His Highness the Duke (5 page)

―They‘re very big, aren‘t they?‖ Nadja said to Morrigan.

―Yes, the men are very large,‖ Aeron whispered again, still talking to herself as

she thought of the bridegroom with the bowed head. A servant lifted a brow as he

looked questioningly at her, but she waved him away. She listened for more of the

conversation, but her eavesdropping proved fruitless and she finished her meal in

silence.

Music lifted over the campground, growing loud enough to be noticeable. Aeron

took a quick drink of the berry liquor. The low rhythm produced an almost euphoric

effect on the brides. Their voices lowered and disappeared. Eyes turned down the

platform to where the handsome bachelors were gathering before them. Aeron watched

as the first man stepped forward to claim his bride. The woman came around the table,

slipped her hand into his and allowed him to lead her away.

Not all of the men who had been in line were in the tent. Perhaps they hadn‘t

connected with anyone and decided not to marry this year. Another man came forward,

then another. Riona had a smirk on her face as she watched, clearly finding much

amusement in the process. Aeron swallowed, nervously waiting for it to be over so she

could make inquiries as to who was in charge to deliver her information before the

Galaxy Brides ship took off.

When much of the room had cleared, a single man remained at the tables. He‘d

caught her attention when he first entered the area—the man with the bowed head.

Now his gaze was trained fully on the women, as if studying them. His crystal necklace

glowed brilliantly. A jolt of electricity ran through her and she forced her eyes away

from the loinclothed specimen. Heat filled her cheeks even as she averted her gaze. He

was so big and strong and handsome and scantily clothed.

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Aeron clenched her hands in her lap, waiting for him to grab his woman and go.

She didn‘t like what his half-naked presence did to her. It had been a long time since

she‘d used transmitters to exchange pleasure essences with a man. She found that most

males preferred the actual physical act of sex to a sensation exchange. However, ‗real

sex‘ was something Aeron could not participate in. When she did meet someone, her

way of doing things turned out to be more of a novelty experience for them rather than

any deep connection they had to her. Since she had a hard time letting people get close,

those opportunities didn‘t present themselves often.

Her body heated as she detected the last groom to finally move. He stepped on

the platform at the far end of the table and began to walk past the remaining brides. It

was strange, considering the others had gone directly to their chosen mates. Had he

forgotten who he‘d picked? The thought caused her to laugh softly to herself. Suddenly,

heat forged its way through her body, coursing through her blood. The laughter died in

her throat. She held very still, not daring to look up as the man moved passed. Only, he

wasn‘t moving. He was standing before her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she

heard Riona chuckling.

When he didn‘t move, she glanced to the side. His naked waist was directly in

front of her. The tight muscles were so close she could reach out and touch his oiled

flesh. A finely carved navel drew her attention to the rippled plains leading up the

center of his chest. She stared at his stomach, not moving, not speaking, and probably

not breathing though she was too dumbstruck to actually check her vital functions at

the moment.

Move,
her numbed brain ordered him. Her lungs began to burn and her head

became dizzy. She blinked, fighting the lightheadedness swimming in her head. No, she

was definitely not breathing at the moment.

* * * * *

Bron looked at the bowed head of the bride, waiting for her to look up at him.

His eyes had found her as he‘d first come to the tent, but as she wouldn‘t look directly

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at him, he couldn‘t be sure she was actually his. He hoped. He assumed. He wanted it

to be her, but he had to be sure first. To be certain he had crossed before the remaining

women, watching their faces, feeling his emotional reaction to them, studying the glow

of his crystal.

And, as he stepped before the raven-haired beauty, he was convinced. He didn‘t

need the crystal to tell him he‘d found the one. Every part of him pulled toward her like

a Yorkin to a baited trap of fresh meat. His stomach was tight and already he felt the

torturous lift between his thighs when he looked at her. Oh, how he ached. The years of

desperation propelled his desires to agonizing proportions. He doubted he would make

it through the night without claiming her in a completely raw, potent, beautifully

perfect physical sense. Unfortunately for him and his desires, tradition dictated he wait

until after the wedding night to do the things he wanted to her. This was a night of

discovery and acceptance, not claiming. To take her body would be to shame himself

and his family‘s honor. As the oldest brother and the High Duke, he could not afford to

tarnish his family name.

Dark hair was pulled up beneath her short veil. Her front locks were cut short

against her forehead. The delicate line of her neck and shoulder was formed of soft,

touchable skin. He wanted to run a finger down the length of her neck and feel the

pulse he saw thumping gently against her throat. She wasn‘t built hard like his kind.

Rather she appeared almost fragile, as if she would break when he lifted her into his

arms. He made a mental note to only touch her with gentleness for fear she would

actually shatter into tiny pieces.

It didn‘t appear that she was breathing, or that she had any intent of

acknowledging him. Her head turned slightly to the side, so that he could see the angle

of her jaw and corner of her mouth, but little else. Why would she not look at him?

―Move,‖ he detected her to whisper in the old star language. The sound was very

soft and low, but as a shifter he could hear such things easily. Was she angry with him

for not acknowledging her earlier and now sought to slight him in the same way? He

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His Highness The Duke

watched the steady beat of her pulse and listened to the shallow intake of her breathing.

Her muscles were not tense. She didn‘t appear upset.

It occurred to Bron that perhaps this meekness was a custom of her people and

so he finally made the first move. He reached to touch the smooth flesh of her cheek.

The very glance of it against his fingers caused a pleasurable sensation to course

through him. Wanting more, he let his fingers glide over her face to turn her attention

up toward him.

Dark blue eyes found his. For a moment he just looked at her. She wasn‘t smiling

at him. In fact, she had little expression on her face whatsoever. As much as he wanted

to keep touching her, he knew he should let go before he disgraced himself all over the

bridal table.

Withdrawing his hand, he said, ―I am Bron, come.‖

Her mouth opened, then closed, opened, then closed. Finally, she nodded once.

―Greetings, Broncome. I am Aeron.‖

Bron‘s mouth twitched at that. ―My name is Bron.‖

She glanced around before looking up at him. Hesitantly, she answered,

―Greetings, Bron. I am Aeron.‖ Her words were slowed, as if she didn‘t expect him to

understand them.

―Come, Aeron,‖ he said. The sound of laughter caught his attention, and he

glanced over to see a woman with auburn hair and light brown eyes watching in

merriment. Her features carried some of the same shapes as Aeron‘s, but not enough

that he would stake his life on their relation.

Aeron didn‘t move.

―Come,‖ he repeated, holding out his hand.

Slowly she stood. Instead of walking around the table to join him, she leaned

forward and whispered, ―I‘m sorry. I don‘t understand what‘s going on. Aren‘t you

supposed to go find your bride? The one that made the crystal glow?‖

At that he frowned. How could she not know? He glanced down at his crystal. It

pulsed brightly, not that he needed the necklace to tell him what he already felt deep

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inside. Well aware that he was being watched, he leaned forward and whispered back,

―Come. We will discuss this further in private.‖

Aeron glanced around, apparently coming to the same conclusion he had. She

nodded once and made her way around the table. The auburn-haired woman laughed

louder. The sound was punctuated by the slap of her palm on the wooden tabletop.

Bron had the strangest urge to throw something in her direction, though he would

never act upon such an impulse.

Before he could offer his hand, Aeron pulled her arms closely against her chest

effectively cutting him off. Her steps were hurried as she led him from the banquet

table, away from the onlookers. If he expected her to relax when out of the spotlight, he

was mistaken. She only tensed more when they were somewhat alone.

―Come,‖ he said, urging her to follow him to his tent.

She glanced around before nodding once. Her steps were slow, almost

agonizingly so. He wanted to pick her up and cart her off, but remembered his decision

to be gentle with her. Surely such rough handling would not be welcomed by one as

delicate as she was.

―Where are we going?‖ she asked, the words low as if they were being followed.

―Come,‖ he answered, unable to say anything else. Traditions were very clear

and he did not wish to test the gods‘ tempers by breaking them. Already he had said

too much to coax her to come with him. It had taken him seven ceremonies to find her.

He would not,
could
not jeopardize his happiness now. The woman would be his only

chance. If he didn‘t win her tonight, his life might as well be over. Without her, he

would not have love, or a wife, or children. An almost desperate feeling gripped him

and he tried to breathe past the pain and fear trying to invade his chest.

―Did I do something wrong? Am I in trouble? If this is about my paperwork, I

can explain what happened, if you tell me what happened.‖ The woman stopped

walking. ―Please, where are you taking me? I promise there is a good explanation for

whatever it is I have done.‖

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Bron placed a hand on her arm and urged her to walk beside him once more. He

smiled to ease her nervousness. ―Come.‖

* * * * *

Aeron wasn‘t sure where she was going or why. She could assume it had

something to do with the paperwork her sister turned in for her. What if the Federation

picked up on her name in one of their routine scans of the airwaves? What if they had

someone in the area to pick her up? She glanced at the sky. There weren‘t any ships

hovering that she could see.

Her new friend apparently wasn‘t going to tell her anything. Perhaps his

knowledge of the star language was limited. Most Federation planet dwellers could

speak it, but this wasn‘t a Federation planet. If the sounds coming from around the

bonfires were any indication, he spoke a guttural local dialect with harder syllables and

gruffly flowing words. There was an exotic charm to the sound, but she imagined the

unfamiliarity of it would soon get tiresome to a non-speaker.

She hugged her arms tightly to her chest, careful to keep an eye on the incredibly

large warrior man leading her through the makeshift village of tents. The hand on her

arm sent little sparks of warm awareness through her. She swallowed nervously,

unsure what to do. If not for Riona‘s annoying laughter, she might not have even

followed him this far. The man‘s deep gaze did something to her insides. They made

her all melty and trembly. Neither sensation was bad, per se, but they definitely were

not welcomed.

The path between two tents narrowed and he let go to walk slightly ahead of her.

She allowed her gaze to roam over his back. It was as well defined as the front side. The

loincloth brushed along the tops of his thighs, swaying ever so gently against his tight

ass. Every inch of him was smooth and strong—thick arms, broad shoulders, steady

legs, purposeful gait. She took a raspy breath of air, trying to calm her overactive libido.

It was only when he stopped before one of the pyramid tents and lifted the flap,

that she realized he‘d led her to the end of the campground. The dark colossal forest

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blocked the distance from view. Aside from the glow of bonfires in the night sky, she

couldn‘t see the banquet area through the field of tents.

Not sure why, she ducked inside. The large pyramid‘s ground was covered with

fur rugs. It crushed softly beneath her slippers as she stopped walking. Bron moved

behind her, but she didn‘t look to see what he was doing. Her attention was caught by

the giant bed in front of her. The massive piece of furniture stood in the middle of the

tent. Silk hung from the top of the pyramid to encase the bed.

Torchlight flickered erotically along each surface. Slowly, her eyes moved to the

side. In each of the three corners were three very different arrangements, each blatantly

erotic and impossible to ignore. The first was a table of food and wine pitchers. It wasn‘t