Nuworld: Claiming Tara (8 page)

house where the quilting session had been held. Reena had
arranged for her to care for at least fifteen children. Tara
had never obtained an accurate count of the kids running
around the backyard, for she had spent the entire morning
changing diapers, nursing scratches and pulling children
out of trees when they cried for help. Although fun at first,
after several hours she had been ready for Reena to rescue
her.

It was hard to conceal her relief when Reena finally came
out the back door of the house with several other women
and announced they were through with yet another quilt.

“What is all of this?” Tara adjusted the folded piles of
material, trying not to drop anything as she followed Reena
to the groundmobile.

Reena laughed and glanced over her shoulder as several
of the women gathered children in the yard. She leaned in
to Tara when she spoke again.

“It’s the makings for the next quilt. I’m thinking anyone
could see that.” Reena didn’t speak loud enough for anyone
else to hear, and Tara got her point.

A
typical Gothman woman
would
grow
up
in
this
domestic life.
Tara
fought
not to
feel sorry for
their
suppressed existence. Oddly enough, these women didn’t
look unhappy. Maybe it was because they didn’t know what
they were missing. It dawned on Tara that most likely was
why the leaders of Gothman had made a point to not allow
outsiders in, or why their people never travelled beyond
Gothman borders. If
these women knew how much
different their lives might be, certainly they’d never be
happy living like this any longer.

Tara managed to put all the materials in the back of the
groundmobile in a somewhat orderly fashion. She watched
Reena mingle
with the
other
women,
who
now were
chattering
outside
the
white
stone
house.
It
was so
permanent the walls of the house actually disappeared into
the rocky ground it was built on. From what Tara heard,
their conversation wasn’t about anything important. They
discussed what someone had worn the other day, and a
pregnancy that didn’t appear to be normal. Tara knew she
should listen and learn the ways of these women. After all,
that is what a Runner did when entering a new community.
But her thoughts continually strayed.

The
image
of
a
tall,
powerful-looking
lord
kept
distracting her thoughts. Although she knew the Gothman
lord maintained a society where all women were docile and
simple, a woman like that would be boring. She’d offer him
more excitement than any of these women ever would.
Maybe like these women, Lord Darius simply didn’t know
what he was missing.

Tara snapped out of her thoughts, and chastised herself
for the direction her thoughts were heading.
“Our next stop is the Bryton home,” Reena announced
cheerfully.
The woman around them began whispering and studied
Tara.
When Tara had agreed to stay at the Bryon home, Reena
had decided it was imperative that she teach Tara more
about being Gothman. Tara wasn’t sure if it was because
she’d told Reena about attacking the guard or because
Reena liked the company. Tara doubted it had anything to
do with Reena worrying about Tara’s life being in danger
under Lord Darius’ roof.
She
looked
down
when
she
climbed
into
the
groundmobile. This time she wasn’t trying to appear
submissive. Tara heard the women whispering loudly. Her
cheeks flamed. Tara tried hiding her embarrassment at the
realization that she would soon be all the Gothman women
talked about.
“You aren’t having second thoughts now, are you?”
Reena asked once she sat in the groundmobile next to
Tara. “We agreed to take you after the quilting was over.”
Tara noticed worry in the older lady’s tone. “No, of
course not.” Tara tried to reassure Reena with a smile. “We
talked about this last night. Moving into the Bryton home
and helping Hilda with the housework will be an ideal way
to learn more about Gothman.”
“Not to mention you will see much of Lord Darius,”
Reena added, giving Tara a side look as she started the
groundmobile.
“True.” Tara wouldn’t deny an attraction to the man. But
there was a lot about him she didn’t like. “He has my bike,
Reena. I need to keep an eye on him.”
The two guards on duty in front of the Lord’s house
didn’t pay any attention to Tara and Reena this time as
they parked and ascended the open room stairs. Hilda
greeted the two of them with open arms and laughter.
“Reena, you are too good to an old woman to share such
a fine young lady with me.” There were tears in Hilda’s
eyes. “You’ll be treated quite fine, Tara. Don’t worry. Do
come inside, both of you. Reena, come see Tara’s room. It’s
ready for her.”
Hilda and Reena entered the house. Tara followed them
carrying the cloth bag Reena had given her, with her
Runner outfit under all her new Gothman dresses. Her
laser was in the bag, too. She had decided not to wear it
while watching all the children. Now in Lord Darius’ home,
she felt exceptionally naked without it. They climbed the
wide staircase and walked to the end of the hallway where
Hilda inserted a key into a door.
“This is my wing of the house.” Hilda led the two women
through the door. She pointed to a closed door. “This is my
room. You’ll be next to me. As safe as can be. Don’t you
think, Reena?”
Tara was amused about their concern with her safety.
Hilda seemed to be emphasizing this to Reena as there was
a problem. She smiled to herself at the thought of two old
women worrying about her well-being. She had a bit of
trepidation over agreeing to live in Lord Darius’ home, but
for very different reasons than Reena and Hilda.
Hilda opened the farthest door at the end of the hallway.
It was a beautifully arranged bedroom. The carpet was as
thick as the carpet in the living room. A single bed had
several comforters spread over the top, and a knitted
blanket was folded at its foot. A bureau and dresser were
on one wall and a small couch against the other. Two glass
doors led to a balcony that looked over the backyard and
provided an excellent view of the rocky hills spreading for
miles beyond the yard. The room was glorious. But for all
its fancy furniture and niceties, Tara liked the fact that
part of it opened to the outside the best.
“You consider this your home,” Hilda said. “Arrange the
room as you please. You unpack your bag, and I’ll see
Reena to the door. Come down when you’re ready, and I’ll
show you what chores you’ll be doing. It’s a true pleasure
to have you here, child. I just know you’ll be happy.”
“She’ll bring life back to this house if she does anything,
that much is certain.” Hilda told Reena when they started
down the hallway.
“I know she was only with me a quarter-cycle, but I’m
going to miss her.” Reena replied.
“You’re the one that brought her into town and went all
about showing her off. You knew you’d lose her by doing
that.” It was the last Tara heard as the door at the end of
the hallway closed.
Tara set down her bag on the bed and looked around the
room once again. She walked to the glass doors, opened
them, and stepped onto the balcony.
Patha, guess where I am now.
Here she was, a Runner,
inside the home of the Lord of Gothman. She smiled, rather
satisfied with her
Age Of Searching.

Gothman were actually tolerable people. Both genders
needed a lesson in equality, though. Gothman women
needed to stand up to their men. If the women here had a
clue about how their lives might be, they would give up this
submissive lifestyle in a second.

What kind of thinking was this?
She wasn’t here to
change this culture, just observe it,
right?
It would be
wrong to allow some type of attachment or loyalty to these
people. No Runner ever did that on their
Age Of Searching
.

Maybe it was time
to leave. It wouldn’t be hard to get her
motorcycle now. She’d seen the men move it out of the
shed and put it out in the backyard, unattended and
unguarded. Maybe if she sneaked out after dark. She
would be out of Gothman territory within no time.

Tara mulled this over as she stared at the beautiful hills
rolling farther than the eye could see. The rocks jutting up
from the earth added to the glory of the view.

Far in the distance, someone raced over the hills on a
motorcycle. The rider dodged rocks that sprang up from the
earth with a skill equal to her own. The rider was familiar
with the terrain. She imagined the thrill of the ride.

Tara wanted to be on her bike and take the same path.
She wasn’t familiar with the terrain, yet it called out to
accept its challenge. Her hands itched with the temptation,
and she rubbed them on the soft material of her dress. But
for now, she was expected downstairs. Tara turned from
the tantalizing scene. At least until nightfall she would
continue with her role. Then she’d make a decision about
staying or leaving.

The bureau held ample space for the dresses Reena had
given her. The older woman had spent a great deal of time
over the past quarter-cycle creating this wardrobe. Tara
gazed at her Runner clothing at the bottom of her bag. The
black
leather
looked
so
appealing
compared
to
the
Gothman dresses. If anyone found her Runner clothing,
however, it would mean her death. Leaving them at Reena’s
would endanger the woman’s life. Too many people moved
through that house for Tara’s liking.

Tara stroked the silky headscarf and fingered the bright
red symbol of her clan. She wrapped her Runner clothing
around the landlink from her bike. Tara searched for an
appropriate hiding place when she heard voices coming up
the stairs. She stuffed her Runner clothes and landlink
back into her bag and shoved it under the bed.

Hilda and the young boy Tara had met in the alley were
climbing the stairs when Tara reached them.
“So, you’re coming
to live with me now?” The
boy
grinned from ear to ear. “Do you want to see my room?”
“Ah, all in good time, my child.” Hilda patted the boy on
the head. “Tara, have you met Torgo?”
“Only for a moment.” Tara almost caught herself
clasping her hands behind her back, the pose of a warrior.
Instead, she relaxed her features and stared at innocent
gray eyes. “We’ve not been properly introduced, though.”
“Well, this is my youngest son, Torgo. He is quite the
handful.” She hugged the boy and ruffled his hair. “Go
play, child. Tara and I have work to do now.”
“Will you spend time with me later?” Torgo asked Tara.
“I look forward to it.” Tara winked at the boy and his
face lit up before he took off running down the hallway.
“It’s too bad for the boy. He has no papa to teach him
how to
be
a
man.
His mama might
as
well be
his
grandmama, and Darius is so busy he’s no time for him,
that’s for certain.” Hilda walked down the stairs with Tara.
“He’s a good boy, high-spirited like they all were at that
age.”
“Maybe I could spend some time with him,” Tara offered.
“Ah, that would be nice. It’s the training of a man he
needs though.” Hilda led Tara to the kitchen and opened
up a back pantry. “Well now, here are all the supplies.
You’ll be cleaning the house for now. Over time, I’ll teach
you how to prepare Lord Darius’ favorite dishes. Until then,
I’ll keep doing the cooking. I like to cook.” She laughed and
patted her stomach. “I like to eat my cooking too. It
wouldn’t hurt you to eat my cooking either.” She laughed
again, then turned as the back door opened.
Lord Darius entered the room, his hair wind-blown. Had
he been the rider in the hills?
“Good. Your help has arrived.” Darius studied the young
woman standing in his kitchen.
The light material of her dress made it easy for him to
see how toned her body was. This woman hadn’t birthed a
child. She sure didn’t look like she spent a lot of time
sitting and chatting the day away like so many other
Gothman women either. She was fit and trim, her breasts
perky, and her body toned. She wasn’t soft and round like
so many Gothman girls her age. Although a bit on the thin
side, every inch of her appealed to him. He imagined her
full of energy, a bit on the defiant side, and possibly even
bordering on insubordinate. Darius never considered those
attributes in a woman before. But this woman, who was
sizing him up as he did the same to her, might be a nice
diversion to the overly submissive ladies he’d been
presented with so far.
He noticed the intelligence in blue eyes fighting not to
return
his stare.
She
might
even be
able
to
hold
a
conversation. From the spark in those sapphire eyes—that
dared him to end his mental evaluation—he imagined she
might even be somewhat of a challenge.
That thought damn near made his blood boil. The last
thing he needed was to get hard while standing in his
mama’s kitchen. Darius tried focusing on Tara’s faults.
Whoever had taught her how to be a lady had failed. She
didn’t appear shy or humble in his presence, like every
other lass he’d known since boyhood. Unfortunately, he
found her demeanor refreshing. Darius smiled, and decided
an untrained woman might prove a welcome distraction.
For the first time, Tara saw a genuine smile light up
Darius’ face. It transformed his already distracting good
looks. Darius was incredibly sexy. Her insides melted from
her
toes upward, and a recognizable
warmth
started
between her legs and spread too fast to stop. With the
sudden onslaught of awakening desires, it seemed the very
air around her sparked with lustful currents that spiked
the tiny hairs on her skin to attention. She licked her lips
and met his gaze.
“Reena just brought Tara to me,” Hilda was saying and
shut the pantry door, then faced her son. “And where have
you been? Traipsing around the countryside alone again, I
see.”
“The hills called out to me. And, I needed to rest my
brain.” He glanced from his mama to Tara. “Have you ever
been on a motorcycle, Tara, niece of Reena?”
His direct question took Tara by surprise. The wrong
answer might give her away. Gothman women didn’t ride
motorcycles. So why would he ask? The fact that she’d
been on a motorcycle for as long as she could remember,
probably longer if she knew Patha, didn’t matter. To admit
that would raise suspicion. There was no way he should be
suspicious right now. Although, his question suggested he
might have doubts about who she really was. Tara started
to smile while working up a satisfactory denial to redirect
what he might think of her.
Hilda spoke first. “For Gothman’s
sake,
Darius. Of
course she hasn’t been on a motorcycle before. Look at her.
She wouldn’t know the first thing.”
Darius didn’t have to look. He’d already memorized her
face, her figure, and the rest of her, even though the parts
he ached to see the most were tantalizingly beneath her
loose fitting dress. Tara was unlike any woman he’d ever
seen. He was a trained warrior, the leader of all Gothman,
skilled at controlling his feelings, his emotions. What he
saw before him was a challenge. Tara hadn’t answered
when he asked if she’d been on a motorcycle. Instead those
sapphire eyes had looked amused. This had to be the
Runner he allowed to escape in the forest—he felt it in his
gut—and would prove it with time.
“I’m looking at her.” Darius said, giving Tara his full
attention. He decided it was time to start proving his theory
as to who this woman really was. “Come with me, lass. I’ll
take you for a ride on a motorcycle.”
“Darius!” Hilda protested. “I would think…we were just
starting—”
“Ah, your housework can wait.” Darius grabbed Tara’s
arm and turned to the door leading outside.
Tara almost yanked free when Darius grabbed her arm.
Winters of training made it instinctive to defend against
such a touch. Her body tightened before she thought. She
made the effort to relax. Taking a deep breath, she didn’t
pull away. When he opened the door he glanced at her.
Powerful gray eyes devoured her, and she didn’t look away.
Tara worried she heightened suspicion by almost pulling
free when the lord took her arm. As she met his gaze,
however, identity wasn’t what was going through the lord’s
thoughts at all. Instead, Tara saw unbridled passion. She
stepped through the door and gulped in fresh air. She
would definitely need to keep a clear head.
It also helped when Lord Darius let go of her arm. She
walked
alongside
him but
gave
herself
space,
which
allowed a better view of the man and his actions. He was
tall,
very tall,
with large,
solid
muscles
through
the
shoulders. His golden hair hung in curls well past his ears.
But it was those intense gray eyes that sealed the package.
Darius was probably a formidable warrior to rule Gothman.
He was also a sexual predator who would likely welcome a
fight before fucking her. Knowledge she’d be smart to keep
in mind.
“I’ve something to show you.” Darius walked in the
direction of his bike, which was parked next to the shed.
The shed that harbored her bike!
Tara ached to throw open the doors and make sure her
motorcycle
was
alright.
Instead,
she
appraised
his
motorcycle. It was much larger than her bike, and was of
Gothman style with its long narrow seat that came up in
the back. It wasn’t designed for speed. Instead it was large
and sturdy—designed
to
handle
the
rough
terrain it
travelled each day.
It was hard to stay calm and not rush forward, when
Darius walked around his bike and opened the shed door.
“Look at this, if you will, my lady.” He walked into the
shed and pointed. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”
“Both are very nice. Are they yours?” Tara was incredibly
relieved to see the shed wasn’t locked. Nor did the door
squeak when he opened it.
“It’s a Runner’s bike.”
Darius sounded proud as he ran his hand over her bike
that she’d owned and taken very good care of for almost ten
winters.
“Are we going to ride it?”
“I wish we were.” Darius looked at her. “It has some kind
of lock on it. Once I break the code on it, I will. You can
believe me on that one.”
“I do believe you.” Tara stroked her bike. She was glad to
see it wasn’t damaged. It didn’t appear tampered with
either. She did a visual inspection and fought the urge to
squat next to it and reassure herself that all was still in
working order.
“Let’s go.” Darius walked out of the shed and shut the
door after her.
Reluctantly she followed to his bike. Tara stifled a gasp
when large hands encircled her waist and lifted her onto it.
“You’re heavier than you look, lass. You’re quite the thin
one. I would think you’d be light as a feather, but every
muscle of yours is built up as if you did man’s work.”
He looked at her with those deep gray eyes, so unlike
any shade she’d ever seen before. They held her captive
when she tried to look away. When he dropped his hands
to his sides, she almost wished he would put them back on
her.
“I’ve worked hard all my life.” Tara forced herself to look
at the ground.
“I’d like to hear about that life sometime,” he said and
eased on the long seat in front of her.
Tara stifled a groan when the smooth leather of his
pants rubbed her inner thighs. The man didn’t offer her a
lot of room behind him, and her body was forced up
against his backside. Her legs spread wide to accommodate
him, which caused her dress to slide up, exposing a fair
amount
of
leg.
The
position
left her feeling incredible
vulnerable, a feeling she didn’t like. At the same time, being
smashed up against this virile man’s backside sent a rush
of heat through her too strong to ignore. There wasn’t time
to sit and evaluate her conflicting emotions however.
“Hold on tight, my lady.” Lord Darius started the bike
and took off quickly…very quickly.
Tara’s inner thighs locked against his legs. She grabbed
him and pressed herself against his back.
Darius would enjoy the mission of exposing this Runner.
And yes, she had to be the Runner. Any Gothman woman
would have fallen off the bike and landed flat on her back
from his quick take off. Yet Tara had remained glued to
him as his bike left the ground to fly over the uneven, rocky
ground.
If Tara hadn’t been an expert rider, he would have killed
her right there on the spot. Maybe that was what he had in
mind. He raced over the first hill too fast for their ride to be
a casual view of the countryside. She hugged his body,
moving as he did, keeping her head down. Taut muscles
rippled underneath her hands, and she fought not to move
her fingers over them.
They rode faster than she expected, almost as if racing
into battle. The wind slapped her hair against her face and,
when she tried to look up, made her eyes water. Lord
Darius’ motorcycle rumbled loudly as he went flying over
hills and around rocks. If it weren’t for the many winters
she’d been on a bike, she would have flown off to her
death.
After
some
distance,
Darius slowed
his
bike
and
stopped. They were at the base of a very rocky hill, and a
gutted path disappeared into the pines leading up it.
Tara allowed her hands to move slowly down Darius’
chest until she rested them on either side of his waist. His
body was as fine tuned as the machine they sat on. He
would make an incredible adversary, or an incredible lover.
Now wasn’t the time to decide which. She was being tested
here, and she planned to do her fair share of testing in
return.
“You’ve been on a bike before. Don’t deny it. I wouldn’t
be surprised if you rode rather well, too.”
Lord Darius turned his head, but his expression wasn’t
readable. She might hide the truth about who she was but
a Runner would never lie about her warrior skills.
“Good thing then,” he said as if she’d answered him.
“Are you ready for a climb?”
“I think so,” Tara said, trying to sound unsure, but she
was thoroughly excited about the fact that they were not
through with the ride.
“Wrap those arms around tight now.”
Darius didn’t go as fast this time. He used caution on
the rocky path and the bike groaned under their weight as
he revved the motor and pushed the large motorcycle up
the
dangerous
path.
He
enjoyed Tara’s
body pressed
against him. When she did as she was told, and wrapped
her arms around his waist once again, he grinned, knowing
she couldn’t see his expression. No woman had stirred him
like this before. Not only did he want her body, for some
reason he had a desire to know her thoughts. The reason
came to him too quickly for him to process. It was simply
there. Gothman women all thought the same thing. They
wanted a good claim, a nice home, and children. They
would raise those children and spend the rest of their lives
talking
endlessly about
the
goings on—the
gossip
in
Bryton, who was doing what, how they were doing it, and
who they were doing it with. If Runner women wanted the
same thing as Gothman women, what was this woman
doing on his land?
“I’m going to show you a very private place. I’ve been
coming here since I was a boy. I hope you won’t think less
of me if I say I like to escape from ruling this land once in a
while.”
“No, my lord, I won’t think that.” Tara also watched the
road, if the jagged path was actually that. She didn’t have
to press against him now and was able to focus more on
her surroundings.
He skilfully navigated the bike around each rock and
protrusion without any instruction from her, although she
did have to bite her tongue a time or two to keep from
pointing out large rocks. Eventually, the path led them to a
clearing at the top of the rugged hill.