Princess Rescue Inc (74 page)

Deidra
looked down to her ankle. “Go get changed and then kick back in his room. He's
got to be back sometime tonight or tomorrow, the guy needs to sleep sometime,”
Wanda smiled. Of course Ryans could stay up all night; he'd been known to do
that. Or crash in the camper. The princess chuckled. “He can't avoid you
forever after all,” she smiled.

<==={}------------>

Ryans
went to the warehouse armed and with dragon skin armor. When he arrived Perry
shoed him off, “Minor theft ring, no spy ring.” They shooed off gathering
crowds. Perry got a call to go back to the boot camp and left.

Ryans
left alone. On the way back to the castle he passed through dark narrow alleys.
He had a pair of NVGs on so he spotted the assassins coming in from his front
and behind him. There were seven, four in front three in back. He called in an
alert just as his gear heard them talking about killing him. “Crap, make that
code red,” he snarled. He stepped up the alert, drew his weapon. He fired into
the dark at the closest person.

He
killed the two charging men, but the one behind him stabbed him in the back.
The vest protected him, absorbing the impact and preventing the blade from
penetrating. He spun in place, and got sliced on his arm in the struggle before
killing the man with a point blank shot to the gut and chest. The third man was
frozen, dagger in his hands. He turned and was shot fleeing. He fell spread
eagle to the ground groaning. Three more turned to run. He shot one in leg; the
man limped and then fell clutching at his leg and screaming. Guards rounded the
corner at run, one guard body checked one assailant knocking him to the ground.
The other assailant fought off the other guard killing him with a stab to the
throat before he turned to see more men coming at a run. He grimaced and then
slit his own throat when cornered by the remaining two soldiers and Ryans.

Perry
arrived at a run, instantly assessing the situation. One wounded man tried to
get a weapon, Ryans stepped on his outstretched hand, feeling the bones crunch
and the man screamed in pain. He then put the hot muzzle to the man's forehead
making the man scream again. They could smell melting flesh as the muzzle
branded him. “I'm going to ask you some questions. Answer them. Who paid you,”
he snarled, still in full battle mode. The man writhed under his hand and then
gasped out "Baron Muchinson". Pissed Ryans looked up as a pair of
grim guards came in and pushed him away so they could bind the prisoner.

Perry
looked at him. “I didn't know you had it in you.”

“I
didn't. I had it in here,” he held up the Glock. “The rest was all automatic.”

“Reload
it now,” Perry said as he put the safety on. He grimaced but complied, swapping
cartridges. Perry picked up his spent brass and pocketed it.

Perry
insisted on sending a guard with him. He arrived at the stately lit castle and
shooed the guard off near his door. The guard noted two of his fellows lounging
on pikes nearby, and went over to them to talk. Ryans noted them but didn't
recognize the Queen's own until he entered his room. Inside he found Deidra on
his bed. She was dressed in the medieval version of a silk summer night gown,
modest by modern standards, but quite revealing and daring in her world.

<==={}------------>

“I
had a feeling I'd be seeing you tonight. Let me guess, mommy dearest put you up
to it? Royal order?” he demanded. He got all the confirmation he needed when
she looked down and away. “Yeah, thought so. Your father is on his deathbed and
your mother sends you out to seduce me,” he said in rich disgust. He was
radiating cold rage, still not down from his adrenaline high from the
assassination attempt. Right now he wanted to listen to what his bluetooth had
captured but everything was forgotten in the heat of this moment.

Her
eyes flashed. “Want to deny the truth?” he asked locking eyes with her. She
frowned. He snorted. “I'll give you a hint lady, I can read people well. I can
tell from your eyes when you're lying or preparing to lie to me. It's something
that our science back on good old Patria, that's Earth you know, they figured
it out. Well, scientists and police officers did. I picked it up from grams and
from watching TV.”

“You're
such a know it all, you seem to know all the answers,” she said, not able to
fight down or resist her own temper. “I've got news for you; you’re not on
Patria anymore! This is not Patria!”

“You're
damn right it isn't!” he roared. She blinked shocked by his fury. She tried to
shush him but he was up and about pacing. “I know goddamn well you've seen the
videos, you've watched movies with Patterson and the others, and you’ve seen
pictures and heard us talk. So yeah, I know this isn't Earth, thanks for
stating the obvious.”

“So
don't hold us to your standards!” she said trying not to shriek at him.

 “The
hopes and dreams, curing disease, personal liberty, Hell a person man or woman
can say what they want, worship who they want, carry weapons and has a say in
how things is run! Hell lady, its heaven there compared to here! My country has
no
famine; it's the greatest in the world! We've sent men to walk on the
moon, flight, cars, submarines, understanding... you have
no
concept at
all of what you’re asking! The Internet! Information free to anyone at any
time!” he snarled. “You can speak your mind and not be punished! People write
what they think and feel and discuss it openly! They discuss their leaders and
vote on them! Reading and writing are universal.
Anyone
can learn.
Schooling is
mandatory
!”

He
threw his hands up in the air. Her head was swimming with the concepts he was
throwing at her all at once. She'd heard and seen it in the videos, heard it
from some of the other gaijin but never really understood his feelings on it
until now. If it was so great why did they leave? She opened her mouth to say
that but he kept rolling on, pacing. “We've got free press, which means people
can say things and not have to worry about being
punished
for them. They
can tell others if there is something wrong, point out corruption, and have a
say in how things are run!” He paced back and forth. “They can vote, run for
office, become leaders... the sky is the limit!” he threw his hands up in the
air to emphasize his point.

She
looked amazed then she frowned, fighting tears. He sighed. “Damn that's not
fair, god spare me a woman’s tears. It's unfair,” he said feeling like a
complete heel. She stiffened in rage once more.

He
turned his back on her and then he absently took off his armor. She looked up
and was awed by his rippling muscles. She looked away for a moment and then covetously
looked back. He still had his back to her, what she saw, took her breath. She'd
seen scars, she'd seen rippling muscles but she'd never quite seen something
like this. He was etched, firm and strong, with every muscle standing out and
little if any fat.

Then
he turned slightly and she noted his bloody arm. Instantly she was at his side,
grabbing it to look. She had a fit but he brushed her concern off. She stared
at him intently, unhappy and not about to let him go or get away without
telling her what happened. He sighed. Carefully he told her of the assassins,
including the confession and that Baron Muchinson had put them up to it. She
was instantly upset and outraged, ready to track the man down and arrest him.
He shook his head. “I've got something else in mind. Perry took charge of the
two surviving assassins and we'll have video confessions from them. He was
bagging any evidence and if the baron was stupid he left his fingerprints
behind. Then again, the baron probably didn't know about fingerprints now did
he?

“We,
the healer must attend to you!” Deidra said and then bit her lip. She didn't
want a third party intrusion but the cut was long albeit shallow. He brushed
off her demand for him to wake Doc. “Over a scratch like that?” he asked
pulling out his own first aid kit. He grimaced as he cleaned the wound, angling
his arm so he could see it in the best light available. “I've had worse. Hell,
when the plane crashed...” He paused in memory; and then grimaced again and
went back to work, not meeting her eyes. He flinched when the alcohol hit the
cut, it stung like hell as it foamed. The pain was actually a good distraction
from his suddenly raging hormones and adrenalin. It wasn't fair, he'd had too
much thrown at him at once and the brush with death had his hind brain wanting
to celebrate life in the worst possible way. He couldn't afford to do it, not
now, not with her.

She
looked at him. “Go on, plane?” she asked. “That flying thing?” she asked,
wrinkling her nose. It looked terrifying.

He
shook his head as he sewed up the wound. She wrinkled her nose and looked away.
So, he could sew a part of her mind thought, just as Wanda had said. “No,
bigger. Cessna actually,” he replied softly. “My parents.”

He
sighed when he realized she wanted the full story. He told her of how he and
his parents were flying to a vacation spot when they had engine trouble. The
engine cut out in the mountains in bad weather and they crashed. He was the
only survivor. He had a broken, lacerated arm. He was forced to live at the
crash site with the bodies of his frozen parents until help arrived. He sighed.
“The biggest screwed up thing was I got a huge inheritance and insurance check
for the whole damn thing. My parents had taken out multimillion dollar policies
on themselves and then there was the plane insurance too. And there were quite
a few people inquiring about that.”

He
grimaced in painful memory. “I was thirteen. I had to wait five long years to
get the money. I had all sorts of people after me for it. Women too, money and
power.” He scowled blackly. “You have no idea what kind of ego stroking it is
to have a twenty-one year old seduce you when you are fourteen! And then I
overheard her talking with her friends, how she was only after me for the
money. Quite the letdown,” he growled. It was painful, remembering that he'd
lost his virginity to someone like that. He looked over to her. “So yeah, I'm
not at all happy about this.”

He
was pissed about being forced, about his right to choose his own destiny being
taken away from him. She hunted him carefully, aware he was vulnerable now and
that they had bonded again. He had opened up his shell a little to her,
unintentionally perhaps but the opening was there. She took over when he
finished the stitching, holding his arm as she bandaged it.

“Thanks,”
he mumbled, checking it when she was finished. She shyly looked away.

“Don't
you like me?” she asked softly. He looked away fumbling with the first aid kit
as he put it away.

“Yes,”
he ground out, putting the kit away. “You haven't made it easy. You've been an
ice princess, a real B... um, but yeah, I like you. You've been a snooty pain
in the ass, prickly, hard to like. You're beautiful; you know it and you use it
for your own ends. I've admired your courage, your tenacity, and your spirit.
You've got a set on you, I'll admit that. I don't think I could have done half
the things you've done. Wicked wicked pride,” he said, her eyes gleamed. “You
have a wicked right cross, you've got a sharp tongue and you can handle any
weapon. You've got a temper I don't mind admiring from a distance but every
once in a while I see the softer side, the side you used to nurture your
sister.” He shook his head. “In other words I like and admire you for you.
Deidra, fiery woman of grace and short temper. That still doesn't change
anything. I'm not going to be forced.”

She
smiled slightly in triumph as she sat on his lap. “I think it does,” she said
softly. She finally got him to admit he had feelings for her she thought. She
kissed him softly, cupping his cheeks with her fingertips with moth like
gentleness. He was surprised by the tender kiss, surprised and off balance both
mentally and physically. His arms instinctively wrapped around her as she
pulled his head down for another more thorough and very passionate kiss.

“But...”
he said, but she kissed him again, stroking him. “But...” he said softer but
she kept kissing and holding him.

“Oh
hell with it,” he finally said, giving in as he felt his body responding to her
relentless attack. Things undressed from there as conscious thought devolved.

She
was a little exasperated that he was so hesitant at first; she became the
wanton demanding lover. She wasn't going to take
no
from him and he
discovered how far she wanted to take this when she pushed him onto his back
and took charge. It became an intoxicating experience for her, one that drove
the memory of her rape out of her mind. She was pleased and awed by his
stamina, and his inventiveness. His willingness to not only please and pleasure
her over his own short pleasure drove any lingering doubts of his worthiness as
a partner from the shadows of her mind. He was such a tender lover,
conscientious of her needs, and ready to clean her up with a wash cloth when
they were through. His tender caressing rekindled her lust and led to another
passionate love making session that lasted until the dawn broke the horizon.

The
next morning they cuddled in each other’s arms, spent but relaxed and talked
quietly. She hadn't let him think about the seduction, changing the subject
with a glance and a smile. She did admit to wanting comfort and solace in his
arms. She nuzzled him, wrapping his arms around her naked body. “It's about
time,” she murmured.