The Captive

  "Have a pleasant stay," the guard said.

  "Thank you," Ashlynne replied. "You've been very kind."

  "My pleasure, my lady," he said.

  "My pleasure, my lady," Falkon muttered as the guard closed the door. He stared at the manacles on his wrists, and wondered if putting himself at her mercy had been such a good idea.

  They found lodging in a glass-fronted, four-story building. Falkon watched Ashlynne sign for the room, then followed her into the elevator.

  As soon as the doors closed, he held out his hands. "Turn me loose."

  She hesitated a moment, making him wonder if he was going to have to try to wrest the controller from her again, when she pulled it from her pocket and released his hands.

  Their room was on the fourth floor. She slid the key card into the slot and the door opened. A light came on as they stepped into the room.

  Falkon looked around. It was a large room, decorated in subtle shades of blue and green. A tele-screen took up one wall. There were two large reclining sofas, a desk built into one wall, a fireplace.

  There was a large bedroom and bathroom, and a small kitchen that offered snacks and drinks.

  "Nice place," he muttered.

  Ashlynne nodded. "We need some new clothes." She went to the tele-screen and flipped through the channels until she found an all-night shopping channel. She looked through their catalog, picked out several changes of clothes, underwear and shoes, then turned to Falkon. "Pick out whatever you want."

  He opted for a pair of black pants, a gray long-sleeved turtleneck sweater that would hide the collar around his neck and the manacles on his wrists, and a pair of calf-high black boots.

  "Is that all you want?" Ashlynne asked.

  Falkon nodded. "I'll pay you back."

  "There's no need." She confirmed their order and ended the transmission.

  "Yes, there is."

  She sighed. There was no point in arguing with him. "I'm hungry." She picked up the phone and dialed the main desk. "Do you want anything?"

  "Sure. The thickest steak they've got and all the trimmings."

  He went to look out the window while she ordered. The city was brightly lit, a maze of streets lined with tall buildings, their mirrored windows reflecting the light. A pair of monorails snaked overhead. Despite the late hour, the streets were crowded. Like most big cities, the stores and entertainment centers here were open twenty-four hours a day.

  Tomorrow he would be free. The first order of business would be to find a way to get rid of the shackles that branded him a prisoner, then he would need to find a transport that would take him to Romariz. And Drade.

  Drade. For the first time, be began to think he might actually have a chance at the revenge he craved so desperately.

  There was a knock at the door and when he opened it, an android handed him several packages. Falkon signed for the delivery, then carried the boxes into the bedroom and dropped them on the floor. One way or another, he would pay her back.

  A few minutes later, a bell rang in the kitchen, signaling the arrival of their meal.

  Ashlynne looked at Falkon expectantly, but he made no move toward the kitchen. With a sigh of resignation, she went into the kitchen and opened the servet door. Picking up the tray, she wondered why she had even considered the possibility that he would wait on her. Months of slavery in the bowels of the mine had not made a slave of him. She doubted if anything could.

  She carried the tray into the living room and sat down. Uncovering the tray, she placed the dishes on the table.

  Sitting down beside her, Falkon hit the control on the arm of the sofa, and the tele-screen came to life. He selected an all-news station, and there was Drade, bigger than life. Jayson looked impressive as hell in his uniform, his medals all shiny, his dark brown hair cropped short.

  Falkon leaned forward, everything else forgotten, as he listened to what his old enemy was saying.

  "Following the unprovoked attack on Tierde, Romariz was quick to offer support. Clean-up has begun." Drade smiled into the camera. He'd always had more than his share of charm, and he poured it on now. "A new shipment of prisoners from Daccar has been assembled, and the mine will be fully functional again within the next week, assuring that there will be no shortage of the black crystals."

  "Thank you, Commander Drade. In other news…"

  Falkon shook his head. Quick to offer support, indeed. He wouldn't be surprised to learn that Romariz had been behind the attack in the first place. Troops from Romariz had probably been hovering nearby, waiting to step in as soon as the Hodorian Army had completed its attack. Romariz would assume control, not only of the mine, but of the star base, offering its protection from further attack. Tierde was a small, peaceful planet with a small population. Its people would have no recourse but to accept. After all, they had signed a peace treaty with Romariz; and once Romariz was in power, there would be no way to get rid of them short of all-out war. Falkon swore softly. To his knowledge, the only planets in the quadrant that were still free of Romarian rule were Daccar, Polixe, and Cherlin Four.

  "Falkon? Is something wrong with your dinner?"

  "What?" He glanced at Ashlynne.

  "Is something wrong? You're not eating."

  "No, everything's fine." He stared at the food on his plate, determined to enjoy the meal. "Just fine."

  "What are you going to do when you leave here?"

  "Settle an old score." He pushed the plate away, his appetite gone.

  "You mentioned that once before, but you never told me with whom."

  "Drade."

  "The man on the news?"

  Falkon nodded. "He's the bastard who killed my family."

  "And you won't rest until he's dead, will you?" She looked at him thoughtfully a moment. "I'll never see you again, will I?"

  "No." He smiled at her as he ran the backs of his fingers along her cheek. "That should make you happy, Princess."

  "Yes, it should." But it didn't. She thought of the time they had spent together. He had saved her life, comforted her when she was sad, dried her tears, treated her as an equal instead of a useless decoration, made her feel, made her think, shown her that she had more courage than she had ever imagined. Kissed her…

  With a clarity that was sudden and startling, she realized she was in love with him.

  Falkon frowned as he watched the play of emotions move across Ashlynne's face. Her gaze met his, open and honest, hitting him with the force of a laser blast, and he knew in that moment that he didn't want to let her go, that he didn't want to see her married to another man. He wanted her for himself, had wanted her from the moment he had first looked up and seen her staring down at him, her eyes wide with horror and pity.

  He stood up slowly, walked around the table, and reached for her. She went to him willingly, everything she was thinking, everything she was feeling, shining in the emerald depths of her eyes.

  "This will never work." His hand cupped her cheek.

  "I know." Her arms slid around his waist.

  "I'm a wanted man." His fingertips slid down her neck, resting in the hollow of her throat. He could feel her heart beating there, its rhythm increasing at his touch.

  "I'm engaged to Niklaus." She stood on tiptoe, pressing her body against the hard length of his.

  "I won't rest until my family is avenged." His hands slid over her shoulders, down her back, his fingers running lightly up and down her spine.

  "I know." Her hands slid under his shirt, moving restlessly up and down his back. She loved the way his skin felt beneath her palms, the sudden intake of his breath when she touched him.

  "Ashlynne." Her name was a low groan on his lips as he lowered his head, his mouth covering hers in a desperate, hungry kiss that stole the breath from her lungs and the strength from her legs.

  She leaned into him, wanting to be close, closer, wanting all of him, his hands and his lips, his heart and his soul.

  His mouth was like fire, his tongue a living
flame, and she reveled in it, craved it, devoured it as if it were the elixir of life itself.

  He was murmuring her name, raining kisses on her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, filling her with a wild abandon, a primal pulsing need that would no longer be denied.

  She wanted to laugh with the wonder of it, cry from the overwhelming sense of joy that filled her heart and soul with both pleasure and pain.

  Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her down the hallway and into one of the bedrooms. He sat down on the edge of the bed, then fell back on the mattress, carrying her with him, so that her body covered his. His hands tunneled into her hair, cradling her head.

  And then he kissed her again and yet again, and the fire between them burned hotter and brighter.

  She lifted his shirt, drawing it over his head and tossing it aside, so that she could run her fingers over his chest, press kisses to his throat, his shoulders, feel his skin grow hot beneath her touch. She kissed the number four branded on his arm, a fierce ache growing inside her for the pain he had suffered. His desire for her was evident, and she thrilled to the knowledge and the power it awakened within her.

  He unfastened her dress, drew it down over her hips, his gaze hot as he tossed it aside and removed her undergarments.

  "Beautiful," he murmured as he bared her body to his gaze. "So beautiful."

  She moaned as he kissed her breasts, then drew her down on top of him and kissed her again, and again.

  "Ashlynne…" His voice was ragged with want and desire and need.

  "Don't stop."

  "Are you sure?" He gazed up at her, his eyes dark with passion. "I don't want to hurt you." His knuckles brushed her cheek. "I don't want to do something you'll regret later."

  "I'm sure." She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him gently. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

  Murmuring her name, he rolled onto his side, carrying her with him.

  She sighed as their bodies came together, warm flesh to warm flesh. "I love you," she murmured. "Do you know how much I love you?"

  "Ashlynne… I don't deserve you. You're fine and beautiful and I have nothing to offer you. No home, nothing."

  "You'll be my home," she whispered fervently.

  "And I'll be yours."

  And with those simple words, she stole his heart and his soul.

  He made love to her gently, tenderly, aware that this time, the first time, would be something she would always remember. He worshiped her with his hands and his lips, adored her with every touch, every caress, whispered that she was beautiful, that he needed her, wanted her, with every fiber of his being, every breath in his body.

  And when he took her, when his body at last merged with hers and they hovered on the edge of the world, he said the words he had never thought to say again, saw the tears well in her eyes as he whispered, "I love you."

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ashlynne sighed as Falkon hugged her close. Never, she thought, never had she imagined love would be like this. Never had she dreamed it would be as wonderful, as thrilling, as soul-shatteringly beautiful.

  She ran her fingertips over his chest, lifted her hand to his mouth, felt his lips move against her palm.

  "Are you all right?" he asked. "I didn't hurt you?"

  "No." She felt herself smiling and couldn't stop. "You didn't hurt me."

  He turned on his side. "What are you thinking?"

  She ran her hand over the collar at his throat, her smile widening. "I'm thinking you're still my slave, Number Four."

  "Am I?" His voice was a growl.

  "Yes, and as such, you must do my bidding."

  "Ah," he said. "As always, your wish is my command, princess, only tell me what you want."

  He watched her cheeks turn pink as she whispered, "Then I wish for you to make love to me again."

  "So soon?" He lifted one brow, unable to resist teasing her, yet pleased beyond words that she wanted him again, as he wanted her.

  "The thought doesn't please you?"

  "I shall always do my best to please you, my lady," he replied fervently. "Only tell me what you wish me to do."

  She sighed, as if she were giving it some thought. "Kiss me, then," she said.

  "Where?"

  "Here." She touched her lips with her finger. "And here." She touched her cheek. "And here." She touched her left breast, moaning softly as his lips moved from her mouth to her cheek to her breast.

  "Anything else?"

  "Surely a good servant need not be commanded in all things," she whispered breathlessly.

  "Then I may do this?" His hand stroked her leg from knee to thigh. "And this?" He drew his hand slowly upward, over her belly until it covered her breast.

  And then he rose over her, his eyes hot with desire as he made love to her again.

  She had thought the first time the most wonderful, the most magical experience of her life. But with every kiss, with every caress, he showed her that she still had a lot to learn.

  Ashlynne rolled onto her stomach, her elbows propped on his chest. "We really have to find a way to get rid of that collar," she said. "I'm sorry, you know, for all the times I hurt you."

  "It's all right. I probably had it coming."

  "Oh, you did," she said, grinning. "But I'm still sorry." She ran her fingertips over the collar. "How will we ever get it off?"

  "I'll find a way. I'm sure there's someone on Trellis who'll remove it, for the right price."

  "We'll have it done, no matter what the cost."

  "I don't have any credits, remember?"

  "I do, remember?"

  He shook his head. "No. I'll find a way."

  "I think you forget yourself, Number Four," she said.

  "Is that right?"

  "Indeed," she said imperiously.

  He laughed softly. "Very well, my lady, I am at your command."

  "Good. I find that dreadful collar offends me deeply, and I wish you to be rid of it as soon as possible."

  "For once, my lady, we are in complete agreement."

  "Falkon, how did you ever put up with me?" With her finger, she traced the number four branded on his arm. "I treated you so horribly." Leaning down, she brushed her lips over the brand. "Did it hurt very badly?"

  He grunted softly. "Bad enough."

  "I wish there was some way I could undo all the pain you've endured, all the misery I caused you."

  "Come here, sweetheart," he said, tucking her beneath him, "and I'll show you how you can make it up to me."

  She smiled up at him as she gathered him into her arms. "Your wish is my command."

  Ashlynne woke in his arms, smiling. It had been a night she would never forget. They had made love and slept and loved again, and each time had been more wonderful than the last. Never had she felt so treasured, so beautiful or desirable. He made love to her with infinite tenderness, arousing her, filling her, completing her.

  She glanced out the window. The sun was just rising. Turning her head, she looked at the man sleeping beside her. How handsome he was! And how much she loved him. When had it happened, she wondered, when had he become important to her? Maybe she had loved him all along, she mused, for he had been in her every thought since the day she first saw him lying in a pool of his own blood.

  She felt her cheeks grow hot when she realized he was awake and watching her.

  "Morning, princess," he drawled.

  "Hi."

  "You all right?"

  "I'm better than all right," she replied, and felt her cheeks grow even hotter.

  He grinned, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

  "You don't have to look so smug about it," she muttered.

  "No? Tell me I'm not the reason you're blushing."

  "You're not. I just feel good this morning."

  "Uh huh. And I guess I had nothing to do with that, either."

  "Oh, all right, you had everything to do with it. Are you happy now?"

  "Yes
, ma'am," he replied.

  He was laughing now, and she was laughing with him. Happiness bubbled up inside her, warm and effervescent. What more could she ask of life, she thought, than to wake up in his arms every morning for the rest of her life?

  "What are we going to do now?" She hadn't meant to ask, was afraid to hear the answer.

  Falkon took a deep breath, let it out in a long sigh. Until this very moment, he had intended to go after Drade, to exact vengeance for the deaths of his wife and child, even if he lost his own life in the process. But now… he looked at Ashlynne and knew he couldn't leave her, knew that without her, life would not be worth living.