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The woman…mermaid…whatever, had the face of an angel, innocent and more lovely than a long-awaited sunrise. Long black hair curled around her delicate shoulders and lush breasts. Her tail shone like spun glass, an irradiance of violets, yellows, greens and pinks, each scale a kaleidoscope of colors. Naked desire adorned her features as she stared at Valerian.
“Do you believe me now?” he asked.
“Yes.” The admission left Shaye on a ragged breath. Part of her wanted to sink to the twig-laden floor, curl into a ball and cry. I’ve been abducted by an Atlantean and carted to a city under the sea. The other part of her wanted to—she didn’t know what.
Another mermaid joined the brunette, a symphony of curves and colors, pressing herself against the crystal and smiling seductively at Valerian. Passion glazed her amethyst eyes. Shaye had no doubt what the two women were thinking: three-way.
“You said this is the home of the gods’ finest creations,” she said softly. Without facing him, she asked, “What kind of creature are you?” He’d already mentioned that he wasn’t human.
“I am a nymph.” His tone reeked of pride. “The nymph, actually. King of my people. Leader. Warrior.” He hesitated. “Lover.”
A nymph. Another so-called myth. A sexual being. Seductive. Irresistible. Able to give pleasure with a glance, a word. Beauty personified. Valerian fit the description perfectly, and that frightened her so much more than if he’d said he was a soul-sucking demon from the deepest depths of hell.
“I thought nymphs were…” Obsessed with sex—check. Continuously naked—close. Willing to sleep with anything that moved—probably. “Female,” she ended lamely.
He snorted and stepped closer to her. “There are females, yes, but mostly we are males.”
God, she had to get out of there. His nearness disturbed her sense of peace and reduced her to a trembling, sex-starved hormone. Already her nipples had hardened. Her stomach quivered. “Take me home, Valerian. I don’t belong here.”
He didn’t reply. The wall began to close, gradually shutting out the view of water, gradually shutting out the now infuriated mermaids banging on the crystal. Shaye covered her mouth with a shaky hand. “Please take me home.”
“Love, this is your home now. I swear to you, you will soon come to adore it as I do.”
How beguiling he sounded. His husky tone promised endless nights of passion and days of wild abandon.
Resist. Flee. More than ever, she needed the safety of numbness. She squared her shoulders and raised her chin. She would feel nothing for this man; she would be rude, completely unlikable. Sometimes that was the only way to keep someone at a distance. “I’m going home,” she said, determined. “With or without your permission.”
Before he had time to respond, she jolted into motion and sprinted toward the whirlpool. Her sandals dug into rocks and twigs. Breath caught in her throat, burning, urging her on. Almost there…just another step…
Valerian grabbed her by the arm and twirled her around.
“No!” she shouted, kicking backward.
“If you enter the portal without me, you will die.” The words held an unmistakable edge of fury. His hand tightened on her. “You will never be able to swim the length of the water alone. Do you understand? You will die out there, your body nothing more than nourishment for the fish.”
She stilled, the blood chilling in her veins. The water…how could she have forgotten the water? As if he’d shackled her wrists and ankles to the wall, she was trapped. Leave and die. Stay and…what? It didn’t matter, really. Living here held no appeal—not when she had King Pleasure to contend with.
“You can swim the distance,” she said, using her haughtiest tone. “I command you to take me home.”
“It is my greatest pleasure to give you anything and everything you request, but I cannot give you that. Anything else you desire will be yours.” He released his grip on her arm and traced his fingertip along her collarbone. “One day soon I hope it will be me that you desire.”
Red alert, red alert. She had to get away from him, had to escape that tempting wish. How? Where could she go?
“At least tell me your name,” he cajoled.
“Up yours.” The words emerged breathless, rather than insulting as she’d intended. Exquisite fire trailed the same path as his fingers, then journeyed the length of her spine. Dangerous.
A heavy pause stretched between them. All the while, Valerian radiated a sense of amusement, sadness and anger. Sadness? She frowned. Surely not. Hulking he-man warriors were never sad. Were they?
His arm curved around her waist, an impenetrable force. “Come then, Up Yours, and I will show you the palace.” He ushered her up that long, winding staircase, coarse and crudely built.
Not knowing what else to do, she followed without protest. Really, what could she say? Leave me in this cold, dank cave to rot? God, what kind of nightmare had she entered? Every second that passed became more surreal and damning than the last.
There had to be another way home; she had only to find it. Shaye studied the markings on the wall. The higher she stepped, the less jagged the rocks became. They appeared to be dusted with glitter, sparkling and inviting her to touch. Unable to resist, she brushed her fingertip over the smooth surface.
Valerian stopped abruptly. She bumped into his back and gasped at the fiery, full-body contact. As she hastily backed away, he spun around and faced her. He pushed her against the cold wall, his frown fierce, his turquoise eyes gleaming with purpose.
“Close your eyes,” he commanded.
His imposing stance didn’t frighten her. No, she struggled against a surge of excitement. Heady, blissful excitement. “Hell, no,” she said.
“That was not a request, love. That was a demand.”
“You should have taken me home when you had the chance. I’ll never do anything you say. I told you that before.”
One of his brows arched. “Keep your eyes open, then.”
She smirked. “Nice try.”
He pushed out a frustrated breath. “I do not want you to know the way back to the portal. Do not force me to blindfold you.”
“Force you? Please.” Her smirk became a glare. “I seriously doubt I could force you to do anything you didn’t already want to do. The same holds true for me. I don’t like you, I don’t trust you and you’ll never be able to bend me to your will.”
“I could have lied to you.” As he spoke, he closed the small distance between them, crowding her, eating up her personal space. But he didn’t touch her. No, he left her craving it. “I could have told you that you would go blind if you looked at the rocks. You would not have known the difference. But there will be only truth between us. No matter how harsh, I will always tell you the truth.”
Her defiance drained, and fear claimed center stage—past the kernels of desire fighting for life. His tone was so final. He truly expected her to remain here. He truly expected her to obey him. To trust him.
Valerian had said before that he and his men wanted her and the others for their bodies. Translation: sex. Were they to be sex slaves? Was she to be Valerian’s slave? Shaye’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits. She’d die first—and kill every male within reach in the process. She’d spent her childhood a slave to her parents’ edicts. Kiss your new daddy, Shaye. Give that woman my phone number, Shaye. Don’t you dare use profanity, Shaye.
She’d fought hard for her independence and would relinquish it to no one.
“Did the other women have to close their eyes?” she asked.
He ran his tongue over his teeth. “No.”
“Well, there’s your answer.”
He leaned his face close to hers, cutting away the remaining distance inch by precious inch. His warm breath caressed her face, but still he didn’t touch her. His male scent wafted deliciously. “Unlike you, the others will not try to escape.”
“I don’t know about that. The one with the curly black hair didn’t look happy to be here.”
Something dark settled over his expression.
Don’t infuriate the man. No telling what he’ll do. “What if I promise not to try and escape?” She didn’t plan to try, she planned to succeed.
“I would laugh at such a blatant untruth and then scold you for lying to your man.”
“You are not my man!”
“Not yet.” But I will be echoed between them, unsaid, yet powerful nonetheless.
“Not ever,” she said through clenched teeth.
His brow puckered, confusion settling over his beautiful features. “You continue to amaze me. How are you able to resist me with such fervor?”
Was she resisting him? She didn’t know. She’d never felt so…needy. Even now, when defiance beat hard fists through her, her heart pounded, her skin stretched too tight. His heat slithered over her, inside her, shattering and chipping away at the ice she prized. Her nipples still reached for him. Her legs parted slightly, inviting an intimate glide, a hard press. Just…inviting.
His nostrils flared as if he sensed her growing arousal. If he moved another inch, he’d mesh himself fully against her. Finally. Part of her screamed in protest, part of her trembled in welcome.
“I want to touch you and kiss you, love, and feel—”
“No!” she shouted. “No kissing. No touching. And for God’s sake, stop calling me ‘love.’” But, oh, the thought of his lips feasting on hers was heady. “I don’t know you, and like I said, I damn sure don’t like you. You abducted me. You deserve jail time, not a makeout session.”
“I can make you like me.” He braced his palms on each side of her head, trapping her in a hard, muscled circle, touching her hair but not her skin. “Oh, I can make you.”
The truth of his claim shimmered between them unmercifully. Because deep down, she admitted that with every second that passed, she liked him more. She wanted him more. Wanted that skin-to-skin contact he was denying her. Was he doing it on purpose? Making her desperate for something she couldn’t have?
Idiot! Shaye didn’t need a lot of experience with men to know she dangled on a precarious edge. If he pushed, she would crumble. She would take the momentary pleasure he offered and be glad for it. But in the taking, she would be no better than the others, forgetting his atrocious crime and throwing herself at his sexy feet.
She’d be one of those pathetic creatures who did anything for pleasure, everything for love. Just like her mom.
Make him despise you. Hurt him. Now! Determined, she jerked up her knee. He anticipated the action and jumped backward, out of striking distance. His mouth thinned and firmed.
“I warn you now.” He met her gaze, otherworldly blue against plain brown. Determination against determination. “Fight me if you must, but do not attempt escape. I will punish you, have no doubt.”
She forced herself to snort. “I haven’t begun to fight. And what the hell do you mean, you’ll punish me?” The fury she didn’t have to force. It increased with every word she uttered. “A little while ago you said you could never hurt me.”
“There are ways to punish a woman that will not physically hurt her.”
“And I bet you know every one of them, you sick pervert.”
He released a long, frustrated sigh. “We have not the time to fight right now. Come. I will show you Atlantis before we meet with the others.” Reaching out, he offered her his hand.
She stared at his blunt-tipped fingers, at the calluses and scars slashed across his palm, a contrast to his perfect beauty. As she stared, her anger drained. Total strength lay there, dormant now, but ready to kill at any moment. Except…he could have crushed her with those hands at any time. He’d shown her nothing but gentleness.
Foolish woman, she chided, placing her hand in his. Of course he hasn’t hurt you. He needs a healthy sex slave. His fingers intertwined with hers. At the moment of contact, dark, erotic pulses tingled through her. They’d touched before, and each time had elicited sparks. But this time…it was more intense. A deeper awareness in this skin-to-skin contact she’d wanted so badly but hadn’t wanted to want. Gasping, she tried to tug away from him, to sever the connection. He held tight.
“Mine,” he said.
She bit the inside of her cheek against the pleasure that one declaration wrought. “I don’t understand any of this. I don’t understand you.”
“You will. In time.”
The dire words—warning? promise?—rang in her head as she climbed the rest of the wooden stairs. At the top, two gleaming crystal doors were held open by giant rubies. Jeweled doorstops?
Curiosity got the better of her. “Why do you have the entrance propped open like that?”
“A dragon medallion is needed to open and close the doorways, and I do not wish to wear anything belonging to a dragon.” He spat the word dragon as if it was a foul curse.
What kind of response could she offer to that?
He tossed a frown over his shoulder. “And you had better not try to search for a medallion. If you do, you will be punished.”
“Will I be punished for breathing?” she snapped. He seemed to be looking for an excuse to punish her.
“If it is done in the direction of another man, yes.” The warning was serious, though the tone lacked true heat.
“Pig.”
“Lover.”
“Bastard.”
He flicked another glance over his shoulder. This time his lips were curled in a wicked half smile, and knowing intent sizzled in his eyes like blue fire. “Say that while we’re naked. I dare you.”
She gulped and tore her attention away from him. A smart woman would have been memorizing her surroundings for possible escape routes instead of antagonizing (aka drooling over) her captor.
Shaye forced herself to act like a smart woman. Down a long, winding hallway they strode, the walls jagged once again and completely barren, offering no distinguishing marks to help her find her way back. They turned left. Left again. Right. Left. Right. They bypassed several open doorways, but they moved so quickly she had no chance to peek inside. The sound of their footsteps echoed throughout the hall.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“My bedchamber.”
“Your what?” Mouth opening and closing, she dug her sandy, squishy sandals into the marble floor. “Hell, no. Hell. No.”
He could have dragged her along, but he stopped and faced her. His luscious mouth twitched in amusement. “We will not make love tonight unless you beg me for it. Does that appease this sudden fear you have of my room?”
“No,” she gritted out.
“I wish only to show you the Outer City from my window.” He sighed another of those long, drawn-out exhalations. “Unfortunately there is not time for anything more.”
Glaring, she anchored her hands on her hips. “You’re lying. Your kind always has time for sex.”
“My kind?” The smile quickly faded from his face. “By that I hope you mean the honest kind. I vowed never to lie to you, and I will not. My honor demands nothing less. I said I will not touch you tonight until you beg for it, so that is the way it will be.”
Shaye didn’t allow his fervent vow to sway her. Even if he kept his word and kept his hands to himself, they would be near a bed. Most likely a decadent, made-forsin bed. What if she saw it, lost her will to resist, and made a pass at him? “Your honor doesn’t mean shit to me. I’m not going to your bedroom.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. An inferno blazed in his eyes, a churning tempest of blues. From cerulean to azure to the palest violet. “Very well,” he said, each syllable precise. “We will not steal a moment for ourselves. We will join the others. I can only hope your prudish nature will prevent my men from choosing you.”
“Choosing me for what?” she bit out, ignoring the “prudish” comment. She suspected the answer, and she almost screamed when it came.
His brows arched, and his lips dipped downward. “For their bedmate, of course.”
Chapter Six
VALERIAN HAD TO CARRY his intended mate to the dining hall. Something he enjoyed immensely, even though she kicked and shouted profanities the entire way. Her breasts pressed into his back, her legs draped over his stomach.
He grinned. Oh, but he liked this woman’s spirit. How amusing she was. He only wished he knew her name. Up Yours, indeed. She refused to tell him the truth, and that he didn’t like. He hadn’t cared before, with other women, but knowing this one’s name seemed necessary for his survival.
