The Barbarian's Captive (8 page)

Kerr looked to Trask next. “The only other option is stunning their craft with an electromagnetic pulse. It will disable them, taking out their weapons and navigation systems. Unfortunately, it will also impact their life support systems as well, which means we’ll be pressed for time to get all the females out before oxygen levels dip to lethal levels.”

“I do not recommend this,” their chief physic put in, his jaw set and his brow furrowed in concern.

“Nor do I,” replied Trask. “If they resist once we board — which they undoubtedly will — the window of time will narrow. And hand-to-hand fighting with these small females is not something I relish. Some are bound to be injured as we subdue them.”

Again, Kerr pressed for more specifics. “How do you suggest deploying the paralyzing neural gas?”

“We would need to introduce it into the ventilation system,” Rothke said, plotting out loud as he pulled up a holographic image of the females’ ship. “Our scans tell us there are two optimal entry points. The first accesses the docking station, but there is a risk of injury to any guards who might try to repel our boarding. The other is to send a probe that will drill through the hull”—he pointed to the multi-dimensional image of the alien ship floating above the table—”here.” With a few swipes of his hands, he zoomed in on the precise location. “There is a risk of decompression, though it is minimal, and if that occurs, we can quickly deploy the EMP and get them out using plan B.”

Further discussion ensued, weighing the pros and cons of both options. After another long contemplative pause, Kerr’s measured gaze swept through them all one by one. When it reached Rothke, he gave the order. “Make preparations for pursuit, commander. But when you engage, go carefully. I don’t want even one of them harmed in any way.”

Despite the grins and eager discourse surrounding him, Kerr remained ambivalent, the decision to capture and indoctrinate an alien race weighing substantially on his conscience.

“Let’s focus on getting the eight females we have in hand onto Primarian soil as quickly as possible. The sooner they are bonded to their new mates, and acclimated to their new lives, the better off everyone will be. Dismissed.”

The word had barely left his lips when the men were on the way to the door. He was close to follow, thoughts of taming the tempting sprite he’d left in his bed creeping into his mind.

However, the joy was considerably dampened by the task that lay ahead — and the inevitable reaction it would incite in his mate.

* * *

M
uttering to herself, Eva paced the wide expanse of the huge carpet in the doubly huge bedroom. It made her quarters on the
Odyssey
seem like a closet. Nonetheless, it was a prison — no matter how luxurious it might be. Being locked in was not something she found acceptable. At all.

“And he ordered me to rest. Ha! How does the big brute expect me to rest after being chased, captured, manhandled—” She paused, biting her lip as she pondered that for a moment. “Maybe that should be
alien
-handled…” She shook her head over even considering such silly semantics, and began pacing and grumbling again.

“I’d like to see
him
sleep after being probed and seduced. That wine had to have been laced with something, that’s for damn certain,” she grumbled, not believing how quickly she’d melted beneath his touch.

Throwing her hands up in frustration, she paced back the other way, her rant growing louder. “And to be taken hostage on a strange ship with a bunch of friggin’ giants, then ordered about like a raw recruit — and surgically altered in some way.” For the hundredth time, she rubbed her temples, searching once again for something she knew she wouldn’t find — which was even scarier. “And, don’t forget being spanked like a naughty child, several times. I can’t forget that — ever!” The fact that she’d bitten him, and resisted, had no bearing in her mind; she was the captive. He couldn’t possibly expect her to meekly follow like a sheep, accepting his word as law without question.

Don’t forget, he gave you the most amazing orgasm of your life.

At the end of the carpet once more, she spun, searching the room for who had spoken, and realized the words had rung out in her own head. In her agitation, she lurched the tiniest bit and her forearm connected with the weird contraption that sat off to itself on the far side of the room. Rubbing the tender spot that would likely bruise, she stared at the culprit which wasn’t much more than an odd array of interconnected rods and slats in a variety of lengths and widths. Dismissing it as some sort of alien clothes rack, Eva turned on her heel and stomped back the other way, resuming her pacing.

Damn the pesky voice in her head. It always seemed to pop up with an annoying comment at the most inopportune time. Tipping her head toward the sky — or the ceiling in this case — she vented her exasperation with no one around to hear.

“So, he can fuck! Big deal. That doesn’t give him the right to kidnap me, and the whole team, then whisk us away to heaven-knows-what corner of the galaxy as though they’re masters of the universe or something!”

As the concept of never reuniting with her crew or returning home sunk in, she lamented not ever seeing her friends again — or what little remained of her family. She plopped down on the edge of the bed, fighting tears. It wasn’t easy, but she battled them back. While she did, a wave of exhaustion overtook her. Feeling helpless and lost, she curled up on her side, facing the wall, dragging a downy pillow into her arms. Hugging it close to her chest, she buried her face in it, breathing in slowly as she tried to calm herself. The linens smelled good, the scent familiar.

Suddenly, she sat up. The heady smell was
his
, masculine and seductive. It clung to the bedding that surrounded her. With an angry huff, she flung the pillow across the room and flopped onto her back.

Damn him!

Staring up at the stark white ceiling, she listened to the silence of the bedroom, the occasional low rumble of the ship’s engines the only sound. She remained like that for a long while, feeling sorry for herself, and letting the heaviness of fatigue encompass her.

Maybe she’d take a brief cat nap. The constant stress of being captured was getting to her. Not to mention being transported through space, her molecules somehow disappearing into thin air and miraculously reconfiguring here on the ship like something out of old Hollywood. And the supposedly minor surgery that had followed—who knows what they had actually done to her body or her brain—had taken its toll.

Yeah, she’d close her eyes just for a minute...

A light brush against her skin roused her. As her eyes opened, she looked down and saw long, tapered fingers unfastening the front of her borrowed shirt and easing it open. She blinked, still dazed from sleep, until she felt the slow drag of material across her skin as her breast was bared. Coming wide awake at the sight of her nipple, crinkled in reaction to the cool rush of air, she closed her hand around the busy fingers at the same time she twisted her head and looked at him. Lying beside her, his head propped on his hand, his gaze drifted down to her exposed chest.

“Did you sleep well, sprite?”

Releasing him, she clutched the open placket of her shirt. Or rather his shirt; it was all that she could find to wear since he’d ripped her flight suit into shreds the night before. It was three sizes too big, hanging like a voluminous caftan to well past her knees, yet it covered her nakedness. She thought it would provide
some
protection. Boy, was she wrong.

She glared at him. “Don’t call me that. My name is Eva. I don’t even know what a sprite is.”

“It is a small imaginary creature with special powers. You don’t have such lore in your world?”

“We call that a fairy. And I’m nearly six feet tall, neither small nor imaginary, and if I had special powers I wouldn’t be in this predicament, would I?”

“Mm, someone woke up on the wrong side of their nap, I see.” He continued to work the odd closures, baring her abdomen despite her hands gripping the material. “As far as being small, you are tiny compared to me, and you also hold great powers of the mind. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“I’d prefer to keep my clothing on, thank you.”

“And I’d prefer you naked, which I have ordered twice now. I want no barriers between your beautiful body and my touch.” His eyes shot to hers, warm and glimmering, like liquid gold. “We’re going to have trouble with you doing as I ask, aren’t we?”

She blinked, unable to keep the smart response from her tongue. “First, you didn’t ask, you ordered, so yes. And second, I don’t think you are going to be the one who has trouble with it.”

“Did you disobey your captain’s orders back in the United States Interstellar Space Forces?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because they had authority.”

“I have that here.”

“Not in my opinion.”

“Your opinion doesn’t matter.” He grinned when she sucked in a breath full of outrage. “Were you allowed to do as you wanted, to espouse your opinions whenever you liked? Override your superiors’ dictates?”

“Not if I wanted to stay out of trouble…” After a brief pause, she glared up at him. “I know what you’re trying to do — and the situations are entirely different.”

“How so?”

“Part of my job was to follow orders.”

“On Primaria, being my mate will be your job. I am your leader and you will follow my orders.”

“I don’t consent.”

“You consented to be in the Space Forces?”

“No, they drafted me into the force, but I volunteered for this mission. One I’d like to get back to.”

“Drafted is being inducted into service to your people, I’m assuming. Into an army of sorts.”

“Yes, but—”

“Consider yourself drafted then, into my personal detail — to serve.” With an easy smile, he leaned down and placed his lips on the flat space between her breasts.

“You’re twisting my words to suit your purpose.”

“And you are very beautiful,” he whispered against her skin. “But wearing entirely too many clothes.”

Her chest rose and fell more quickly as his tongue snaked out and licked up her breastbone until he reached her throat. There, his mouth opened and pressed warm, wet kisses along her pulse point and the underside of her jaw. Her heart rate increased rapidly, and she wondered if he felt it bounding beneath his tongue.

“Sit up,” he directed abruptly, easing back.

For some reason, she complied.

His fingers curled into the material at her shoulders and pulled it down her arms, leaving her bare from the waist up. He growled against her ear as his face returned to the side of her neck, his hungry mouth seeking her skin. A hand came up and cupped her breast, his thumb sweeping up and over the ruched tip. She sucked in a deep, hitching breath as a jolt of desire swept through her and moisture began to gather between her thighs. Arching against him, she tilted her head back, shamelessly offering more of herself for the taking.

A low, rumbling noise sounded in his throat as he rolled onto his back, taking her with him until her breasts were pressed against his bare chest. His long arms hastily pulled the shirt from where it bunched in a wad of cloth over her hips and around her thighs. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it over the side of the bed. She was now fully naked, lying atop him, her warm, tingling skin plastered against his. One of his legs coiled behind both of hers, surrounding them right before a sharp, stinging slap landed across her bare ass cheek.

She jerked her head back and looked down at him.

“Not again!” she protested.

“Yes, again, and again.” His non-spanking hand curving around the nape of her neck held her to him while the other rained down fire in several more smacks. “You will receive a correction whenever you choose to defy me.”

She struggled, pushing against his chest as she fought to get free. He captured both of her wrists easily, moving them behind her back, transferring his hold to one strong hand. He then caught her chin, lifting it until their eyes met. “It would serve you better to obey and stop fighting me at every turn.”

“Obey,” she replied with a snort of disgust. “You know that is barbaric, don’t you? On Earth, women have been considered equal to men for centuries.”

He eyed her with a tilt of his head, his long dark hair a stark contrast to the golden brown hue of his skin, and even more distinct against the white linens where it fanned out like black glossy silk across his pillow. For a boorish brute, he was sexy as hell.

“Sprite?”

Her eyes shifted back to his, and she knew she’d been caught gawking. His lips twitched with amusement, but he didn’t mention her distraction. “Do you believe in a higher power, a creator of all things?”

Startled by the sudden change in topic, her mouth opened, then quickly shut. Never overly spiritual, she thought about it for a moment before answering. “Yes. Most of my kind does, in one form or another.”

His mercurial eyes sharpened as he nodded. “Then if our Maker wanted us to be the same, why make us different? Why not design all beings the same way? We believe it’s because each gender has a distinct purpose. Males were given the strength, size and ability to provide for and protect. In turn, the female was made smaller, softer, with a great capacity to love, the perfect helpmate and loving nurturer of our young.”

She sniffed. “So did we, until the twentieth century. Then we evolved.”

“Is that so? Tell me, how is that evolution working in your society?”

The earth was a mess. With wars and armed conflicts popping up one after the other, the world social order was in disarray. Families were broken, with men continually fighting enemies. Children — the few being produced, that is — were often raised in single parent homes. Violent crimes were epidemic, and prisons overcrowded. It was another reason she had volunteered for a five-year science and research expedition — to get away from the constant turmoil and conflict.

She made a face which apparently was answer enough for him as he continued.