“I’m not going to give you a blow by blow.”
“Not that every man on this ship isn’t already imagining it, but suit yourself.” He only took half the shot this time before he said, “You had me destroy her dress. Did you give her something else to wear?”
“Yes.”
“And have you fed her?”
“Of course,” Kryton snapped. “I’m not a complete idiot.”
“Have you given her something to do? She has to be frightened and bored. Not a constructive combination.”
“Her boredom works to my advantage. I want her to imagine what will happen the next time I return.”
Tonn shook his head, disapproval clearly written on his face. “Why continue with this pretense? Tell her why she’s really here and see if she—”
“I’m Rodyte, her sworn enemy. I’m playing the role she expects of me.”
Challenge arched Tonn’s brow as he stared back at Kryton. “You’re covered in her scent. Are you still playing a role? You’re being damn convincing.”
Kryton sighed. “Our compatibility is more of a challenge than I anticipated.”
“So tell her the truth.”
“I can’t risk it!” He paused for a deep breath, not wanting to take out his frustration on his best friend. “The chances of her offering to help me are basically nonexistent. However, I think she’ll barter for her freedom. But to agree to barter, she has to believe she’s my war bride, not a potential mate.”
“If you persist with this pretense, you’ll ruin any hope you have of claiming her as your mate. Is that a chance you’re willing to take?”
“Do you have a better idea?” he snapped, exasperated by the situation. He had two conflicting goals. Advancing one crippled the other, and each was vitally important to him. How in hells’ rings was he supposed to choose?
“A battle of wills cannot be won, my friend. She knows you won’t really hurt her.”
Kryton closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. His muscles were tense, his mind chaotic, and he ached as he had never ached. “Then what should I do?” He opened his eyes, more than ready for a different strategy. “Give me specifics.”
* * * * *
Despite Skyla’s determination to remain strong and resolute, she cried herself to sleep. And even sleep was no escape from her exasperating captor. They wrestled and argued in her dreams with just as much chemistry as in reality. She awakened feeling nearly as exhausted as she’d been the night before.
She used the sonic shower, hoping to rid her body of his touch and the memory of his mouth moving over her flesh as if he had every right to explore her. The plush robe was her only garment and the soft fabric rubbing against her skin ignited her imagination all over again. It was torture, sensual, sweet torture, picturing all the things they could do together.
Pacing the cabin was futile. The floor space was so limited, she couldn’t create a soothing rhythm. So she sat on the compact sofa and stared at the walls. With nothing to engage her mind, she was left fixating on her situation. A battle of wills, that was what Kryton had called this.
Kryton . The name echoed through her mind and his image intensified. He was unlike any male she’d ever encountered before. He was undeniably savage, as the rumors warned. And yet, he was intelligent and cunning, preferring to negotiate for her surrender rather than taking her by force.
She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling trapped and claustrophobic. He would win. She already knew the outcome. It was only a matter of time. There was no escape from this, no ending that didn’t include being vanquished by a much stronger force. She would be an outcast, her life shattered by circumstances she couldn’t control. She was breathing too fast, causing her head to spin and her vision to blur.
Sheer exasperation dragged a scream from her throat. The sound was shrill and shocking in the silent room. She would not fall to pieces and reveal her weakness to the enemy! Through simple force
“Not that every man on this ship isn’t already imagining it, but suit yourself.” He only took half the shot this time before he said, “You had me destroy her dress. Did you give her something else to wear?”
“Yes.”
“And have you fed her?”
“Of course,” Kryton snapped. “I’m not a complete idiot.”
“Have you given her something to do? She has to be frightened and bored. Not a constructive combination.”
“Her boredom works to my advantage. I want her to imagine what will happen the next time I return.”
Tonn shook his head, disapproval clearly written on his face. “Why continue with this pretense? Tell her why she’s really here and see if she—”
“I’m Rodyte, her sworn enemy. I’m playing the role she expects of me.”
Challenge arched Tonn’s brow as he stared back at Kryton. “You’re covered in her scent. Are you still playing a role? You’re being damn convincing.”
Kryton sighed. “Our compatibility is more of a challenge than I anticipated.”
“So tell her the truth.”
“I can’t risk it!” He paused for a deep breath, not wanting to take out his frustration on his best friend. “The chances of her offering to help me are basically nonexistent. However, I think she’ll barter for her freedom. But to agree to barter, she has to believe she’s my war bride, not a potential mate.”
“If you persist with this pretense, you’ll ruin any hope you have of claiming her as your mate. Is that a chance you’re willing to take?”
“Do you have a better idea?” he snapped, exasperated by the situation. He had two conflicting goals. Advancing one crippled the other, and each was vitally important to him. How in hells’ rings was he supposed to choose?
“A battle of wills cannot be won, my friend. She knows you won’t really hurt her.”
Kryton closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. His muscles were tense, his mind chaotic, and he ached as he had never ached. “Then what should I do?” He opened his eyes, more than ready for a different strategy. “Give me specifics.”
* * * * *
Despite Skyla’s determination to remain strong and resolute, she cried herself to sleep. And even sleep was no escape from her exasperating captor. They wrestled and argued in her dreams with just as much chemistry as in reality. She awakened feeling nearly as exhausted as she’d been the night before.
She used the sonic shower, hoping to rid her body of his touch and the memory of his mouth moving over her flesh as if he had every right to explore her. The plush robe was her only garment and the soft fabric rubbing against her skin ignited her imagination all over again. It was torture, sensual, sweet torture, picturing all the things they could do together.
Pacing the cabin was futile. The floor space was so limited, she couldn’t create a soothing rhythm. So she sat on the compact sofa and stared at the walls. With nothing to engage her mind, she was left fixating on her situation. A battle of wills, that was what Kryton had called this.
Kryton . The name echoed through her mind and his image intensified. He was unlike any male she’d ever encountered before. He was undeniably savage, as the rumors warned. And yet, he was intelligent and cunning, preferring to negotiate for her surrender rather than taking her by force.
She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling trapped and claustrophobic. He would win. She already knew the outcome. It was only a matter of time. There was no escape from this, no ending that didn’t include being vanquished by a much stronger force. She would be an outcast, her life shattered by circumstances she couldn’t control. She was breathing too fast, causing her head to spin and her vision to blur.
Sheer exasperation dragged a scream from her throat. The sound was shrill and shocking in the silent room. She would not fall to pieces and reveal her weakness to the enemy! Through simple force
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