covering he placed over her felt too warm, too heavy against her sensitive flesh and she wanted to shrug it off. But he was tucking it under her chin.

  He wasn’t looking at her anymore. In fact, his eyes seemed to alight on everything in the room but her.

  “Will you stay? Until I sleep?”

  He strode to the door. “I have work.” His voice sounded tight and strained. “You should sleep and when you awaken we will have our long overdue conversation.”

  About who she was. Where she’d come from.

  If he didn’t already know, he would undoubtedly question her until she was unable to keep the truth from him.

  As he closed the door after him, Lahna pushed away the covers and stared up into the high domed ceiling. What was she to do? If she told him the truth, he would have her shipped back to the king. If she didn’t tell him, bluffed somehow, she might be allowed to stay until she could figure out a way to escape again.

  She renewed her plans to discover what direction her course should take, her best chance at living as a free woman. First, she needed to acquire another boat, build a good stock of provisions. Last time she hadn’t been prepared and, in her haste, to leave Zomotia she had been stupid and foolish. This time she would be prepared and she would succeed.

  But how would she convince Caelan into letting her stay until she had her plan in place?

  She stared at the ceiling, musing and plotting until day faded to night. As the first cicadas began to sing, the answer came to her. So simple, so easy. All she had to do was fool the tough, uncompromising Prince.

  Chapter Three

  Sitting back from his desk, Caelan stretched and drew in a deep breath. He had risen even earlier than was his normal routine, his mind and body finding no rest in sleep. Not trusting himself, he had not returned to his room last night. Instead, he had instructed Tansa to attend to Lahna’s needs.

  What kind of fool was he? Allowing himself to touch her, to lift her into his arms, to feel her firm, warm body sliding against his. His cock had not yet settled.

  She was young, likely far too inexperienced in the ways of the flesh. Dear gods, but he needed to slake his sexual needs with a woman before long or he would explode. Or worse, he would succumb to pale green eyes, long golden hair, full ripe lips, plump breasts that even the simple day gown could not conceal from his gaze.

  At first, he had assumed she was a girl from one of the islands who had escaped to the sea rather than face extradition to the mainland to be wed to one of the king’s court. But he couldn’t deny his darker instincts. That she was the king’s plant. Sent to find out Caelan’s plans. She’d known who he was. Hadn’t she told him he wasn’t what she’d expected?

  Unlike girls from the islands, she had shown no deference, indicating she was used to courtly manners and customs. The way she told him she would have him whipped if he touched her? That alone indicated that his initial instincts were correct. She was likely of noble birth. Which made it more plausible that she was here at the king’s bidding, doing his reprehensible work.

  All is not as it will seem...

  His father’s words continued to haunt his thoughts, strengthening his resolve to discover all he could about Lahna and her purpose here.

  His investigations into her boat, Kalisima, had yielded little information. The wood was from a ubiquitous source, the name of the craft fairly common amongst seagoing vessels.

  He would need to get his information elsewhere. From her.

  As if he’d summoned her with his thoughts, she appeared at the threshold of the room in which he carried out his daily duties. She wore a different gown, blue as the sea, but with the same cream wrap around her shoulders. If she thought it cov
ered the outline of her delectable breasts from his gaze, she was much mistaken. But her concerned expression indicated she had something clearly on her mind and if he needed further proof, the way she nibbled at her lower lip gave added weight to his assumption.

  Beneath his tunic pants his cock jerked. How he would love to bite that full bottom lip, feel the weight of those breasts in his hands.

  His mouth went dry.

  “Please excuse the intrusion, my lord.”

  Ah. How easily she slipped into courtly manners and deference to his position. Gone was the threat to have him whipped or other such fate. She had obviously decided now was the time to use her feminine wiles with which to do the king’s bidding. “No apologies are needed. Enter.”

  He surreptitiously covered the maps of the islands he’d spread out on his desk, where he had been contemplating how best to garner the armies to march on Zomotia.

  But now thoughts of her began their own invasion.

  He waited until she stood opposite his desk, noting how her gaze fell on the now covered maps and lingered there.

  “How are you feeling today?”

  She glanced up at him. “I am well, thank you.” Her gaze dropped to the table again, then she looked back to him. “I understand my presence here has robbed you of your bed chambers.”

  “Your attendant has too loose a tongue.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Oh please, it is not Riva’s fault. She only made to answer my questions.”

  “If you have questions, you would do well to direct them to me rather than interrogate your maids.”

  It was small of him, but he enjoyed the way his words seemed to fluster her. Her small hands clasped together, fingers worrying against her knuckles. “I meant no offense.”

  “You have given none.” He moved around the table, careful not to touch her. “Sit, please.”

  She did so, clasping her hands together again. “You’ve been very kind. I can never repay you for such generosity.”

  He gave her a long, slow perusal, again taking pleasure in the way her cheeks flushed and her gaze flitted away from him and back again. “Perhaps you could begin by explaining the circumstances which resulted in your being washed ashore on my land.”