Keeper of the Heart

  “You are in a position ideal for two things, woman. I wonder if the one will make me forget the other.”

  “Falon!” Shanelle gasped, every particle of her being stiffening at the sound of his deep voice. And then, when his words penetrated, “Falon, no!”

  “You still think to tell me no? I think not.”

  His hands came to rest on her backside, proving that nothing she could say was going to stop him from doing what he was going to do. But what was he going to do? One of two things? Oh, Stars, she didn’t have to ask what they were, and both terrified her. Punishment or joining, she wanted neither at his hands. And the whips were right there . . .

  No, he wouldn’t whip her. Warriors didn’t hurt their women, and he considered her his—at least Kan-is-Tran warriors didn’t hurt women. But Falon was a Ba-Har-ani, and she still knew next to nothing about those eastern warriors—except their punishments did differ from what Kan-is-Tran women could expect. Perhaps he considered her desertion worth a whipping. And what did it matter? Even a spanking would be horribly painful from a man of his tremendous strength.

  “I hear no words from you, Shanelle. Are you sorry you left Sha-Ka’an?”

  “I’m only sorry you found me.”

  Her eyes flared wide at the immediate stinging smack on her bottom. “That was the wrong answer, kerima. Do you care to try again?”

  “Falon, let me go!”

  “I will—when your responses please me.”

  “Do you want me to lie to you?” she cried.

  “No, it is honesty I want, so let us find the responses of your body instead.”

  His words confused her, until she felt his hands move around her hips to her stomach, and then slide slowly up her rib cage to her breasts. Shanelle sucked in her breath, trying to ignore the sensations aroused by his touch, but it was impossible. Despite her fear, which was very real, he could still bring her body to life. Her nipples hardened beneath his palms, her insides swirled in anticipation, her pulse quickened. How could this happen every time he touched her?

  His body bent over hers suddenly, giving her the feel of his leather bracs against her bottom, the bare skin of his chest against her back. And then his arms wrapped around her middle and gently hugged her as his cheek pressed against her spine.

  “I missed you, woman. Thoughts and imaginings of what I would do to you when I found you are all that have kept me from despair—and from going mad in the confines of that metal machine I was forced to travel in.”

  Shanelle dropped her head in near defeat at those words. But she couldn’t let his feelings get to her— or her own. And he hadn’t said the words yet that would defeat her and make her his lifemate. Until he did, there was still the chance that she could keep it from happening. And she still didn’t want it to happen. He just wasn’t right for her, no matter that he had become her father’s choice for her, no matter her body’s response to him. She knew it. Why couldn’t she make him accept it?

  “Falon—?”

  “No,” he cut her off curtly. “Your words rarely please me. Best we let your body speak for you now.”

  The post only reached the top of Shanelle’s thighs, rather than her waist, as it was designed to do. Falon’s fingers were able to slip between her legs from the front of her, so he did not have to lift himself away from close contact with her back. This he did now, finding and igniting her heat, drawing a groan from deep in her throat. She still fought it, pulling on the clamp in the wall she was cuffed to. But she’d tried that earlier, and even this new desperation didn’t give her the added strength to break her bonds. She was at Falon’s mercy—a warrior’s mercy. They had none.

  She dreaded it, expected it, and it happened. The fight swiftly drained out of her. The simulation of joining that his fingers were enacting was too pleasurable to ignore. She even forgot that pain was going to follow.

  She didn’t want to be taken at all, but particularly not like this, where she couldn’t even move. But her body didn’t give a damn what she wanted, any more than Falon did. And he knew it. Her tiny moans were telling him. Later she would feel humiliated about letting him know how much she really wanted him, but right now she just didn’t care.

  Shanelle was nearing the point of begging when Falon leaned into her further to reach the clamp her wrists were attached to, and with little effort yanked it out of the wall. She straightened as he did, but more slowly, and felt one of her ankles cut loose before she stood erect, the other freed a moment later.

  As she slipped the cuffs off the broken clamp so she could at least separate her arms, she experienced a moment of gratitude that Falon wasn’t as merciless as she had thought him. It wasn’t the kind of release she was expecting, or needing at that point. The kind she did need now was still in control of her senses, and when she turned around and got her first look at Falon since he’d entered the room, it escalated.

  The sight of him always did have the strangest effect on her. This time it joined with her need, and without the slightest hesitancy or encouragement from him, she practically leaped into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck and pulling his head down to press her lips to his. It was so compelling, this desire to taste, to touch, to give him anything he wanted. It so overwhelmed her that it was a while before she realized Falon wasn’t returning her enthusiasm, let alone her kiss.

  When she leaned back to look at him in confusion, he set her away from him. “Is this honesty at last, Shanelle, or an effort to avoid punishment?”

  That was as good as a bucket of ice water dumped over her head. And she realized suddenly that that was exactly his intent.

  “You had no intention of joining with me here, did you?” she demanded.

  “When I take you, woman, there will be a bed— one that does not move—and privacy I can be assured of.”

  “Then why did you make me want you?” She fairly shouted the words in her frustration.

  “You needed reminding of your true feelings, those beneath your fear. And finally you have spoken the truth. You still want me.”

  “Not anymore I don’t, you farden jerk!”

  She turned away from him and nearly stumbled over the two unconscious Sunderians. It occurred to her then that Falon had actually rescued her, come to her aid when she desperately needed it— or thought she did. She still didn’t know what Lanar had intended doing, not that it mattered now. But because of her, Shanelle was back where she started, stuck with a man impossible to handle or reason with, and who got his point across in ways she wasn’t likely to ever forget. She would definitely like to repay that Sunderian witch for that.

  Falon’s latest “point” was still affecting her. If he would touch her now in an intimate manner, she’d probably melt all over him, and that absolutely infuriated her. How dared he do that to her, make her want him and then not do anything about it...? Oh, Stars, that was one of the reasons she hadn’t wanted a Kan-is-Tran warrior for her lifemate, the very thing Tedra suffered whenever Challen found it necessary to punish her! It hadn’t been as bad, certainly. She hadn’t been brought to the screaming point. But she had still just been treated to what she had thought Ba-Har-ani warriors didn’t practice.

  She swung around now to glare at Falon, and found him holding out her clothes to her. She snatched them from him, grateful that it was a Kystrani outfit, which went on as quickly as it could be removed.

  But the suspicion that had occurred to her wouldn’t go away, and the moment she was finished covering her nakedness, she demanded, “Were you punishing me, warrior?”

  “When it is time for the punishing, you will not be in doubt that you have received it.”

  She stared at him, not sure what to think, but still too angry to be afraid or cautious. “And what makes you think I will accept your punishment, whatever it is? As far as I’m concerned, I haven’t done anything to deserve it.”

  Falon lifted a dark brow. “Then you had your father’s permission to leave Sha-Ka’an?”

  “I ha
d my mother’s permission,” she replied with a great deal of triumph.

  “Which she likely has been made to regret the giving of by now.”

  Shanelle paled. Why hadn’t it occurred to her that Tedra would end up catching the brunt of Challen’s displeasure? Her mother must have known it, and still Tedra had let her take Martha, the very thing that would prove to Challen that Tedra had helped Shanelle leave.

  “I think I’m beginning to hate you, Falon Van’yer,” she said between gritted teeth.

  She’d managed to get a frown out of him. “Best you know now that I will not tolerate this habit you have for stating untruths.”

  She frowned right back at him. “That wasn’t an untruth. In fact, I no longer think it, I’m quite sure now I definitely am beginning to hate you. And best you know that any habits I have I’m keeping, with or without your approval, which I don’t give a damn whether I have or not. Stick that in your boots and suck on it, why don’t you?”

  She held her ground as he approached her. Nor did she flinch when his hand lifted, though it was only to take her chin to raise it so she couldn’t avoid his eyes. And those eyes weren’t blazing with anger, but were merely thoughtful as they gazed down at her.

  “It is interesting how you deal with frustration, Shanelle.”

  “I’m furious, not frustrated,” she retorted hotly. “There is a difference.”

  “You are upset,” he stressed, “because I did not see to your need.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” she snorted. “What you made me feel was next to nothing and forgotten already.”

  “Again you give me untruths. Shall I prove it?”

  She tried to step back from him, but his grip tightened. She swallowed her pride and whispered, “No,” then was amazed to hear him confess.

  “I could not prove it, not without taking you right now, for my need exceeds yours, kerima. I want you so much I hurt with it. Yet to hear you admit that you wanted me is worth any pain. Nor could I have refrained from touching you to assure myself you are real—and mine. Do not begrudge me that, and the small discomfort it has caused you. Easier would it have been to stop breathing than to keep my hands from you.”

  Why did he have to say things like that? If she hadn’t been frustrated, she was now, in having to stomp down the unwanted emotions his confession caused, and not succeeding completely. The pleasure she felt from his words just wouldn’t go away.

  And then it hit her, that what he was feeling, he was in control of, and obviously much better than she was. He was controlling his passion!

  How dared he do that, get rid of one of her prime objections to him? How was she supposed to stand firm in her resolve when he did things like that? But everything else was still there, enough to convince her she still couldn’t be completely happy with such a thoroughly domineering male. He was going to try and change her. He’d already said so. And she’d have pain and humiliation waiting for her every time she did the slightest thing wrong. No way was she going to meekly accept that. And he still hadn’t proved that he wouldn’t lose his control in a crucial moment, only that he was getting better at it.

  That managed to squash the pleasure she’d been feeling, and back came the anger, that she’d let his words affect her at all. She knocked his hand aside and moved away from him before she insisted, “I’m not experiencing any discomfort, warrior, just disappointment that you’ve found me, which you can’t do anything about unless you disappear the way you came—without me.”

  He made a sound that was very close to exasperation. “I will break you of this need you have for telling untruths, woman; this I promise you. Yet do we have other things between us that must be attended to first.”

  “A reprieve?” she shot back dryly. “How fortunate can I get?”

  “Shanelle—” he began in an unmistakable warning tone.

  But she cut him off before she got another promise she didn’t like. “If one of those things is to get out of here, the door happens to be locked. So you’ll have to ask that traitor who Transferred you here for assistance—which reminds me. If you’re listening, Brock, and I know you must be, I hope Martha never speaks to you again. I know I certainly won’t.”

  “You are angry with your father’s computer?” Falon asked with some definite amusement lacing his tone now.

  “I’m angry at every male under creation, but don’t worry about it. I’ll only take it out on you.”

  He suddenly laughed. “This I am pleased to know. It would prove tiring if I must fight every male you offend.”

  “And what happens when I offend you?”

  “This you must find out firsthand.”

  It figures, you farden jerk, but she said that only to herself.

  Chapter 29

  It didn’t take long at all for Shanelle to realize that Falon had no intention of asking for Brock’s assistance to get them out of there. His careful examination of the locked door proved it.

  “Transferring would be quicker,” Shanelle finally pointed out.

  Falon didn’t turn around to reply, “Transferring will wait until it is absolutely necessary.”

  And that told her that the big brave warrior had a definite aversion to Transferring, which she would have found amusing if she weren’t still so angry. She moved to his side to complain, “We’re stuck in here behind a locked door. You don’t consider that necessary?”

  His answer was to glance at her for only a second before he took one step back and kicked the door down. Shanelle mumbled under her breath, “Well, I guess not,” and a little louder, “So much for specially made doors that even seven-foot barbarians can’t break.”

  The only satisfaction Shanelle got was in catching Lanar unawares. The Sunderian female had been sitting on her couch gloating to herself while she finished her drink. The crash of the door caused her to leap to her feet, and like her sister, she wasn’t prepared for the sight of a live Sha-Ka’ani warrior, though she’d been forewarned of their size. She simply stared boggle-eyed at Falon, giving Shanelle the opportunity to approach her without being noticed.

  Falon came closer himself, asking, “Are you the one responsible for the way I found my woman?”

  Suddenly Lanar wasn’t frightened anymore. She was grinning. “Did you appreciate it? She said you would want to punish her for running away from you. I decided to make it easy for you, figuring you would be along shortly. But I would have let you in,” she added reproachfully. “You didn’t have to break my door down.”

  “We do not bind our women for punishment, nor do we punish them in the way Shanelle was prepared for. What you did was to terrify the woman under my protection, and you would severely regret this were you a man.”

  Lanar experienced only a moment’s fear before she realized he wasn’t going to do anything to her. “It sounds like you’re too lenient all the way around,” she sneered. “The woman deserves much worse than you’ll obviously be giving her. I should have seen to the matter myself before you got here. She needs that arrogance of hers whipped out of her.”

  Shanelle tapped Lanar on the shoulder at that point. Lanar turned toward her in annoyance, then paled, having apparently forgotten that Shanelle was not a Sunderian female of Sunderian size.

  “Care to tell me about what I deserve?” Shanelle asked in a softly menacing tone. “No? What about this arrogance I’ve supposedly got—which by the way can’t possibly be greater than yours?”

  Still Lanar didn’t answer. In fact she was looking kind of sick. Shanelle found that satisfying, but not nearly enough for what she’d gone through.

  Casually, she remarked, “You know, Lanar, I think you’ve been worried about the wrong Sha-Ka’ani. That warrior there might not make you regret what you did to me, but I don’t have any such qualms.”

  Lanar finally found her voice, though it was definitely shaky. “You—you wouldn’t dare.”

  “Wanna bet?” Shanelle replied as she drew back her arm and let her fist fly.

&nbs
p; The little woman collapsed back on the couch, out cold for a while. Shanelle hoped she’d broken her jaw, but she doubted she’d be that lucky. Only that still wasn’t enough as far as she was concerned. She bent over and searched through Lanar’s pockets for the Altering rod she was sure these power-hungry females would keep handy, and sure enough, she found it.

  Behind her, Falon said, “Thank you.”

  Shanelle straightened with the short blue rod in her hand. “For what?”

  “For doing what I could not.”

  “I didn’t do it for you, babe, I did it for myself. Nor am I finished yet.”

  And she marched into the other room to squat down by the two Sunderian males, who were still unconscious. Sublims had proved eons ago that it wasn’t necessary to be awake to hear something and have it implanted in your subconscious for future reference. Shanelle made use of that fact now.

  When she finished and stood up, it was to find Falon blocking the doorway. “What did you do, woman?”

  “Made sure the next time Lanar comes into this room she’ll end up being treated exactly as I was today, and probably how her slaves get treated every day. It ought to be an eye-opening experience for her, though she may be too mean-spirited for the lesson to do any good.”

  She passed him to return the rod to Lanar’s pocket so she wouldn’t suspect that her slave-handlers had been tampered with. Falon was right behind her again when she straightened this time, and he wasn’t looking too pleased now.

  “You know the use of that device?” he asked her.

  “It was explained to me, yes.”

  “Did you know the female called general would try to use it on me?”

  “I knew she was going to try. Looks like you didn’t give her the chance to.”

  “She used it, yet did I not have an understanding of her language for it to work. How is it that this one who looks like her could speak to me in Sha-Ka’an?”