“Why are you doing this to me?” I whispered, pulling the towel up to my chin. “I won’t help you, I swear I won’t help you!”
“Then we need not concern ourselves with the matter,” he murmured, stroking my face very gently. “You will be no more than another woman upon Rimilia, though one of great beauty and desirability, a true rella wenda. Men will envy my ownership of you for that reason, as they have done in the past.”
“You’re lying!” I cried, feeling the tears beginning to roll down my cheek’s. “All you want me for is my talent, and what that talent can do for your cause!”
“There are other uses a woman may be put to.” He smiled. “It has been long since I had you in my furs.”
“No!” I whispered, shaking my head so hard the tears flew off my cheeks. My hands were clamped tight to the towel at my chin, but the towel was pulled away and then he was lying down beside me, taking me in his arms. I beat at him with my fists and struggled to get away, but when his lips touched mine I whimpered in defeat. He didn’t care how hard I beat at him, how hard I struggled. His body was muscled in metal, his mind hard with determination, his desire so strong it was impossible to ignore. I moaned at the heat coming from his flesh, feeling it seep deeply into mine, and then he was above me, beginning to enter me, and a madness took me. I screamed and struggled and almost got away, then wailed out loud when one surge made his possession too deep to refute.
“I will not cause you pain.” He tried to soothe my frantic writhing, holding me to him with those massive arms. “You have my word, hama, I will not cause you pain.”
I tried to speak, but could do no more than gurgle and choke. I was being flooded with such intense feelings of desire and need that I couldn’t tell whether they were coming from me or him. And then his hips began to move, thrusting hard, sending lightning through me, nearly drowning out the sudden thrum of the transport’s engines. I cried out in protest over the pending takeoff, finding the cry smothered beneath his demanding lips, then thunder came to match the lightning in my body and all protest was gone forever.
3
The common area was spacious enough under most circumstances, but Tammad’s large blond l’lendaa seemed to fill it more than six people ought to. They sprawled on the carpeting, leaning against the cushions, laughing with each other as they helped themselves to the food and drink brought them by the transport’s steward. Garth sat to my right, watching them with frowning interest, paying almost no attention to the food he shoveled into his mouth. He seemed determined to continue in my company, and much of his distress was gone since the last time I’d seen him. He and Tammad had had a long talk before the meal was served, which probably accounted for his new attitude.
I sat beside the barbarian on the carpet, holding a pillow rather than leaning on it. The sense of satisfaction from the man beside me was so great that it set my teeth on edge. He had promised not to give me pain and he had kept that promise, at least on a physical level. Mentally I was furious, miserable, frantic, fearful—and more confused than I had ever been. Not knowing what to do or how to think had turned me sullen and unresponsive—until the barbarian put his hands on me. He had used me twice in his cabin, once on the carpet and once on the bed, and all I could remember was moaning helplessly and kissing the light-haired chest I was held against. Afterward I could have kicked myself for being such a willing victim, but the barbarian’s amusement was punishment enough. He knew I couldn’t resist him, and that seemed to settle whatever doubts he might have had.
I moved in annoyance on the carpeting, unhappy with the imad and caldin the barbarian had made me wear. The blouselike imad and full-skirted caldin were both pink in color, made of a thin, formless material that both hung on me and clung to me at the same time. Tammad’s I’lendaa had murmured in appreciation when they’d seen me in the outfit, and even Garth had been startled enough to stop and stare, but I’ve hated pink long enough not to care what other people think about it. Pink is too vulnerable a color for my taste, but the barbarian was back in charge, of me and every thing else.
“Terril, the food was put before you so that you might eat,” the barbarian said, undoubtedly having noticed the untouched serving on the small table near me. “Do you now take the plate and do so.”
“I don’t like regim in cream sauce,” I muttered, keeping my eyes on the bright orange pillow in my lap. Bright orange and pink. Maybe I’d get lucky and the barbarian would get violently ill.
“It matters not what the dish might be,” he persisted, a, faint annoyance tinging the edges of his thoughts. “The Garth R’Hem Solohr informs me you have eaten no more than once this day, if that. Take the food and eat.”
“It really isn’t bad, Terry,” Garth put in, trying to sound encouraging. “I’m not crazy about regim either, but I’ve tasted a lot worse. Try some and see for yourself.”
“I said I don’t want it,” I repeated for both their benefits, beginning to hate even the sound of their voices. “I don’t want it, I don’t want it, I don’t want it!”
I was so close to throwing a screaming fit I don’t know why I didn’t, but passing up an opportunity often mean’s you don’t get another chance at it. The annoyance in Tammad’s thoughts spread from the edges inward, giving him all the encouragement he needed. He twisted where he sat, grabbed both of my arms, upended me across his lap, then used his hand instead of a switch. He put enough strength into the swats to let me know what was happening, kept it up until I began twisting and crying out in spite of my embarrassment, then put me back where I’d been sitting. Garth and the l’lendaa laughed, making my face burn so red I could feel it more strongly than what the barbarian had done to me. I was furious with them all, but there was nothing I could do to stop them.
“Now do you take the plate,” the overgrown monster directed, his voice as calm as it had been, his mind set in that no-more-nonsense mold. I unclenched my fists and reached the plate slowly over to me, ignoring the tears of frustration and misery that rolled down my cheeks. How was I supposed to fight a man his size, how was I supposed to refuse him? All he wanted was the use of my talent, but I couldn’t even turn and walk away.
“Don’t cry, Terry,” Garth chuckled, wiping at the tears on my right cheek with one finger. “Once you’re finished eating, you’ll feel better. And it looks like you’ve also learned a very valuable lesson: despite the way you act with everyone else, Tammad isn’t someone you can stand up to.”
I turned my head to look at him, seeing and feeling the immense satisfaction he was filled with. If the barbarian had threatened my life Garth would have defended and protected me, but as long as I’d only been punished, Garth couldn’t have been more pleased. He was reveling in feelings of masculinity by proxy, glorying in the embarrassment I’d been given. Right then I hated him more than I ever had, and the hatred found expression in words.
“Well, I guess that makes two of us who can’t stand up to him, doesn’t it, Garth?” My voice was hoarse but filled with venom. Garth felt a deep-down stab of pain that paled his cheeks and blanked his mind. He stared at me no more than three seconds, then rose painfully to his feet and hobbled away toward a cabin. Tammad felt a very strong urge to go after him, did not act on it, then waited till Garth had disappeared into a cabin before speaking.
“It is ever true that a woman will attack with words rather than use a more merciful weapon,” he growled, then reached over and turned my face toward him, his anger as clear in his blue eyes as it was in his mind. “You are not to speak to that man in such a manner again,” he said, holding my face tightly between his fingers. “You have no concept of what occurs between men, therefore are you forbidden to make mention of the matter. Eat what was given you, and do not forget my words.”