Hers To Cherish (Verdantia Book 3) (29 page)

“Well, Verdantian
, I wish you and your woman good fortune.
Try
not to be stupid.” Tok grinned at Ramsey.

“Yeah
. Thanks for this. I, ah...yeah. Just thanks. If there is ever anything I can . . .” Ram scratched his head and fumbled for words, insanely anxious to be gone yet realizing the life-debt he owed Tok. He had no doubt the Khlossian had saved Steffania’s life.

Tok rumbled into laughter. “Go, Verdantian. Find your woman.”
Ramsey didn’t wait to be told twice.

Ram caught a public aero-
pod to the Estonian Center for Advanced Neurological Research. He tried not to appear ill-at-ease as the craft soared around spears of bizarre architecture that disappeared into purple skies. He might have managed better had the vehicle not been transparent. He kept reminding himself that he wasn’t going to fall, the plex-glass, or whatever it was, would hold him. Only his stomach’s protests as they rose and fell in elevation and the evidence of his eyes told him they moved. It was a vast remove from his horse—no wind, no jolting, no smells of hot horse or man. Once again, a hi-tech civilization bombarded him with alien conveniences and constructs.
Someone ought to standardize how to flush a fucking toilet.
Well, at least they had toilets. On Verdantia, the facilities were frequently whatever shrubbery was nearby
.

Now he stood
at the vast, marble reception desk at the medical center and waited for Steffania’s attending physician. Not a blood or legal relation, Ram required approval to visit Steffania.

His matte
-black combat attire drew curious glances and it occurred to Ram an attempt to blend in might have been a worthy effort.
But where would I have gotten the clothes?
The exotic receptionist had eyed his martial apparel and sniffed dismissively. His eyes strayed to the elegant, sophisticated-looking personages striding by.
Not a chance in the seven hells, you’d fit in, DeKieran, no matter how you’re decked out
. He felt like a grizzled
fell
wolf in the midst of pampered house pets.
Well, I shaved. I’m clean. I don’t think I smell.
He resisted the temptation to check.
What more can you want?

“
Leilani, can you point out who was asking to see my patient?” a familiar voice spoke from near the receptionist’s desk behind him.

Ramsey turned to see the white-
uniformed medica who spoke with the receptionist. His astonishment left him speechless.
Pansy? It’s Pansy!
She had her face buried in a holo-grid or she would certainly have seen him.

“Pansy?”

She turned in surprise. “
Dominus
!”

Her violet eyes glowed
up at him with pure pleasure and her smile split her face. “I
told
her you would come.”

Ramsey walked beside Pansy/Angelica on a pave-stone path that meandered through the green gardens of the advanced medical care facility.
Sr. Medica Angelica Giverny – not Pansy
. 

There she is,
Dominus
, um, Lord DeKieran.” Sr. Medica Giverny blushed. “It is hard to remember not to . . .” 

A smile quirked
the corner’s of Ram’s mouth. “Yes. I have stopped myself from calling you ‘Pansy’ at least five times in the last half-hour. You took me by surprise. All Tok said was that the two of you were in the facility. He neglected to tell me you were on staff.”

Angelica smiled with a self-deprecating shrug. “Remember what I told you, sir. No matter how she reacts, she has longed for you. She asked for you repeatedly during her subconscious therapy sessions.” The sliver of a medica patted his arm. “Good luck.” Angelica beamed at him and then turned away and walked toward the large buildings that hemmed the private gardens. 

Ram stood for a moment
and watched her depart then his eyes returned to the courageous redhead. He had no idea what to say, no idea how to approach her. He only knew the black hole that had opened in his life when he’d thought her lost to him.
Hells, DeKieran, grow a set...just get on with it.

He walked up the path toward the low, stone bench wher
e she sat gazing across a mossy-green, tranquil, pond. Occasionally, an aquatic creature broke the surface but otherwise, all was peaceful. She wore some shapeless, puke-green, hospital gown. Her clouds of fiery hair fell about her shoulders in disarray. She looked...fragile, delicate...and indescribably beautiful. He stopped some feet away, not wanting to startle her, suddenly unsure of his reception. 

“Hello, vixen.”
 

Steffania straightened and turned on the bench to face him. A small
gasp left her lips and she stood, covering her mouth with her hand. 

The open joy on her face loosened something wound tightly inside him.
He opened his arms in invitation. “Come, sweetheart.” 

“Ramsey!” she sobbed,
and raced to him. 

He gathered her into a tight embrace and pressed long, desperate kisses on her mouth
and face – trying to tell her of his love in the only language he was certain of. He held the length of her against him, grinding his hard cock into her, running his hands continually over her back and buttocks. Steffania finally pushed her upper torso away, laughing and crying at the same time. She swiped the tears off her face as he held her close, pressing her abdomen into his erection, letting her feel what she did to him – what she always did to him. 

“You really are a horny bastard, aren’t you, DeKieran?
” She laughed tremulously and then whispered, “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

With astonishment
, he watched his hands tremble as his fingers pushed locks of disordered hair off her face. He needed a moment before he could meet her gaze. His eyes would betray his love for her, his need for her. By the gods, he hoped so. Now that the moment was upon him, the words to tell her what was in his heart lodged frozen in his throat.

He
gazed over her head sightlessly and murmured, “Happily for you, I’m a
possessive
, horny bastard.” His gaze dropped and joined with hers. Her lovely golden eyes shone with a wealth of feeling glorious to behold. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” he said quietly. “I...ah...ran into some difficulties.”

Tears swam in the
luminous eyes that met his. She bit her lower lip and her chin trembled fiercely before she got out the words. “Tok’s been to visit. He told me the radio chatter lit up about this berserk Verdantian. I heard you nearly wrecked the landing transport and spent the entire trip back to Verdantia in an LFP brig. Did you
really
hold your K-88 to the transport commander’s head?” He winced, then nodded. She sniffed in mock severity. “Idiot.” She pulled her hands to his chest, straightened the front of his battle jacket, tucked it underneath his shirt collar and then rested her forehead against him. “It gave me hope that you cared.”

Ram tightened his hold
on the impossibly precious woman in his arms. “I will
always
come for you.”

She looked up at him and
, with a watery chuckle, admonished, “Don’t leave it so late next time.”

As Ramsey studied her features, the impact of how
near he had come to losing this woman forever slammed home and suddenly the words didn't seem at all hard to say. 

“
There won’t be a next time. I’m not letting you out of my sight. I love you, vixen.”

“
I love you, too. Oh, Ramsey! I love you, too,” she choked. She surged up into him and wrapped ardent arms around his neck. She gripped him tighter and tighter.

He
leaned down and swept her into his arms.

“Tell me again,
” she said.

Ram
pretended confusion. “Tell you what again?”

“Ramsey!”
Her closed fist struck his chest and he laughed freely.

“I love you, vixen.”

“Again.”

“I love you.
Vixen.”

Her red hair fell in tumbled splendor over his arm and she looked up
at him radiantly as he carried her toward the medical buildings. Ram searched his memory to identify the alien emotion overwhelming him.
Joy.
The emotion was joy. He pressed his face into the hand that caressed his cheek and kissed her palm.

With a sigh of contentment, Steffania snuggled into him.
“Did DeTano make good on the pardon?”

A warm satisfaction pervaded him
when he recalled the last time he’d seen Ari DeTano. “Yes.”

“Oh.”

Ram stopped at the tone of Steffania’s voice and let her feet touch the ground. He held her away from him slightly, grasping her upper arms. “You sound disappointed.” Didn’t she
want
him pardoned?

She gave a chuff of laughter. “Well, I was going to offer
you the protection of my name and make an honest man out of you.”

Surprise
ambushed a laugh from him. Slinging her over his shoulder, he sauntered along the stone path, slapping her buttocks smartly when she gurgled a protesting, “Ramsey! Put me down!”

“Silence, woman.
It’s far too late to make me an honest man and you will marry me anyway.”

Four
months since reclaiming Steffania from Talleo IV, Lord Ramsey DeKieran, Fifteenth Earl of House DeKieran, walked across the stone courtyard toward the entrance to his sprawling manor. His family seat had undergone extensive renovation and refurbishment to restore it to the welcoming residence he remembered from childhood.

The
staggering amount of money it took to accomplish the transformation in such a short time derived from an unexpected source. His shock had been total when a transfer of millions in universal credits appeared in his account two months after the Games – from The Galactic Network of Adult Entertainment. His surprise increased when a substantial amount had arrived in the months thereafter – royalties for
Savage Sexual Practices of Primal Males—Dominion Games XIV Edition, Track One: Bound Into Submission
.

Ram
still hadn’t figured a way to tell Steffania she need never work again because of the viral popularity of their sex vid. So far, he had plans to tell her, ah,
never. Yeah,
never
sounds good.
Am I delusional to hope she won’t hear of it?
Ram cringed inwardly, imagining
that
conversation.  

Packing crates littered the entryway and workers carrying furniture and other
paraphernalia moved in and out the open doors. Sounds of construction echoed from the interior. He wanted them
gone
. All he needed to be comfortable was a good bed and a certain red-haired vixen. Unfortunately, Steffania would be upset if he ran them off. She had her heart set on a sunken marble whirlpool tub big enough for two with a solid gold swan spout, a massaging, hand-held showerhead and heated towel racks. Not so easy to engineer on Verdantia, though he’d found the men to get it done – especially the massaging showerhead. He had plans for that.

So, the workmen stay
for a while longer
. He raked his hand through his hair and laughed silently at himself. He tried not to irritate her...most of the time...
well, all right...occasionally
.
Goddess, I’ve gone soft. Besotted bastard.

The clattering hooves of an incoming messenger
on the flagstone courtyard halted Ram’s progress and he waited for the man to stop and dismount. Ram didn’t know him, but the rider was a courier from Supreme Commander Eric DeStroia. Ram could not mistake the golden, two-headed phoenix adorning the saddlecloth.

He owed Eric.
Eric’s sleuthing had found the evidence to overturn the charges against Ramsey for the murder of Desiree, and the Tetriarch had ignored his transgressions after that. Eric had fulfilled the promise he made to Ramsey one cataclysmic day on the plains of Vergaza when – against overwhelming odds – Ram had allied his sword and those of his men with the Tetriarch.
Surprised I survived that encounter, actually.