Pitch black had settled in outside. With it, a deep, biting cold swirled into the cave.
She really should put out the fire.
But it was so warm and friendly. And Anya felt so alone.
Put it out. It was time to get going. Although the cave entrance was partially blocked, someone at the perfect angle might see the light. Maybe that one, last, persistent pilot—although she hadn’t heard the craft since noon. He must have given up, too. For now.
Unfolding her trowel, Anya chipped up a mound of frozen ice and mud and cast it onto the fire. It flickered, but didn’t go out.
“Don’t put it out on my account.”
The low, rough voice made her gasp, and she whipped out her laser.
Joshua.
He seemed to fill the entrance. The elite, cream military parka made his shoulders seem wider, his body more solid and forbidding.
“You.” Hands trembling, she lowered the weapon.
“Of course it’s me. I’m your protector, foolish girl. Who did you think would come for you?”
Palpable fury simmered in him, deep and hot, yet tightly leashed, as were every one of his emotions, always. In the past, she had wished that just once she could break through the impenetrable shell he enclosed around himself. Just once, she’d like to see him snap, to glimpse the true man underneath all the medals and the power that fit him like a glove. To especially see beyond the shiny honor of hero worship with which she’d clothed him when they had first met. She had always wanted to please him.
No more.
Also by Jennette Green
The Commander’s Desire
Her Reluctant Bodyguard
Murder by Nightmare
(a novelette)
Ice Chronicles One
Ice
Baron
Jennette Green
Diamond Press
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ICE BARON
A Diamond Press book / published in arrangement with the author
Copyright © 2011 by Jennette Green
Cover design Copyright 2011 © by Diamond Press
All rights reserved.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Scripture quotation taken from the New American Standard Bible®,
Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973,
1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation .
Used by permission. (www.Lockman.org)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2011932402
Library of Congress Subject Headings:
Love stories
Romance fiction
Futuristic romance
Science fiction
Man-woman relationships—Fiction
Diamond Press
3400 Pegasus Drive
P.O. Box 80043
Bakersfield CA 93380-0043
www.diamondpresspublishing.com
Published in the United States of America.
“Have I not commanded you?
Be strong and courageous!
Do not tremble or be dismayed,
for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”
JOSHUA 1:9 NASB
Contents
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
Author’s Note
PROLOGUE
Former Kazakhstan
Astana, Donetsk Territory, year 3145 a.d.
(Millennial Ice Age, caused by Nuclear holocaust)
Anya pressed her forehead to the cool, curved window of the school library and looked down at the earth, a kilometer below. She felt safe here, although she was no longer a child. Unfortunately, the feeling of peace was an illusion. Soon her protector, the current Baron of Donetsk Territory, would find her and she would have to face her future.
If only she could escape. If only she could ride down the slender metal umbilical cord elevator which anchored the sky city of Astana to earth, and flee what was coming.
The glass felt cool against her skin, and the room behind her lay silent, as it was nearly time for supper. Quiet, too, was the vast wasteland of ice and snow which stretched out as far as her eyes could see—land that had been ruled by her family, the Dubrovnyks, until her father had died ten years ago. The frosty view remained the same all year round. Spring and summer were too cold to melt the snow. On a clear day, she could see the great Tien Shan mountain range far to the south. Her uncle lived south of the Tien Shan, and her territory had been engaged in a bloody war with his for her entire life. To the east, Donetsk Territory fought a different, but equally vicious war with Altai Territory. Altai’s leader, Onred, was Astana’s special guest this weekend.
“Anya.” Joshua’s deep, quiet voice startled her.
She drew a dismayed breath.
Footfalls noiseless, Joshua Van Heisman appeared by her side. Her nerves prickled up in awareness of him. Nostrils faintly flaring, she surreptitiously inhaled, savoring the clean scent of his pressed uniform, and the warm, faintly spicy scent of his skin. His physical presence, as always, filled Anya’s senses. She was always aware of him—too aware of him. She didn’t have to look to see how his solid, muscular shoulders filled out his cream baron’s uniform. Also etched forever into her mind were his tanned skin, flashing white teeth, and his barely tamed tawny hair, which was the exact color of the extinct lion.
In her mind, he was her lion. He had been her protector since she was thirteen, and he’d been the interim Baron of Donetsk Territory ever since her father had died. She had hero-worshipped him with all of her devastated young heart at thirteen, after losing both of her parents. Now, at twenty-three, his close presence made her feel something entirely different…something completely forbidden. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She had always wanted to make him proud of her, but this…
With a determined turn to her head, she met his gaze. His dark eyes were devoid of their usual warmth, and were instead a commanding brown. Not a good sign. He’d come to give her orders, and she was to obey—for the peace of Donetsk Territory. To save tens of thousands of lives.
“It is decided.” His voice sounded impersonal. “Onred has agreed to take you as his bride, for peace. The bride price is set.”
Only Joshua’s steady gaze kept her knees firm, and prevented her from bolting f
rom the room in sickened horror. Onred made her flesh creep. When she had met him this afternoon, he had been polite, and had bowed over her hand with great chivalry. But she didn’t trust the bloodthirsty baron.
Anya wondered briefly if this was a horrible nightmare. It couldn’t be happening. And yet she had known it would happen. Her fate had been set. And if she wanted to forge a peace that would save the lives of thousands of her citizens, she would agree to marry Onred.
Joshua’s gaze continued to hold hers. The force and strength of his personality shored up her horrified, collapsing dreams. It felt like her very soul was shattering. As if she had been ordered to marry the devil.
“I can’t,” she breathed. It was unlike her to flounder, but her world was imploding. Joshua was ejecting her from his life. She would have to abandon her brothers and sisters and live in Onred’s capitol city of Bogd for the rest of her life. Tears threatened. “I can’t.”
Joshua’s strong, steady hand closed around her upper arm. “You must. For the peace of Donetsk Territory.”
Silently, she stared at him. Did she have a choice?
Under the Old Barons’ Law, the answer would be no. Joshua’s order alone, as Baron of Donetsk Territory, would be enough to seal her fate. But Joshua had come to seek her compliance…or maybe this was only a token gesture. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Had he already accepted the bride payment? Although the bride price was largely a symbolic gesture, if Joshua had accepted the payment, it would mean that both the marriage and peace contracts were already signed. It would mean that she already belonged to Onred in all ways except for one. The marriage ceremony would put the last, pretty flourish on the contracts, finishing the vow before God, and sealing the peace agreement for the rest of her life. And it would grant Onred his final right—conjugal visits. Panic beat in her breast. Surely Joshua hadn’t accepted the bride price. Not without talking to her first.
She managed, “Have you…accepted it?”
“No.”
Her swift feeling of relief didn’t last long. A decision still needed to be made. She wondered what would happen if she refused to accept her duty.
Joshua watched her intently, as if able to read into her soul—an uncomfortable, perceptive quality that she had rued as a teenager. His grip on her arm gentled. “You are a brave woman, Anya. And I know that with you in Altai Territory, I can trust a permanent peace with Onred.”
Of course, Anya wanted to protect her people from Onred’s bloody hordes, and to save thousands of lives. And she wanted to make Joshua proud. But more than any of that, she wanted her life to have meaning and purpose. She was a Dubrovnyk. Her family had ruled Donetsk Territory for almost two hundred years.
She must give her life to serve the territory. If marrying Onred was her fate, then so be it.
Unfortunately, although her mouth opened and closed, she could not choke out the words to accept her fate.
His grip tightened when the silence uncomfortably lengthened. Voice a gravel rasp, he said, “Do you understand?”
So, it was an order after all. She was to be given no choice.
Mutely, she stared at him, in silence accepting her duty, although her very soul revolted against it.
Something bleak and black flashed in Joshua’s eyes, and then vanished. “Good.” Another silent moment passed, and she sensed conflict waging within him. But when his fingers released her arm, she felt his emotional withdrawal at the same time he stepped back. “I am proud of you, Anya.”
When he strode from the room, leaving her behind, Anya’s heart felt like it crumbled to nothing.
CHAPTER ONE
Astana
Lunch, the next afternoon
Anya Dubrovnyk eyed her future husband across the lavishly appointed banquet table. She hated him. Everything about Onred Stoystiya—from his beard, trimmed into a pointy goatee, to his dark hair, shorn so short that the middle-aged thinning at his crown was obvious. Most especially, though, she despised the territory baron’s black eyes, in which festered greed and lust.
“Good one, Joshua!” Laughter boomed from Onred’s barrel chest. It appeared he appreciated her protector’s dry witticism. It was a lie, as was everything about him. An hour ago Anya had learned, to her horror, that a demon lived in Onred’s black soul. He had proven it in a dead-end hallway, where he had cornered her with a chilling leer. He had said that he had already bought and paid for her. Now she was his. Those had been the longest, most degrading moments of her life. She felt soiled and devastated, and wanted a shower. But nothing could cleanse her mind.
Joshua Van Heisman did not seem to realize what a snake he entertained under his roof. That was because he focused only upon peace. Thousands of men had died last year at the hands of Onred’s bloodthirsty forces. Last night, Joshua had publicly accepted the bride price and ruled that Anya—as the deceased baron’s oldest daughter and his only legal heir according to the Old Barons’ Law—would marry and form an alliance with the Altai territory lord, Onred.
Peace on their eastern, mountainous border would finally ensue. However, the bloody skirmishes to the south, with her uncle, would continue.
Joshua’s gaze sought Anya’s; probably wondering why she didn’t smile. Keeping her features purposefully expressionless, she stabbed her fork tines into the red berry cobbler and twisted it, shredding the chef’s perfect arrangement. Forget Joshua. After all, for all intents and purposes, he had sold her to Onred last night. He had purchased his peace, and had forced her into a betrothal with the very devil himself. Even worse, he was unwilling to reconsider the matter. Before lunch, when with a trembling voice she had tried to explain to him that she could not marry Onred, he had brusquely dismissed her concerns as nerves, and strode off without listening further. It had stunned her that her wishes meant nothing to him.
Had they ever? She bit the inside of her mouth to prevent unwanted tears.
What a fool she had been, and for so long. She had always totally believed in Joshua and trusted him. He had been honored and respected by her father, to whom bone-deep respect had not come easily—after all, Joshua had been young, at twenty-three, when he’d been promoted to second-in-command. And when her parents were murdered when she was thirteen, Joshua had become protector to Anya and her siblings, and shortly afterward promoted to baron.
Anya had always believed that Joshua was special, although she’d always known that her aching hero-worship of him could never grow into anything more. Protectors and their charges were forbidden to commit the mortal sin of romantic involvement. Punishment, through the Old Barons’ Law, was swift, terrible, and irrevocable—for both parties.
In her secret heart, though, Anya had always adored Joshua. He was brilliant and fair-minded, and wore his role of command easily, as if it were a natural part of him. He knew who he was. But his eyes were what had caught her fancy at that young age. Those changeable eyes. Velvet brown most of the time, or a warm, rich tawny color when he laughed, or when he tried to mask deep emotion. Kind eyes, she had thought then.
And he had been kind to her and her siblings. He had also been a little distant, prodding, and challenging…especially to her. As the eldest child, she had taken on the mother role to the younger children. Joshua had approved, and had even expected her efforts. Once, he had told her that she’d done a good job. Anya had held that bit of praise close to her heart for a long time.
Anya cast Joshua another expressionless glance. Yes, she had always thought Joshua was quite perfect. These last twelve hours, of course, had proven something altogether different.
A giggle caught her attention. Marli, her youngest sister, whispered to Onred’s daughter. Marli was eleven, Emelie fifteen. Onred’s daughter appeared to be a very serious girl. She wore gobs of black eye make-up, which unfortunately brought to mind a raccoon, rather than a beautiful young girl. Her hair was bleached white. Never once had Anya seen her smile. Secretly, she wondered if the girl was lonely. The teenage years were hard without
a mother, as Anya well knew.
Marli seemed to like Emelie. Anya’s sunny sister had spent the last two days dragging her new friend all over their sky city of Astana, trying to impress her. However, the city’s many technological innovations appeared to be the only things which sparked Emelie’s interest—especially the new DiaMoRCs (diamonite morphing resculpting compounds). Anya was lucky enough to enjoy a prototype in her compartment. Unfortunately, she had been alarmed to catch Marli demonstrating its abilities to Emelie this morning. It had been too late to stop the demonstration.
The Altai girl had watched in amazement as a graceful, potted red orchid had melted into a shimmering gray ball, and then reformed, sprouting four long legs and a circular table top. Marli had evidently typed “various” colors into the diamonite remote, for the tiny diamonite silicon chips had shockingly transformed the gray table top to look like a rainbow swirled lollipop. With an eye roll, Anya had shooed them out, pretending the incident meant nothing. In truth, she had been deeply concerned, since she was certain that their Altai enemies weren’t supposed to know about the new invention.
It was on her way to apprise Joshua of the situation that Onred had waylaid her. His request had been reasonable; to walk with him so they could become better acquainted. Against her better instincts, Anya had agreed. And then he had trapped her in that quiet, dead-end hallway, and muffled her screams with his meaty hand.
Onred now pushed back his chair. It squeaked alarmingly, probably because of the extra stone of weight around his middle. His thick tongue flicked out and ran over his lips, catching the last crumbs of the cobbler. Squashing his linen napkin into the table, he lumbered to his feet. “Thank you for your hospitality, Joshua.” He shook her protector’s hand and then bowed to Anya, pretending chivalry. “I will see you soon, my dear. Emelie, it’s time to go.”
Ice Baron (Ice Chronicles, Book One (science fiction romance)) Page 1
