CHAPTER 42

Mia followed Draven along the footpath from the meal hall. One would think that after the stress of announcing punishment on her friends that her anxiety would have lessened a little. It did not. Not when the sun was sinking into the horizon and they were heading toward the elite house...and Draven's room.

Anything I desire.

She frowned at his back. He still wore his armor and she wondered if he had come straight from his mission, whatever that was, to the evening meal.

She shook her head, ignoring the heat that rose within her. Ignored the images of his strong body, lined with stripes, and the way she wanted to run her fingers...and her tongue along them.

She focused instead on her mission. Either get Draven to believe her or get the all-key. She hadn't broached the subject since her confession the other night, hadn't had the chance. Had he thought about what she had said? Even considered it at all?

The door to the elite house slid open and then they were inside and down the hall. Draven did not pause or hesitate, he didn't wander around the house or sit for a glass of tea, or the horrible liquor in the sitting room. He strode into his room, already reaching for the release that would remove his armor. Mia hesitated at the doorway.

“Inside, Mia,” he told her without looking in her direction.

Alarm shot through her, but she tampered it and stepped into the room. The door slid shut behind her. This was Draven. He wouldn’t hurt her, and he wasn't going to force her. A small voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she didn't know him very well. Not really.

The armor came off, melting into the vest structure. Draven placed it on the bed gently. He pulled off his boots and socks and then moved to the left wall and palmed the hidden panel. A door slid open, revealing a bathroom she hadn't guessed was there. Being Prime had some benefits, after all. Inside, another panel bleeped happily as he pressed it and the sound of running water propelled Mia forward from where she had been frozen.

An honest to god bathtub. Steaming water poured from a slot in the wall like a miniature waterfall, filling the large basin. Oh, she had vastly misjudged how much she had missed that little Earth comfort. A small sound of longing escaped her before she remembered where she was, and what she was supposed to be doing this evening. He shot an amused look in her direction, the corner of that sensual lip pulling upward.

Her eyes flew to his figure. He was pulling a bin of some sort down off a high shelf, the muscles of his back straining beneath the dark t-shirt. Then, he turned her direction and she watched, warily, as he selected several...leaves? Yes, those were long, thin dried leaves. He crumbled them, letting them fall into the steaming water, and then placed the bin back on its shelf. A scent filled the room. It was sweet, yet spicy and reminded her immediately of the scent of his skin. The way he had held her against him in the shower the night before. Her cheeks flushed.

His crystalline blue eyes met hers and he pulled the hem of his shirt upward. Mia's mouth went dry, her heart pounding an erratic rhythm against her ribs. His muscles rippled as he pulled the t-shirt over his head. Mia watched with fascination as the stripes along his skin moved with them. Surely he didn't flex so hard every time he undressed...

A wicked gleam came across his face and his long masculine fingers moved to the fastening of his pants. And then he was sliding them off and straightening, nude before her. She stared…couldn't help it. He was so perfectly proportioned, like some Greek statue, the thick length of him erect.

God she wanted...she wanted him, she wanted that body over top of hers, wanted to act on the desire slamming through her. The man was temptation walking.

But this wasn't just sex—and she could tell the sex would be incredible—if she slept with him, she would be tied to him. Forever.

With great effort, she pulled her eyes away. She kept them from him until she heard the sloshing of water as he got in the bath. Would he command that she join him? Wash him...touch him? Would she even get a choice? She closed her eyes against the tempest of the confusing emotions of anger and frustration and lust and who knew what else.

“Mia,” his voice broke through her struggles. “I'll need help with the dressing.”

She blinked in surprise, her gaze flying to the tub. Draven was sitting in the water, leaning slightly forward, his back to her. A dressing had been placed over his right shoulder, low enough that she hadn't seen it beneath his shirt. Then again, she had been rather distracted. Her stomach lurched at the red stain blooming beneath the white gauze.

“What happened?” she demanded, moving closer. “I thought the armor healed you?”

“Some wounds the armor cannot manage, and I wanted to save its charge.”

“What happened?”

Draven sighed, his big shoulders heaving. She noted, now, the weary set of his body.

“Minitu, the predators in the city, are restless.”

“So you decided to fight them?”

He grunted. “It wasn't in its regular territory. We surprised it.”

She stood at the edge of the tub, staring at the blood.

“What do I do?” she asked.

“Remove the dressing, we have to rinse the wound. The leaves have an antiseptic quality.”

Ok. She wasn't a nurse, but she could do this. She leaned over him, gently pulling at the soft white fabric. It only became stuck once and she was able to pull it off.

The wound wasn't as terrible as she had feared. A long gash – from a claw? Or a tooth?- it had cut through the layers of skin, right along one of the darker stripes. Fortunately, someone had already stitched it.

“Well, am I going to make it?”

Mia jumped a little, realizing she was still leaning over him, palm against his back where she had steadied herself.

“It doesn't look too bad,” she told him. “How do I clean it?”

He looked back over his shoulder at her. They were only inches apart, her and this large, naked Livarian. He leaned back, raising muscled arms over the side of the tub. Slowly, the wound submerged and Mia was left with a full view of his frontal nudity. She fought diligently to keep from staring.

“You did well today,” he told her.

She frowned. She refused to preen for him like some simple-minded servant.

“The learning is a good idea. I should have given more tasks like that to the women, perhaps, if they want such things. We thought we were keeping them happy by providing for them, by treating them as our own women had once desired to be treated. I am learning that I miscalculated.”

Oh. He wasn't praising her cooking and cleaning. A little burst of pleasure ran through her. She liked her idea for the center. It was one of the bigger pieces she felt had been missing from the Livarian's plan. The trouble was, she was worried that it would never be realized.

“Draven, have you talked to Jhudur?”

Draven's expression slammed shut, his lips twisted downward.

“This is not a discussion I wish to have tonight.”

“But...”

“No, Mia. I have not spoken with the Kirich. I have no plans to speak to a man who would rather torment and manipulate than speak plainly. There is nothing he might say that we could believe. And we will not be discussing this farther.”

She stiffened. “Why? Because you said we won’t?”

He tilted his head in acknowledgment.

“That seems a bit chauvinistic and obstinate.”

“I do not know what those words are supposed to translate to, but I can tell by your tone it isn't good. Can we not just have one evening without unpleasantness between us?”

Guilt pulled at her, but she forged forward. This was important.

“Not if I have to be censured. How are we supposed to communicate if we only speak about what you wish? For this to work, we need to be on equal footing.”

Draven growled and sloshed forward. Water sluiced from him, highlighting every muscle as if he wasn't already physical perfection. Mia rose as he did, so as not to be left kneeling at crotch height, and to keep the important point she felt she had gained.

Draven reached for a towel and began drying himself.

“Understand this, Mia, we cannot be on equal footing. I am Prime, and that will always mean I am responsible for every life within this compound. It means that while you can play your games and not worry about the consequences, I must temper everything I do, every action, every decision, for the very existence of my people. So no, we will never be equal, for I would never wish such a thing on anyone else, especially you. I had hoped, however, that we might complement one another,” there was a resignation to his tone now.

He shook his head, droplets flying from his dark hair, and dropped the towel and strode, naked, into the bedroom, pulling a pair of soft pants out of the hidden drawer.

A small package lay on the bed. Someone must have brought it into the room while Draven was bathing. The thought made her blush. He opened it and pulled out more gauze and a sticky tape and then turned his back to her expectantly.

She sighed. This was not going as she had hoped.

The bed shifted as she sat behind him and maneuvered the gauze over the wound, gently pressing it as she taped it to his skin. What was it like to have been a prince of your people and then lose everything? To have everyone look to you to have the answers, to save them from the horror that was the loss of their world. As much as she struggled to accept the loss of Earth, Draven struggled with the loss of his own world. What was it like to be responsible for the survival of your people?

Lonely she would guess.

I would never wish such a thing on anyone else, especially you.

God, she wanted him. Not just his body, but to be the one to bring some understanding, some comfort to a man who had done more good in his life than anyone she had ever known.

What had Brian, or any of the other handful of men she had dated ever done for anyone not themselves?

Nothing, that's what.

Draven had stilled beneath her hands, even his breathing seemed to be bated...waiting. She realized she had been stroking him, trailing her fingers, absently, along the stripes on his skin. And he was waiting, still, for her decision, even after all the frustration she had caused him, even after losing his people, his family, and having to build every little thing over.

Something clicked in her heart. She would never find another man like him, she realized. He was stubborn and proud and a little backward sometimes, but also honorable and determined and good. He led his people with a strictness, yes, but also with hope. Not to mention how incredibly sexy he was.

She could walk away right now, go back to the dorm, maybe try to find her way back to Earth. He would let her leave here tonight; she could see it in the way he held himself: expectant, but wary. Ready to be let down, rejected. But he wasn't going to keep offering himself, his pride wouldn't allow it. She knew it as well as she knew that her life would never be the same either way. Some chances never come again.

Well, Mia, what will it be?

There was something stirring within her, something even Brian hadn't touched. Dare she risk finding out what it might become? Could she risk not giving it a chance?

She sighed internally. She had always been a hopeless romantic.