Page 23 of Surrender

In all the confusion, she’d lost the belongings she’d packed for the journey, including her daily injections of synthetic estrogen and testosterone. Without them, she’d be in free fall, experiencing the irrational peaks and valleys of natural hormones. She might even be in a constant state of arousal, weeks before she’d be able to achieve gratification again. He wasn’t an oaf. The man was afiend.

He ignored her glare and gave her a polite smile. “And now, Ambassador, pleasant as this interlude has been, I must insist that we get on our way.”

* * *

Kylar fought to keep from grinning from ear to ear. She wasn’t so much angry with him as she was with herself. Talia was unaccustomed to the delights of the flesh, uncomfortable and ashamed of her passionate reaction. She’d erected her walls, afraid of her sensuous nature. Afraid of him because he’d known how to awaken it. Battering against those walls now would only strengthen her defenses.

Time was his friend. She needed time for her imagination to run free. Time to let her inner vixen awaken again. Fortunately, he was no longer a randy, impetuous youth. A little anticipation on both sides would make their next interlude even more satisfying.

He needed to back off as well. Responsibility called. Responsibility and his love for his father. Once the king was safely back on his throne, there’d be plenty of time to woo the lusty wench hidden inside Earth’s prim and proper ambassador.

Chapter Sixteen

Talia expected the summons to come at any moment. But once they arrived at the fortress, it was as though their hours together had never happened. True to his word, Kylar handed her over to his sister Astrid, named for their late mother, the queen.

She fussed over Talia, ordered the servants to prepare a hot bath and an even hotter cup of tea. Then she dumped most of the contents of her wardrobe on the bed in the room Talia had been given.

“Take whatever you like. We’re nearly the same size.”

Talia smiled. “Thank you.” Astrid had been gracious and kind, showing concern but not prying too deeply into the reason why the Interstellar Federation’s representative had arrived at the fortress wearing only her brother’s shirt. Or why Talia’s bottom bore faint red marks.

Astrid made mention of them only once. She’d walked in with her arms full of towels as Talia stepped into the bath. Talia whirled around to hide her backside from view but Astrid gave her a wink.

“Please, don’t be embarrassed. I’m familiar with marks like those. Strong though we may be, Viking women grow up with the knowledge that our men take responsibility for our health and safety. When I was a girl, any willful disobedience was dealt with swiftly by my father. Over his knee. Now it’s likely to be over the foot of the bed, by my husband Thane.”

Talia let out the breath she’d been holding and sank into the steaming-hot water. Astrid sat down on a low stool near the tub and lowered her voice. “Truth be told, I find my handsome husband even more desirable after he’s warmed my bottom. His punishments are always followed by ardent lovemaking. He seems determined to find another way to bring out the wild cries I stubbornly refuse to utter when his hand is coming down on my backside.”

Astrid’s lips curved into a tiny smile, as if recalling an especially fond memory. “And he always does. He only spanks me because he cares,” she went on. He’d never do me real harm. Nor would my brother, to any woman. I hope you bear him no ill will. I’m sure what he did was out of concern.”

Talia gave her a faint smile in return. She wasn’t used to exchanging girlish confidences. This culture seemed determined to force her into intimacy, whether it be physical or emotional. To her, speaking about such highly personal matters was unthinkable. As was intruding on someone bathing. But Astrid showed no sign of leaving. Talia reached for the cup of tea on the edge of the tub, turning away from her hostess to preserve a shred of modesty, and skillfully switched the subject.

“Speaking of concern, I’m sure your brother is frantic with worry about your father. You must be as well.”

Astrid choked back a sob. Talia guessed she’d been prattling on about other matters to keep from dwelling on her fear. “You were in the palace,” she said. “Did you see anything, hear anything about him?”

“I’m sorry. We four were kept far from any other prisoners. I’ve heard the other women are here now, too. Are they well?”

Astrid nodded. “By the blessing of the gods and the courage of our warriors. Gunnar won’t let Signe get three feet from him. As for Irna, Haldor has taken to carrying her around the fortress while she clings to his neck like a babe. She hasn’t said much, just buries her head in his chest if anyone else speaks to her. As for Freya – she acts as if she’s fine. But her eyes have a vacant look, as though she’s been to hell and had to leave part of her soul there to escape.”

Despite the heat of the bath, Talia shivered. Astrid had a way with words. Talia knew she, too, had lost part of herself forever in the dungeons beneath the palace. Her innocence. She’d never known the universe held creatures capable of such wickedness and cruelty. Now she’d experienced pain, seen suffering and death, faced her own fear of dying.Kylar was right. Even the smallest pleasures seem more satisfying now. A warm bath. A soft towel. A hot cup of tea.

Astrid finally left with the promise that she’d be back to escort Talia to the great hall for the evening meal. “Kylar has ordered a banquet in honor of the safe return of our women. Then he and his inner circle will meet to plan their next move. They’ll probably be at it till the wee hours of the morning.”

Wrapped in one of those soft towels, Talia went through the garments piled on the bed. She chose a gown of blue as warm as the sky on a midsummer day, with a low-cut bodice laced up the front.Not at all like her usual attire, with its severe cut and somber colors. Those clothes were meant to project an air of authority. This gown made her feel…pretty.

Talia stared at her reflection in the mirror. Pretty? She’d never used that word to describe herself. Certainly never aspired to. But after nights of bedding on filthy straw, day of enduring the shame of nakedness, wearing a gown that made her feel pretty was another of the small pleasures that meant so much now. She hadn’t chosen the gown for that reason. Despite Astrid’s insistence that they were nearly the same size, it was the only gown she’d been able to squeeze her breasts into. And that only because she’d opened the laces in front as far as she dared.

Still damp from the bath, her hair flowed down her back in soft waves and brushed the twin mounds spilling out over the top of the bodice. The gown may have fit Astrid perfectly but on her, the bodice barely covered her nipples. She tugged it up as far as she could then frowned at the naughty wench staring back at her from the mirror. It would have to do. Her only other choice was to don Kylar’s shirt again.

A soft knock at the door ended her deliberations. Astrid came in, determinedly cheerful again, and led her through a series of passageways to a chamber nearly as large as the great hall in the palace. Talia searched the crowded room for a familiar face and recognized Gunnar’s blond bulk seated nearby with his back to her.

She heard a soft cry then found herself enveloped in a huge hug. “Thank the gods! We were all so worried when we didn’t meet you on the trail. Gunnar, this is Talia, the one I’ve been telling you about. It was her bravery that gave the rest of us the will to remain strong.” Signe drew back. “Oh, I beg your pardon. I should be addressing you as excellency. For a moment, I forgot you’re the new ambassador.” She gave a half bow.

Talia put aside her distaste for physical contact and pulled the woman back into a hug. “Please, call me Talia. And it was you who gave me courage. Gunnar, you are a lucky man to have such a brave, strong woman to share your life with.”

“I’ve been hearing wonderful things about you.”

The low voice behind her sent a shiver down Talia’s spine. She whirled around. Kylar’s brilliant blue eyes bored into hers. She caught a flash of dark desire when his gaze traveled lower to rest on the twin mounds spilling out of her bodice.

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