Rebel (15 page)

Danette Tiptonn opened her eyes and groaned
as light stabbed into her brain. Blinking repeatedly, she brought
the room into focus. She sat between Ashton and Palmer in some sort
of holding cell. An alloy bench protruded directly from the barren
wall. Her ears buzzed and her mind felt muddled.

“Where are we, Ashton?” she asked, trying to
lift her head off his shoulder. Why did she feel so…weak? Had she
been drugged? What was happening?

“I don’t know.” He sounded groggy and
annoyed.

The last thing she could remember clearly
was the gala. She’d been returning from the bathroom when
everything went black. Ashton had been at the party, but she
couldn’t remember seeing Palmer there.

Forcing her head to turn, she looked at the
younger man. Palmer still wore his pajamas. He must have been taken
right out of his bed. But who had done this and why?

As if to answer her unspoken question, the
door panel rolled up into the ceiling and a dark-haired woman
strode into the room. Bright green eyes dominated her delicate
features. Though she was slender and less than average height, she
carried herself with authority and confidence.

She approached Danette, grasped her shackled
wrists and urged her to stand. A small length of chain connected
her ankle restraints. For the first time, Danette noticed her feet
were bare. What had they done with her shoes?

It was such a trivial concern it shocked
Danette out of the lingering stupor. Her shoes were the least of
her problems. She needed to learn as much as she could about her
circumstances and that was only possible if she regained control of
her emotions.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked. “Who
the hell are you? What do you want with us?” Despite her
determination to remain calm, her tone grew sharper with each
question.

“You won’t be harmed if you follow my
instructions. If you give me any trouble, I’ll leave you bound and
gagged until this is over.”

“You can’t treat us like this.” She glanced
at Palmer and Ashton for reinforcement. “Do you know who we
are?”

“This wasn’t a random act, Ms. Tiptonn. I’m
fully aware of who you are, or more to the point, who you call
‘Father’.”

Rebels? Who else would attempt something so
brazen? The coalition had more allies than enemies. This had to be
the work of the rebels.

Seeing no alternative but cooperation,
Danette shuffled out into the corridor. The woman emerged, followed
immediately by her guards. The door panel rolled into place and the
woman motioned Danette down the hallway.

Danette studied her surroundings as she
walked, searching for any clue to her location. Was she still in
coalition space? Her chains jingled and her bare feet slid over the
cool tiles. Tingles skittered up her spine.

“Inside,” the woman ordered, and a door on
Danette’s right opened.

Danette glanced inside and shuddered. The
room was identical to the one she’d just left. “I’d rather stay
with the others.”

“I’m sure you would,” the woman
muttered.

“We can verify the
humane
treatment
of each other if we’re left together.” It was a warning as much as
a suggestion.

“So can the surveillance feed. Go.”

Before Danette could argue, the two guards
picked her up and carried her into the cell. Their hands lingered
against her upper arms, the backs of their fingers brushing her
breasts. She twisted out of their hold with an indignant gasp as
her stomach lurched. They had no right…
She
had no rights.
She was a prisoner of war, not Admiral Tiptonn’s daughter. The
sooner she adjusted her thinking, the better her chances were of
surviving this ordeal.

“How long will you keep us? What are you
asking in return for our…” Her words trailed away as they left her
alone in the tiny room.

The restraints fell to the floor with a
noisy clatter and Danette kicked them under the bunk. She hadn’t
worn the restraints long enough to chafe her skin, but it felt good
to be rid of the weight.

Ashton’s father was premier of the Comet
Coalition and Palmer’s mother was chief justice. As the dark-haired
woman said, this was no random act. To Danette’s knowledge, the
coalition had never given in to threats. Surely the rebels knew
that. So what were they hoping to accomplish?

A single blanket was folded at the foot of
the bunk, which was the only thing resembling furniture in the
room. An open archway provided some modicum of privacy if she
needed to use the toilet. Another compartment opened off the
lavatory, but the door remained locked as she approached.

Even the detention centers on Halley Prime
were far more hospitable than this. She sat on the edge of the bed
then scooted back far enough to raise her feet off the cold alloy
floor.

They expected a helpless socialite, a
superficial twit, living only for pleasure. Perhaps she should give
them exactly what they expected. Covering her mouth with her hand,
she allowed tears to fill her eyes. Were they watching? Assessing
her? She had to learn more about
them
and she couldn’t do
that locked in this cell.

She produced a pathetic sob as tears escaped
the corners of her eyes.
Please let there be a man watching.
If the dark-haired woman was monitoring the surveillance feed, this
performance was utterly wasted.

An odd rumble vibrated the room and Danette
yelped. “What is that?” She kept her tone breathless yet loud
enough for a security transmitter to detect. “What’s going on?
Please, someone talk to me.”

“Ms. Tiptonn, just relax. We’ll bring you
something to eat in a little while.”

She slowly lowered her hand away from her
mouth, making sure her lips still trembled. “Thank you.” She
sniffed and inched closer to the edge of the bunk. “May I know your
name?”

“I’m not even supposed to be talking to
you.”

He had a faint accent, as had the woman.
Danette scrambled to place the vocal inflection, but she’d never
been good at outpost accents. “I’m glad you did. My stomach is
really upset. Could I get some crackers or maybe—”

“Someone’s coming.” After a quick crackle,
there was only silence.

Korbin Reah walked into the control booth
later that night to find Larz cheerfully chatting with Danette
Tiptonn. The younger man’s gaze was fixed on the vidscreen with a
mixture of lust and awe.

“Is this your homeworld?” she asked. “You
have such an interesting accent.”

Before Larz could answer the siren’s
question, Korbin reached across the console and deactivated the
intercom. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

A flush crept up Larz’s neck and deepened
across his cheeks. “I didn’t tell her anything. She doesn’t even
know my name. She was scared to death when Corry locked her in
there by herself.”

“You felt sorry for
her
?” He made a
sharp gesture toward the vidscreen. “She’s pumping you for
information and you’re too turned-on to notice. We are beneath
contempt to people like her and don’t you ever forget it. Go take a
cold shower and get your head screwed on straight.”

“But my shift doesn’t end for another
hour.”

“Your shift ends now!”

“Yes, sir.”

Korbin turned back to the vidscreen as Larz
left the booth. The manipulative little bitch. Larz might be
dazzled by her beauty, but she’d find him harder to control. With
an angry exhalation, Korbin reactivated the intercom.

“Hello.” She paced the holding cell, calling
out to the walls. “If that question was too personal, we can talk
about something else. Just don’t ignore me. I won’t cause any
trouble, I promise.”

Korbin raked his fingers through his hair
and closed his eyes against the temptation. He’d promised Corry she
could play with the prisoners first. He’d promised himself he’d
leave the pampered princess alone. There was no way in hell he’d
play nicely, so it was better for everyone if he took a giant step
back.

“Hello,” she tried again.

There had to be some consequence for what
she’d done with Larz. She had to know her gorgeous face and perfect
body weren’t going to help her here. He paused the surveillance
recording and crossed his arms over his chest. This would create a
lapse in their vidlog, but he was willing to take the chance.

“I’ll have to review the entire conversation
before I decide what penalty is appropriate for the two of you,” he
said with lazy menace.

Her sparkling blue eyes widened and her lips
parted. “Please don’t be angry with…the young man. He only spoke to
me because I was frightened.”

“Are you frightened now?” He hadn’t expected
her to defend Larz. It was remarkably selfless for a privileged
citizen of Halley Prime.

She nervously licked her lips, drawing his
attention to her mouth. An odd tingle erupted in his brain. That
bow-shaped mouth, those electric-blue eyes… Did he know this
woman?

An image formed, distinct and shocking. She
knelt before him, naked, hands bound behind her, another Master
grasped the back of her hair, offering Korbin the wet heat of those
scarlet-tinted lips. Had he encountered Danette at the Pleasure
Palace? No, it wasn’t possible. She would have been too young.

“Should I be frightened?” she asked,
lowering her gaze submissively. “Do you intend to punish me?” The
sensual undertone in her words was unmistakable.

Desire spread through him, heating his blood
and speeding his pulse. “Would you enjoy being punished?” The
question was out before he realized what he was doing. He had
fallen into the same trap as Larz!

“I…I would enjoy a hot shower and having
something else to wear. This gown is a little impractical.”

“But it suits you so well, princess.”

“My name is Ms. Tiptonn.” She raised her
chin, her expression a bit too haughty. “Please address me as
such.”

Wrong time to flaunt her breeding. Wrong man
to provoke with her arrogance. He deactivated the lights and
listened to her scream. She’d never known hardship, never gone
hungry. He doubted Admiral Tiptonn had ever raised his voice to his
precious baby girl. Training her would be no challenge. Still,
something about Danette called to Pleasure Master Nine, the part of
Korbin’s nature he’d forced into hibernation when he resigned his
position at the Pleasure Palace.

“I’m sorry.” Genuine fear made Danette’s
tone shrill. “Please turn the lights back on.”

“Can I call you princess?”

“Yes! Call me whatever you like, just turn
on the lights.”

The holding cells were sealed and
soundproof, the darkness absolute. “Ask me nicely.”

“Please. I already said please.” Her voice
broke urgently. It wouldn’t do to have her
swoon
. Korbin
chuckled and raised the illumination to one-tenth its normal
intensity.

“T-thank you. More please.”

“Say my name.”

He activated the enhanced spectral camera,
allowing him to see her despite the meager light. She stumbled
forward, her arms extended. This couldn’t lead where he wanted it
to lead, so why was he toying with her?

“I don’t know your name.”

“Sure you do. Think about it. What does
every man really want to be called?” It wasn’t just her beauty.
Korbin had a knack for spotting those who understood surrender,
needed the security of submission. Those needs smoldered in
Danette’s eyes.

“Sir?” she suggested tentatively.

“Close. Try again.”

“Your majesty?” Annoyance snapped through
her tone.

He chuckled. “I have an altogether different
relationship in mind.”

Her hands trembled as she covered her face
and took a slow, deep breath, nearly spilling her breasts from the
plunging neckline of her gown. Lowering her arms to her sides, she
asked, “What do you want to be called? I’m tired of this game.”

“Call me
Master
and we’ll play a
different game.”

“M-Master?” She caught her bottom lip
between her teeth and pressed her hand over the upper swell of her
breast. Was her heart pounding? Most women would have laughed or
gasped in outrage. She only sounded unsure. Someone had introduced
her to the pleasures of submission, but who would be so bold? She
was Admiral Tiptonn’s daughter. “You want me to call you Master?”
she sounded even more uncertain now.

He dimmed the lights.

“Please, Master, turn on the lights.” Her
tone was hushed and husky, but the request came without hesitation.
Even her voice seemed familiar. This was Danette Tiptonn. Her
father’s over-protectiveness was common knowledge. What would
she
have been doing at the Pleasure Palace?

He increased the intensity to half.

“Thank you, Master.”

Possessive desire tightened his abdomen and
made his cock jerk. Stars, he wanted her. Maybe he’d wait to notify
her father while he… No! He shouldn’t have started this. But the
game had begun and she obviously knew the rules.

“I’m not the first man you’ve called Master,
am I?”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of her
mouth while secrets gleamed in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re
talking about.” Despite her denial, her dreamy expression told
another tale. She paused in front of the camera and smoothed her
hands down her sides, drawing his gaze along every dip and curve of
her body.

“That gown displays your figure so
perfectly. I bet every man at the gala was desperate to be near you
as soon as they saw you in that dress.”

“I’m shamefully vain, Master. I shouldn’t
enjoy the attention, but I do.”

All hesitation had left her voice. She was
either a trained submissive or ripe for training. Korbin shifted
his hips in a futile attempt to alleviate the pressure in his
crotch.