She didn’t protest; was almost grateful for his strength that held her upright.
“Now?” Victor’s voice rose. “What guarantees do we have that you will not take use of Natalia and then go back on your word to back us?”
Almost to the door, he stopped them and turned around. “I have instructed my accountant to transfer five million tremas to your account in one hour as a gesture of goodwill.”
Victor gaped, practically salivating. “I see. Well—”
“If you haven’t got the money after one hour, then come get me.” His grip around her waist tightened. “But only if it hasn’t arrived. I plan to have the fuck of a lifetime with this little filly, boys.”
Little Filly? Some of the numbness dissipated and Talia blinked. Fuck of a lifetime? Anger filtered through her blood and she clenched her teeth. She would not make this easy for him. To hell with the punishment she’d receive later.
“So unless you boys have any more protests, I’m going to make use of my gift here.” Alan smacked her ass and then squeezed the flesh, his palm nearly covering an entire cheek.
Her blood burned hotter. What weapons were in her room? To be more exact, what would be best to gouge his eyes out?
“No, no more protests, Mr. Worthington.” Ramirez went back behind his desk and began toying with his computer. “Enjoy your time with Natalia. You’ll find her quite agreeable.”
“Thank you much, boys.” Alan tipped his hat and then led her out the doors into the corridor. He leaned down, his quiet voice tickling her ear. “I promise that he will pay for hitting you. Lead me to your room, princess.”
Why did he care if the Council hit her? “Do I have any choice?”
“No, Talia. You don’t.” All lightness in his tone vanished and it almost sounded as if his accent had disappeared for a moment.
But wait, that made no sense. Confusion warred with her frustration.
“Don’t call me Talia,” she muttered, attempting to pull away but his grip simply tightened.
“In the corridor you told me that was your name.”
Her laugh rose to semi hysterical. “In the corridor I was out of my mind.”
“Perhaps you were in the state of mind you have always deserved to be in.”
What did he mean? And yes. The accent was gone, and his words were more formal now than that bizarre slang he’d been speaking to the Council with.
They arrived outside her chamber and she turned to him, her brows drawn together in a frown. When she hesitated to open the door, he grabbed her hand and placed it on the palm recognition security box. A few men passed by them in the corridor casting curious glances their way.
The door slid open and he pushed her inside.
She stumbled to the middle of the chamber, swinging around to face him. Her breasts rose and fell beneath the fabric. “You need to explain.”
A predatory smile crossed his face and he reached for the tie around his neck. “I don’t need to explain anything, princess.”
His voice was cold, not even a trace of the accent. Who was he? A shiver ran down her spine and she took a few steps backwards.
He pulled off his suit jacket and dropped it to the floor. “Take off your dress.”
Her pulse slowed and then accelerated right back up into double time. The heat that spread throughout her brought a flush to her body.
She ran her tongue across her lips. “No. I will not.”
“Agreeable indeed.” He raised an eyebrow. “All right. If you will not remove it, then I will do so for you.”
He lunged and her scream reverberated through the chamber. Her dress ripped as he caught the hem and jerked.
“No!” She twisted away, causing the dress to split halfway up her hip.
He jerked hard on the fabric he held in his fist, catching her off balance and sending her sprawling to the floor.
“Barbarian!” she screamed trying to scurry away.
He fell to his knees and straddled her, grabbing her wrists in one hand and forcing them above her head. With his other hand free, he grabbed the bodice of her dress and ripped hard. Her breasts spilled free and she closed her eyes with a groan.
The room went quiet, with only the sounds of their ragged breathing to break the silence.
“By gods, Talia,” he rasped. “You’re more beautiful than I imagined.”
She shook her head and tugged at her wrists. She tried to hold onto the anger inside her, but there was a more dominant emotion fighting to take hold. Hot fire spread through her body, locking the breath in her throat and hardening her nipples.
“Oh gods. This makes no sense,” she confessed huskily. “I should not want this.”
His eyes darkened. “But you do.” The calloused pad of his thumb smoothed over one nipple and she gasped, heat moving between her legs. “You do, princess.”
He lowered his head and nuzzled her throat, kissed the pulse that beat there before sliding up toward her ear. His palm, wide and rough, cupped her breast. He caught her earlobe between his teeth and bit gently.
Talia’s hips arched off the floor, a guttural cry escaping past her lips. It was back, this strange heat and almost drunken state of arousal she got when he was near her.
He rolled her nipple between his finger and thumb. Another tremble rocked through her body and hot cream gathered in her pussy.
“I can smell your desire for me.” His fingers moved between her legs and rubbed lightly between the folds—the sensation so intense the muscles of her cunt clenched. “Unfortunately, fucking you will have to wait.”
“I…I don’t understand.” She squirmed, desperate with the need for him to press his fingers inside her. “Alan…please.”
His lips moved against her ear, his words just a whisper. “My name’s not Alan.”
The odd response brought her up from the thick depths of desire. “W-what?”
His hand moved away from her pussy and slid over to wrap around her right thigh. His expression turned somber, hard. “I’m sorry, princess.”
She saw the flash of the needle, just before it swung down and jabbed painfully into her thigh.
“No!” She struggled again, panic slicing through the fog of desire, but it was too late. Her flesh burned from whatever he was injecting into her.
Oh Gods! What had he just done? She struggled harder, managing to free one wrist because of the terror—induced adrenaline.
“Hold still.” He recaptured her wrist and held her down, kissing the tears that rolled down her cheek. “Just relax.”
She shook her head, but the movement made her dizzy. The lights above her head left tracers. Opening her mouth to speak, she found her tongue thick and the words stuck in her throat. Why? Why had he done it?
“That’s it, princess. Close your eyes,” he whispered and smoothed his thumb over her lips.
Her eyelids grew heavy, too heavy, and finally she closed them, almost certain she would never wake up.
Ryder waited until she was limp on the floor and then glanced around the room. He reassured himself there were no cameras, even if the room was almost certainly bugged for audio. It was the reason he’d told the Council he liked it rough, so her screams would be taken as a woman in pain. Not as a woman being abducted.
He hadn’t expected her to succumb to his touch so quickly—to be trapped under the web of arousal. He’d only spoken in whispers, so low the bug would not suspect anything more than whispers of passion. Her moans had been real, and thankfully aided him in his quest. Surely the Council would have no doubts that she’d been a willing lover enjoying a moment of passion with a stranger.
He’d wanted to give her the injection when her mind was clouded by passion, and it had worked. She had not even realized his intent until the needle had already pricked the skin of her creamy thigh.
Ryder turned his glance back down to her. She was lying on her back, with her knees bent to the side and her arms limp on the ground above her head. Her thigh bore the small red mark where
he’d plunged the needle. He kissed two of his fingers and then pressed them against the inflamed flesh.
Now came the final part of the mission. He glanced at his watch to assure himself he was on schedule. He was, though just barely. He’d taken the seduction stage just a little further than intended. She goes to your head, be careful around her.
He stood and went into the bathroom, kneeling down near the east wall and prying open the grate over the heating vent. Inside was the bag he’d stored earlier. He picked it up and went back into her room.
She was still on the floor, out cold just as he’d left her. Unzipping the bag, he pulled out the small incision knife and another syringe already loaded with the numbing agent.
Only a few minutes had passed since she’d been injected, but too long a period of silence might raise the Council’s suspicions.
He cleared his throat, infusing a bit of huskiness into his voice. “That’s right, princess, use your mouth on me. Oh…yes…just like that.”
Gods, he sounded like an idiot.
Lifting her foot onto his lap, he traced the pad of his thumb over her heel. The skin was buttery soft, no calloused skin anywhere. His mouth drew tight. Obviously she was a pampered, kept woman. He kept searching until he felt it. The slight ridge under the skin.
He grabbed the syringe, inserted it into her heel, and pressed the plunger. She groaned loudly—fortunately it sounded a bit sexual. He glanced at her, making sure it had just been a reflex. Yes, she was still out cold.
He recapped the syringe and dropped it into the bag, then grabbed the small incision knife. He tapped the point of the knife lightly against her heel, watching her face to see if she’d react. Nothing. She was completely numb.
He pressed the knife into her heel, cutting a small square around the area of the ridge, wiping away the blood that appeared. Peeling back the skin, he found it. The tiny tracking device that was so carefully implanted.
Using the tip of the knife, he lifted the plastic device out of her foot and set it in the bag. He pulled a small bottle out and removed a capsule, breaking it over the wound, knowing the gel inside would stop the bleeding within minutes.
He quickly bandaged her heel and then grabbed a small cotton jumpsuit—common dress for a male on this planet—from his bag. He quickly dressed her in it and then glanced at his watch again. His pulse sped up. A half hour had passed since they’d entered the room. The clock was ticking.
Time to appease the Council again, play up the dumb cowboy image.
“All right, princess. We’ve still got plenty of time. Let’s have some good old-fashioned shower sex.” He whooped. “Cause, whooo eee, did we get sweaty.”
He slid his arms under her limp body and scooped her high against his chest. After walking them into the bathroom, he laid her on the carpeted floor and turned on the shower.
He took the tracking device and placed it on a high shelf in the shower where it wouldn’t get wet, but would give the illusion of Talia taking a shower with him. He stripped off the rest of his suit and changed into the lightweight clothes he’d packed.
Grabbing his transmitter mobile, he punched in the code to signal for the pickup. A few seconds later the confirmation signal came through.
A light sweat of sheen broke out on his forehead as he went to work removing a metal panel from the wall.
The governing Council on Zortou had let the planet enter a state of poverty and near decay. Bribing a guard to create an escape route from Talia’s chamber had been easy enough. The offer of money and asylum had been all the convincing he’d needed.
The metal finally fell away, leaving a short and narrow tunnel in the wall. Almost there.
Ryder walked back into the bedroom, checking to see if he’d left anything behind and then went back to the bathroom.
He picked up Talia and slung her over his shoulder, then hunched down and moved into the tunnel. He ran the few steps and kicked out the panel of metal on the other side. Blinding sunlight filled the tunnel and he blinked, searching for the escape pod.
Nothing. His blood pounded harder. Where the fuck was it?
He coughed, the air from the atmosphere already clotting in his lungs.
There was a whirl of noise and then the black, sphere like pod pulled up front. The door slid open and Dillon stood with his arms outstretched. Ryder handed Talia over, waited as Dillon settled her in, and then climbed in after them.
They’d done it. A small smile played around his mouth as the pod shot straight up and into the atmosphere of the planet. The skin on his body went taut at the speed they moved.
“Everything go well, my friend?” Dillon asked, casting him a sideways glance.
“Very well.”
“Did the Council suspect anything?”
Ryder’s mouth twisted. “No. They were too focused on the expansion of their money accounts. In about fifteen minutes they’ll figure it out, though.”
“I imagine they’ll be fairly enraged.”
“Most likely.” Ryder glanced back at Talia. She was slumped over in the back. “But worse will come when they realize their precious Rosabelle is gone.”
“I’ll bet. Losing your personal whore can really shit on your parade.”
Ryder’s jaw clenched and he resisted the urge to defend her. But why? She was exactly that. Whore to the Governing Council that was planning an attack on his home planet. No. She didn’t need his defense. If anything she would need protection from him by the time he finished with her.
“When will we arrive on Belton, Lieutenant?”
“Approximately two hours of travel and then the half hour of detox after arrival.”
He nodded and closed his eyes. “Good. She’ll be out for at least the next five hours.”
Chapter 3
“The money has not arrived.” Ramirez glanced up from the computer, his expression worried.
“Son of a bitch.” Franklin pounded his fist into his desk, his blood pounding as he stood up. Gods, he had known from the beginning what a shit idea this was. “I told you we could not trust him. We must bring them back at once.”
“Wait.” Victor paced the floor and glanced at the hologram clock on the wall. “It is only a few minutes past the hour. Perhaps we should give him the grace of a few minutes more.”
“No, perhaps we shouldn’t,” Franklin snapped harshly. “There was never going to be any money transfer, it was all just a ruse to convince us to offer him a complimentary hour-long fuck with our property.”
“We don’t know that for certain.” Victor hesitated and looked out the window. “If we interrupt him and he becomes angry, he will likely withdraw all support.”
“You idiot, surely you cannot be that naïve,” Franklin snarled.
Gods, he regretted the day he’d signed on as one of three members in the Governing Council. Victor was often too soft, and Ramirez was growing weak as the years passed. His eyes narrowed. But that would all change soon. Being one third of the highest power just wouldn’t do anymore.
“Franklin may have a point.” Ramirez sighed and stroked his chin. “Worthington did tell us we may come get him if the transfer had not gone through.”
Franklin strode to the middle of the room. “Yes, he did. And as we speak that filthy Earthling is probably tainting our Rosabelle.”
Having to share Natalia with Victor and Ramirez was maddening as it was, but to have given her over to some filthy Earth pig brought his blood to boiling point. Natalia was his, and when the day came when he became the absolute power she would be touched by no one save him.
Already, he intended to bring her to his chamber tonight and spend time alone with her. He had not missed her reaction to the foreigner—she had been attracted to him. His fists clenched at his side. That was completely unacceptable and she needed to be punished. The blood in his cock stirred as he imagined the marks he would leave on her skin, right before he fucked her sweet ass.
“I must agree with Franklin at this point,” Ra
mirez finally agreed wearily. “We should speak with Mr. Worthington.”
“All right. We should go speak with him.” Victor nodded. “But if this deal goes bad—”
“It will not go bad.” Franklin strode toward the door, confident the other two men would follow.
He walked through the corridor, heading straight for Natalia’s chamber. Perhaps the rich Earthling should be taught a lesson in what consequences could come from lying to the Governing Council of a planet.
Franklin pressed his hand against the palm recognition security box and waited until the doors slid open. He strode into the room, but one glance around showed it was empty.
“I hear the shower running.” Ramirez spoke from behind him. “Should we wait for them to finish?”
Irritation pricked at Franklin and he swore under his breath. The last thing he wanted was to walk in on the two of them going at it. He growled and strode forward, pounding on the door.
“Mr. Worthington, we must speak to you.”
There was no answer, nor did the shower turn off.
“Mr. Worthington.” He pounded again and the door slowly swung inward. “No.”
From the gaping hole in the wall it was obvious that Alan Worthington had disappeared and taken Natalia with him.
Ramirez stepped past him and then paled. “Oh Gods, this is not good.”
Victor stood in the doorway, shaking his head but remaining silent.
“Trust the oil tycoon?” Franklin snarled and spun around, grabbing Victor’s jacket and shaking him. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”
“What we have done.” Ramirez pried him away from Victor. “We will take equal responsibility for the error in judgment.”
“Error in judgment? Talk about the understatement of the fucking millennium.” Franklin pressed his palms to his throbbing head. Gone. She was gone. There’d never been any money, and now Natalia had been taken.
Unless… His body shook and a growl or rage grew thick in his throat. Unless Natalia had left willingly, had known of the deception.
“I will send trackers to Earth to locate them.” Victor thrust a shaking hand into his hair. “We will fix this.”
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