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Authors: Kaitlyn O'Connor

Tags: #Romance, #Science Fiction

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BOOK: The Claiming
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The golden eyes that watched him from beneath lazily drooping lids and the winging black arch of his brows did much to enhance that impression.

Appropriately—or oddly—enough, the camar was one of the largest and most dangerous of Orleans’ cats.

Dees couldn’t help but wonder whether the man Alain had become had evolved from his namesake, or if Alain had chosen it, as the primitives did, because it suited him. It occurred to him then to wonder if there was any truth to the rumors that the family carried the taint of primitive blood, or ‘Reduns’ as the ruling race of Orleans referred to the less advanced natives.

"I find," Alain said pensively, lifting his gaze from his watch to the lawyer, "that I have a positive dislike of having my hand forced.”

Dees cleared his throat nervously. "Yes, well I do feel that Jana is being disagreeably ... ah ... firm in her demand for a full contract before she will agree to travel to Orleans to assume the responsibility of running your household, particularly since she was informed that local custom demands a year of mourning in the event of a companion’s death and that you have not yet observed the time required. But I feel I must point out that you, yourself, said that if you saw that you suited one another, you would consider a full contractual period, and, in fact, suggested it in your original proposal."

"That is precisely my point. I realize that we are somewhat behind the times here on Orleans, but it can not be so different on Earth as this suggests. It is the gentleman's prerogative to ask and the lady's to either accept or decline, surely?" Alain said smoothly, though there was a perceptible hardening in his eyes.

"You wish to withdraw your proposal then? I must admit that I considered the notion somewhat ... shall we say ... unusual, to begin with," Dees pointed out delicately.

Due to a rather horrendous error when they’d first begun colonizing other worlds, it was forbidden, by Confederation law, to tamper with the culture or technology of the inhabitants of this world or any other. Most outworlders like themselves, had found that it was far more simple to choose a companion from among the native population than to try to find a female outworlder willing to accept such primitive living conditions. In point of fact, to his knowledge, there had not been more than a half dozen or so new colonists introduced to Orleans for more than a generation.

A sardonic smile lifted the corners of Alain's lips, gleaming in the depths of his hooded, golden eyes. "I think you would rather have said eccentric. However, I don't mean to quibble with your tact. Unfortunately, I have found no other female suitable to my ... needs. And although I have no burning desire to contract again, I feel my children require a woman’s parental guidance and nurturing. It can not be in their best interests to be reared by servants.”

He paused, apparently considering his possibilities.

For his own part, Dees was rather inclined to think the man’s offspring might do as well with the guidance, and perhaps affection , of servants given the alternative Camar had chosen. How maternal could a woman be, virtuous or not, who’d been bred and conditioned as a warrior? Such a one might be better suited to life on Orleans than one of her more delicate counterparts, but to his mind would be unlikely to also possess the characteristics of a nurturer.

Assuredly, life on Orleans must be a challenge to an outsider, for it was amazingly primitive—and dangerous—and Dees could certainly understand that Camar would not wish to choose a delicate creature, who’s chances of surviving would be slim even if she were able to tolerate the strain of living in a primitive society—but a warrior seemed excessively in the opposite direction.

"I'm afraid I have a lamentable memory," Alain said pensively. "Tell me again what you have discovered about my ‘chosen one’."

Dees knew Alain's memory was as remarkable as his mind was astute, but saw no reason to quibble with his request and obligingly shifted through his papers till he unearthed the report in question. "Jana is twenty-five years of age and has never been contracted. She is reportedly a handsome woman of both face and figure … of medium height and build and is fair. She is considered a sensible young woman, intelligent ... possessed of an amiable disposition," he finished, and for want of anything else to do, shuffled his papers once more.

Alain, who'd given no indication that he was even attending, was silent for some time when the lawyer had finished. He was, in fact, deep in thought, unpalatable thoughts Dees presumed from the tense set of his jaw and his narrow-eyed gaze.

That gaze rested upon Dees, causing him considerable discomfort, despite the fact that he knew the unpleasantly hard stare was not indicative of any displeasure with him personally. He was reasonably certain, in fact, that Camar was not even aware of what object his gaze rested upon.

He was correct in his assumption. Alain was passing under mental review those females he'd considered and dismissed some time before. Of the lamentably few he'd felt were attainable due to their situation, none had been of sufficient interest to warrant more than passing consideration.

It was fruitless speculation. His former companion had been proof enough that nothing good could come of attempting to ally himself with the ruling race of Orleans. They considered themselves far superior to the ‘primitive red race’, in fact were marginally more advanced, and far more cultured—which appealed to him.

But they required an archaic form of mating formerly known by his father’s ancestors as a ‘life commitment’ or ‘marriage’ and they would not allow either until they had thoroughly investigated a potential mate’s bloodlines.

Alain’s bloodlines were not acceptable in their eyes. Nothing but his considerable wealth had outweighed the objections to his previous search for a mate and he found the thought of enduring that sort of reluctant acceptance again extremely unpalatable.

"Does it strike you as odd that she could be such a paragon of virtues and yet she has reached the age of five and twenty without having contracted any previous alliance?" he asked pensively.

The question made Dees uncomfortable. Irritably, he wondered why when he had only conducted an investigation at his client's request and was in no way responsible for the results. "From what I could ascertain, she was to have contracted in her eighteenth year, but for some reason nothing ever came of it. It seems the other party departed Earth for parts unknown rather … uh ... hastily.”

Alain's lips curved into an enigmatic smile. "One would almost suppose that the fellow had a very narrow escape," he murmured with a hint of amusement in his eyes. He maintained a meditative silence for some moments. "Fair, did you say?"

Dees nodded, but Alain had turned his narrow-eyed gaze to the contemplation of his swinging watch once more. "No doubt I shall live to regret it. I did agree that I would be willing to consider a full term, however. And I can think of no real reason at this juncture, aside from a dislike of having my hand forced and a distaste for fair women in general, to back out on it now. We shall hope Jana has no reason to regret her decision," he finished coolly.

Dees, eyeing the cold glint in Alain’s eyes with misgiving, could not help but think that the woman had made a serious error in judgment when she decided Alain’s proposal put her in a position of power. He had, however, been hired by Alain not Jana, and judiciously kept his observations to himself.

Alain's eyes narrowed as he studied his watch fob pensively. "I fear I shall be unavailable for the arrival.... Business, as you might suppose. You may inform Jana that arrangements have been made per her proposal, and that immediately upon her arrival, she will be conducted to my plantation, where she will assume her responsibilities ... as that is my sole reason for agreeing to her terms. I leave it up to you, Dees, to make the necessary arrangements," Alain finished, concluding the interview as he rose to his feet and pocketed his watch.

Dees rose also. He cleared his throat nervously. "You surely do not wish to have it worded to that effect?"

"Precisely to that effect," Alain replied laconically. "I will allow Jana to believe she has won this round, but I see no reason to delude her into thinking her reception will be a warm one."

"I hope you will pardon my presumption, Mr. Camar, but I feel I must point out that such a missive would not be precisely ... conciliating," Dees said uncomfortably. "It's entirely possible that she may wish to withdraw."

Alain's lips curved into a mocking smile that never reached his eyes. "In that unlikely event, I should be forced to seek out a more agreeable female," he murmured silkily.

***

“Well, has it been settled?” Blane demanded when he had caught up to his older brother.

“In a word, yes,” Alain said succinctly.

Blane studied him. He had not seen Alain in quite so black a mood for some time—not since before Caro’s death, in fact. “I can not help but notice that you do not seem particularly pleased,” he prodded.

Alain slanted him a narrow eyed look. “Your powers of observation have always amazed me, little brother, but I don’t recall that I asked for your opinion.”

Blane’s lips tightened in anger, but he refused to back down merely because Alain had warned him off. In his opinion, far too many people feared Alain—particularly when he was in one of his ‘moods’. It wouldn’t hurt him to listen to someone else’s advice for a change. It was not as if Alain had a sterling record where females were concerned. In fact, he seemed to have a penchant for forming attachments that could only give him pain. If would have been far better for everyone if Alain had not fallen in love with that she-cat he’d married. It seemed she had set out to see how miserable she could make him.

It had been a blessing, really, when she’d broken her neck.

Not that Blane could imagine anyone forming an attachment to that outworld creature he and Alain had gone to Earth to check out. Warrior indeed! It was the worst of bad luck that she’d left before they arrived, for he was certain that it would’ve taken no more than a look to convince Alain that his judgment was faulty, in this case at least.

One had only to read over her stats, in Blane’s opinion, to see that Jana WVFT366 would make life unbearable for everyone, not just Alain.

But Alain had not asked his opinion.

It seemed unlikely that Alain would listen to reason now.

He stopped, glancing back toward the office Alain had just left.

After a moment, Alain stopped as well, lifting one dark brow questioningly.

“I believe I’ll stay in town for a bit,” Blane said to the unvoiced question.

Alain studied him a long moment and finally turned without a word and strode to the high strung Zell that danced nervously at the end of his tether where Alain had tied him to the hitching post.

It was a beautiful creature, a fine pure breed. Blane, naturally, had studied Earth history and had been particularly interested in the data regarding the horses used for transportation during Earth’s primitive past. This creature came far closer to resembling an Earth deer, than a horse, but Blane was inclined to think they were far more beautiful animals—probably just as contrary, but much stronger and faster. There had been some talk, years ago, of introducing the horse into Orlean’s ecology, but he thought it just as well that it had not been allowed.

He watched as Alain mounted his steed and departed, the Zell’s cloven feet clattering loudly against the stones that paved the main thoroughfare of Savana. When his brother had disappeared from sight, he turned and made his way back to the attorney’s office.

***

Jana had lived on the edge of terror for the better part of two weeks. After the customer had left on that never-to-be-sufficiently-regretted day that Jana had attempted her last escape, Marty had returned. To her relief, he had seemed more contemplative than angry, however, and he had contented himself with merely threatening her.

Jana supposed that was the reason she was so frightened she couldn’t even think straight. Satisfied customer or not, Marty had still been furious with her. Any other time, he would have beaten her until she could barely move. The fact that he had done no more than slap her a few times meant that he had something far worse in mind as punishment.

The trouble was, Jana couldn’t even begin to imagine what it might be.

He no longer seemed inclined toward the idea of sending her back for conditioning.

Did that mean he did not plan to keep her? And, if he didn’t, did it mean he would sell her?

Stupid question. Of course he would sell her! He wouldn’t just give up the credit he’d paid for her.

The real question, the one that terrified her, was to whom would he sell her?

There had been several rather frightening visitors since that night. Marty had told her they were potential customers and that her life might well depend upon her behavior toward them, but none had made an appointment with her and Jana very much feared that that could only mean Marty was gathering bids for her.

Jana shook her head, sat up in bed and drew her knees up, dropping her forehead against them. She wished she could cry … really cry. She had a huge lump of misery in her chest that ached for release, but she had been conditioned not to cry. She could produce tears, on command if needed. She could feel awful, but she could not wail out loud and release her pain as she needed to.

She was supposed to appear child-like. No one wanted her to bawl like one, and swollen, puffy eyes were definitely not allowed.

For a time, Jana concentrated, wondering if she could make herself cry even though she wasn’t supposed to be able to, but after a while, she gave up, realizing that, even if she could, it would change nothing. It might make her feel better, but it could not solve her problem.

She needed to think of a solution to her problem … a way to escape completely beyond Marty’s reach before she found herself in an even worse situation. She wasn’t stupid. The House was a first class bordello. If she found herself in any of the lower class establishments, that meant her life would be considerably worse than the life she now had.

BOOK: The Claiming
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