Shamara (27 page)

He turned back to her. She stared straight ahead, her body rigid. He wasn't getting through to her. He'd said all he could say, and he hadn't dented her emotional armor. The chasm between them gaped too wide, fraught with pain and doubt.

"Think about it." He walked to the panel and left her cabin. He'd lost her—completely and irrevocably. No way in the Fires would she help him locate and navigate the wormhole now.

That should have been the most crushing setback. Yet just as painful was the knowledge that she'd shut him out of her life. That he was alone again, cursed forever to a solitary existence, as he upheld the duty that had been entrusted to him.

A duty to his people that he would never forsake. Even at the sacrifice of his life.

*  *  * 

Eirene berated herself for foolishly allowing Jarek to get close to her. So close, in fact, that he was now able to communicate with her telepathically. Hadn't Rayna warned her about the dangers of her powers, as well as the evil nature of men? Hadn't her experience with the selfish, cruel males of Travan taught her
anything
?

She should have followed her instincts, respected her fears about her powers. Ignoring her inner warnings, and those of Rayna, had caused her this hardship.

Even now, she felt the pain of the Shielders, felt the lure of Jarek's words.
Everyone should have a sanctuary…a haven, a refuge from the ugliness of our universe.
His words had touched her, moved her, despite everything that had transpired. The man could seduce a stone carving with his visions and his charisma.

She rolled over, pounding her pillow. She was far from being made of stone. She'd let herself be charmed by Jarek, by his beguiling smile, his boyish good looks, and his magnetism. She'd tried to convince herself he was a different sort of man. Safe. Secure.

Oh, she realized he was a far cut above the men of Travan. He truly cared about something outside himself, and he lived by a code of honor, even if it was based on his own laws. He was dedicated to the Shielder cause, unswerving in his convictions, and probably an excellent leader.

But that type of unyielding strength had its negative side. Jarek had displayed his violent nature when he brutally beat her uncle. He might have killed Vaden, if Sabin hadn't halted him. Until that point, she hadn't thought of Jarek taking lives. But now that the infatuation had cleared, she realized killing would have to be a necessary part of his existence. Warranted or not, he had murdered her father.

Thinking of her father brought tears. She hadn't known him well, but he'd been decent enough the few times he'd visited her at the women's compound on Travan. One time he had brought her an elaborately carved comb. He hadn't traded her when she reached puberty, as many fathers did their daughters.

Because of that, she'd always hoped he would allow her to leave Travan and study healing. But he'd left on one of his many jaunts seven seasons ago and never returned. Her uncle had informed her he had died, but offered no details. Now she knew the truth about his death.

She had also discovered Jarek's true nature. In her naiveté, she hadn't realized how ruthless he was, just how far he would go to achieve his goals.

Rayna had been right. Eirene must learn to depend only on herself. She must put aside her feelings for Jarek, must distance herself from him. She wanted to be a healer, to uphold the sacredness of life, not destroy it. A man like Jarek san Ranul could never honor that philosophy, not when he deemed killing necessary.

She curled up on the bunk and lay there a long time, trying to deal with the reality and the pain. When Jarek came to her cabin later in the day, her emotions betrayed her logic, surging to life at the sight of him. Her feelings for him were uncontrollable, just like her wretched powers.

He stared at her, and for the briefest moment, she thought she saw the flash of pain in his eyes, before his face hardened into that mask of implacable resolve that she despised. "We'll arrive at Aldon in one and a half cycles," he said quietly.

He turned and left, leaving her with her grief and fears and—far worse—the ludicrous longing to fling herself into his arms, in search of the comfort and protection she'd known there, if only for a few moments in time.

She forced that crazy urge from her mind, but the one word Jarek had shared kept haunting her.
Shamara.
The word resonated inside her, touching a chord deep within her soul.

Shamara.
Sanctuary. Spirit, was there a sanctuary somewhere in the universe for her?

Lani was standing by the hatch when Gunnar entered the ship. He didn't acknowledge her, striding past as he whipped off his cloak. Clearly, he didn't want to speak to her. Of course, he'd pretty much avoided her ever since she had suggested they play show-and-tell. The man had absolutely no sense of humor— or of sensual adventure.

Not one to put up with such rudeness, she followed him, her high heels clicking down the corridor—a clean one, at that. "Commander," she called. "A word with you, please."

"Not now," he growled, handing his cloak to Karr and entering his personal cabin.

Well, really!
Pursing her lips, Lani followed right behind him, slipping inside before the panel closed and he could secure it.

He turned, glaring at her. "I said, not now."

She wasn't the least intimidated by his fierce scowl or his massive body towering over her. Tilting her chin up to see him better, she put her hands on her hips. "Well, it has to be now. I need to talk to you before this ship takes off."

"Is it important enough for you to abandon the
courtesy
you insist upon?" he demanded, unbuckling his utility belt. "These are my private chambers, and I did not invite you here."

Lani smiled to herself at his mocking of her insistence on good manners. During their time together, Gunnar had displayed high intelligence and quick wit, traits she greatly admired. But he still didn't have a clue about the workings of the female mind, so she figured she held the advantage.

"Yes, it is," she answered. "I understand we're on Saron."

He tossed his belt onto a nearby console and sank into a large leather chair. "Not for much longer."

My, she loved the way the man occupied a chair. And the way he dressed for forays into outside societies: his high-gloss black boots and skin-tight leggings, which enhanced his masculinity to perfection. With an effort, she forced herself to focus on the matter at hand.

"Saron is my home," she explained. "I've enjoyed my visit on your ship—for the most part, anyway—but now I'd like to get back to my life, and my career."

"No." He began pulling off a boot.

Her mouth fell open in an indignant huff. Quickly regaining her composure, she scooted over to the chair. "What do you mean,
no
? I can't put my life on hold indefinitely while you cling to the ridiculous idea that Celie Cameron lied to you and that your honor has been compromised."

Gunnar leaned back, his expression completely calm.

She had the sudden insight that he was becoming accustomed to her little strategies to get him stirred up. "Help me with my boots," he ordered.

"What? I am not your personal servant, Commander."

He remained unperturbed. "Is that a no?"

"It certainly is."

"And it is not negotiable?"

Lani narrowed her eyes. What was he up to? She took another tack. "Oh, it's negotiable, Commander," she purred, running a blue-tipped ringer down his bare chest, "if I get something out of it."

He scowled and pushed her hand away. "I do not know what you are up to, woman, but I will tell you this: You are still my hostage, and
that
is also not negotiable. You will not leave this ship." He yanked off the boot, tossed it to the side, and started on the second boot.

"Why not?" she demanded. "I've been your hostage for fifteen cycles. I think that's more than enough. Surely by now you believe Captain Cameron was telling the truth, that she knew nothing of your bride's whereabouts."

He tossed the second boot on top of the first. "After today, I am more convinced than ever that Captain Cameron knows something."

So Lani's suspicions were correct. The sudden change of direction to Saron had something to do with Eirene. "You got information about your bride?" she guessed.

Gunnar's expression darkened. "It is nothing that concerns you."

"Of course it concerns me. I'm a hostage because of your missing bride. I have the right to know anything that affects how long I'll remain your hostage. The Intergalactic Humanities Act from the Varian Summit of the fourth millennium states that prisoners of war have the right—"

"You are not a prisoner of war!" he roared. "This is not about war. It is a trade deal in which I have been cheated. I tire of your ceaseless chatter about that Intergalactic gibberish, of which I have every intention of ignoring. Leor law dictates my decisions."

"As does Leor honor," Lani reminded him. "The honorable thing would be to tell me the truth. I deserve to know."

"I can see it would be the expedient thing to do," he growled. "If I want you to go away and leave me in peace."

She shimmied triumphantly. "So tell me, what happened? Did you get word of Eirene?"

Gunnar threw himself back in the chair, legs splayed wide. "Lady Eirene's uncle caught up with her on Saron. He took her into custody. But before a healer arrived to confirm the status of her virginity, Jarek san Ranul attacked Vaden and his men, and made off with her. There is no trace of either of them."

Oh, this was so exciting, and so romantic. Lani mulled things over. "Just because Eirene and Jarek are together doesn't mean Captain Cameron knew about her."

"Captain Cameron was seen with san Ranul on Saron immediately after she arrived there from Travan. Her ship was the only one departing Travan when Lady Eirene disappeared. I believe those events to be related."

Lani thought of Eirene in the Pleasure Dome, and how Jarek had been her first client. Her instincts told her it was a chance meeting. "It could be a coincidence."

"I do not believe in coincidence. I prefer to leave nothing to chance." Gunnar rose and began to remove his leggings.

With a sigh of feminine appreciation, Lani watched him skim them off his well-muscled legs, leaving him in his usual loincloth. "So, is virginity all that important in a bride?" she asked casually.

"Absolutely."

She rolled her eyes. The man had archaic ideas about morals and sex. "Why? Why should Leor men and women deny themselves the pleasure of sex?"

"Because abstinence shows we have total control over every function of our bodies, including sexual urges. Leor men want a woman who has proven she is mentally and physically strong, able to master her baser urges."

"Do you have sex after you're mated?"

"Of course we do," he said, returning to the chair. "It is necessary for procreation."

"Oh, I see. Repress all sexual desire for Spirit knows how many seasons and then suddenly turn on the heat? How is that working for you?"

A mocking grin curved across his striking face. "Just fine, for those of us capable of control and self-discipline."

Oh! He was too smug for his own good. Lani braced her hand against the back of the chair and leaned toward him. "I've got news for you, Commander. Sexual urges are not any different from hunger or the need to sleep. They're natural and normal. You don't turn them off and on like running water."

"They can be totally controlled," he insisted.

She moved forward until she was standing between his legs. "Prove it."

His eyes narrowed. The sudden stiffness in his body indicated his discomfort at her nearness. "It is not something that can be proven."

"Oh, but it is. I can show you just how wrong you are."

"I will not play your games."

"Are you afraid I'm right and you're wrong?" Lani challenged.

That got him. He sat straighter, pride in every magnificent millimeter of his body. "Certainly not."

"Then I challenge you to a battle…of the senses."

Before he could object, she ran her hands over his shoulders and down his magnasteel biceps. He didn't react, but she felt the tension radiating from him. "Does that bother you?" she asked.

"No."

She trailed her fingers down his chest, swirling them around his dark brown nipples. They hardened into tight nubs. "How about this?"

His fingers dug into the arms of the chair. "No."

Just keep fighting it, big guy.
She sank to her knees, letting her hands drift lower, and stroked his muscular thighs. His tension increased, as did the bulge beneath his loincloth. "Is this affecting you?" she purred.

"Absolutely not," he said, his voice strained.

Lani did what she had wanted to do ever since she'd seen Commander Gunnar of Dukkair. She slid her fingers beneath the loincloth, pushing it to the side, and uncovered the masculine jewels of the chief of the Dukkair clan.

Oh, my.
The loincloth had been deceiving, masking the true size of him. He was … so …
enormous.
And very aroused, despite his insistence to the contrary.

Her respirations and heart rate were becoming very rapid, and other parts of her anatomy were very much affected. She took him in both hands and expertly stroked him. He grew even larger, if that were possible.

"How…about that?" she said breathlessly.

"No…effect…at all," he groaned, shifting in the chair.

So much for finesse. Her big barbarian was about to meet his match. Deciding to take matters out of her hands, Lani leaned down and let her very capable mouth take over.

As for Gunnar, he had very little to say after that. At least not anything coherent.

*  *  * 

"I don't understand it," Jarek muttered, punching key pads. "Based on the information Celie gave me, we should be approaching Aldon. The nav module showed our exact location just a moment ago. Now I'm not getting any readings at all."