Born of Defiance (5 page)

She sniffed back her tears at his honest concern for her. “No. I found the presents you left.… Thank you.”

“My pleasure. I hope you like them.”

“They're wonderful. I just wish you were here for me to thank you in person.”

“You don't have to do that. I only want you to enjoy them, not feel obligated because of them. They are freely given.… Beautiful females deserve beautiful things.”

Felicia closed her eyes as she savored those precious words. “You're very sweet.”

He snorted. “Don't say that out loud. You'll ruin my ferocious reputation.”

Laughing, she shook her head. “Ferocious, huh?”

“Absolutely. How you think I got my rank at this age?”

“Your sexy sweetness?”

His warm laughter filled her ear. “Yeah, sure,” he said drily. “That always works for rank advancement. You sweet-talk the enemy. They fall over, laughing at you.”

“See. I knew it.” She switched on the video feed and waited for him to accept it or deny her request. To her delight, he turned it on. From the looks of it, he was riding an airbike through traffic. All she could see was his helmeted head and the sky over his shoulders, until he lightened the shield on his helmet so that his handsome face was showing through it. “Is there really no way for me to see you sooner than five days?”

“Between training and work, no. They keep a really tight leash on me.”

Funny how that was what she'd wanted in a patron, especially after her friends had told her what a beast he was. Now … “Can I come visit you at work?”

“This is my normal lunch time. I have an hour and a half for it.”

“What about dinner?”

“I only have fifteen to thirty minutes for that.”

She pouted at him. “That's not long.” Barely enough time to eat anything at all.

“It comes at shift change when I'm on duty, and the married soldiers take precedence over those of us without. The rest of the time, I have to catch something fast at the gym before practice.”

“Oh.” She tried to imagine what his life was like. To protect his privacy, there hadn't been much on his profile sheet. While the agency saw the full family, psychological, and financial forms he'd submitted, they only gave companions part of the personality portion to evaluate.

She hadn't even known his family name until they signed the contract. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“No. You?”

She bit her lip. “I had three half brothers and two half sisters, but we're not close. It's mostly me and my mother.”

“Same here.”

That made sense then as to why he was so concerned for her safety. He must look after his mom like she did hers. “So what does your mother do?” she asked.

“She's a deputy commander for the armada.”

Wow, that was impressive. “Your CO?”

“No. I'm a fighter pilot. She works at the palace. Protective detail. I've been trying to get into a command or palace assignment for the last two years, but they keep turning me down.”

“Why?”

“I'm a bastard, Felicia,” he said simply. “In more ways than one. They don't think I'm worth much, except as Tavali fodder.”

“They would be very wrong.”

Talyn swallowed hard as those words touched him in a place he hadn't known he had. Kind of felt like a kick to his stomach. Only it hurt worse.

Weird.

He offered her a smile. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.” He traced the line of her jaw over the screen on his bike, wishing he could have stayed longer with her. “So what does your mother do?”

“She's a companion trainer.”

“Hey,” he chided her. “Don't do that.”

“Do what?”

“Look ashamed. Ever. You're a beautiful female, Felicia. The most beautiful one I've ever seen. More than that, you have a soul. I don't ever want to see you hold your head down again. You don't apologize to anyone for who and what you are.”

Felicia smiled as his words touched her much deeper than they should have. The one thing they'd drilled into her during training was not to fall for her patron. To keep everything professional and on a business level. But it was hard to do that with a male who made her feel like an Andarion princess. “You're not as bashful as you pretend to be, are you?”

“Just around you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Not used to conversing with others. Especially young females, unless they're in uniform. Then, we only speak when relaying or issuing orders. I'm not sure what to say to you, really.”

She looked away as the doorbell rang.

“That's the manager, I'm sure.”

“Oh.” She hated to leave him so soon. “Can I have lunch with you tomorrow?”

“Sure. I'd like that. I'll e-mail you the address.”

“Okay. I'll see you then.” She turned the link off and kissed it, wishing it was him.

Stop it, Felicia! Keep this professional.

He wasn't her boyfriend. Talyn was a patron. He could and would never be anything more than the male who paid for her services. That was it.

Her gaze fell to his card.

Your happiness, safety, and comfort are my priority.

Professional. Always. His happiness and comfort were
her
priority. That was what he was paying her for. And she would keep her heart out of this. No matter what.

*   *   *

Felicia wasn't sure what she'd been thinking when she'd asked to meet with Talyn for lunch. The fortified Anatole military base was extremely off-putting and a little scary. The guards at the gate had all but strip-searched her before she was admitted here.

And they'd interrogated her like a prisoner of war.

Worse were the number of curious stares she collected as she stood surrounded by three giant guards in the humongous hangar bay of fighters and military transports. She couldn't stand being the center of anyone's attention.

There were pilots and ground crew bustling all around. It wasn't until a red and black fighter landed and she saw Talyn's name on it, above his call sign, Pit Viper, that she realized he'd been out on maneuvers.

Her heart pounded as she watched him climb down from the cockpit of his fighter. His red and black flightsuit and jacket clung to his muscled body. He paused to sign an e-ledger from one of the ground crew before he pulled his helmet off and approached her with an adorably bashful half grin that seemed completely out of character with his lethal persona.

A half grin that turned into a stern countenance as he stopped in front of the soldiers with her. “I'll take it from here.”

They saluted him, then left.

“Do I salute you, too?”

He leaned down to press his cheek to hers. “Only if you want to.” Pulling back from her, he called one of the crew over to him and handed his helmet to the male. “Could you put that in my locker?”

“Yes, sir.” The crewman saluted him.

Talyn returned the salute before he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and led her toward the base's entrance. “There's a small deli and Andarion, Ritadarion, and Kirovarian restaurants close by. What would you like?”

She tried not to focus on how taut and large the muscle of his arm was. Dang, he looked simply edible in that flight suit.

Her face flushed as she realized he was waiting for her to answer his question. But what she really wanted to snack on wasn't one of her choices.

She glanced down at his backside. Yeah, major rump roast would definitely be more appealing to her than anything he'd named.

Felicia! Stop!

“Um, I've never tried Ritadarion before. Is it good?”

“Yes, but spicy.”

“I love spicy.”

“Then Rit it is. However, it's not quite walking distance.” He led her into a transport locker.

Which she was fine with until he stopped beside a sleek, expensive airbike. That must have been what he was riding when she last spoke to him. “You're kidding, right?”

He glanced about with an adorable baffled expression. “I don't think so.” Then his look turned playful. “Don't tell me you're scared.”

Felicia swallowed hard. “I have
never
ridden one of those before, and I've been quite happy and healthy that way. Maybe we should go someplace we can walk to?”

Now that was the most charming smile any male had ever given a female in the entire history of Andaria. No doubt that had gotten him out of many punishments with his mother. “C'mon. Try it. You know you want to. I won't let you get hurt, I promise. If I go too fast or you get scared even a little bit, squeeze my stomach and I'll slow down instantly.”

Biting her lip, she debated the sanity of this.

“I'm a fighter pilot, Felicia. Almost three years now. Thousands of hours logged. Countless dogfights with the Tavali and Gourans.”

“How many times have you crashed?”

“Never.”

That made her feel better. “Okay, but remember, you have to pay for all medical treatments that result from any injury I sustain as a direct result of your actions.”

Laughing, he shrugged his flight jacket off and wrapped it around her.

She staggered from the weight of the “light” armor. Not to mention, it swallowed her completely, and gave her a whole new appreciation for how strong he had to be to move so effortlessly in it. Grinning like a child who'd won a game, he pulled two helmets out of the seat and handed her one before he put his on.

Still not sure she should do this, she watched as he slung one incredibly long leg over the bike and pressed his hand to the bio sensor to start the engine.

With a deep breath for courage, she straddled the bike and took her seat. The way it was cut, it intimately pressed her body against his, and her legs were tucked beneath his buttocks. Wicked, warm fantasies tormented her at their close proximity and the wall of hard muscle that made up his luscious body.

Yeah, okay, this was nice. Smiling in pleasure, she slid her arms around his lean waist and sucked her breath in sharply at how solid he was. How good it felt to hold him.

He looked at her over his shoulder. “I'm about to lift us. Remember, if you get scared at all, just tighten your arms or tell me and I'll slow down to a crawl.”

“Okay. I'm ready.”

He gently rubbed her hands with his before he leaned forward and hit the lifters.

Her stomach sank at the sensation, but his skill was superb as he navigated them from the locker, into traffic.

“You all right back there?”

“I am. It is kind of fun, isn't it?”

He turned right. “Absolutely. I'll make a pilot of you yet.”

She wasn't so sure about that. Unlike him, she didn't thrive on danger.

Boring … that was her sweet spot. And she rather liked it that way.

A few minutes later, he landed in a parking space outside a small caf
é
and helped her dismount. While his features held their usual stern expression, there was a childlike gleam in his eyes that made him even more adorable.

“You like to live on the edge, don't you?”

He secured their helmets and the airbike. “Extreme sports appeal to me.”

And that made her nervous again. Did that include bedroom activities, too? He was so strong and massive, he could easily snap her bones without any effort. One hit from him, and she'd be dead.…

Violent and merciless, the Iron Hammer dominates the Ring like no other fighter in history. He's the one fighter the others unanimously fear facing. We have it on good authority that several have even gone into seizures after their managers told them they'd been contracted to fight him.

He paused as he looked at her. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Talyn hesitated. In spite of her response, she was obviously upset. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No. It's all good.”

But it wasn't. And that made him ache deep inside. Was it his birth standing?

That made sense. It was the most common thing held against him by the world. And it was why he refused to give interviews. First question was invariably about lineage, then next how his parents felt about his fighting record. Whenever he answered that he had no father, it made them gasp and step back like he was a disease carrier. The second evoked pity, and he hated that most of all.

So he'd learned to keep himself isolated and avoid or deflect awkward questions like a crotch plague. He'd hoped a companion wouldn't make him have to tiptoe through land mines and guard every word he spoke.

Obviously, he'd been wrong.
You know better than to speak to others, dumbass. How stupid are you that you can't ever be taught?

Why had he thought anything could change? That she, a paid companion, wouldn't be bothered by his social standing? If he'd learned anything in life it should be that his sheer force of will didn't matter for Andarion shite. In the eyes of his race, he was garbage and that was all he'd ever be.

Feeling daunted, he withdrew into himself and put more space between them. Fuck it. He couldn't change their culture.

Or her mind or morals.

Lesson learned. He'd just get through this meal in as much silence as he could manage, and return to base. Let her live out the next six months in his condo, and then he could go back to what he knew.

What he was used to.

She took his jacket off and handed it to him. No doubt, she didn't want it touching her skin and contaminating her. Heartsick, he shrugged it on, and gestured toward the caf
é
door.

Felicia hesitated, wondering about his suddenly withdrawn mood. He was very reserved and stern now. Quiet. Even more so than when he'd been waiting for her at the agency. Did he have a chemical imbalance?

A little frightened by his unwarranted somber mood, she entered the small caf
é
first, and immediately noticed how many Andarions cut Talyn a wide berth. He paid them no attention as he sat her toward the back.