The Captive (17 page)

With a clarity that was sudden and startling, she realized
she was in love with him.

Falkon frowned as he watched the play of emotions move
across Ashlynne’s face. Her gaze met his, open and honest, hitting him with the
force of a laser blast, and he knew in that moment that he didn’t want to let
her go, that he didn’t want to see her married to another man. He wanted her
for himself, had wanted her from the moment he had first looked up and seen her
staring down at him, her eyes wide with horror and pity.

He stood up slowly, walked around the table, and reached for
her. She went to him willingly, everything she was thinking, everything she was
feeling, shining in the emerald depths of her eyes.

“This will never work.” His hand cupped her cheek.

“I know.” Her arms slid around his waist.

“I’m a wanted man.” His fingertips slid down her neck,
resting in the hollow of her throat. He could feel her heart beating there, its
rhythm increasing at his touch.

“I’m engaged to Niklaus.” She stood on tiptoe, pressing her
body against the hard length of his.

“I won’t rest until my family is avenged.” His hands slid
over her shoulders, down her back, his fingers running lightly up and down her
spine.

“I know.” Her hands slid under his shirt, moving restlessly
up and down his back. She loved the way his skin felt beneath her palms, the
sudden intake of his breath when she touched him.

“Ashlynne.” Her name was a low groan on his lips as he
lowered his head, his mouth covering hers in a desperate, hungry kiss that
stole the breath from her lungs and the strength from her legs.

She leaned into him, wanting to be close, closer, wanting
all of him, his hands and his lips, his heart and his soul.

His mouth was like fire, his tongue a living flame, and she
reveled in it, craved it, devoured it as if it was the elixir of life itself.

He was murmuring her name, raining kisses on her lips, her
cheeks, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, filling her with a wild abandon, a
primal pulsing need that would no longer be denied.

She wanted to laugh with the wonder of it, cry from the
overwhelming sense of joy that filled her heart and soul with both pleasure and
pain.

Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her down the hallway
and into one of the bedrooms. He sat down on the edge of the bed, then fell
back on the mattress, carrying her with him, so that her body covered his. His
hands tunneled into her hair, cradling her head.

And then he kissed her again and yet again, and the fire
between them burned hotter and brighter.

She lifted his shirt, drawing it over his head and tossing
it aside, so that she could run her fingers over his chest, press kisses to his
throat, his shoulders, feel his skin grow hot beneath her touch. She kissed the
number four branded on his arm, a fierce ache growing inside her for the pain
he had suffered. His desire for her was evident, and she thrilled to the
knowledge and the power it awakened within her.

He unfastened her dress, drew it down over her hips, his
gaze hot as he tossed it aside and removed her undergarments.

“Beautiful,” he murmured as he bared her body to his gaze.
“So beautiful.”

She moaned as he kissed her breasts, then drew her down on
top of him and kissed her again, and again.

“Ashlynne…” His voice was ragged with want and desire and
need.

“Don’t stop.”

“Are you sure?” He gazed up at her, his eyes dark with
passion. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His knuckles brushed her cheek. “I don’t
want to do something you’ll regret later.”

“I’m sure.” She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him
gently. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Murmuring her name, he stretched out beside her and drew her
into his arms.

She sighed as their bodies came together, warm flesh to warm
flesh. “I love you,” she murmured. “Do you know how much I love you?”

“Ashlynne…I don’t deserve you. You’re fine and beautiful and
I have nothing to offer you. No home, nothing.”

“You’ll be my home,” she whispered fervently. “And I’ll be
yours.”

And with those simple words, she stole his heart and his
soul.

He made love to her gently, tenderly, aware that this time,
the first time, would be something she would always remember. He worshipped her
with his hands and his lips, adored her with every touch, every caress,
whispered that she was beautiful, that he needed her, wanted her, with every
fiber of his being, every breath in his body.

And when he took her, when his body at last merged with hers
and they hovered on the edge of the world, he said the words he had never
thought to say again, saw the tears well in her eyes as he whispered, “I love
you.”

Ashlynne sighed as Falkon hugged her close. Never, she
thought, never had she imagined love would be like this. Never had she dreamed
it would be as wonderful, as thrilling, as soul-shatteringly beautiful.

She ran her hand over his chest, lifted it to his mouth,
felt his lips move against her palm.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“No.” She felt herself smiling and couldn’t stop. “You
didn’t hurt me.”

He turned on his side. “What are you thinking?”

She ran her hand over the collar at his throat, her smile
widening. “I’m thinking you’re still my slave, Number Four.”

“Are you?” His voice was a growl.

“Yes, and as such, you must do my bidding.”

“Ah,” he said. “As always, your wish is my command,
princess, only tell me what you want.”

He watched her cheeks turn pink as she whispered, “Then I
wish for you to make love to me again.”

“So soon?” He lifted one brow, unable to resist teasing her,
yet pleased beyond words that she wanted him again, as he wanted her.

“The thought doesn’t please you?”

“I shall always do my best to please you, my lady,” he
replied fervently. “Only tell me what you wish me to do.”

She sighed, as if she were giving it some thought. “Kiss me,
then,” she said.

“Where?”

“Here.” She touched her lips with her finger. “And here.”
She touched her cheek. “And here.” She touched her left breast, moaning softly
as his lips moved from her mouth to her cheek to her breast.

“Anything else?”

“Surely a good servant need not be commanded in all things,”
she whispered breathlessly.

“Then I may do this?” His hand stroked leg from knee to
thigh. “And this?” He drew his hand slowly upward, over her belly until it
covered her breast.

And then he rose over her, his eyes hot with desire as he
made love to her again.

She had thought the first time the most wonderful, the most
magical experience of her life. But with every kiss, with every caress, he
showed her that she still had a lot to learn.

* * * * *

Ashlynne rolled onto her stomach, her elbows propped on his
chest. “We really have to find a way to get of that collar,” she said. “I’m
sorry, you know, for all the times I hurt you.”

“It’s all right. I probably had it coming.”

“Oh, you did,” she said, grinning. “But I’m still sorry.”
She ran her fingertips over the collar. “How will we ever get this off?”

“I’ll find a way. I’m sure there’s someone on Trellis who’ll
remove it, for the right price.”

“We’ll have it done, no matter what the cost.”

“I don’t have any credits, remember?”

“I do, remember?”

He shook his head. “No. I’ll find a way.”

“I think you forget yourself, Number Four,” she said.

“Is that right?”

“Indeed,” she said imperiously.

He laughed softly. “Very well, my lady, I am at your
command.”

“Good. I find that dreadful collar offends me deeply, and I
wish you to be rid of it as soon as possible.”

“For once, my lady, we are in complete agreement.”

“Falkon, how did you ever put up with me?” With her finger,
she traced the number four branded on his arm. “I treated you so horribly.”
Leaning down, she brushed her lips over the brand. “Did it hurt very badly?”

He grunted softly. “Bad enough.”

“I wish there was some way I could undo all the pain you’ve
endured, all the misery I caused you.”

“Come here, sweetheart,” he said, tucking her beneath him,
“and I’ll show you how you can make it up to me.”

She smiled up at him as she gathered him into her arms.
“Your wish is my command.”

* * * * *

Ashlynne woke in his arms, smiling. It had been a night she would
never forget. They had made love and slept and loved again, and each time had
been more wonderful than the last. Never had she felt so treasured, so
beautiful or desirable. He made love to her with infinite tenderness, arousing
her, filling her, completing her.

She glanced out the window. The sun was just rising. Turning
her head, she looked at the man sleeping beside her. How handsome he was! And
how much she loved him. When had it happened, she wondered, when had he become
important to her? Maybe she had loved him all along, she mused, for he had been
in her every thought since the day she first saw him lying in a pool of his own
blood.

She felt her cheeks grow hot when she realized he was awake
and watching her.

“Morning, princess,” he drawled.

“Hi.”

“You all right?”

“I’m better than all right,” she replied, and felt her
cheeks grow even hotter.

He grinned, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

“You don’t have to look so smug about it,” she muttered.

“No? Tell me I’m not the reason you’re blushing.”

“You’re not. I just feel good this morning.”

“Uh huh. And I guess I had nothing to do with it.”

“Oh, all right, you had everything to do with it. Are you
happy now?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

He was laughing now, and she was laughing with him. Happiness
bubbled up inside her, warm and effervescent. What more could she ask of life,
she thought, than to wake up in his arms every morning for the rest of her
life.

“What are we going to do now?” She hadn’t meant to ask, was
afraid to hear the answer.

Falkon took a deep breath, let it out in a long sigh. Until
this very moment, he had intended to go after Drade, to exact vengeance for the
deaths of his wife and child, even if he lost his own life in the process. But
now…he looked at Ashlynne and knew he couldn’t leave her, knew that without
her, life would not be worth living.

“Falkon?”

He heard the tremor in her voice, knew she was waiting for
his answer. “If I asked you to go away with me, would you go?”

“Yes.” She answered without hesitation.

“And if I asked you to marry me, would you still say yes?”

“Oh, yes!”

He laughed softly. “I’ll hold you to it, you know.”

“I hope so.”

“Very well, princess. Tomorrow we’ll leave this rock and go
to Cherlin Four. I have a friend there. We can stay with him until we decide
what to do.”

Cherlin Four. She had never been there, of course, but she
had heard of the people. She had seen pictures of them once. They were a short
race, covered with very fine hair from head to foot, save for their faces.
Oddly, the men were unable to grow beards. “Can we get married there?”

“Sure.” He grinned at her. “Now that that’s settled, I could
use a shower.”

She nodded, feeling somewhat disappointed. She had been
hoping he would make love to her again.

He stood up, turned, and lifted her into his arms.

“What are you doing?”

“I told you. I need a shower.”

“But…”

“So do you.” He carried her into the bathroom, turned on the
shower, and stepped inside.

“Falkon!”

“Yes, princess?” He gazed down at her, his eyes filled with
silent laughter.

“Nothing.”

He put her on her feet and reached for the soap. Her eyes
widened as he began to wash her. It was the most erotic sensation she had ever
known, feeling his rough soapy hands move over her skin. She felt herself blush
from head to toe, but made no move to stop him. And when he was through, she
took the soap from his hands and washed him in return. And then they made love,
there in the shower, standing up with the hot water running over them.

She was washing him for the second time when she heard a
loud knock on the door. “Who could that be?”

Falkon shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“I’ll go see.” Stepping out of the shower, she put on a
fluffy white robe, wrapped her hair in a towel, and went to the door. “Who is
it?”

“Niklaus.”

Niklaus! She stared at the door. It couldn’t be!

“Ashlynne, open the door.”

“I…I just got out of the shower.” She glanced over her
shoulder. Falkon was standing in the doorway, water dripping from his hair.
“Give me a minute to get dressed,” she called, and turned away without waiting
for his answer. “What are we going to do?”

“Get dressed,” he said, reaching for his trousers. “Hurry.”

She did as he asked, and when they were both dressed, he
handed her the controller, then held out his arms. “Do it.”

She shook her head.

“Do it, Ashlynne.”

At his urging, she depressed the control to lock his wrists
together. When that was done, he sat on the floor, his knees drawn up to his
chest. “Activate the controls on my ankles,” he said, “then open the door.”

Again, she did as bidden; then, slipping the controller into
the pocket of her skirt, she opened the door. Three men stood in the hallway.
She recognized Niklaus from the photo she’d had at home.

“So,” he said, “we meet at last.”

“Yes.” Ashlynne glanced at the other two men, then looked at
Niklaus.

“Brill, Tallman, wait outside,” he said, and stepping into
the room, he closed the door. He studied her for a moment, his gaze moving over
her as if she were an animal or a piece of furniture he was thinking of buying.
“You’re even prettier than your photo,” he mused aloud.

“Thank you.”

He looked around the room, his gaze settling on Falkon. “I
was told you weren’t alone.”

“Oh? By who?”

“The guard at the port of entry. I would have been here last
night, but I was away, and only learned of your arrival this morning.”

“I was coming to see you.”

“Yes, I’m sure you were, but I couldn’t have you traveling
the streets alone.”

“I’m not alone.”

“So I see.” Niklaus went to stand in front of Falkon. “I’ve
heard about you,” he said.

Falkon bit back the sharp retort that rose in his throat and
forced himself to look properly humble and subdued, as befitting one who was
supposed to be a slave.

“Commander Casman told me about your escape.” Niklaus looked
over his shoulder at Ashlynne. “You must have been quite frightened.”

She hesitated a moment before answering. “Yes. Yes, I was.”

“I was told this man took you against your will, yet here he
is, shackled hand and foot. Would you care to explain how that came about?”

Ashlynne glanced at Falkon, her mind whirling. “He took me
prisoner and stole a cruiser. When he learned that you and I were engaged, he
decided to come here and…and hold me for ransom. He said you would pay whatever
he asked to get me back.”

“Go on.”

“After we landed, I managed to get the controller away from
him.”

“Why didn’t you call me when you arrived?”

“It was late, and I was tired. I wanted to be rested before
we met. I bought some new clothes so you wouldn’t be ashamed of me.”

Hassrick’s gaze moved over her. The blue velvet pants and
matching softsilk top were obviously new, as were the matching soft leather
boots.

“I see. And what were you going to do with him?”

Ashlynne paused. She wanted desperately to look at Falkon,
but she didn’t dare. “Keep him, of course. He is, after all, my slave, and
quite a good worker.”

“I was told you appeared quite fond of him. Casman said you
were quite adamant that he shouldn’t be hurt.”

“Number Four is my property,” she replied. “And all that I
have left of value, now that my home is gone.”

A shadow passed over Hassrick’s face. Was it regret?

“Number Four is quite a valuable asset, you know,” she went
on, “for all that he can be quite troublesome at times.”

Hassrick grunted softly. “Yes, I’m sure that’s true. Several
people have been inquiring as to his whereabouts.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Well,” Hassrick said briskly, “let us be on our way,
shall we? Where’s the controller?”

“I have it.”

Hassrick smiled as he held out his hand. “I’ll take it.”

“I’m quite able to manage, thank you.”

“I’m sure you are, my dear, but there’s no need for you to
be bothered with him any longer.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m in charge now.”

“What are you going to do with him?”

“I’ve not yet decided. For now, we shall take him with us.”
He waggled his fingers. “The controller, Ashlynne.”

She could think of no reason to refuse.

Hassrick took the controller from her hand, stared at it a
moment. “I’ve heard of these, of course, but never had the opportunity to use
one.”

Falkon went suddenly tense as Hassrick ran his thumb back
and forth over the controller.

“Let’s see,” Hassrick mused, “this activates the manacles on
his wrists, and this the shackles on his feet. And this…” His thumb hovered
over the top of the controller. “What does this do?” he asked.

Ashlynne cried, “No!” as Niklaus’s thumb depressed the top
of the controller, but it was too late.

With a strangled cry, Falkon went rigid as the pain reflex
was activated. She watched in horror as he writhed on the floor, unable to
escape the pain, his body convulsing, his face a mask of anguish. It seemed to
go on forever. She looked at Niklaus, stunned to see that he was actually
enjoying Falkon’s pain.

Niklaus looked at her and smiled. “It is always wise to
remind subordinates who is in charge.”

Ashlynne nodded. “Yes, of course.”

She looked at Falkon. His face was sheened with sweat, every
muscle in his body was trembling violently. He lay there, panting, his body
gradually relaxing, as the pain decreased and finally ended.

She watched him gather his strength, watched him rise to his
feet on legs that still trembled, his face expressionless, his eyes dark with
unspoken fury.

“Well,” Niklaus said, slipping the controller into his
pocket. “Shall we go?”