Ghost in Her Heart (19 page)

That wasn’t the worst of it, though. In the
absence of women, Nikon’s men had turned to each other. Though he
was careful not to speak publicly about it, it was well known that
Nikon opposed it, though it would cost him his kingdom to try to
reform it without bringing in more women. Rumor even had it that
his rule was a shaky one, growing more difficult by the day.
Already he’d weathered several assassination attempts. Guarantees
from him under those circumstances would be hard to accept.

There was one card Dagon could play,
hopefully one Nikon would recognize. He knew enough of Nikon to
realize that he was not like his father or grandfather. He’d been
fighting for change in a corrupt system for years now, gathering
men around him who felt the same. With a leader like that, a small
core of men could hold a line of defense against the whoremongers,
though it would mean fighting their entire nation to keep any women
Dagon might give him.

If Dagon did authorize his men to steal more
women from Earth for Nikon, he would demand that Nikon set himself
apart and fight that war if necessary. Nothing less than a blood
oath would convince him that Nikon meant to protect his women.

There was, off course, one other thing he
could suggest, but he had his doubts that Nikon would go for it.
Men born to power were reluctant to give it up, and he couldn’t see
Nikon walking away from an empire built on his ancestor’s sweat and
blood.

The course of a nation might be decided on
their coming interview.

They’d reached the locker room. Shaking off
his dark thoughts, Dagon shed his clothes and followed Kynan into
the steam room, praying it would help to settle him until he could
hold his wife again.

***

“Congratulations, Tzara. There’s no more
trace of the virus in your system.”

Vana grinned at the jubilant medic and
turned, plastering a big kiss on Dagon’s relieved face. “See? Now
the next time I want to stay up late working on a project, you’re
going to cheer me on, aren’t you?”

He laughed and pulled her close for a longer
kiss. “I’ll move our bed in there if I have to.” Conscious of the
celebrating medics, he put his arm around her and escorted her from
the room, eager to have her alone. In spite of his desire, though,
he grinned proudly at the men and women lining the hallway,
cheering and clapping their Tzara’s triumph.

Vana laughed and waved as people threw flower
petals, as teary-eyed as some of the grateful men saluting her.
Though the women understood what she’d done, none of them felt it
to the depths as did the men who’d been saved from extinction. To
them, she’d saved their very future, and there would never be a day
when she’d lack for reverence and fierce devotion. The fact that
she already carried their Tzar’s daughter nearly elevated her the
status of saint. Had their society not been so rigidly
paternalistically religious and based on a single deity, she might
even have been worshiped; their adoration was that strong. Many
generations later, she would still be known as the Queen Mother,
the salvation of their race.

None of that mattered to Vana just then. All
she wanted was Dagon in her arms, and by the dark fire in his eyes,
she was going to get her wish with interest.

The moment their door closed behind them,
Dagon flattened her against it and devoured her mouth. His hands
were everywhere, ripping fabric rather than bother with stubborn
fasteners.

“Dagon!” she gasped with surprise, astonished
by his haste.

Instead of answering, he covered her mouth
with his and kissed her long and deep until she was with him again,
as impatient as he. In seconds she was moaning, straining toward
him, and he gave her what they both yearned for. Loosening his
pants, he parted her legs and took her right there against the
door, ignoring the faint rattle of the massive doors against the
frame. Her moans only drove him on, and as his knees grew weak with
pleasure, he wrapped her legs around him and carried her to toward
the bed. They got as far the floor cushions before the heat
consumed him. Giving up, he laid her down on the softness and rode
her to paradise. Their journey culminated in a burst of white heat
that tore cries from both their throats.

Dazed by the pleasure, it was several moments
before Vana could stir enough to comment weakly, “Wow. I think you
missed me.”

His short laugh shook both their bodies.
“What was your first clue?”

Lazily stroking his back, she grinned against
his chest as she felt his body rise for another round. “I don’t
know. I had a feeling after you shredded my clothes that…oh….” she
arched, suddenly uninterested in banter as he flexed inside
her.

The second loving was longer, slower, though
no less powerful. Halfway through they moved to the bed, and she
lay there in the afterglow, drowsy with pleasure. “I think I’m
going to have to get sick more often, if this is the welcome home I
get.”

Unamused, Dagon sat up. “Don’t say that.
Don’t ever do that to me again.”

The anguish on his face made her instantly
sorry. Stroking his cheek, she murmured, “I’m sorry, love. Humor
helped me to get through this. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Taking a deep breathing, he nodded shortly
and lay back down, gathering her tightly to his chest. “It’s been a
nightmare,
adajah
. You’ve no idea—” he swallowed.

Struggling upward against his hold, she was
finally able to see his glittering eyes. She cupped his face,
kissing his mouth before touching her forehead to his cheek.
“Forgive me for worrying you, then, love. I was scared, too.”
Hidden from his view, she managed a wobbly smile. “I knew how much
I was gambling on that tree.” She winced, reminded of the nasty
juice. “I just wish the medicine was easier to swallow.”

He positioned her so he could see her face.
“You’ll take it every morning without fail. I’m thinking of making
it a law.”

She laughed. “Oh, the women would lynch me
for that. Thanks a lot.”

Dagon grunted in reluctant amusement. “They
should kiss the ground you walk on. My men will, forever.”

Smiling at the thought of sainthood, Vana
snuggled back down and yawned. “That could get embarrassing. Tell
them to stick with throwing flower petals. On second thought, nix
that. The janitors won’t be happy with them, and the gardeners
would have my head.” Still mulling over silly thank yous, she
closed her eyes and slowly drifted into sleep.

***

Dagon broke the news about Nikon to her after
she’d had a few days to relax. He wasn’t happy to see the frown
that drew her brows together, but she took it more calmly than he
expected.

As so often happened, the discussion took
place over a meal, eaten in the privacy of their room. He waited
for Vana to relax and recline on the pillows around the low table,
but she’d never overcome her culture’s tendency to sit upright
during a meal. In lieu of that, he waited until her expression
softened into tranquil enjoyment before explaining the
situation.

She looked at him thoughtfully as she slowly
finished a piece of fruit, seemingly deep in thought. “You’ve
obviously put a lot of effort into safeguarding any women you might
put in his way. Thank you for that. I wish you’d make it a
condition that he defect first, though.”

“I can’t. Such an uncompromising condition
might move him to agree, only to later return to his own people out
of spite. I can’t force his hand—it must be his choice.“ Surprised
by her calm, Dagon studied her, looking for warning signs. “You’re
not objecting to bringing more women here. Why?”

She looked aside and took a deep breath. “I
don’t like it, I don’t want to see it happen, and I think it’s
horrible to barter with women you’ll have to steal first.
Unfortunately, I can’t stop you, can I?” She looked at him almost
challengingly, anger and fierce strength simmering just under her
surface.

He met her gaze, his own implacable. Some
things were beyond even her power to change. “No.”

Her jaw set. “So I’ve learned to choose my
battles. If I can’t stop you from doing this, I can at least
influence you to give the women every chance for a happy life.”

“Like I gave you?” he asked softly, letting
her see the deep affection and love in his eyes.

The atmosphere softened, and she dropped her
gaze. “We got lucky.”

“Kynan and Kelsa were also fortunate, as were
Ser and Jen. Also that blond and the chief machinist, and Adviser
Patarac and his new wife, and—”

“All right!” Vana held up a hand to suppress
his teasing, unable to stop a small laugh. “So there’s been one or
two good matches come of your scheming. That doesn’t mean everyone
you kidnap will have a happily ever after.”

He speared a crispy bite of meat on the end
of his food pick. “Yes, but there was no saying they’d be any
happier on Earth. Besides, I thought it was every woman’s dream to
be surrounded by a sea of potent men vying for their favors.” He
ducked the pillow she tossed at him, laughing at her chagrined
expression.

“How would you know what women want? Did you
take a survey?” she demanded, subsiding onto her pillows, the
better to glower at him.

Dagon winked and moved around the table. “I
looked at one of your women’s magazines when I was exploring your
world. I discovered all your secrets.”

She snorted, trying to ignore his big body
settling over her soft one. “You can’t believe everything you
read.”

He bent down and whispered a suggestion in
her ear, nuzzling as he did. He’d read it in the magazine and been
intrigued by the idea, vowing he would try it for himself. The time
had come.

Her eyes widened. “That doesn’t really work.
I mean, for me. As a turn on. I think it would be messy.” Even so,
her breathing had picked up.

Eyes sparkling wickedly, he popped her top
open, then reached over to the table and grabbed a crystal dish of
whipped fruit cream. “Let’s find out.”

“Dagon! No, wait—yiie!” Vana gasped as the
creamy stuff landed on her breast with a cool splat, squirming as
Dagon held her in place. Despite herself, a warm dampness started
between her legs. She wasn’t really getting turned on by this, was
she?

Grinning like a shark, Dagon set the dish
down and cupped her breasts, smoothing the cream around with great
relish. He took an experimental lick of one pebbled nipple. “Mm.
Tasty.”

“Dagon—” she gasped as he swirled one finger
around her breast, then lifted it to her mouth, slicking it between
her lips, making her taste what he did.

Her eyes glazed over.

Pleased, he glanced at the table, then
smiled. Ripping open her skirt with one quick tug, he ignored her
exclamations and lifted the tiny syrup pitcher.

“Oh, no! Dagon, you—” Vana gasped as the cool
liquid dripped into her woman’s curls and ran down her cleft,
dampening her already wet clef.

Dagon smiled and kissed her senseless before
licking his way down to a man’s honeyed paradise.

Vana was shocked with her responsiveness. It
wasn’t like her to go for the messy stuff—jello wrestling had never
been one of her turn-ons, or so she’d though. Maybe it was good
that he was the more adventurous one—some things shouldn’t be
missed.

Conscious thought splintered, ousted by pure
sensation. He took every care of her, always so careful to ensure
her pleasure before taking his own. Silently, he proved his love
for her, inventing many ways to please her, devoting every
consideration to her in this realm since he couldn’t give her
everything in others. She didn’t need the words to know he would
give her everything he could, and in a world so often demanding
hard choices, it was a huge concession to offer her what little he
had left.

She’d thought him a rich man, a man with all
the choices, but she’d been so wrong. The right choices were hard,
and came with no guarantees, yet he made them anyway. It was the
measure of a man that he chose to think of how his decisions would
affect others, no matter what the cost, and he was strong enough to
stand by them. He’d won her trust, and it was that trust that made
their loving all the more powerful, the more real, so that when she
finally climaxed, it was in a blaze of joy, completely without fear
and very, very powerful.

Ah, what a pleasure loving a good man could
be.

Growling softly, Dagon rose above her and
claimed his lawful place between her thighs. The claiming made them
both moan, made him swear words of devotion even as he fought a too
quick climax. Love was their battlefield, pleasure their war, and
he fought to prolong it until it roared over them and swept them
both away.

Some battles were better off lost.

Nikon’s little skirmish was not one of them.
They were waiting for him in the audience chamber when he strode in
that afternoon, as confident as if he owned the palace. Attired in
a long sleeved crimson tunic and trousers with a black mandarin
collar trimmed in gold braid instead of body armor, he wore no
weapons of any kind. Perhaps he knew that he wouldn’t stand a
chance against the full arsenal of Beast wrath, or perhaps it was
his way of stating his own worth. Either way, the blond king was
definitely not there in the guise of humble supplicant.

Nikon looked at Vana, who sat enthroned at
Dagon’s side. “You’re looking well, Tzara. My hopes for a smooth
delivery.”

Resplendent in her royal regalia, Vana
inclined her head. “My thanks for your timely assistance, my
lord.”

Nikon’s eyes glittered as he regarded Dagon.
“Let us hope the gesture leads to a new beginning for both our
peoples.”

The silence stretched out as Dagon returned
his stare. Never one to waste breath on diplomatic chatter, he
asked calmly, “What do you claim as reward, Nikon? I think you have
some appreciation for what I can and can’t give you.” Tread
carefully, was left unspoken.