 
INVASION EARTH

DELROI CONNECTION ONE

BY

LORIBELLE HUNT

Website | Facebook | Mailing List

#  Author's Note

Welcome to Delroi! If you enjoy this story, please join my mailing list to be the first to hear about the next book in the Delroi series, or my reader group Delroi Oasis for additional information.

~ Loribelle

After generations of warfare, Earth has been ravaged by war and famine, finally settling into peace only to be invaded by the alien Delroi. General Alrik Torfa needs a mate and his seers promise them for many of his people on the distant planet Earth. He doesn't expect his mate to come easily, but is more than a little surprised to find her leading Earth's army. Outmanned and outgunned, there is no way the Earth forces can win.

Sergeant Major Laney Bradford has always played her part and served her people well, but the demands of the Delroi's surrender are a bit extreme. Marriage? To one of them? Not likely. But she's fought for peace her entire life and when a conspiracy lead by her people threatens the surrender negotiations, Laney must choose. Will she submit to the alien invader or lead the fight against him?

Originally published in 2008.

# Contents

Author's Note 1

One 4

Two 8

Three 10

Four 12

Five 18

Six 20

Seven 26

Eight 30

Nine 34

Ten 37

Eleven 39

Twelve 43

Thirteen 47

Fourteen 49

Fifteen 54

Sixteen 57

Seventeen 60

Eighteen 65

Nineteen 69

Twenty 73

Twenty-one 79

Twenty-two 86

Twenty-three 90

Twenty-four 96

Twenty-five 99

Twenty-six 103

Twenty-seven 109

Twenty-eight 113

Twenty-nine 118

MORE FROM LORIBELLE HUNT 120

COPYRIGHT 127

#  One

Sergeant Major Laney Bradford stood on a ledge cut into the cliff side, watching over the battlefield through binoculars. The valley spread out before her, dust swirling around troops and sending plumes into the air. Hazy heat shimmers obstructed her field of vision. At least from this lofty position the smells of battle didn't assault her nostrils—the too old latrines and lingering blood from the night before. The cordite from discharged weapons drifting on the breezy updraft provided a harsh enough reminder of the carnage.

Things weren't going well. She snorted. That was a laughable understatement. The Alliance army, her army, had called for a temporary cease-fire and the enemy, in an odd show of largess, had granted a small reprieve. Laney clenched her jaw and resisted the urge to stomp her feet in frustration. Acting like a petulant child had never been her style and it wouldn't get her far anyway.

The Alliance had managed to hold back the invaders from the mainland for a year, sacrificing outlying territories here and there, but it was a wasted effort. The Delroi were winning. They knew it. The Alliance knew it. Hell, everyone knew it.

She studied the enemy's array on the valley floor below. The Alliance's superior numbers were insignificant in the face of the Delroi's superior technology. Laney's spies stole it when they could but there was no way to put anything into production in time to save the Alliance.

A truck lumbered to the front of the enemy's lines and she watched with apprehensive interest, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was something new and couldn't be good. She heard the agitated murmurs of the others around her and knew they'd reached the same conclusion. The vehicle's driver and team exited. They looked human—any one of them could have passed for one of her soldiers, except the Delroi tended to be a few inches taller than average and most of them didn't keep their hair cut to the short military precision demanded of the Alliance's male soldiers. They set to work quickly removing the vehicle's sides, then removed a tarp from the top to reveal its contents. Laney felt more than heard the collective gasp of the soldiers around her. Lowering the binoculars, she reached for her radio and turned to the man beside her.

While she admired the enemy's ingenuity and wished she could counteract it, dismay was uppermost in her mind. She couldn't even find it in herself to be angry. She'd fought too long and too hard to create peace for the Alliance to see it destroyed by their own damned weapon. Damned being the operative word. Fear added an unfamiliar tremble to her voice.

"General, that's one of ours. We should order a retreat and clear as much of the surrounding area as we can," she said.

He nodded. "They'll want to discuss terms for surrender, not retreat."

She shrugged, hiding her unease behind her usual cool and professional facade. The wishes of the Delroi were not her immediate concern. She keyed the mike and sent the order to move out down the chain of command.

The alien enemy had uncovered an experimental bomb. Called the Doomsayer, it gave new vision to the ancient Roman practice of salting the earth. If detonated, it would poison the land for a hundred square miles, killing everything in its path. A truly horrifying weapon that should have never been created. She'd protested its creation and had been overruled. She would do whatever was necessary to dismantle it now including agreeing to a surrender and forcing her superiors, the generals behind her, to accept it.

Laney trained the field glasses on the enemy command center on the opposite cliff. While she watched, commotion erupted in their ranks after someone pointed out the Alliance's preparation for retreat. A newly arrived general lifted his field glasses, studied the valley floor, and then turned them on her.

Laney bit back a gasp. She had seen this one before, and he was quite the specimen. He made her heart pound wildly, had since the first time she'd spotted him. Tall, at least six-foot-four with a broad chest that she was certain was chiseled under his tight tunic, he had long golden hair and a hard jaw. A shiver worked down her spine and she shifted under the weight of his gaze from across the distance.

Snap out of it, Laney. He's the enemy. He was also gorgeous. What could lusting from afar hurt? Her radio crackled to life, interrupting her thoughts. Handing it to the general standing beside her, she continued watching the Delroi general. She'd never met his gaze before, if this could count, and was loath to break it. She wished she could tell what color his eyes were, if they were as intense close up as his regard was at this distance. Like a childish game of chicken, she refused to look away first and somehow knew he felt the same way. Did kids play chicken on his world? She shook her head and focused on the match at hand.

"Sergeant Major," a low voice called behind her. She slowly lowered the binoculars, unwilling to break contact first, and turned.

"Yes?" She sized up the circle of generals, noting her old friend, General Bob Darren, at the center.

"They sent a message and a radio frequency. He said he'll only speak with you. You're on," Bob said, his face solemn.

She reached for the radio he held out and turned back to face the enemy command center, glasses zeroing in on the blond. He was still watching. As she stared, he lifted a corresponding radio to his lips. They were full, firm. Totally kissable. She scowled. Where the hell had that thought come from? She hadn't combined male and kiss in her thoughts in longer than she could remember, not even the last time she'd seen him. She lifted the radio, which now had the proper frequency, forcing herself to focus on the situation at hand, and a gravelly voice came over it. His voice.

"Are you ready to discuss terms?"

Laney took a deep breath, fighting her body's reaction to his voice, reminding herself sharply that she had an audience who would wonder at her uneven breathing, at the flush she felt on her cheeks and neck. "Yes. But first, I want to disperse these armies and secure that weapon."

"It will take several days to clear this area."

His tone was low and commanding. There was something indefinable in it, something that made her heart thump and her knees a little weak. His gaze intensified, focused solely on her, and she swore she felt his big hands stroking her, urging her to take him deep inside her. With a mental nudge, she shook it off just as Bob gave her a concerned look.

"Yes," she answered. Did she hear a tremble in her voice? God, she hoped not. "Days which will give us time to find a neutral location for talks and our leaders to join us." She thought he would refuse, but after several minutes, he nodded.

"We will secure the weapon and make arrangements for talks to be held on one of our ships in three days time."

The generals around her murmured their reluctant assent. It may have been because they were less willing to argue with her if they refused, than face the Prime Minister's disapproval over surrender. She didn't care. She would not risk the lives of a hundred thousand soldiers for someone's hubris. "Fine."

She lowered the binoculars, handed the radio to one of the junior aides to make the arrangements, and escaped the area. The enemy general's rough voice still seemed to skim over her skin, electrifying nerve endings that had held no life for years. She felt an unaccustomed wetness between her legs and hurried to her quarters. God, what was wrong with her? Of all the damned luck, her libido came back to life for one of them, for him—the enemy.

Once inside the small space, she headed through the cramped living area and into the tiny shower enclosure. A small, vain privilege of rank perhaps, but she had never felt gladder of it. Hurriedly, she stripped her uniform and boots off, reaching in to turn on the spray. She let the hot water wash the grime from her body while her hands traveled its length. She was desperate for an orgasm, a longing she hadn't felt in so long she couldn't remember the last time.

She shook as she fought the compulsion to touch herself more intimately, tried to force his image, his voice from her mind. Desperately, she tried to recall the face of her last lover, of any lover, any man who turned her on like this, but all she saw was the blond Delroi. Her hands clenched as she struggled against the fire racing through her veins, the confusion fogging her brain. Why did she feel so drawn, so pulled to him? She'd seen him before and never had this extreme reaction. But she'd never seen his eyes before, never been the object of a stare so intense, a stare she swore felt like strong fingers stroking her, teasing her. And that voice when he asked her about discussing terms, that voice had seemed to promise ecstasy in surrender. Her sex spasmed with need, with want at the thought and she gave up fighting against herself.

Eyes closed, she reached for her nipples, imagining the enemy general's big hands pinching the distended flesh, providing just enough pain to make it pleasurable. She squeezed and flicked at the hard tips, her breath coming in gasps. One hand snuck between her legs. Her pussy creamed and she imagined him licking at it, eating her until she came, and then plunging his cock into her. She wanted him fast and hard and stroked her clit as the fantasy gained momentum. She came with a cry; thankful the pounding water muffled the sound, and sagged against the wall, spent.

Several minutes later, Laney reached for the soap and washed with brisk strokes. Her body burned with lingering pleasure and embarrassment. Fantasizing about the enemy had never been a problem for her before, and she had faced plenty of enemies in her thirty-five years. It was mortifying, this attraction, and oh so wrong. She sighed. With any luck at least, she would never have to face him again.

#  Two

General Alrik Torfa couldn't believe his good luck. When the aide brought news that Sergeant Major Laney Bradford was in the Alliance war party, he had rushed up to the observation ledge. These battles were pointless. The Earth soldiers could not prevail. They had managed to drag things out this long because his people had an interest in not destroying this world.

The Sergeant Major was the reason for the humans' success. Their most talented strategist, she obviously had the soldiers' admiration. They never quit and never surrendered. The general in him admired such leadership, but the Delroi part of his psyche was horrified that Earth's leaders risked their women in war. Women who represented the future of his people.

In a last ditch effort to peaceably bring things to an end, he had seized one of their most powerful weapons, a world destroyer, and drawn the battle to this almost empty desert. If it had to be used, his scientists assured him, they could clean up the mess. Surely the Earth contingent, who didn't fully understand its enemy's capabilities, would surrender rather than test his determination.

But everything changed when he stepped on the observation platform and got his first glimpse of Laney Bradford. She would surrender. First her armies, and then her body. His blood stirred at the thought, imagining her writhing in ecstasy beneath him.

When she first spotted him from across the valley, Alrik felt her gaze like a punch in the gut. His people said he would know his der'lan, literally translated as mate of the heart, by the avalanche of awareness and lust that hit at first glance. It was a source of great amusement to his men that their word for mate bore such a close resemblance to the human word darlin', a common term of endearment. Their amusement would turn quickly to satisfaction though when they realized how accurate the old tales were. He wasn't really thinking about those things when he saw her, though. Instead he felt her response to him and hardened his resolve. He would have her complete surrender.

The communications officer got her on the radio and her voice had dribbled like honey across Alrik's skin, smooth and warm. Panic edged her voice, unusual for someone so cool under fire, and she'd fled from the ledge in haste.

Deciding his brother needed apprising about this newest development ASAP, he passed the chore of planning the surrender talks to a junior general. Halfway down the winding steps, he felt her again and ducked into an armory blasted into the mountain side. The vision in her mind was so vivid, he was grateful for the privacy.

He stood with his back against the wall, breathing hard, while his mind joined her's as she pleasured herself. Cock hard and throbbing, he knew it would be hours yet before he could seek his own release. He vowed to find a creative way to make her pay for his discomfort. He smiled at the thought, imaging her on her knees, mouth wrapped around his erection. Or maybe he would spank her. She so clearly deserved it for putting him through this unfulfilled torture. But first, he would bury himself in her so deeply she wouldn't be able to say where she began and he ended; and then he would say the prayer needed to bind them together forever.

#  Three

He couldn't believe this assignment. Barak Trace, Spy Master of the Delroi, reduced to babysitting. Un-fucking-believable, as the soldiers said on this planet. At least it was almost over. Two of Alrik's household guard would be taking over shortly.

An Earth general, bag slung over one shoulder, hurried down the dirt pathway and stopped to knock on the doorway across the temporary road. With a grunt, Barak edged back into the shadows of the buildings he stood between to watch.

When it opened, the enemy Sergeant Major stood on the threshold, her arms crossed over her chest and legs braced slightly apart. Barak had excellent vision, so even without field glasses he saw her face change. It went from expressionless to panic in a matter of seconds. She was getting the news of her status change.

Months ago he'd argued bitterly with Alrik and Daggar over the woman's fate. What she'd done at Roses had to be responded to, all the innocent lives she'd taken had to be paid for. He'd infiltrated the Earth army months before the Delroi armada arrived, could have easily carried out the assassination, but had been denied. Repeatedly.

Daggar had agreed with him, though. He remembered the murderous look in his lord's eyes, the fury etched on his face. It was Alrik who had refused. Alrik who had insisted the murder of a woman, any woman, was beneath them. He had swayed Daggar to his side, but Barak wasn't sure how. He'd been dismissed for the remainder of the argument between the two brothers. He'd been angry for months over that decision, but now only felt immense relief after learning of her importance to Alrik. Some instinct must have been at work when Alrik had refused to allow the assassination. The most primitive instinct of their species wouldn't allow a man to kill his der'lan even if he hadn't met the woman yet. Somehow, Alrik's soul had known who she was. Barak wasn't overly concerned with how it worked, he just was glad now that it had.

The enemy general left and the woman slammed the door shut behind him. Barak squeezed his eyes shut and offered a quick prayer to the Gods. Thanking them that he hadn't disobeyed orders and killed her anyway. He'd been damned tempted more than once, hadn't seen the point in letting her live.

He glanced at his timepiece and watched her quarters. The woman needed to get a move on. He knew he needed to stop thinking of her that way. She was Alrik's der'lan after all, the new Lady Torfa. Unless Daggar took a mate, she would bear the next heir.

She finally left the building and he followed at a distance, frowning. Being the Commander's mate would definitely provide her with some protection, but Barak wasn't sure if that was enough. Many of the warriors disliked her in the extreme, if not flat out hated her. And there was another consideration he hadn't let himself dwell on before. Could she be trusted? Would she meekly enter into this peace treaty and her role in it between their worlds?

He reached the prearranged meeting area and nodded to Alrik's guard, who would now take over Barak's babysitting duties. The Sergeant Major continued towards the landing area while Barak watched her straight back walking off into the distance.

Shaking his head, he forced himself to move and turned to leave. There was work to be done. She was now someone else's problem.

#  Four

"What?" Laney yelled, more exclamation than question. She was already running on pure caffeine. Organizing the Army's withdrawal was taking more time than she'd first thought it would. Now she had to deal with this? Standing outside her door, General Black shrugged and shouldered his bag.

"Your name was on the revised hostage list they just sent over. You need to get a move on, the transport is due any moment now."

He was someone Laney only knew in passing, since they'd never been in the same command, but she saw something flare in his eyes. Something that looked suspiciously like knowledge. She narrowed her eyes. He knew more than he was saying. He turned on his heel and left before she could question him further and she forced her mind to move on, shutting the door behind him.

The analytical part of her took control while she made a quick and thorough search through her locker drawers, sending items flying through the air to land on the bed.

The Delroi had insisted on an exchange of hostages for the duration of the talks. In an effort to keep everyone honest, no doubt. She'd even approved of the move before she'd been added to the select group. They'd been allowed to pick their own hostages and she wondered briefly who she was replacing. She pressed her lips together and dug out her duffle bag. None of that mattered now.

Hostages might be too harsh a word, but it worked. Three Delroi military leaders would stay planet-side and three Earth soldiers would stay on board. The rest of her people would be ferried back and forth each day to the Delroi ship, where the talks would take place. She had planned on being one of them.

She unzipped the bag and quickly stuffed it with necessities, making a mental list of things she needed to pass on to her lieutenants. But the other part of her mind stood back and huffed in irritated exasperation.

This evening's conference had been intended as a meet-and-greet in addition to settling in the guests, as the Delroi insisted on calling them. An image of the blond enemy general rose in her mind. She'd already met the three Delroi being exchanged with Earth and he wasn't one of them. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing his image out of her mind. Distance hadn't made him less appealing, nor had it made her want him less. The last thing she needed was to spend her nights onboard their ship. How was she going to resist the urge to find him and rip his clothes off? Panic began to set in and she shrieked silently.

Really, was that necessary?

Yes! Why the hell do they want me there?

Great. Now she wasn't just talking to herself, she was arguing with herself as well. Rolling her eyes, Laney locked the door on her way out and grasped for a sense of calm. She could handle this the same way she handled everything else. Calmly. Efficiently. Emotionlessly. Even if she had to stomp on certain feelings and cram them into a box deep in the recesses of her mind. She'd done it before. She'd just have to do it again.

Her aide met her outside and she quickly filled him in during the jog to the airstrip. It was an easy one-mile run and she arrived to see the waiting generals and dignitaries queuing up where one ship had landed and another was coming in. She hung back, watching the second ship land next to the first. The door of the first ship slid open and a ramp lowered. A hatch on the underside of the transport opened and a ground crew began tossing in the bags of the other hostages. She kept her duffle slung over her arm.

"Sergeant Major?"

Laney looked over her shoulder to see three of the enemy warriors behind her. She arched an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

"Come with us, please. The General would like a private word with you."

She turned back to see the boarding completed and the transport lifting into the air. Record time. It was impressive. She couldn't get something done that fast if she stood over people cracking a whip and threatening a court martial.

The second transport loomed silently nearby, suspiciously inactive while she considered her options. The shortest of her "escort" was pushing six-foot-two. She cursed her lack of a weapon and noted theirs. No chance in a fight and probably no opportunity to run.

There could only be one reason to single her out. They called her the Butcher of Roses. Roses for the name of the town the Delroi had originally been headquarted in. Butcher because there were so many civilians there. How was she to know they brought non-combatants to war with them? She would have snorted if she hadn't felt her audience's hard gazes on her back. So she won one battle. Well, a few actually. It was war after all. The point was to win. When the Alliance agreed to this surrender, the Delroi had promised that there would be no retribution. The ship's ramp lowered and she sighed, resigned.

"Let's go, Sergeant Major," the speaker said. He was tall, broad-shouldered and -chested, with short-shorn black hair. His eyes were not unkind, but his hard tone made it clear they weren't taking no for an answer. She was a little surprised no one grabbed her by the arm to lead her into the shuttle.

She followed him and the other two hulking warriors brought up the rear. With luck and cunning, she could find a way out of whatever ambush they had planned. She hadn't reached her current position by being stupid. She experienced a rush of excitement. It had been a long time since she'd had a good challenge.

She walked up the ship's ramp and looked around curiously. The Alliance had captured some of these ships before but she was always too busy to check one out. It was like the inside of a small, stripped-down jet. Instead of plush rows of seats, bench seats lined the interior walls. A curtain partition blocked off the cockpit.

"Welcome aboard, Sergeant Major."

How had she ever thought that voice gravely? It was rich and smooth, like her favorite French Vanilla cappuccino. It flowed over her and worked its way into all her secret places. Bitter realization made her heart skitter to a stop. Impossible! It was bad enough to be in the enemy's hands, but she would not let the mere sound of his voice arouse her.

Slowly she turned, taking careful note of the position of the cabin's occupants. He held her gaze with steely grey eyes. Her skin flushed as she got her first close up look at him, heat rushing down her chest where her nipples had begun to throb painfully. She struggled to control her reaction, control her breathing. She did it by forcing herself to break the gaze, to look around and take stock, to look for an escape route.

Behind her stood a pilot in the cockpit and before her the golden-haired warrior. He leaned casually against the back wall, and she watched with dismay as the ramp rose and the doors slid closed. She was cornered. Trapped. Reaching for a center of calm she wasn't sure she felt, she nodded in greeting. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage."

"Yes." He grinned. "I do."

She narrowed her eyes, irritation and curiosity warring with lust. Somehow, she realized with shock, it all just combined to ramp up her lust even more. Her hard-earned control was slipping away. Oddly, she wasn't afraid of him. He looked too much like a golden-haired god to fear. She had the absurd urge to rub her body up against him like a cat in heat. Dear god, she had to get a grip! Silence stretched as she tried to manage her response, to slow the pulse pounding in her neck and to will away the dampness between her legs. Damn the smug bastard. He knew the affect his nearness had on her, and he smirked at her not four feet away.

"I know who you are, Sergeant Major Laney Bradford." He dragged out her rank and name, as if savoring the taste of it on his lips. "The Butcher of Roses. I was beginning to think I would never get my hands on you."

She stiffened. "We were assured if we entered into talks there would be no retribution against individual officers."

"But you aren't an officer are you?"

She glared and wondered how much he knew of their rank structures. There were basically two tiers—officer and enlisted. Officers bought their commissions, entering as lieutenants whereas an enlisted soldier just signed on the dotted line. Since they didn't buy in, they found themselves starting out on the very bottom rung of the hierarchy. As her division's Sergeant Major she was currently the highest ranking enlisted soldier in the Alliance army, a well respected and coveted position. She now had more power than most officers, all except for the most senior generals. Pride fueled her aggravated response. "The spirit of that agreement clearly included anyone involved with planning and executing orders in the war. Not just officers."

He nodded, straightening from his casual pose. "It did, of course. But I could hardly pass up the opportunity to meet the only strategist who has fought against us and won."

He looked past her shoulder. "The seers were correct," he said.

What the hell? Who were the seers? And what were they right about?

"Yes, and the Gods have a sense of humor," an amused voice drawled behind her. "I don't envy you, brother."

She turned and bit the inside of her lip to hide her response. Brother, huh? These two had won the genetics lottery—the brother was actually an improvement over the Adonis's golden looks. He stood arrogantly tall and straight, dark and handsome. Commanding. Regal. Confused, she looked him up and down. He looked good, great in fact, she appreciated the package, but he left her cold. He didn't wake up every nerve ending in her body the way his brother did.

"We're ready to take off," the blond continued. "So if you would take a seat."

He looked pointedly at the bench seat on the wall to her right. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. The sooner she got to the ship topside, the sooner she could get back to her own people and away from the man who, without even trying, turned her inside out. She dropped the bag by her feet and reached for the lap belt.

"Let me," he said, pushing her hands away. "We wouldn't want you unsecured, would we?"

He finished with that sexy grin. Its effect on her should be illegal. Or maybe it was the stressed unsecured that made her belly flip flop. Either way it was bad for her and she knew it. The way a pound of dark chocolate was. Tasty and rich, but it would go straight to her hips. She felt a blush heat her face. Okay. Maybe not the best allusion.

Her just-calmed nerves came screaming back to life. His hands were big, easily twice the size of hers, and she wondered if the rest of him was as big. Just in time, she clenched her fists to keep from grabbing him, but he noticed; grinning, he took the seat beside her.

She looked up and met his gaze. "Who are you?" she asked through clenched teeth.

He smiled into her eyes, and to her shame, she momentarily forgot he was the enemy. Who cared who he was? She wanted him and she meant to have him. Soon. Very soon, if her dampening pussy had any say in the matter.

"I'm General Alrik Torfa. That's my brother, Daggar."

She raised an eyebrow. "Another general?"

"Not exactly." He laughed. "He's the Overchief of the warrior caste."

"Excuse me?" she asked with skepticism, her ardor cooling with the shocking statement. "You have a caste system?"

There hadn't been an organized caste system on Earth in centuries. It was barbaric and autocratic. The man was sexy as hell but she was beginning to have major doubts about his culture.

"Three castes," he answered, ticking them off on his fingers. "Artist, Healer, and Warrior. The Overchiefs of each form our ruling council."

Her regal description wasn't so far off. She listened with interest as he went on to describe his culture. It sounded archaic to her. She had to grit her teeth against a scathing reply when she learned that women were not allowed to fight on Delroi, but somehow managed to sit calmly to hear more. They lived in family groups, not so different from the people of Earth, except there was no divorce on Delroi. She kept her skepticism on that to herself. Alrik and Daggar were royalty. As the elder son, Daggar had inherited the title of Overchief from his father. She went cold when Alrik told her that their sons left home to live in common barracks to begin warrior training at twelve. She had friends who would never stand for it, letting their sons leave home at such a young age, but apparently the women of Delroi had no say in the matter. It was a true warrior society, with men placed firmly at the top.

It wasn't a lot of information, but it was more than she'd known before. Her spies had found out very little on what these people were like on their home world. It was enough to find a way to fight them here, and even if the war proved to be over you could never have too much information. But she was uneasy with what she was learning and was unable to see a way to use it to the Alliance's advantage.

#  Five

Alrik caught Dagger's approving nod over her head. They were both reluctantly impressed with the woman. A steady and measured soldier, she would make a fine addition to any warrior's bed. It was her composure and reputation that gave them pause. Though surrounded by enemies, she was still gathering intelligence, a trait that made her even more appealing to a son of the ruling family. Her notoriety was less than desirable. He wasn't sure how he felt about his woman being known as the Butcher of his people or how he'd deal with his own anger over Roses. Not that it mattered. She was his mate and he would claim her. The fact that she was extraordinary in many ways was a bonus. Her infamy might be turned to their advantage.

On their own planet, for reasons the scientists couldn't explain, women were being born in much lower numbers, and they dwindled every year. In the last year, a mere twenty percent of the infants born on his home world were female. The seers had offered some hope though, directing them to this small blue planet to find their mates. Decades of war, famine, and plagues had decimated the male population. It was a perfect solution for both their worlds, but the people had proven surprisingly willing to fight. Aided in no small part by the brilliant strategist sitting beside him, he acknowledged with pride.

She would have to give up the art of war, of course. The women on his world didn't participate in such activities and as his mate she certainly wouldn't need to work. He grinned. He suspected there would be many interesting fights over that. The women of Earth, he'd found, were an independent lot. He and his brother hoped she would help forge the way in a sort of ambassadorial position, but for now he would keep that to himself.

He felt the small craft's engines slow to dock with his brother's ship. They had set aside rooms for the Earth guests—the hostages who would stay onboard while the talks went on—but she wouldn't be in hers long. His plans should be well underway by now. He'd give her a few hours, let her relax into a false sense of security, before he moved her to where she really belonged. In his rooms, in his bed, and at his side.

But his plans could wait a short while. He could be patient. Several minutes later, instead of escorting her to his rooms, he led her to one of the guest cabins. He pointed out the common room down the corridor where the evening reception would be held and watched her disappear. He hated to leave her, but rejoiced in knowing that tomorrow night he would have her right where he wanted her.

#

#  Six

Laney dropped her bag on the bed and went in search of the common room. As she expected, the room was packed and the din was loud with the many voices vying to be heard. It was a large space. She noticed a curved bar and tall restaurant-like coolers along the inside wall. Opposite it was a huge window, but she only spared a glance for the layout of the room or space beyond the glass.

The occupants were a mix of Delroi and Earth soldiers and the two groups were carefully circling each other. She looked around, half dreading and half wanting to see Alrik, but he wasn't there. Several of his men were, though, and she felt the heavy gaze of their regard as they spoke to their fellows soldiers. It was disconcerting to be the recipient of such close scrutiny. An unaccustomed and unwelcomed feeling for her.

She forced her gaze to flit by them and straightened her spine, pushing her way through the crowded space looking for her old friend and boss, General Darren. She finally located him at the bar.

"Hand me one of those, Bob." She pointed to the beer on ice in a big barrel at his side.

"Laney! What happened to you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she scowled. "I caught the second transport. Why? No one told you?"

His expression hooded and he nodded at someone behind her. She turned to see the Prime Minister and his Chief of Staff, General Scott, approach.

"Prime Minister. Sir," she greeted them.

The other two hostages, or guests, whatever you wanted to call them, hovered close by and she frowned. She didn't really know General Black, but she knew Colonel Eldridge all too well. They'd butted heads more than once, most recently over whether it was worth it or not to refuse peace talks and let the Delroi do their worst with the Doomsayer. It wouldn't matter after tonight, since the enemy was scheduled to hand it over to the Earth forces at midnight. Laney's objections had more to do with honor than anything else; they'd agreed to these peace talks, and she'd be damned before she didn't give them a shot. But Eldridge met her bold stare with one of amusement and gut instinct told her there was more than the normal number of secrets circulating through the gathering tonight.

"Well, what do you think, Sergeant Major?" the Prime Minister asked.

Eldridge smiled at her. The smile she only saw when he managed to one up her. A hush fell over the crowd. It was obvious she had missed something important. She raised both eyebrows.

"About what, sir?"

He blinked in surprise. "No one told you?" Bob shook his head beside her.

"Told me what?"

"They have a very simple offer for us," he said with a grimace. "Peace and trade in exchange for a marriage between our worlds."

"Marriage?" she asked, not quite believing her ears. "Like a real marriage? Between one of them and one of us?"

He nodded.

"That's insane. We haven't done that kind of thing in centuries and there aren't any ruling families anymore. How would we pick the victim? I mean bride," she added letting an uncharacteristic edge of sarcasm color her tone.

"Oh, they already have someone in mind, Sergeant Major," the Prime Minister answered.

The silence grew and she looked around suspiciously. "Who?"

"You, of course," he said. "They expect you to marry one of their generals."

"Which one?" she whispered. She was certain she already knew and struggled for control.

"His name is Torfa. He's apparently the brother of some kind of king," he answered quietly.

"And what did you say?" she asked, but suspected she already knew the answer to that too.

The Prime Minister looked at her sadly, but she'd known him a long time and wasn't buying it. She'd disapproved when the Assembly had picked him, but what could she do? Seize power for herself? Even if she'd had the support to do it, what did she know about running a government, especially in peacetime?

"I'm sorry Sergeant Major. We just don't have a choice."

"Of course," she answered, anger beginning to swirl through her stomach. Hell, she even understood it. One woman was worth sacrificing for an entire planet, right? "If you'll excuse me, I'll be in my quarters."

She sat the untouched beer on a nearby table and quickly strode from the room, fully aware of her weakening control. Power was key to surviving in the high stakes, high ranks world she moved in. It did not pay to lose control. Her cool and calm were well known and had led to her achieving the highest rank available to an enlisted soldier in their Armies. Hell, she had more influence and power than most of their generals. But now she was gripped with the urge to toss that all aside and throw something, anything, and it appalled her.

She entered the room, observing the smooth open and close slide of the door with regret. No satisfying slamming there. Pacing was unsatisfactory too, in the small space. Three feet up and three feet back. She growled in disgust and turned to the door.

Her mounting rage had more than one focus. It was bad enough her own people were willing to sell her off like chattel, but that barbarian had sat and talked with her. Sat and calmly, condescendingly, explained the role of women in his culture without a word about this—and surely he knew! It infuriated her. And it hurt, her heart constricting as if held in the grip of a vise. She'd thought she'd seen respect in his eyes, but she'd obviously been wrong. Why did that matter so much? Her body's own betrayal was worse, even now keying up for him. Enough! She would find him and give him a piece of her mind. The jerk had it coming and it was the only way to work off this energy. She was never having sex with him. No way.

She didn't have a clue where she was on the ship, and retraced her steps back to the shuttle bay. Workers teemed and several warriors lounged against a wall. She approached them.

They eyed her warily.

"Where's General Torfa?" she asked.

They looked at her as if she had two heads and her gaze narrowed. She knew how to deal with men. Bulldoze over them and refuse to take no for an answer. Directing her gaze to the tall one she'd followed onto the shuttle earlier she spoke.

"Take. Me. To. General. Torfa." She enunciated each word, growing more furious with each delay.

Finally, he responded.

"Of course, Sergeant Major. This way."

The others deferred to him and showed no surprise when he spoke her rank. Did everyone know who she was? Why she was here? The thought only served to fuel her fury.

The warrior walked a maze through the ship. She would never find her own way back. She was positive he did it on purpose. After she was completely lost, he stopped in front of a door and rapped his knuckles on it three times.

"Enter."

He stepped just inside, blocking her behind him and came to attention. "The Sergeant Major would like to see General Torfa, my lord," he said.

"Send her in," she heard that velvety voice again, and her body, traitor that it was, responded. Her pussy dampened and clenched in anticipation. She beat back her libido, called up her anger, and stepped around the warrior.

"You're dismissed, Captain," Torfa said.

"You son of a bitch," she said, ignoring the others in the room.

He arched an eyebrow. "My mother would probably disagree."

"Really? But it's okay to just sell women off on your world, isn't it? Forgive me if I don't rush to trust her judgment. How could you sit there, knowing about this, and not say anything? How could you sit there, treat me like an equal, like a soldier deserving of respect, and do something like this?" She looked at him and mustered as much scorn as she could. She wanted him to feel her pain, her disappointment that he thought so little of her, of her needs. It didn't make sense. She wasn't a touchy feely, share your emotions kind of woman. Anger was so much easier to deal with. "What makes you think I'd be willing to spend any of my life with a barbarian like you?"

That last bit got to him, she noticed with a surge of satisfaction. His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared.

"Leave us," he curtly ordered and the room emptied. She felt like she'd grabbed a tiger by the tail, but she didn't care. She wanted him to feel her wrath, wanted to see his eyes snap with anger too. She was a free woman, a soldier, from Earth. She would not be bought and sold by two warring governments. Even, if she saw the sense in it. The necessity for her people, at least. That didn't mean she couldn't, and wouldn't, rail against her fate.

After the room cleared, he stood and she ignored the throb in her pussy as she watched him move, muscles rippling. This man was her enemy. He smoothly stalked towards her. She knew she should be running, but she stood her ground, certain he would never hurt her. Lock her up and not let her have a life, sure, but not actual physical injury. He would just kill her spirit, slowly and a little at a time.

Alrik reached her and pulled her close, and she fought the urge to melt against his broad chest. Why couldn't they just have sex and leave it at that? Why did he have to try to take over her life?

"We're connected, you and I. When you left the ledge three days ago, you went back to your quarters and masturbated," he said quietly.

She gasped and tried to pull back. There was no way he could know that. But his eyes made it clear that he did, that he felt the connection too, felt whatever it was that linked them so carnally together.

His head dipped to her neck and he nibbled at her pounding pulse before continuing, murmuring in her ear. "You imagined it was my hands on you, my cock in you. I've been walking around with a hard-on for three days while you found relief. I haven't quite decided on your punishment for that."

She felt her eyes drift closed. There'd been no real relief, just a temporary appeasement of her libido.

Somehow during that monologue, he had opened her uniform jacket, and his hand found her breast through the thin shirt underneath, kneading it just the way she had imagined before pinching the hard tip. His mouth returned to her nape, finding the sensitive hollow of skin between her throat and collar.

"Oh," she gasped, head falling back under the assault of his teeth and lips.

He ripped her shirt, bottom to collar, and dragged it to her elbows, knotting the ends together so that her arms were pinned behind her back. Catching her nipple in his mouth, he wrung a long groan from her, and her pussy clamored for attention. Okay, so maybe just this once she'd have sex with him.

With one arm locked around her waist, and his lips on her breast, she didn't notice how close that was until she felt cool air on her ass. He left her pants and underwear around her knees, and when she tried to step back to remove them he growled low in his throat. She felt a thrill at the unvoiced command and the restriction of movement. The total loss of control.

Already hot, she swayed against him when he cupped her pussy with his palm. His hand was hot, searing. Slowly, oh so slowly, he pushed one finger inside her and ground the heel of his palm against her. She trembled at the contact, would have been a puddle at his feet if he weren't holding her up. She felt a sudden yearning for a bed. Now.

His head dipped lower, in slow torturous increments. Dropping to his knees, he gripped her hips with both hands. She whimpered. The hell with a bed, the floor would do just fine. His tongue swirled, tasting everywhere. Her hipbones, her belly button. He slid his hands down as his tongue traveled south. His fingers were bruising on her thighs, but the sting of pain barely registered. She held her breath as his tongue traced the sensitive skin around the top of her legs, as he explored her pussy while ignoring her clit.

She remembered his promise to punish her. By withholding her orgasm? She considered growling herself, but then his tongue darted over it and she flinched in response, straining against his hold, demanding more. He lightly flicked his tongue over her, occasionally nipping her with his teeth. No alphabet method for this guy. He should give lessons. It was ten times better than anything she had experienced before. How was it possible the men she'd known over the years were doing it so wrong?

Awash in sensation, she was amazed to feel her orgasm move through her so quickly. Every nerve tingled, and when she opened her eyes, she saw spots and sagged against him.

She watched bemused as Alrik reached down, pulled the zippers on her boots, and had her out of the rest of her clothes in record time. Then he stood and freed himself from his own pants, dropped them to his ankles, and sat down.

She eyed him while she tried to maneuver out of the restraining shirt. He was big, long and thick, and his cock was as golden hued as the rest of him. She needed that in her now. Amused, she thought, you couldn't pry me from the room with a rocket launcher now. So much for noble intentions.

Leaning forward, he grabbed her upper arms and pulled her close, not allowing her any freedom of movement.

"Just like you are," he said, his voice almost guttural, the demand in it unmistakable. She'd never liked being ordered around, especially in bed, but it wasn't protest that rose. It was lust, pure and simple. He was a man she'd never be able to push around. She couldn't fight the urge to turn over control to him, didn't even try.

Eagerly, she straddled his hips and looked him in the eye as she slowly lowered herself. He gripped her ribcage, guiding her and forcing her down at the same time he thrust up. She gasped and closed her eyes. Impaled. In a good, full way. Pleasure and discomfort mixed before she adjusted to his size. She felt him watching her, and stilled until she did.

Once she softened around him, he lifted her until only the head of his cock was still inside her. He held her there until she opened her eyes and met his gaze, saw the stark need stamped across his features. Then he plunged deep, setting a slow steady rhythm. She leaned forward, a little wobbly while incapable of bracing her hands on his shoulders or chest, but unable to resist the allure of his skin, the compulsion to taste his lips. She flattened her tongue against his neck, following a leisurely trail up his salty skin, smiling at his grunt when her teeth closed over his ear lobe and nipped.

He didn't give her the chance to kiss him. After pulling her flat against his chest, she heard him murmuring something in his own language. Struggling to breathe, dragging his masculine scent deep into her lungs, she didn't have time to consider the words, or the radar-like pinging she felt straight to her marrow. Another orgasm rolled through her and she felt the hot spurt of his semen inside her. Replete and exhausted, she collapsed against him, barely registering when he freed her arms or stood and carried her into a bedroom.

#  Seven

It was done. Alrik hadn't planned on doing it so soon. The binding prayer had burst forth from him when he'd felt her channel tighten around his cock. Even if he could, he wouldn't take the words back. She didn't know it, but she was his now and he would never give her up. She might despise him in the short run, but in the long run, it was the right thing to do for everyone.

Tomorrow they would begin negotiating trade agreements that would put more of the Delroi's unattached males on Earth. Hopefully, it would be enough to save his people. Until then, he had a warm soft woman in his arms and duty could wait.

Her hair was still up and braided, the length twisted and pinned against her head. He pulled the small pins out and dropped them on the bedside table until finally the length was free. Surprised, he noted it reached the bottom of her back. Removing the band holding the end, he slowly worked the plait loose.

Wavy from the braid, her hair was like heavy silk in his hand. He held it up to the light to examine its color, a deep brown shot through with big streaks of red. He brought it to his face and breathed in its sweet scent, which smelled faintly of the flower called gardenia on this world, a plant the Delroi women with them had quickly discovered and adopted. He loved it.

Alrik dropped the strands and they fell around her like a curtain. Grinning, he wondered if it would drape them both when she rode him. He would test that at the earliest opportunity. For now, he was content to explore her without her yammering at him.

He had admired the tactical cunning of this woman for months. Her body was just as impressive. The bulky uniform concealed her feminine curves. A small waist accented flared hips and high breasts. Her skin was smooth and blemish free except for the small rose tattooed on one breast. Laugh lines around her eyes added to the appeal of an already pretty face.

He rested his palm over her flat stomach, wondering how she would look swollen with his child. Nostrils flared in desire when he realized she could even now carry his babe. Would she give him girls? A houseful of females with their mother's warrior spirit?

She moaned in her sleep and leaned into him, her ass rubbing against his still hard cock. Spooned up behind her, he pulled her leg over his. Testing her pussy with his fingers, he found her soft and wet with his cum. With one hand pressed on her belly, he used the other to guide himself into her. With a long sigh, she cracked an eye open and turned her head to look up at him.

"Not a dream," she murmured, moving against him.

"Shh," he answered, hand sliding down to where their bodies joined and circling her clit to match his gentle glide in and out of her core.

The languid action quickly gave way to more pressing urges and when he felt her clenching around him he quickened his thrusts. Her head fell back against his chest and he gave into the temptation of her bared neck, sucking the soft skin hard. She would bear his mark, he thought with satisfaction as his thrusts reached a crescendo. Her body stiffened and trembled. He held her tightly, unwilling to release her even after they'd both come.

By the time he eased out of her, she was once again sleeping. He was content to hold her, drifting between sleep and wakefulness. Some time later, a soft knock came at the outer door. After untangling himself from her limbs and pulling on his pants, he let his brother in. Daggar glanced over at the sleeping chamber.

"It's done then?"

"It is."

***

She woke a short time later and dreamily studied the ceiling, wondering how she had gotten into this situation. Alrik's soft murmur drifted to her from the outer room, joined by another. The brother. Daggar.

Rolling she buried her face in the pillow and dragged the sheet over her head. His scent enveloped her, and she wondered how long till he came back to bed. Not helping, Laney.

She tried to remind herself why she shouldn't be here. He was her enemy, had come to her planet bringing war. So what if his tactics impressed her? Not just his tactics, she conceded, but the way they went about war. The Delroi were very disciplined soldiers. There was no useless butchery, no reports of rape, no executed POW's, no wanton destruction of property or land. It confused some of the other military leaders, but she understood. They planned to occupy the land they conquered, assimilate its people. She would have proceeded in the same manner. She sighed. That appeared to be inevitable. At least they didn't show signs of cruelty. Much.

Controlling the fate of women as they did struck her as cruel and unusual punishment. Yet she liked Alrik despite that. On the shuttle she'd been intrigued by him. Amused and appalled was a curious combination. He was charming and funny, but his certainty that women had no place in warfare rankled. She did what she had to do and she was good at it. What was she, if not a soldier? She had spent her adult life mastering the art of war. Sadly, she admitted to herself she had no other skills and it seemed she was embarking on a brave new path. She rolled her eyes at the thought.

She should be angry, but as a professional soldier, she had always dealt with reality. Reality was they couldn't defeat the Delroi and this was their price for surrender. She could make the best of it, or she could turn to rage. Or she could try to figure a way out of it. Rage was tempting, but wouldn't get her anywhere. And other options ... well, at the moment she didn't appear to have any. Accepting the change though, might give her enough leverage to help her people. Provided of course, their offers were real, that they could be trusted. Provided she was willing, able, to give herself over to Alrik. She suspected that would be demanded of her. It was going to be damned hard to resist if he was in the same room.

At least the benefit of that journey was sex. By the time they'd docked on the ship, she was completely turned on by him. Then came the shock of her impending marriage, followed by the most incredible sex she'd ever had. Even now, sore in places that hadn't seen action in well, years, her body hummed with awareness of him.

She closed her eyes and imagined she could feel him moving around the next room. With a jolt of shock, she realized that was exactly what she was feeling. There seemed to be a growing connection between them. She felt it almost as if an invisible cord was stretching from him to her. Recalling the ping she felt between them the first time they had sex, she knew with abrupt clarity he had somehow tied them together. Some of the psychics she knew on Earth claimed to have that kind of connection with their spouses, but she wasn't psychic and had been given no reason to believe he was.

Trying to filter out sensation, she replayed the scene in her mind, skittering to a stop over the strange words he'd uttered. What were they? Were they responsible for this?

She knew she should be pissed. It was bad enough being forced to marry her enemy. That she actually liked him while he had used trickery to force her acceptance was unacceptable. She should feel angry and tried to work up a good temper. It didn't come. Instead, she remained confused, almost disoriented, and filled with need for him. It crawled through her body and invaded every cell like a palpable thing.

Dread set in. It was complete lack of control and she stood, wrapping the sheet around her. He would answer for these strange feelings and stop whatever was happening. She barged into the other room, barely noticing when his brother, Daggar, beat a hasty retreat.

"What have you done to me?" she demanded. To her horror, tears thickened her voice. It didn't sound very commanding. It sounded weak and she hated that, hated herself for feeling it. Hated him for bringing it out. "Never mind that. Undo it!"

Alrik tried to wrap an arm around her and she fought the urge to cling to him. Instead she pulled away and marched across the room.

"Let me explain," he said.

"Do that. No wait. Don't! Just undo it." She tried to finish calmly, but heard the hysteria rising in her voice.

#  Eight

Alrik knew about the demands of the bonding, of course. But knowing intellectually and living it were two wildly different things. When she stirred from sleep, he'd felt her. While discussing the proposed trade agreements with his brother, he'd monitored her, felt her consideration of the situation, her growing confusion, her rising panic, and the ever present growing need for his body.

The best thing to do for both of them would be to kick his brother out, take her, and then talk. By the time her alarm drove her to him, the need overwhelmed her and he feared his own grip on control. Inexplicably, he wanted her to understand before he gave in to the demands of their bodies.

He realized too late she was beyond reasoning with. Tossing her over his shoulder, he returned to the bedchamber. With shaking hands, he ripped the sheet from her grasp and pinned her down. In those few short moments, they were both panting and he plunged into her body in one sure stroke. He held himself immobile, ignoring his body's demand to thrust in and out of her. Her hands came up. Unsure if she meant to fight him or embrace him, he secured her wrists next to her head. She sucked in deep breaths and his heart hammered. This was not how he wanted them to come together.

Lust and confusion warred in her eyes. He watched her face as she battled both, and felt her body soften around him when she gave into the craving. Exhaling a sigh of relief, he released first one wrist then the other, testing her reaction. Instead of clawing his eyes out, she clasped his shoulders and bent her legs, knees at his waist. She lifted her head to bite at his neck, wiggled her hips in silent demand. He was more than happy to oblige her and started moving in fast sure strokes.

They stared at each other in silence, gasping at the strength of the bond's need to merge. Held in its grasp, he couldn't spare a thought for gentleness or fostering future trust. Lifting her ankles over his shoulders, he gave in to his body's demand that he claim her. Hard. Now. He thrust hard enough to move them along the bed. But he was not so far gone that he didn't feel the shudders wrack her body or the way her channel gripped him when she came. He quickly followed and collapsed over her, spent.

*

Laney lay under him trying to catch her breath. What the hell was that? If she weren't on board a space ship, she would have said the earth moved. Come to think of it, the bed had moved. But that didn't account for the way her body hummed or the way she wanted to cling to Alrik when he rolled off of her to pull the sheet back over them. She felt off balance and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the sensation of being ... tethered. Reminding herself over and over again this man was her enemy. But even as she tried to keep that reminder firm in her mind, her body stayed tuned to his as if on high alert. When she found her voice, it came out low and unfamiliar, not the strong voice of command she was accustomed to.

"What's going on here, Torfa?"

He sighed and rested a forearm over his face. "Alrik."

The silence stretched while she waited, and she opened her eyes and rolled on to her side to watch him struggle with his answer. Tension lined his face and she felt a moment's pang at his distress before squashing it down. They were not on the same side. He got them into this mess; he could get them out.

"So Alrik?" she nudged. "Tell me why that just happened. Why do I feel connected to you?"

He lowered his arm and looked at her. "Genetically, we're very similar."

"Yes," she agreed, trying to hurry him up. "Our researchers say there are a few anomalies, but otherwise we're the same."

"Yes," he cleared his throat. "About those anomalies. We don't really understand how it works." He sat up. "We seem to have a ... perfect match, our der'lan. It's probably a prehistoric leftover to assure survival. My world is mostly desert. Survival depends on working together."

Her eyes narrowed as he paused again. She had a sneaking suspicion why he was taking so long to find the right words. He'd already decided the identity of his 'perfect match.' She waited him out.

"My people don't know how the process works, but we do know when we meet our mate. When we see her."

He met her gaze and she saw his certainty reflected there. Some primal part of her responded, but her logical side insisted it was impossible. They weren't from the same planet. They weren't even supposed to be the same species.

"Not me," she denied.

"Oh yes. You." With the sexy grin that threatened to melt her heart, he tugged her onto his chest. His fingers gently traced the fluttering pulse in her neck. "And you feel it too."

"No," she whispered.

Quiet settled over the room. She fought to come up with another explanation. Years of living alone? Years of repressed lust? There had to be a logical, scientific explanation for the extreme awareness she felt, but deep down, she knew the truth of what he said. She shoved the inner voice away. She wasn't ready to admit defeat yet.

Her entire existence was changing, morphing without her knowledge, input or consent. She wanted to wallow in anger at the injustice of it all, but her curiosity and lifelong habit of never surrendering took over. First, she needed to determine if there was a way to break this bond. If not ... well, she would deal with that later. Maybe it wasn't what he said. Maybe it was his pheromones or some gas in the air. Maybe it was an elaborate trick. Science had to have an explanation, whatever it was.

"Okay. Explain the sex thing. Why do I feel connected to you and how do you stop it?"

"You don't stop it," Alrik growled and his fingers tangled in her hair, tugging until they were nose to nose. "The bond once made cannot be broken."

She sighed. She was afraid he'd say that.

"And the sex," he paused as if not approving the word, "is necessary. Our bodies need to join often to reinforce the bond."

His voice lowered on the last words, husky with arousal and his eyes hooded in a look she had begun to identify as 'get ready, he's going to pounce!' Could she starve the bond? Would refusing to feed the craving she felt for him snap it? She fought it, but her body responded without her permission. She was beginning to think his revenge for her military prowess would be to fuck her to death. But what a way to go.

"Doesn't that make it a little hard to get anything done?"

She tried to move off him, but he held her hips in place against his growing erection. She gasped at the feel of him, hard and smooth, warm and just nudging her pussy. Muscles were already clenching to hold him in, she adjusted herself over him and he jerked up, gasping at the contact. Focus here, Laney. But he felt so good lodged inside her, not moving, just existing. The contact alone quieted the need raging through her blood. But ultimately it wasn't enough. She wanted to explore him, wanted to discover every inch of his large, well muscled body. Mostly just wanted to feel him deep enough it threatened her ability to breathe. At the moment she was the one in control and she had every intention of taking advantage of it.

She raised herself up his length slowly, before slamming back down.

"Kind of defeats the survival mechanism theory, doesn't it?" she gasped.

With a wicked smile, she raised herself up again, and he choked out a laugh. Good. She liked a man who could laugh in bed.

"You want to discuss this now?" he asked.

She leaned forward, left a line of light teasing kisses down his neck, across his shoulders, down his chest. She paused at one nipple, exulted at the way he jerked beneath her when her teeth closed over the hard tip. She rocked against him, taking his cock as deeply as she could, but it never felt deep enough.

"It appears to be the only way to finish a conversation with you."

He better hurry up. Every time she thrust down, the tip of his cock hit the sensitive front of her vaginal wall. She quivered with the need to come but tried to hold back, wanting to draw out the superb torture for them both.

"The edge will wear off some, once the bond is firm," he gasped.

Assuming that was as much information as she could expect to get out of him now and no longer able to stand the suspense, Laney reached up and grasped his shoulders for leverage. Her hair swung around them like a dark red curtain, whispering over the hardened tips of her nipples. She groaned in response to the stimulus. Moving in earnest, she increased the pace until their bodies were slamming together. She relished the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, of him filling her as he entered and retreated to just thrust in again. An orgasm wrenched through her body and her muscles milked him, unwilling to let go. A dim corner of her mind registered his roar of release with relief. She really felt worn out now.

#  Nine

Laney woke with a jerk, bolting upright on the bed, a little disoriented. She knew immediately where she was, but it was impossible to judge what time it was in the closed confines of the starship. How long had she slept?

Alrik slumbered next to her, eyes shut and chest rising and falling in a deep even rhythm. She slipped from the bed and crept into the other room, gathering and pulling on her clothes with swift efficient movements. She spared a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure the big warrior hadn't woken before she snuck out into the hall. The door slid softly shut behind her. She leaned against the corridor wall, staring unseeing at the ceiling and grinding her teeth. Anger and shame rode her hard.

She heard footsteps in the distance and straightened, making her face a mask of calm indifference. Only she would realize it was a lie. Setting off in the direction she'd come from earlier, she wandered the maze of the ship until she came back to the shuttle bay and was able to retrace her steps from there to her room.

As she approached she saw a dim glow from the common room and wondered who was left awake at this late hour. Her stomach rumbled. Or if there was any food left in the room. Hunger was as good an excuse as any to check it out. It was something she had a semblance of power over, at least.

Unlike her attraction to the enemy alien or his plans for her.

When she saw who was in the room she wished she could backpedal out, but it was too late. She'd already been spotted.

"Bradford."

"Colonel Eldridge."

She nodded at the man drinking a beer at a table and approached a tall cooler on one wall. She grabbed a bottle of water, eyeing the beer wistfully, and a sandwich before turning back to face him. Using the heel of his boot he shoved a chair out in an invitation to sit. She sat while trying to force away her unease and suspicion. She unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite.

"Guess I don't need to ask where you disappeared to."

She narrowed her eyes but didn't answer. She didn't trust him, didn't know what his game was, and she'd be better off keeping her movements and thoughts to herself until she did. They sat in silence while she finished the small meal, but she felt him watching her. When she looked up and met his gaze, there was a calculating look in his eyes. He was definitely up to something.

"The others have returned to Earth?" she asked, keeping her voice low. The silence of the ship seemed to demand that consideration.

"All but the three of us."

Laney looked around. "Where's the General?"

Eldridge shrugged. "Turned in already."

She nodded and started to stand. Not a bad idea. Eldridge stopped her with a hand on her wrist. His touch made her skin crawl and she just managed to repress a flinch.

"Wait."

"Why?" she asked as she pulled her hand free and slowly sank back in the chair, curiosity and suspicion warring within her.

"You have more to lose here than anyone else."

She snorted. Not a great revelation there. "So?"

He leaned over the table, his voice lowering to almost a whisper. "What if there was another way?"

She cocked an eyebrow. A way out of the marriage or out of the treaty altogether? If Alrik was right about this bond, it wouldn't be so simple to escape, and she refused to believe there was no way to break it. She didn't respond, just sat still and quiet waiting for Eldridge to go on.

"We have the Doomsayer. They can't use it."

The transfer of the weapon had taken place earlier in the evening. Some people thought it was meant to be seen as a sign of cooperation. A step in the right direction, towards peace. Laney was more of the opinion the Delroi didn't need it and maybe wouldn't care if Earth started up hostilities again.

Her smile was brittle. "You think they don't have something similar themselves? They came half way across the galaxy to start this war."

And for what? Earth was in near ruins. They had no resources left worth mentioning. Was it really about women? The idea seemed preposterous. But if there was another motive, damned if she could see it. She shook her head.

"I don't see another way, Colonel, but if you figure something out be sure to let me know."

She moved to stand but again he stopped her.

"You're in the best position to find their weakness."

She arched her eyebrows in an effort to cover her reaction to the suggestion. She was a soldier; it was what she should be doing. Looking for their motives. Ferreting out their strengths and weaknesses. So why did the idea leave such a bad taste in her mouth? She wished Britt and Kendall were with her. Both were old Army friends, Kendall was a doctor and Britt one of Laney's best spies. They were the only two people she trusted implicitly. They were usually her best advisors and if ever she needed a sounding board the time was now.

Eldridge stood and walked towards the doorway. Pausing he looked back over his shoulder and met her gaze.

"Think about it, Sergeant Major."

Damn the man. She would be thinking of little else.

When she was alone she turned to the window she'd been avoiding staring out of before and took a deep breath. Looked out in wonder. The view was magnificent. The inky black background was filled with pinpricks of light and the moon hung huge and close. She lifted her fingers to the glass, traced its shape. They were so close she almost felt as if she could reach out and touch it. Somewhere on the other side of the ship there must be a window that overlooked the Earth. She wanted to see it and promised herself she'd find it later.

She concentrated on what that view would look like, forcing thoughts of Earth conspiracies and alien invaders from her mind. What would she give to go back two years? To go back to a time when her biggest concern was subduing the rebellion of a local protectorate or figuring out which of her soldiers had earned a promotion? She sighed and forced herself to face the hard truth. It had never been that simple.

She heard soft steps behind her, saw a man's reflection in the glass. The first thing she noticed was that he carried himself like Alrik and she thrust the image away. Then she realized she knew this man. Well, not personally. But she'd seen him on Earth before the invasion. Her smile was grim as she studied his image in the glass. This was something she knew how to do. Let the games begin.

#  Ten

Barak ducked behind one of the big bulkheads as the Earth Colonel left the room. He wasn't sure what to do with this new information, so he waited for the woman, to see what her next move would be. When she didn't exit, he stepped out of the shadows and walked the few feet to the open doorway. Her back was to him, and he studied her a few moments trying to decide if she was a threat or not.

"You might as well come in," she said softly, then turned her head to look over her shoulder.

He caught his breath. Reminded himself she belonged to the Commander. But she was stunning. No way around it. Her hair was loose and hung down her back. Her carriage was regal. As if she'd been born to be a prince's der'lan. And it appeared she had been. The question was could she be trusted? Mates did not always live peacefully together. A fact he had unfortunate firsthand knowledge of. His parents had made an art of misery.

She stood before a large view port that looked out over the planet's lone moon. If they'd been on the other side of the ship she'd be able to see Earth and the vast Delroi armada. These rooms had been chosen for that reason, a small concealment of their real strength.

He met her gaze, nodded, but didn't speak. After a few seconds she returned her perusal to the window before her. She was as composed as any leader he'd ever met and that left him uncertain. He hated uncertainty. He'd been on Earth for two years, insinuating himself into the Earth Army. He'd had some opportunity to study her.

She was calm. Controlled. Brilliant. Practically a legend to her own people. As far as the symbolism went, there was no better choice than Sergeant Major Laney Bradford. A well respected leader of Earth mating one of the ruling sons of Delroi. Perfect. Except he couldn't believe she would go so peacefully, give in so easily. Not this woman. Not the Butcher of Roses. Alrik wasn't worried and that was fine. But it was Barak's job to think of these things. His job to stay one step ahead. Which is why he'd been lurking in the hallway when she'd spoken to Eldridge. That one was up to no good. Barak just hadn't figured out how yet.

"I've seen you before," she said, her voice low, a little husky with an edge of steel under it. "Wearing the uniform of one of my brigades."

He got the message. Sergeant Major Bradford was not a woman to be taken lightly or underestimated. She turned around to face him. Her hands hung loosely at her sides, her chin tilted slightly up in the air. He had a vision of her garbed formally for court standing before the throne back home that nearly knocked him to his knees. It wasn't just her beauty or her composure. It was the fiery intelligence blazing from her eyes that nearly did him in.

She arched one eyebrow, her lips twisting into a wry half smile. "What? Did you think I didn't know I had Delroi spies in my midst?"

He stared at her, unsure how to reply. He must be slipping. She chuckled and slid a finger down the side of her face.

"The tattoos are distinctive."

He nodded and rubbed his palm over the tribal markings over the right side of his face. Of course they were. But most people didn't pay close enough attention to recall where they'd seen them and he made a huge effort not to catch the notice of the more observant ones. He'd underestimated her.

She smiled, her eyes flashing a challenge. "So what do we do about it? Spying on me on Earth. Spying on me here. One has to assume you aren't operating without direction."

An accusation against Alrik? He bowed deeply to her, as he would on Delroi when she was Alrik's acknowledged mate. Surprise flashed across her face before it was quickly concealed. He grinned.

"I am an insomniac roaming the halls at night, my lady. Nothing more or less."

Again she raised one of those perfectly arched eyebrows. "I must be the Queen of England then."

With those parting words she left the room and he went in search of a computer to find out who this mysterious queen was.

#  Eleven

Alrik woke hard and wanting. And alone. He panicked for a minute before reason set in. Laney was on board the spaceship in orbit; he felt her presence nearby. She couldn't go far. And they were bonded, which would hold her close even more so than the physical captivity. All the warriors on board knew she was his der'lan. No one would aid an escape attempt or dare harm her.

He crawled out of bed and into the shower, setting the hot spray to pound in to his tense shoulders. His der'lan was going to be more difficult to woo than he thought. He shouldn't have been surprised and maybe a part of him expected it. She was not the kind of woman who'd easily submit and that pleased him. But as the humans would say, it chapped his ass at the same time. There was the bond but there was also a different kind of connection. Or was that just chemistry? Was his desire to know her, know what made her tick a result of their merging biology's or something else? He had to assume it was the otherness that intrigued him. After all, he'd been fascinated with her before their first encounter across that desert valley. Of course then he'd also been wondering if there was a way to have her killed without the blame or suspicion being placed on the Delroi. That was out of the question now. Thank the gods he hadn't given into the need for vengeance after Roses.

He finished the shower and reluctantly dragged his clothes on. His nerve endings were raw from wanting her and the rough fabric scraped over his skin. He gritted his teeth against the painful sensation, his anger rising the harder his cock throbbed for release. She should be here to relieve the pressure.

He reached out with his mind, seeking her out in the halls of the ship. He connected with her in the large conference room where the talks would be held, surrounded by her generals. He sensed her leaning close to one as he whispered in her ear, felt her shock as Alrik moved into her thoughts. She wondered if the man who spoke softly to her could get her out of the bond. He'd expected that. That she would struggle to gain her freedom before she accepted their fate. But he hadn't expected the surge of jealousy. She was his woman and she'd turned to another man for help.

This time the punishment he imagined for her would become reality, and he shared the vision with her as he left his room and strode down the corridor. When the talks broke for lunch, she would remain behind. With him. He'd strip her slowly, maybe with his teeth. His lips curled back in a snarl. He'd mark her. Mar that creamy pale skin that she'd damn well better start accepting was his. But he was getting ahead of himself.

When she was naked, bare and at his mercy, he'd spin her around, place her hands flat on the surface of the conference table and spank that pretty ass just as she deserved. And when he felt she'd learned her lesson, that it was very dangerous to deny your mate or make him jealous, he'd fuck her just as she stood. Fuck her into submission. He'd finish with her just in time for the lunch crowd to return, securing her promise there would be no more sneaking out of his bed or he'd tie her to it.

He felt her shock and reluctant arousal as he shared the vision. Smiled as he felt her determination harden. She hadn't yet accepted that they would be together. He, on the other hand, knew it was a foregone conclusion, but the chase would be interesting. It surprised him how much he was looking forward to tangling with his wary mate. Life with her would never be boring.

His steps slowed as he approached the door to the conference room and he pulled his thoughts together, focused on the talks to come. Two of his soldiers stood guard outside and snapped to attention, their palms fisting and thudding once over their hearts. Then one stepped aside and slapped the panel that forced the door to slide open. Alrik nodded as he stepped through.

The first thing he did when he stepped inside was to seek Laney out. She stood near a table by the wall where refreshments had been set out, talking with her friend. There was very little distance between them and Alrik sent her the image of a crouched growling beast. She stepped away, but her eyes when they met his were narrowed, angry. It irritated her to be ordered around, but infuriated her that she complied. She turned her back to him and continued speaking with her people. He grinned at her show of rebellion. He couldn't wait to bring her to heel, but first things first.

Taking note of the natural division in the room, he turned and strode towards his men. Daggar hadn't arrived yet, but several of their top and most trusted generals were already present. He nodded to them as he passed, but his attention was on Barak Trace—the spymaster. Trace stood apart, in the shadows. His identity was so secret, the rumors of his fierce skills so terrifying, that the people who did know who he was tended to steer clear and give him a wide berth. He was the kind of bogeyman mothers used to scare their children into obedience. No one wanted to find themselves under the scrutiny of Barak Trace.

"Barak." Alrik nodded as he stopped next to the spy. He was a little surprised to see his old friend at this meeting. It didn't bode well. "Problems?"

The other man shrugged and Alrik studied him, trying to determine if there was some real worry or if Barak was just indulging his naturally suspicious nature. It was impossible to read the man. He was big and imposing like everyone of the warrior caste, with the tribal tattoos of the southern rebels stretching down one side of his face and neck. He stood relaxed, loose limbed, no air of expectation about him. Simple curiosity then. Alrik scowled. Except nothing was ever simple with Barak. He was known to keep his thoughts close to his chest and wouldn't necessarily share them with Alrik unless he had something concrete to cause alarm.

Barak jerked his chin towards Laney. "What's she like?"

Alrik allowed himself a small reluctant smile. "Stubborn."

As if sensing their scrutiny, she lifted her head and met his gaze. Her stare was level, controlled. Then she turned and looked at Barak. An assessing gleam lit her eyes and she tilted her head to one side, frowning like she was trying to figure out why he looked familiar.

"She's suspicious of you," Alrik said.

Barak frowned his disapproval. "Didn't you read the report I sent over this morning? I spoke to her in their common room last night. She knows what I am. Recognized me from Earth."

Damn. That possibility should have occurred to him. Barak had been on Earth gathering intelligence months longer than the rest of them. He'd wormed his way into the Alliance army. Back home on Delroi the man's tattoos set him apart, but the Earthlings seemed to have an obsession with marking their bodies and it wasn't so uncommon here. They considered it art. Still, on the face and neck were not so common. He should have realized Laney would remember Barak and he didn't want her questioning too closely what the spy was doing now that they were in peace talks.

Alrik needed to distract her and thought of the small rose tattoo on her breast. He found it sexy, but it had been a surprise. Women on Delroi did not permanently mark their skin like that, but there was an old, mostly abandoned tradition he wondered if she'd adopt.

In the past bonded females, of northern warriors in particular, had pierced their nipples. It was a painful procedure, and a show of submission and strength. His cock hardened again as he shared the image with her. He wanted her to do it, needed that sign of her surrender. He crossed his arms over his chest, snaring her with his gaze, watching the blush spread up her neck to her face. Felt her arousal. He watched the emotions play over her face, knew some of what she was thinking. She didn't think there was a submissive bone in her body, yet she responded to the carnal demands of his shared visions. He wanted to drag her from the room and demonstrate exactly how much mastery he would have over her body. Thankfully, he was spared the embarrassment of dragging a kicking and screaming woman out of the room by the arrival of his brother. It was time to get down to business.

#  Twelve

Laney sat through the morning meeting and seethed. Silently, of course. She wasn't sure what she was angriest about—Alrik with his hot glances and hotter thoughts he kept putting into her mind, or his people's insistence they be integrated into Alliance society. Post haste if you don't mind. They wanted everything from control of Earth's medical facilities to a voice in their government to military outposts. Outrageous demands to make of a people who'd surrendered to prevent the use of a particular weapon but had not been conquered. The Earth forces still had a lot of fight left in them and maybe they'd get lucky. Defeat or repel the alien force. She focused on Eldridge's words the previous evening. What if there was another way?

There was no mention of marriages or bonding or any of that crap either and she wasn't about to bring it up, yet. She wanted to speak privately with Bob and the Prime Minister first. After the images Alrik had mentally shared with her earlier—and how the hell did he do that?—Laney knew exactly what Alrik expected from her. Not disclosing this odd ability the Delroi had to bind women to them seemed a betrayal of every woman on Earth.

As Daggar and the Prime Minister argued back and forth over concessions and terms, something else crystallized for her: the Prime Minister was furious with his military staff for surrendering. Given her own role in that surrender—ordering it before any of the generals with her had agreed to it—and her current role in the peace talks, she was in a unique position to share his frustration and rage. She was also the recipient of most of his ire. She got the impression he was more than happy to throw her to the wolves. Approaching him about what would happen to the women of Earth under this treaty would be damned tricky.

Unfortunately, she was a reasoning woman and she didn't miss the undercurrents swirling throughout the room. The Earth contingent was beyond suspicious—rightly so—and the Delroi were ready, willing, and able to launch a full out assault on the planet. She knew the military capabilities of their forces better than most people in the room and she just wasn't sure they could defeat the Delroi. Part of her realized continuing the war would be suicide and didn't care. Better to die fighting, right? But the other part of her insisted she hadn't spent years at war to lose it all, here and now.

Which begged the question: Did the freedom of what were undoubtedly a small number of women outweigh the needs of every man, woman, and child on the planet? Was she seriously considering selling some of her own people into servitude? Or was she being overly dramatic because she couldn't quite deal with being one of those women? She didn't have enough information yet to make an informed conclusion.

Too bad none of her spies were around. She could use Britt's help right about now. Her eyes narrowed as she looked around the room and met the tattooed man's gaze. Speaking of spies. He sat eerily still. Never fidgeted. Never reacted to the heated arguments in the room. She wondered if he'd reported his run-in with her the previous night to Alrik. She couldn't guess. When she met his gaze, there was no flicker of awareness, no acknowledgment they'd met.

Last night he'd seemed nervous, thrown off guard. Today he was all cool operator and she was forced to reevaluate their first meeting. Had the chance encounter and nerves been calculated? Had he reported to Alrik as soon as she left? Did he even work for Alrik? And what was a spy doing sitting in on the peace talks anyway? He'd been introduced plainly as General Barak Trace. No mention of his job title or position. She didn't call anyone out on that. It wasn't like she hadn't tried to get her own spies into the enemy camp, and looking around the room she was aware that there were several games in play. The Delroi spy might be useful later.

"One last thing before we adjourn for lunch," Daggar said.

Laney came to attention, focused on escaping when he was done. She knew what Alrik had planned. Her body was all for it, growing hot and achy at the mere thought. Her brain however, was not .

"We want the marriage ceremony scheduled as soon as possible." He hesitated a little over the word marriage, but every eye in the room turned to her anyway.

She forced herself not to react, held her features still and calm even though her heart threatened to burst from her chest.

"We have this little tradition on Earth," she drawled. "Brides are expected to be ... willing."

Alrik leaned back in his chair, grinning and crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh you're willing, darlin'."

She rolled her eyes and fought the urge to lash out. The similarities between the endearment and his word for mate didn't escape her notice. Nor did the fact that none of her people knew about it while all the Delroi in the room smirked along with him.

She smiled with false sweetness. "Don't count on it, General."

"It's a condition of the truce," Daggar reminded her, his tone hard and disapproving.

"The Sergeant Major is well aware of her duty, Lord Torfa," the Prime Minister said icily.

His eyes were full of cold, barely contained fury. She glared back at him. Now was not the best time for him to remind her of how her own people were willing to sell her off to buy a little peace. Ironic that she'd just been considering doing the same thing.

She turned back to Daggar and was held by his gaze. It was direct and challenging, without any hint of backing down. She knew in the murky waters she was moving into he'd make a better ally than enemy and she wasn't going to win this fight, not at this time and not in this room, against a man who was essentially a king. He'd never allow it. Neither, she realized, would Alrik. He'd made no move to intervene. She had dug this hole and he was leaving it up to her to find a way out of it.

"Perhaps we could discuss this privately. Later," she said softly hoping he'd allow her that much dignity at least.

He turned to his brother and some kind of silent communication seemed to pass between them. Did they have the same abilities to communicate that Alrik had been using against her? She didn't think so. Maybe it was just the closeness of brothers and years of working together. Finally Daggar nodded and stood. Everyone else followed suit and the room began to empty.

She moved fast and with her smaller stature was able to edge ahead of a couple people in her haste to leave. Her relief was short lived, however. She had almost made it. A mere two feet from the door, an arm snagged her around her waist. She struggled against the hold, but Alrik pulled her back against his chest and leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Don't even think about it, Laney. Or you'll find out just how dominant I really am and I doubt that is a lesson you want to learn in a room full of people."

She caught her breath in a mixture of outrage and lust. Was it the veiled threat that turned her on or his hard cock that was currently pushing against her ass? She watched the retreating backs of the crowd that had kept her relatively safe. When everyone was gone, Alrik stepped around her, keeping one hand on her upper arm.

"No one enters," he said to the guards who waited outside the room. They nodded and the door slid closed, sealing off her escape route.

He turned to face her with such a feral look that her heart lodged in her throat and she backed up a step. He followed and they kept up the ridiculous dance until the backs of her thighs hit a chair, causing her to lose her balance. He grabbed her before she could fall, seizing the opportunity to pull her close and nuzzled her neck. She couldn't stop the moan that was dragged from her. God help her. She didn't want to want him, but there was no denying it, she did. A small voice in her head reminded her he was the enemy and called her ten kinds of fool. She told it to shut up.

He quickly removed her uniform shirt and ripped the thin undershirt off over her head. His mouth closed over her nipple and bit down, as she arched into him. While he suckled her, he popped open her trousers buttons. He shoved them down and one long finger found and slid over her clit. Her whole body jerked and her head fell back, eyes squeezed shut hard enough to see stars. She was close to coming, panting now and desperate for him to finish her off. Then he stopped.

He'd pulled the chair away from the table and set her down so her bottom perched on its edge. When she opened her eyes he was stripping, watching her silently with eyes gone dark with hunger and anger. Within seconds he was completely naked. Tall. Strapping. Gorgeous. She struggled to remember why she was fighting him. He stepped forward and caught her chin lifting it to meet his gaze.

"You won't sneak out of our bed in the middle of the night again."

She nodded. Okay. Whatever. Could he get on with it? She was dying here.

"Say it, Laney. I don't want there to be any misunderstandings between us on this issue."

The man had an amazing ability to take her from desperate for him to fuck her to completely pissed off. Two seconds flat. That had to be a record.

"Don't be so sure you're going to find me there anytime soon," she snapped.

His smile promised otherwise. "But I will. If I have to tie you to it to make my point."

She made a move to get up and he was in her in face, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise and holding her in place. Her cooling body screamed back to life. Unbelievable. She liked the rough treatment, liked the promise of retribution she saw in his eyes. Liked not being treated like a fragile doll. He leaned over to rest his lips against the pounding pulse in her neck.

"I think you would like that, my der'lan. Perhaps that is a game we'll have to attempt soon. For now though..." He straightened and pulled her to her feet, "I have an earlier promise to fulfill."

He spun her around and forced her to bend at the waist, placing her palms flat against the surface of the table. She remembered the visions he'd shared earlier started with a spanking. No way in hell! She tried to stand, but he'd nudged her legs as far apart as they would go with her pants trapped around her thighs and he'd stepped between them. She was caged in. She felt his cock against her ass and groaned. Maybe this wasn't such a bad thing.

#  Thirteen

Alrik took a step back and reined in his need to pound hard and fast into her. She shifted and he felt her confusion as he placed his palm on the back of her neck. Slowly, he dragged it down her spine enjoying the smooth feel of her skin, the way it heated under his touch. He paused at the small of her back, taking a moment to enjoy the way she looked in the submissive pose, wondering if she would like what came next. His breath quickened, because he knew he sure as hell would.

Finally he lifted his hand and lightly slapped her ass. She gasped but otherwise gave nothing of her reaction away. He tried it again, this time harder, but she stayed still and silent. He frowned. His need for control didn't stretch to her not enjoying being disciplined. If she wasn't into it, he'd find another way. Before he could pursue that, she turned her head to look over her shoulder at him arching one eyebrow in question. Then she wiggled her ass. If that wasn't an invitation, he didn't know what was.

The next slap was hard enough to leave a rosy mark and she groaned, moving into the next stroke. His reason for punishing her began to blur. Was this about her leaving his bed? Of something else, something darker? She was his der'lan, but she'd made it clear she wouldn't surrender easily. She was still his enemy and had been the worst of them. Possibly still was.

He slapped harder and harder until they were both panting and he was afraid to go on. He didn't want to hurt her. Ever. But he felt his control slipping, the black rage over what she'd done at Roses rising. She'd sunk to her elbows against the table and he knew she was at her limit also. She looked over her shoulder.

"Don't stop, Alrik," she whispered. "Please..."

May the Gods help him, but he couldn't go on now. The rage had to be conquered before he attempted this again. Instead he moved his hand between her legs, testing her channel. He hoped she was ready because he honestly didn't think he could hold back any longer. To his relief she was so wet and hot, he didn't have to even pause to think about it before thrusting into her. She screamed, convulsing around him as she came. It was all he needed to follow her into orgasm and he bit her neck, not resisting the instinct to mark her, as the hot jets of his come filled her, the past and what had brought them to this place temporarily forgotten.

He collapsed into the chair he'd moved out of the way earlier and pulled her down onto his lap. She curled up on her side, her head pillowed against his shoulder. He closed his eyes and waited for his breathing to even out. He could get used to this real fast, wished they had a few days to explore and learn each other. His communicator beeped. He sighed. That wasn't going to happen, not even when he got her home. There was too much to do. He'd never worried about juggling his duties with time spent with his mate. Now the idea gave him pause. The small device in his tunic pocket chirped again and he stretched out one arm to grab it.

Flipping it open, he barked into the speaker. "Torfa."

"Nice to talk to you too, Alrik." There was laughter in his brother's voice. He'd better have a damned good reason for calling. "Hate to interrupt, but you're going to have a crowd in there soon."

That was definitely good enough reason. He didn't know her well, but he knew Laney wouldn't appreciate being caught sprawled naked across his lap. And he wanted to keep all her assets to himself. The Delroi had enough sense not to ogle another man's woman. The humans weren't that smart and he'd hate to have to start the next session off by killing one of her comrades.

"Understood," he answered and flipped the communicator closed.

Laney straightened but didn't stand. "Problem?"

"They'll be back soon."

He didn't have to say another word. She stood and re-dressed, stepping over to a mirror to check her appearance. Other than a lingering flush she looked just as she had during the meeting. He caught her hand as she started to walk by him.

"You will sleep with me tonight." He lifted a hand to trace the side of her face and was rewarded by a flare of awareness in her eyes. "All night, darlin'."

She nodded but didn't voice her agreement and stepped away from him as the door slid open to admit his brother, followed by the Delroi and her people. He frowned at the way she seemed to be able to completely withdraw from him and he wondered where she went when she cut herself off like that. Things were not progressing the way he'd expected. Physically, she was his. The bond assured that. But emotionally and mentally, they were a long way apart. It finally dawned on him how hard it was going to be to win her heart. He smiled as she resumed her seat. That was fine; he was up for the challenge and wouldn't settle for anything less than complete surrender. Taking a deep breath, he returned to his chair and began to make plans.

#  Fourteen

Laney spent the rest of the afternoon negotiations trying to ignore Alrik. She wasn't very successful and her concentration was shot to hell. If she were asked her opinion later, she wouldn't be able to give one because she'd zoned out most of the day.

She was toast. She wanted to be bitchy and keep an emotional distance but the minute he touched her, she was horny and desperate. Betrayed by her own damned body. She'd had more sex in the last two days than the last five years and it hadn't taken the edge off one bit, if anything she wanted him more. And she wanted it in ways she'd never dreamed of. God. She'd let him spank her, had practically begged him to. It had turned her on so much she'd come as soon as he thrust into her. She felt a curious lack of embarrassment at the memory. She never would have believed she'd get off on a little pain and dominance if she hadn't experienced it firsthand.

The meeting finally broke up for dinner. Alrik and his brother were the first to leave, but he met her gaze as he left. Hot. Primal. Possessive. It promised hours of sensual pleasure and her stomach fluttered as she realized those hours were not far off. The yearning she felt for that made her leery and set her nerves on edge. She wasn't denying its magnificence, but this kind of chemistry was bound to crash and burn sooner or later, wasn't it? What happened then? Did she become an alien's cast off far from home?

She was filled with doubts and anxiety about him, his people, the treaty. Her physical reaction to him just added to the burden. When she was in the same room with him, she couldn't get her brain to wrap around anything but sex. It made her feel like a traitor.

It was all about control. She needed information more than anything else right now, much as her body disagreed. Time for a little recon. She let the crowd trickle out while delaying her departure at the coffee table. She made herself a cup, adding a liberal dose of sugar to the bitter brew, and exited the room. Instead of turning right and taking the corridor that would lead back to the guest quarters they'd been put in or the shuttle bay where everyone else was heading, she turned right, determined to explore the ship. You never knew what you might discover by accident after all.

She realized immediately she was being followed. The sound of footsteps was impossible to muffle on steel floors. Two sets. The guards who'd stood outside the door, she bet, but she didn't turn around to verify the guess. She wandered for an hour, her silent escort keeping an irritating pace behind her. Finally, she couldn't stand it and stopped. Turning around, she set her hands on her hips and glared.

"Is there a reason you're following me?"

"Orders, my lady," one answered.

It was the second time someone had used the honorific when addressing her, but she let it pass. She was certain she already knew the answer to her next question. "Whose?"

"General Torfa's."

So he didn't trust her loose on his ship? Damn right. He should be nervous. She wasn't going to roll over and play dead just because the sex was great. If she went through with this, it would be because she was positive dealing with the Delroi was good for her people and a better alternative to an ongoing war she couldn't see a way to win. And he'd have to understand that she was an independent woman with a brain. A partner or nothing. Not too much to ask in her opinion.

"He's concerned for your safety," the other piped up a disapproving note to his tone.

She arched an eyebrow. Interesting. They'd been led to believe all the Delroi were on the same page with the negotiations, but maybe that wasn't the case. Was there dissent in the ranks? Enough to endanger her? She remembered the nickname they'd given her and wondered if the survivors of Roses would be as forgiving as Alrik and his brother seemed to be. She cocked her head to one side and studied the two warriors.

"And who would be a threat to me here?"

The one who'd mentioned her safety, or lack thereof, blinked and an invisible mask descended over of his face as if he realized he'd overstepped a line.

"You'll have to ask the General."

She nodded. Excellent. She'd expected that answer. She knew she was good and lost, but she wasn't about to admit it. She could wander around for another hour and not find her way back and she didn't want them to realize it.

"Take me to him then."

They turned and headed in the direction she'd just come from, but only went a few steps before turning off into a narrow hallway she hadn't noticed before. She made an exasperated noise. The place was a maze, one long gunmetal gray corridor after the other. She was beginning to think she'd never figure it out when the corridor widened into a big common area. Surprise held her in place for a few seconds, before awe forced her to move.

She barely registered the tables she picked her way through or the long bar across one wall or the people milling around. She walked straight toward the wide expanse of glass. Through the window she saw ships, dozens of them. Perhaps as many as one hundred. An armada. They were serious about winning this war and she was pretty sure no one else in the Earth delegation had seen this, had any idea what the Delroi numbers actually were. She experienced a moment of despair. There was no way they could prevail against a force of this size. She shook the thought off and whispered to herself. Find another way.

Past the ships, as if hung up for background, was Earth. From space it looked blue and white and green and perfect. None of the damage the years of pollution and war had wrought was evident. It took her breath away. This was what she'd fought so hard and long for. This is what she'd continue to fight to preserve. Even if it meant sleeping with the enemy.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

She didn't turn to meet Alrik's gaze, though she was a little surprised she'd been so distracted she'd missed his arrival. He stood close behind her. So close she felt his body heat, knew if she leaned back she would rest against his chest. A curious ache twisted her heart. She'd never had anyone she'd trusted enough to lean on, but for some inexplicable reason she knew she could trust this alien invader to catch her if she fell.

"It is beautiful," she answered softly.

He took her elbow and tugged. "Come, sit over here."

Grudgingly—she wasn't quite ready to give up that view—she turned and followed him the few feet to one of the small round tables closest to the window. He pulled a chair out for her and then disappeared into the small crowd. When he returned he held two glasses filled with blue liquid. After setting them on the table he took the seat next to her, pulling it aside so he could stretch his long legs out into the path. His pose was languid, his movements smooth. The casualness belied his strength. She'd never before known a man who was so, well, male. Her pulse kicked up at the thought, at the memory of what he could do with all that masculine power. Looking for a distraction, she picked up the glass, raised it to her nose and sniffed.

"Trying to get me drunk on alien wine?" she joked.

He grinned. "Would it work?"

She laughed. She was a lightweight. "Probably."

"It's called gazzi. Very popular at home. Try it."

She took a small sip, then another. It was light and sweet like a good dessert wine. But how much alcohol was in it? Best to go slow. She didn't want to get even a little tipsy until she had some answers, and not even then, probably. Who knew what would happen to her disappearing inhibitions if she got a good buzz going? She set the glass down and met Alrik's gaze, trying desperately to ignore the heat she saw in them and the answering swell of her own libido. She took another long drink. Maybe drunk would be better.

"You should have brought the whole bottle," she muttered.

He laughed. "You have a one glass limit."

What the hell? She may be forced to marry him, but this would not be his traditional man in charge arrangement. "Excuse me?"

"You could be pregnant." His voice was completely calm as he delivered the statement, but the gleam in his eyes told her that was a development he'd welcome.

As for herself? She waited for the surge of fear that didn't come. She'd never considered having children. The very idea had always engineered abject terror. But the thought of having Alrik's baby didn't make her want to run for cover and that scared her. It took her addled brain a minute to work out the real problem. God, she was an idiot. She could be pregnant because it had never once occurred to her to use protection.

But pregnancy was the least of her worries. There were some very nasty STD's making the rounds since the century-old HIV virus had begun to mutate. The kindest killed you quickly. The others disfigured you and let you linger half dead for years. She couldn't believe she'd been so careless and was shaken to her core. The oversight could cost her dearly. The noise level in the room finally registered and she looked around at the growing crowd. She changed the subject, because she did not want to discuss it here.

"So tell me...why do I need guards?"

He shrugged. "Your people aren't happy with the current arrangements."

She cocked an eyebrow. He was worried about her people? "And my reputation with your people has nothing to do with it?"

He sighed. "No warrior would ever threaten another's der'lan. Or any woman."

She waited expectantly for the rest of his statement but it wasn't forthcoming. "But?"

He scowled. "I'm not taking any chances. With your people or mine."

Shit. She'd known things were going too well.

"Have you eaten?" he asked as he stood. She noticed his drink was empty and picked hers up to finish it before standing. When she sat the empty glass down, she stood.

"No."

#  Fifteen

After making arrangements to have dinner sent, Alrik led her back to their rooms. He was desperate to get her alone and naked, but the food was waiting for them when they arrived and he found he wanted to feed her more than he wanted sex. She hadn't responded to his suggestion that she might be pregnant, but he was positive she was. She already carried the next generation of warrior leaders and would need her strength.

He decided on dinner in bed. It expedited matters. Nudging her towards the bedroom, he lifted the tray and followed her in. It was an exercise in restraint watching her hips sway with every step. He wanted her straining under him, arching up to meet his thrusts. He shook off the vision before it could fully form and set the tray on the bedside table. Then he turned and pulled her into his arms for a kiss. The need to touch her, to own and possess her was overwhelming, but somehow he kept it brief.

She was breathing hard, her breasts rising and falling in a fast rhythm when he released her and he knew his restraint would be short lived. If he lasted long enough to feed her first, he'd be amazed. He smiled as he reached for the buttons that held her shirt closed, a plan forming in his mind that he was careful not to share with her.

She watched him curiously, but she didn't resist as he stripped her and gave her a small push down onto the bed, nudging her over so he could crouch next to her. He piled the pillows under her head and upper back so she was lounging back, then pulled the belt from his trousers. He looped it around her wrists, careful not to pull it too tight, then lifted her arms to the bar that stretched across the headboard and secured it. Sitting back on his heels, he grinned at his handiwork while she cocked an eyebrow.

"I don't know if this works for me. I thought we were eating dinner?"

He leaned over and kissed her belly, looking up at her as he did. He lowered his hand so that he could cup her pussy, rubbing one finger lightly over her clit. She gritted her teeth against a groan, against the demand that he fuck her now, but he knew she wanted it. Felt her desire on his fingers.

"Don't worry, der'lan. First, we feed the baby. Then we'll feed ... me."

"I doubt I'm pregnant. But there are other..." He thrust one finger into her hot wet channel and was rewarded with a low, sweet groan before she finished her sentence. "considerations."

He forced himself to withdraw and reached for the cover on the tray.

"No, there aren't," he answered. "My people are immune to the diseases that plague yours."

He didn't add that even if that wasn't true, it didn't matter. He hadn't touched any woman from Earth but her, or any woman at all for longer than he cared to recall. And he knew from Barak's report, which included a stolen copy of her last medical exam, that she was just as safe. All things he should have discussed with her, but his more immediate concern was getting her fed and penetrated. He focused on the tray.

He'd asked for a traditional Earth dinner and was surprised at how much the unfamiliar food smelled like a meal he'd find at home. Maybe he was picking up on Laney's feelings. He chuckled when her stomach grumbled and picked up a fork.

He scooped up something that looked like creamy white cotton and lifted the food to her mouth. Her eyes flashed with annoyance but she opened for the offering, humming when her lips closed around it and he slid the utensil free. He took a bite and found himself echoing her approval.

"What is this?"

"Mashed potatoes." She grinned. "Bad for you, but oh so good."

He cocked an eyebrow and fed her another bite. "Bad how?"

After swallowing, she answered. "Fattening. Lots of milk and butter."

Grinning, he continued to feed her, this time cutting off a piece of soft meat. "Don't worry. I'll work it off."

It looked stringy and a bit red to him, but she groaned when it hit her taste buds. He took a bite but didn't find it as appealing as the potatoes. Too bland for a palate more accustomed to hot spicy foods. He speared a cylindrical green vegetable. Her reaction to it wasn't as satisfying, but she did close her eyes and chew with a sigh.

"And that?"

"Green beans. And roast. Can I have another bite of the roast, please?"

He speared the meat with the fork again and watched as an expression of near bliss crossed her face. There was something incredibly alluring about watching the woman eat. His cock swelled, urging him to hurry.

"You act like it's been years since you've eaten," he joked, trying to distract himself from the lust surging through his veins.

"Mmmm," she mumbled around a mouthful of the roast. "Army rations leave a lot to be desired. What did you do? Kidnap one of our civilian chefs?"

He chuckled. "I have no idea, but I think I'll find one to take back to Delroi with us."

She didn't react to his mention of his home world. Disappointment and irritation warred together. She was still resisting their union despite it being inevitable. He should have expected that. She was a soldier, after all, and unsure of his people. What he didn't expect was her lack of communication. After their initial clash there was no railing against her fate, no cajoling, no negotiating or curiosity. Well, maybe that was what her wandering around this evening was about. Whatever her feelings were on the situation, she was keeping them to herself and that just pissed him off.

He sensed a frontal assault would backfire on him, though, so he kept his thoughts to himself and redirected his attention to where he could make headway. Her body was his. His instrument to play and master. Through it he'd convince her that her heart and soul were his too, her fate intertwined with his.

When he fed her the next bite, he leaned forward and kissed the hollow of her neck. She swallowed convulsively but otherwise didn't react. Determined to get a response, he repeated the action, moving lower with each bite. By the time he reached the swell of her breast, her skin was hot, her breathing labored. He fed her another bite, then closed his mouth around her pebbled nipple. She bowed off the pillows, brushing her body against his and setting his blood on fire.

"No more," she panted.

"Mmmm." He swirled his tongue around her nipple then sucked it back into his mouth. He lifted his eyes to meet hers, saw they were wide and wanting. Straightening, he turned to the tray. She'd eaten enough to satisfy him, but the galley staff had also sent dessert. He'd been on Earth long enough to recognize the chocolate cake. Next to it was set a small bottle that intrigued him and he picked it up. The label proclaimed it chocolate syrup. He knew what syrup was and he knew what chocolate was. The two mixed together had fascinating possibilities.

He turned back to her and upended the bottle. A fine drizzle of the stuff poured out and he guided the bottle over her torso from the tops of her breasts to her belly button, leaving an interesting path that had to be cleaned up. With his tongue. He started with the end of the trail over her stomach and followed it up.

#  Sixteen

Laney watched. She wanted to close her eyes and just feel, but they wouldn't obey her. Who knew being fed could be such an erotic, sensual act? That was hard enough to fight but the chocolate syrup was over the top. She gave up resisting the pull. His tongue followed a track with a clear destination. It scraped over nerve endings made raw from his previous attentions, bringing her body to a fever pitch. When his tongue reached the first nipple, swirled around it to sweep up every drop before his teeth closed over and tugged it, she exploded. The pleasure was so intense her mind simply flew apart.

His tongue followed the trail across her chest to the hollow between her breasts and up to the other side. While she convulsed with aftershocks, he sucked on her other nipple and she came again. Her body seizing up with the bliss. Her mind disintegrated. She tried to remind herself she wasn't supposed to like this—this alien lover bending her to his will, being tied down and forced to accept what he gave her—but she was so far gone, so frantic for his touch, for more, that she didn't care. She'd agree to anything, anything at all to have him.

"Alrik. Please." She strained against him, against the bonds, her hips thrusting up in a mindless demand of their own. He released her nipple with a slow wet slide and shifted to loom over her, his eyes meeting hers.

"Anything der'lan," he whispered. "Just tell me what you need."

She almost sobbed. He knew what she needed, but he would make her say it anyway. Ask. Beg. And she'd do it. He'd stripped her bare; she had no pride left.

"I need you inside me."

Okay, so it came out more demand than plea. He didn't seem to mind. One side of his mouth turned up in a half smile and he stood, jerking his clothes off before coming back to her. He blanketed her with his body, his cock hard and long and throbbing resting against her entrance. He took her face in the palms of his hands and held her still, meeting her gaze.

"Anything for you, my der'lan. Anything."

Then he plunged into her and the combination of his erection and the soft whisper that promised absolute carnal delight threw her over the edge again. He whispered in her ear as he worked her. Hot desires, hotter demands. He kept her coming until she rode a high of pleasure so intense it was almost painful, until she knew she'd never be able to associate physical joy with anyone else and her brain shut down. She passed out. When she came to, her hands had been freed and Alrik was leaning over her with a worried but satisfied expression on his face.

"I've heard rumors but I never believed them," he said.

"Of what?" She knew by his smirk she probably didn't want to hear the answer to her question.

His smile broadened. "That it was possible to pleasure your mate so much she'd faint."

She scowled, felt her brows draw dangerously close together. He was really pushing his luck. "I did not faint. I just blanked out for a second."

"Of course, darlin'."

"And not from pleasure either," she added mulishly. The truth underlying his statement was outrageous. Unbelievable. "You had me tied down. I was under duress."

Rolling over to lie on his back next to her he laughed, a big belly laugh she never would have expected he was capable of. It was delightful. "We both know that for the lie it is, Laney."

She stared at the ceiling and pressed her lips together, fighting her own laughter and unable to deny his assertion, but not quite ready to admit to anything either. She'd kept herself divorced from strong feelings for so long she didn't know how to cope with this. So she forced her mind to turn analytical while her body struggled to remain focused on the man, the alien, next to her.

It wasn't like any attraction she'd ever experienced before or witnessed and the sex was so much more intense than any fantasy could hope to compare to. Even now, when she should be sated and satisfied, her pulse spiked and her body flushed with anticipation. Maybe he had supercharged alien pheromones. Actually, that might not be so far off. What did they know about the Delroi really? She rolled her head to the side to watch his profile, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him.

"Why would your seers send you here?"

He turned to meet her gaze raising one eyebrow. "What?"

"Your brother said yesterday your seers were right," she reminded him.

"Ah." He crossed his arms under his head and looked up as if searching for the right words. "Our xenobiologists believe humanoid life in this quadrant of the galaxy began all in one place. It would explain why we're so similar."

She frowned. Her people had spent more time at war with each other than exploring beyond their solar system.

"So there are other planets like ours? Other people like ours? Why come to Earth then?"

He sighed, rolled over and propped himself up on his elbow. With one finger he traced the contours of her face and she fought her reaction, the rising tide of lust and affection. Where was that coming from? She was here as a prisoner, not by her choice.

"There are other humanoids, but not like you or us. We're the most similar. The others have evolved too far from whatever the original gene pool was."

He leaned down slowly, incrementally, letting her see him come. As if she could run? Even if she'd wanted to she couldn't. She was frozen in place, held still by the emotion glowing in his eyes. It was more than lust, more than mere desire. His need for her raged and it took her breath away. Stole into her heart. When his lips met hers they were soft, tender. His tongue swept into her mouth the same way. Gently demanding, gently marauding. They were both panting when he lifted his head.

"That's why we came here," he whispered. "There isn't anything like this in the universe. Like the connection we share. That true mates share."

He rolled on top her, pulling her legs up over his shoulders before thrusting into her.

"And yes. It's worth going to war over."

#  Seventeen

Laney woke slowly the next morning and bit back a moan at the unaccustomed soreness in her body. What she wouldn't do for a hot pounding shower and some clean clothes. Hearing voices from the other room, she considered pulling the sheet over her head and hiding out for the rest of the day. Years of ingrained habit couldn't be broken in one morning, however.

She stood and took her first good look around, which was surprising considering all the time she'd spent in the room. There was a long dresser on the wall opposite the bed and her bag rested on top of it. She hoped Alrik had gone to get it himself. She didn't like the idea of him looking or going through her things, but a complete stranger would have been worse. She'd worry later over him taking it on himself to move her in, and why she wasn't as bothered by it as she should be.

A door tucked in the corner of the wall stood open and she walked over. It had to be a bathroom with—please God—a shower. Peeking her head in, she was happy to see the standard facilities and a small shower stall.

In the bedroom, she dug through her duffle and found her personal kit. She carried it with her to the shower, figured out how to get the water going and adjusted by randomly playing with the buttons on the wall, then let its heat pelt over her. Pouring shampoo in her hand, she worked it through the long length of her hair and wondered what was expected of her now. She was tempted to bang her head against the wall. A good whack might do her some good.

Yesterday she'd joined the Alliance side of the negotiating table out of a lifelong habit, but under the circumstances could she still consider herself a Sergeant Major answering to Earth? Or was she cut free from those obligations and now answerable to Delroi authority? Which faction did her loyalty lie with? Because she couldn't fool herself. If the marriage went through, and apparently it was going to, and if the union produced offspring, a distinct possibility, then her allegiances would definitely shift. She frowned, then sighed. Not that she could turn her back on Earth, but there was no denying her feelings toward Alrik were softening, changing. She felt pulled in ten different directions.

Stepping out of the shower, she hurriedly toweled off and dressed in a clean uniform. She wasn't sure if she still had the right to wear it, but she didn't have any alternatives on board the ship. Digging through her bag, she found a comb and worked it through her wet hair, pinning it up in a makeshift bun rather than trying to braid it wet. Once she thought she was presentable, she opened the door and stepped into the next room.

The first thing she noticed was the smell of coffee and she looked around for the source. There was a table to her side with a coffee pot and several mugs. She would have gone straight for it, but then she noticed the silence. Her gaze swept the room and froze on the woman lounging on the couch next to Alrik. Laney felt her eyebrows arch so high they had to hit her hairline. They looked awfully cozy sitting next to each other. What was all that talk about perfect mates over the last couple of days?

Alrik stood and smiled at her, as if he wasn't looking entirely too comfortable with some other woman. She couldn't believe the possessive streak she suddenly felt. She didn't want him, right? He held his hand out and spoke.

"Laney, come and meet my aunt."

She blinked. Okay, time to beat back the jealousy. She approached cautiously, not quite sure what to expect. This was the first Delroi woman she had seen. She realized with a jolt that wasn't true. There had been women in the hangar bay when she'd been searching for Alrik the first night and again yesterday in the lounge. She'd just been too angry to notice them the first time and too distracted the second. Laney took Alrik's hand and let him tug her to the couch. The grin was back, this time mischievous instead of sexy and she braced herself for another shock as she sat down.

"Sergeant Major Laney Bradford allow me to introduce you to Cilia, the Overchief of the Healer caste and my mother's sister."

It was a good thing she was sitting down. What was all that talk on the shuttle about a woman's place? All his show of superior male dominance? She frowned. Come to think of it, it seemed to focus on women in the Army. She realized she still had a great deal to learn about these people and glared at Alrik. Why did she suspect he'd misled her intentionally?

Laney turned to Cilia and smiled. "It's nice to meet you."

Cilia smiled demurely at Alrik, but her voice had enough bite to make Laney bite her bottom lip to stop the smile. "I see my nephew hasn't exactly been fostering diplomacy between our worlds."

Alrik winced in response. "I had other things on my mind, Cilia."

"Hmm," she murmured with an amused smile. "I can see that."

Laney watched the big soldier fidget uncomfortably under his aunt's sharp gaze with amusement. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as she thought.

Cilia took a dainty drink from her cup and set it on a side table, then stood. Stunned, Laney caught her breath. Would she be expected to dress the same way as Cilia? The woman wore thin gauzy pants and a tight shirt that left a thin strip of skin around her midsection exposed. Her braided hair fell to the small of her back. She didn't fit the pampered image Laney had of the Delroi women. She was tall and lean, well muscled and strong looking. Cilia smiled at her perusal, amusement lighting her eyes.

"Definitely gave you the wrong idea, I think."

Laney grinned back and nodded. "I think so too."

"I'm stealing her for a little while, Alrik. You have things to do and the poor girl is going to need a crash course in Delroi society."

Laney stood, looking back and forth between the two of them. "I need to check in with my people. I'm kind of in limbo here."

Cilia took her hand between hers. "No dear. You aren't. Alrik should have explained this already, but we'll talk while we take a walk in the gardens."

"Gardens?" They had a garden on board a spaceship? She knew they had far superior technology but gardens seemed a little out of character.

Cilia noticed and grinned, tugging her towards the door. "Men don't seem to notice pretty things other than women, so we usually have it to ourselves." She winked at Alrik. "That's where you go when you need a break from all the testosterone."

"Excuse me?" Alrik said. "Don't go corrupting her, Cilia. She's not an Overchief and she's mated into the Warrior caste. She can't get away with what you can."

Cilia just grinned back unrepentantly and pulled Laney into the hall. They chatted about nonsense while Cilia led her through the ship and the pattern of the corridors finally began to make sense to Laney. They walked a spiral deeper and deeper into the heart of the vessel. Finally, they stopped before a door that slid open to reveal an elevator. After stepping inside, it zipped up, stopping a few seconds later at a large platform.

Laney looked around in wonder as she followed Cilia off the lift. There was a high, clear dome above them, revealing the vast blackness of space; but around her was a lush green jungle. Paths wound out from the center like the spokes of a wheel and the sound of gurgling water filled the air.

"Amazing," she whispered.

Cilia looked around. "It is, isn't it? Let's walk." She chose a path and Laney fell into step beside her.

"Does your world look like this?"

"Oh no. Only our private gardens. Our planet is mostly desert."

Laney arched an eyebrow. Alrik had said that, but it hadn't really registered at the time. She'd been distracted. "Then how are your scientists going to help us? We were led to believe they could heal the Earth."

Cilia nodded. "We can take what's damaged or polluted and restore it in many cases. Certainly enough to restore the most fertile lands of your planet. But they can't make an arid desert something it never was. They can't breathe life into something that wasn't meant to be."

"I see."

It made sense, she supposed, and for the first time she found herself curious about the planet that would be her new home. She'd never liked the desert, but if there were gardens like this she'd learn to adjust.

They wandered the paths, Cilia asking questions about Laney and her life, and pointing out various plants often listing their medicinal qualities. When they came to a clearing, Cilia pulled her to a stop and nodded to the opposite side with a small smile. Laney searched out the shadows and spotted two warriors leaning against a tree.

"I thought men didn't come here. What are they doing?"

"Watching over the next generation, I suspect." She pointed to two very pregnant women sitting on the edge of a pool and laughing together.

Laney bit back the snort of disbelief that hovered on her lips as Cilia linked their arms and stepped onto a side path.

"I know it probably seems very strange to you. As strange as your ways seem to us."

That was certainly true. She was well past the age of needing a babysitter. She resisted the urge to rest a palm over her belly. If she was pregnant she just knew, Alrik would be unbearably overprotective.

"You'll find Delroi women doing most of the same jobs as women on Earth do. In most of the same positions of power. With the exception of the military, of course."

"Of course," Laney agreed dryly. The one thing she knew how to do.

"The biggest difference in our cultures seems to be our men."

Cilia laughed and Laney didn't fight the need to join her, though her laughter was more nerves than mirth. The men were definitely different. Not only was their race just bigger, but they seemed so dour. Every time she saw one of them, he was stern-faced and cold-countenanced. Even Alrik's smiles were rare and in private.

"They're possessive and autocratic, but completely devoted."

"What good is devoted when it comes with a gilded cage? When I'm losing all my independence? My ... purpose?" she asked bitterly.

"Alrik didn't tell you anything, did he?" she asked disapprovingly.

Laney arched her eyebrows. He had left out a lot, but had seemed pretty clear on his expectations.

"We have a job in mind for you. Something I would imagine a good strategist should find interesting and fulfilling."

Curious, she stopped and studied Cilia a minute before asking, trying to gage her seriousness. "What?"

"A diplomatic sort of position. Someone who can coordinate between our people, run interference, so to speak."

Laney blinked, considering the possibilities of such a position. It didn't sound like a bullshit, make-the-Earth-girl happy kind of job. It sounded like a retirement opportunity, the kind of thing she probably would have found herself doing on Earth in a few years if the Delroi hadn't shown up.

Cilia stopped walking and Laney saw they were back at the clearing with the lift about fifty yards away. She felt Alrik before she saw him, lifting her gaze to clash with his. Beside her Cilia snorted.

"See what I mean? Possessive." She smiled at Alrik and continued. "He was always my favorite. He's a good man. You should give him a chance to prove that."

With that parting shot, Cilia returned to the depths of the garden, leaving Laney to face the challenge of her future alone.

#  Eighteen

Alrik was furious when he sought her out, but when he saw Laney with his aunt his body did what it predictably did in her presence.

She plotted against them. He'd finally read Barak's report, knew she'd had a meeting with one of the other Earth hostages about continuing the war and hadn't mentioned any of it to him. The betrayal hurt worse than he would have believed possible before he met her, before he had bound her to him.

He remained on the lift, gripping the rail as she sauntered towards him. If it had been a more pliable material, his fingers would have gouged grooves into it. He ruthlessly repressed his lust and concentrated on his anger.

He tried to force some objectivity into his observation of her. Saunter was not the right word. It implied she intentionally flaunted her femininity, and that couldn't be farther from the truth. No, she approached with her back straight, her stride brisk. All professional soldier, and yet that wasn't what he saw at all.

He saw a gentle sway of hips, a faint welcoming smile on her lips, the gleam of fire and intelligence in her eyes. He saw a woman more alluring than the brightest star. And it was all a lie. Well maybe not a lie exactly, but none of it was meant for him. When she finally reached him and stopped, he saw uncertainty briefly flash across her face and realized she wasn't aware of her appeal at all. And he realized with a force that nearly brought him to his knees that he wanted her for a lot more than the succor of her body or the heirs she would give him.

His anger disappeared as if it had never been and for the first time since he'd begun this enterprise he began to doubt.

Since he'd first seen her, he'd been determined to own her, possess her. He'd sought her compliance with a single-minded determination that virtually guaranteed her non-cooperation. Was it any wonder she was involved in a conspiracy? Barak's report shouldn't have caught him by surprise.

She was a soldier, a warrior worthy of the name. The Butcher of Roses. He'd had moments of misgivings about her, but he hadn't really allowed himself to think of her that way. He'd let his Delroi prejudice against women going to war color his judgment. He'd assumed she fought because she had no choice, because the male half of her species was so depleted. He'd also assumed that while she would not welcome a lesser role, she would quickly adjust to one.

She came to a stop before him. Tilting her head to one side she frowned, but she didn't reach out and didn't come closer. What would he have to do to solicit her comfort?

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He swung the gate open on the lift and motioned her forward. She joined him and he pushed the button to take them down.

"How did your meeting with Colonel Eldridge go the night before last?"

She pressed her lips together and shrugged one shoulder. "I wouldn't call it a meeting."

He turned to fully face her, resisted the urge to reach out and yank her to him.

"There isn't a way out of this. I won't let you go."

Brilliant, idiot. Keep pushing her like that and she'll wield the knife against you herself. Or die trying if the little I know of her is true.

He struggled to instill calm and reason into his racing heart. He wasn't entirely stupid. Everything they were trying to accomplish here depended on Laney. His error had been in assuming she'd meekly fall into line.

Both her eyebrows lifted together and she spoke softly but he heard the dissatisfaction in her voice. "You can force my compliance, just as you can enforce this treaty."

Her words were a shock. The more so when he realized he didn't want her forced into anything. Something of what he was thinking must have been evident on his countenance. She pressed her lips together again, crossed her arms over her chest, and shook her head.

"I saw your armada, Alrik. My people may not have seen it yet, but I know what that means for us. That doesn't mean any of us will be happy about it. It doesn't mean you won't still have opposition. I meant what I said that first night. I can't deny the physical connection between us, but my heart and mind are mine. And always will be if you insist on casting me in a submissive—not to mention uninformed—role. I'm used to being part of events and decisions. If you continue on this course I'll always feel like a captive. Like a spoil of war. Is that really what you want?"

It was more words than she'd ever shared with him and several things were obvious. Cilia had filled her in on her future job, he'd bet. The not so subtle reminder of having nothing to do was a dead giveaway. He'd have to speak with Barak and Daggar about that.

The curious and fascinating bomb was that she expected to accept defeat without ever truly surrendering. She'd mentioned their first night—when she'd claimed she'd never spend her life with a barbarian—but she'd also acknowledged the physical connection between them. It was a start, wasn't it? His anger was gone. His suspicion of her was gone. She took a deep breath, but before she could go on he pulled her closer and laid a finger over her lips.

"I know. All I ask is that you let the rest come with time," he whispered.

Shock widened her eyes, and he realized he hadn't treated her with anything like tenderness before, not outside of bed. It wasn't the side of a warrior anyone ever saw, but he couldn't deny he was feeling it. It made him uncomfortable. Soft feelings had no place in a warrior's heart. Did they?

Her question came back to him. Was that what he really wanted from her? A warm and willing body and nothing else? She clearly thought so. He'd thought so not too long ago.

For the first time in years, he struggled to remember his parents. He'd been four when they died. His mind retained only images after more than thirty years. A proud, stern-faced father. A soft, gentle mother. But they were like stills, a frozen moment in time. Surely there had been more to them, more to their bond than just physical lust and shared children. What had his father felt? What could a warrior allow himself to feel for his der'lan without weakening himself?

"Now what?"

She was scowling up at him, and standing next to her, he was reminded of how small she was, how fragile she appeared.

"I was just thinking of my parents."

The lift stopped and he led her down the corridor. He was surprised when she spoke. Hesitating, but it was a personal question all the same.

"Are they back on your planet?"

"Dead. Many years now."

And finally, she reached out to him. She gripped his forearm and dug in her heels until he stopped alongside her.

"I didn't know. I thought your mother at least..."

He shook his head, swallowing past the unwelcome lump of emotion in his throat, and started walking again. She couldn't keep pace and he slowed for her to catch up.

"So I should add your parents to the off limits column?"

He stopped. Scowled down at her. "What?"

She shrugged, but met his gaze with a hard one of her own. He felt a spike of pride. She wasn't intimidated by him at all.

"You aren't much of a talker and never about anything important, right? Your parents. My role here. You know, outside of your bed?"

He heaved a sigh. What else could he do? Try to explain? Before he knew he was doing it, the words were tumbling from his mouth. "I'm a Delroi warrior. Younger brother of the Overchief and Commander of all our Armies. People don't ask me questions unless it is to clarify an order and I only share personal information with my brother."

She resumed walking and stayed silent for several moments, obviously thinking it over.

"And you expect me to be like everyone else? Shut out of your life like one of your subordinates? Some kind of concubine or mistress?"

He didn't answer. He didn't know how to respond, still wasn't sure exactly what he wanted.

She sighed then murmured as she kept pace at his side. "I don't think I can live like that."

They reached the end of the corridor and he turned right. She moved alongside him without hesitation as if she'd known all along they were headed towards the shuttle bay.

One of the ships was waiting for them. Daggar and some of the household guard were standing around, joking and laughing, probably at some human's expense. Laney's face stayed expressionless but he saw her eyes brighten, saw the question flash over her face. She wondered what was going on. Before she could approach the small vessel, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the shadows. Everyone knew they'd arrived. They'd been seen, but it afforded a small measure of privacy at least. Not that he cared. It was a small courtesy for her. He cornered her against the wall. Shielded her with his body.

"Just give it and me some time, Sergeant Major."

No longer able to resist, he kissed her. Slowly, carefully. Trying to inject the fragile hope he felt, the emotion he was afraid to feel and didn't know how to show. He kept it as gentle as he could, but he was undone. She moaned, that low sweet sound she made deep in her throat, and ground her pelvis against him. It was impossible not to give into the irresistible temptation that was Laney Bradford. Claim what was his. The Earth Sergeant Major. The Butcher of Roses. His der'lan.

#  Nineteen

Barak's contact was late. That wasn't unusual in and of itself, except his gut was churning and his instinct was screaming. Trouble was coming and he was in no way prepared. He didn't even know what it was.

The human had requested this meeting through a very complex set of arrangements. He'd used her before. He had no idea what her name was or what she looked like—she always met him hidden under a heavy hood. He knew she was a trap though. A woman the enemy forces had put into play to leak false information. Of course, sometimes the information was correct. It wasn't like he'd trust a traitor who was always wrong, would he?

But she was late and he knew something was very, very wrong. Maybe it was her. Maybe she was late because she'd crossed the wrong person on her side of the fence. But he didn't think so. He thought the uneasy feeling he had stemmed from the fact Daggar and Alrik were both planet-side and practically undefended. Both were with another woman, another human soldier who'd earned a very dangerous reputation for herself and whose allegiance was still uncertain.

From where he was hidden in a desert rock outcropping, he observed the storm of dust that heralded the approach of a small dune buggy. The vehicle pulled right up, a few feet away, and stopped. The engine turned off. The woman didn't step out. She was cloaked and hooded as always, and he came out of the shadows. Then she surprised him. These Earth women were always full of surprises, weren't they?

"I'm Kendall, and Laney Bradford is one of my best friends."

She lifted her head and threw the hood back from her face. He couldn't say why it was that he couldn't pull his gaze away. She was striking. Challenging and alluring. But not necessarily pretty. It was irritating this pull the women of Earth seemed to have gained over him. This one was not his anymore than the woman she claimed was her friend, but he found himself fascinated by both.

He stepped out into the sand. "Is she? And what of it?"

The woman, Kendall, cocked her head to one side and gave him a cold smile. "I was told you are a patriot. That you could be trusted to protect your leaders. At any cost. And right now Laney is somehow involved with them, right? Is this true?"

"I'm sworn to the house of Torfa. I'll protect them with all I am." He avoided the question of Sergeant Major Laney Bradford.

She blinked, but that was the only reaction that she showed. "Fair enough. I guess that will have to do."

She stepped out of her vehicle and the robe billowed around her in the heavy desert wind. She was wearing the standard military uniform under it but he caught a glimpse of their medical symbol on her collar. What the fuck? Their spy was a healer? She tugged the edges together before he could get anything more than a glimpse. She walked forward and stopped before him. He wanted to call her smile sly or devious, but it wasn't. It was sweet and curious and several things a man like him had no right to wish for.

"My people vilify yours, you know. But I'm betting we aren't that very different. I'm a doctor." She shrugged. "Human nature is what it is and it doesn't change much from man to man."

He didn't answer. How could he? If she was going to break them down to the basest elements, the basest desires, he was inclined to agree with her. She arched an eyebrow when he didn't answer.

"That being the case, I'm betting you have as many people opposed to this peace as we do. Yes?"

Reluctantly, he nodded his agreement.

"I'm not a spy, you understand? I think we can finally be all out in the open here." This time her smile was friendly and open. "You and I both know what role I used to, um, occasionally serve for the Sergeant Major."

She turned serious. "Anyway. I don't really know what's going on. I can't reach her. If I could, I would never have contacted you. I do know she's one of the hostages and I heard a rumor she's a target. I'm not sure from whom."

She paused, her frustration clear on her face. "This isn't what I do. I don't know how to find the information we need, but I know my Sergeant Major, my friend, is in trouble."

He couldn't say why he believed her, but he did. "What have you heard?"

Kendall sighed, but it was clearly a sound of exasperation. "I wish I knew. I know, you're thinking that's crazy and I don't blame you. I'm not sure what I heard. Or when. But it was recently and it was something I either blew off or it didn't register. Except now, whatever it was, it's started to nag at my unconscious, ya know? It's like I know I know something, but I have no idea what it is."

He nodded. He knew exactly what she was trying to say and how she felt. The same nagging feeling had been with him for days.

"Can you get in touch with her?"

How did he answer that without inviting a whole lot more questions? No, but I might be able to reach her der'lan? They hadn't exactly been forthcoming with the real reason for their coming to Earth so that was not an option.

"I might be able to get in touch with the people she's with."

She narrowed her eyes and studied him. He suddenly understood exactly how a bug under the microscope felt.

"Is she at the demonstration?"

It was Barak's turn to narrow his eyes, and he stood taller, felt the veneer of civilization he tried to wear slip a little. Because in reality he was a cold man. A man driven to duty and honor who had to force himself to blend in, to sometimes portray a general easiness that was very far from his reality. She shrank back from the change in him.

"How do you know about that?"

His tone snapped some of the pride back into her spine. He couldn't help but admire that and hoped if she did have a der'lan among his people it was a warrior worthy of her.

"I stood outside my post commander's door today and eavesdropped on a conference call with Colonel Eldridge."

He scowled and almost took her to task over such a foolish risk, before reminding himself she wasn't his to worry about and wasn't under the protection of anyone who was. Even if he'd been so inclined, he had bigger concerns. None of the hostages were supposed to have contact with Earth, other than the daily conferences on board ship. Plus Eldridge shouldn't have been able to participate in any kind of call since there was no meeting on board today.

His suspicious mind immediately turned to other possibilities. There weren't many. The Earth soldier could have smuggled the technology on board to communicate with his people or bribed someone on their ship. Or much worse, he had not had to bribe anyone at all. Kendall was right when she suggested not all of the Delroi were happy with the way events were unfolding. Some preferred a less civilized approach.

He spun around and started through the rocks, calculating how long it would take him to reach the demonstration site with his hovercraft. It was faster than the wheeled Earth vehicles over this rough terrain, but it would still take four, maybe three hours if he pushed.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

He turned to see the doctor following him and held up a hand to stop her.

"To see my Lord. I'll carry your message."

"Laney's in trouble, isn't she? I'm coming with you."

"No." Hell no. Kendall opened her mouth and he just knew it was to argue. These Earth women. Fascinating and infuriating at the same time. "You said yourself, you're not a spy. You're a healer. I don't know what I'm going into but I won't take a woman along."

She arched an eyebrow, then shook her head with a half smile on her lips. "You Delroi have a lot to learn about women. At least the women here on Earth."

Before he could answer that the last thing he wanted was to learn more about one of these oddly fierce, very independent Earth women, she turned away. He couldn't seem to stop himself from following her to her vehicle. She climbed inside and started the engine.

"You'll tell her to get in touch with me? Immediately? There are ... other avenues I can pursue if you don't come through. Other people I can contact."

He admired her loyalty and determination. It was obvious she cared deeply for her friend. He felt his first real smile for months.

"I will."

Barak watched until she was out of sight before returning to his own craft and making his way to the demonstration site, where he hoped he'd find his Commander and Overchief fine and that his imagination nothing but overactive.

#  Twenty

Laney was silent for the shuttle ride down to the planet. There were things she knew she should ask. Like, what the hell are we doing? But her brain was too addled from that kiss. Her breasts were uncomfortably swollen. Her pussy was too wet and hot. And her heart. She didn't even want to ponder what was happening to her heart.

She'd been just fine. Resigned to maybe having a satisfying political career as a diplomat and a hot sex life. Determined to keep any emotion out of it that surely would never be returned. Then he had to go act all vulnerable and shit.

Except she was damned sure it wasn't an act. The flash of pain and remembrance and love on his face and in his eyes when he mentioned his parents had not been imagined or faked. He was a man uncomfortable, maybe even scared, of emotion. He'd never bother to contrive it.

She leaned her head back against the cold metal of the shuttle's hull and closed her eyes. Normally a move she would never have indulged in, and a show of weakness, but to hell with it. Let them assume she was just tired. She sure as hell hadn't been sleeping much.

She'd been so sure she could do this. Keep her heart out of it. What could be worse than loving someone who couldn't love you back? And God, wasn't she screwed then? If she loved him. Did she? She bit her bottom lip hard enough to draw a bead of blood. She couldn't; she didn't know him.

"Are you okay?"

She opened her eyes and rolled her head against the bulkhead, turning to meet Daggar's gaze without straightening from a pose she knew must appear weary to any onlookers. She didn't know when he'd sat next to her but he looked concerned. It was such an odd expression to see on his face. He'd only been withdrawn and severe in public before. More open but with a heavy dose of sarcasm in private with his brother. Other emotions seemed so out of character. She frowned. Hadn't she just been thinking along similar lines at least about Alrik?

"I'm fine." She closed her eyes again unwilling to see his scrutiny. It was curious how he'd hesitated over okay. Which reminded her. "How is it you speak our language so well?"

She heard the smile in his voice. "We studied."

"Ah. I see."

They fell silent. It wasn't comfortable. She opened her eyes and stared at the far wall. Wondered if she was expected to make small talk. What the hell? Might as well give it a shot. She looked at him.

"So where are we going?"

Daggar looked surprised and frowned at Alrik, who was sitting several seats away speaking with his men. "He didn't tell you?"

She shrugged. Tried to avoid the bitterness welling in her throat. "He doesn't tell me anything."

"Perhaps he's not sure if he can trust you." It was a softly spoken jab, but there nevertheless.

"Of course, you can't. Not any more than I can trust y'all."

He shook his head. "I'm not speaking of trust between Delroi and Earth. I meant trust between Alrik and Laney."

She turned to meet his gaze. "The two aren't so easily separated."

He shrugged before standing. "I think you know that's not true, Sergeant Major."

He walked away and she muttered under her breath, "Maybe for anyone else, but it is my truth."

And weren't they all screwed then?

She scowled at Alrik who looked up just at the right moment to catch it. She felt him probe at her mind—she was getting the hang of this—and imagined a wall, imagined forcing him out of her head. He cocked an eyebrow and she realized she'd succeeded. There was no more pressure, but she didn't feel any better. She just felt alone.

She didn't have time to wonder where the empty feeling came from because the shuttle shuddered a little as it braked, and within seconds they were landing. The door lowered and the three warriors Alrik had been speaking to disembarked while he waited for her. There was nothing in his eyes of what had passed between them earlier. His face was impassive as ever, but he took her hand when she stopped at his side and lightly traced the curve of her face with his other hand. She leaned into the unexpected gentleness, savoring his touch for just a second before they walked forward. He didn't release her when they stepped into the bright sun and strode down the ramp.

Neither spoke. It was stupid, this silence. What did she hope to gain? Sulky games were not her style and she knew she didn't stand a chance in hell of changing him. She sucked in her breath. The situation. Not him. She didn't care anything for what he thought. She refused to allow him to be any more important to her than she was to him. With that thought firmly in mind and reminding herself she was a Sergeant Major with a reputation to protect if nothing else, she looked around the area they'd landed in.

There was a rocky incline on three sides of the craft. Not quite steep enough to be considered a cliff, but sharp enough to make it very difficult to climb. Before them was a large earth berm. The clear area was not large though, and amazed, she turned to see the ship with mere inches to spare on its sides.

"Talented pilot," she muttered.

One side of Alrik's mouth twisted up. Only half a smile but the bottom of her stomach dropped to her feet seeing it. "My best."

She struggled to contain her physical reaction to him, the rising tide of lust in her veins, but he made it impossible. She felt his response to hers and they seemed to amplify each other, building and growing into something that couldn't be denied. Suddenly desperate for someplace at least semi-private she looked around again, cursing herself for being ten kinds of fool. Hadn't she said she wasn't doing this again? And why look? The ship was right there.

She grabbed his hand and stepped towards the still lowered ramp and then the damnedest thing happened. He slammed up a shield between them. She still felt an overwhelming lust but it was no longer hers and his mingled and she was able to take a steady breath. Well, steadier. He lifted her hand and nibbled the back of her knuckles. Fire licked through her, almost undoing the effectiveness of the shield. She wondered how long he could keep it up?

"Now's not the time. Keep it for later," he said it softly, calmly, as if he didn't have a care in the world, but his eyes were hot and promising.

Her sex clenched in response but she took a deep breath, determined to control this ... this thing that burned in her. After a moment she thought she'd regained enough control to carry on.

"What are we doing here? Where's everyone else?"

This time he did smile, but it was so cold she took a step away from him. She couldn't retreat far with her fingers still in his grip though.

"We thought a demonstration might be in order. The others are behind a wall on the other side of this valley."

She was almost afraid to ask and her voice was not as sure or steady as she'd wish for. "What kind of demonstration?"

He walked along the cliff wall to a place where steps had been cut into the earth and led the way up. On top she looked out over a small green valley. It was a pretty little place with a blue stream meandering its way through it. It wasn't far from her home base and she'd spent many afternoons there. She felt Alrik's gaze on her profile as she looked at it.

"Did you think your people are the only ones who've built world destroyers?"

She hadn't but she was still horrified. Enraged and terrified at the same time. Was this for her defiance? Or something else? One thing she knew for sure. They didn't have enough good land left to allow any to be destroyed. And if it was because of her, because of her actions or lack thereof or reticence she'd never forgive herself. She grabbed his forearm and turned her body into his, close but not quite touching.

"This isn't necessary, Alrik. I've seen your ships, the size of your forces. I'll ... cooperate."

He didn't speak for several minutes and just stared at her. His expression was unreadable.

"How far would you go to protect your people, Sergeant Major?"

The words were a blow, like taking a punch in the gut. The shield he'd erected had slipped a little. She experienced his anger and disappointment and had no idea how to respond. She straightened her shoulders.

"As far as necessary for the people I love." When he didn't respond, she searched desperately for whatever it was he wanted to hear. "I'm not sure what you expect of me exactly, but I'll do my best to provide it."

She was careful to keep any bitterness she felt from her voice. His expression softened a little.

"It's more for them than you, Laney." He jerked his head to indicate the other Alliance members presumably watching from the other side of the valley. "And not just to show the force of our weapons. Our power. But also how we can reverse it."

She remembered Cilia's words earlier in the gardens, that lush green place that seemed so at odds with the males of these people.

"You can fix the damage you propose to do here?"

"Yes."

"Why?" She thought she knew, but she wanted to hear it.

"Your people don't trust us. That we aren't here to occupy and subject you. That we bring something other than war. You don't trust us."

"You shouldn't go so far to earn one woman's trust," she whispered.

This time she knew she wasn't imagining the emotion she saw, burning behind the lust in his eyes. He lifted his hand to her face. Brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

"There are many reasons to do so."

Before she could protest or sort out her own confusion—God she was sick of never knowing her own mind with Alrik—one of his warriors approached. He smartly saluted, his right fist thumping his chest over his heart.

"They're ready to begin, General."

"Good."

Alrik set a hand on Laney's lower back, standing close to her side like a tall, silent sentinel. She didn't protest the proprietary move even after noticing the others had gathered around. The other Delroi gathered in the small area didn't bother to hide their curiosity while they watched her with Alrik. She had a sudden image of them taking silent notes and passing them around. How to deal with Earth women. She nearly laughed aloud.

Biting her tongue, she accepted a pair of goggles from Alrik with a soft thank you. It was a strange new reality she found herself in when she was thanking her enemy for taking safety precautions, marrying her enemy to save Earth and wishing it was more than simply that.

While she'd been on top of the berm with Alrik, the others had erected a small observation platform. She followed him up the short flight of stairs. The deck appeared to be simple wood and it was fronted by what looked like a wall of glass, but she suspected was so much more. She reached out to touch it. The pads of her fingertips connected with the smooth cool surface and she cocked an eyebrow at Alrik, who'd moved to stand beside her.

"Aluminum glass," he answered her unvoiced question.

She repressed a sigh. How much more advanced would her people's technology be if they hadn't spent much of the last one hundred years trying to annihilate each other? All the scheming and plotting and fighting she'd done over her lifetime to bring them together, was it all for nothing now that the Delroi had invaded?

Alrik waved a hand in front of her face and she blinked.

"Where did you go?" There was the tiniest thread of curiosity in his voice.

She shook her head. "Nowhere. Thinking about things past."

Her answer annoyed him and this time he didn't bother to hide his feelings when he snapped back. "Well, stay in the present. We're about to begin."

With his words a ship came into sight, falling out of the sky and hovering over the center of the valley. He handed her field glasses and she trained them on the vessel, watched as a door slid open in its belly. A bright red light erupted and she jerked her head around, closing and shielding her eyes. She heard the ship's engines roar and knew it was lifting. When she turned back around, the transport was high overhead and the fertile green valley had been transformed to the thing of her nightmares, scorched and barren of life. Gasping, she stepped forward and set both palms flat against the clear wall. She squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds before forcing herself to look again. The thing she'd feared several days ago, the thing she'd surrendered to avoid, had happened anyway. And from someone she was beginning to trust.

Could he fix it? Heal it? Maybe. But his willingness to use such a weapon, even as a demonstration that could be repaired, said something about him and his people didn't it? She didn't get to pursue that line of thinking. A rocket was launched from the surrounding hills. It hit the shuttle dead on and the craft exploded in a ball of fire crashing to the earth below. Alrik cursed in his own language and dragged her down the platform's stairs as small arms fire finally registered in her brain. They were being attacked.

Instinct made her reach for the sidearm normally strapped to her thigh and she added her own curses when her hand came away empty. She'd been unarmed for days, but hadn't so keenly felt the loss until now. Crouched low, they ran for the safety of the shuttle. Unfortunately they were on the wrong side. To get to the door they would have to leave cover to go around the front or back of the ship. There wasn't enough room to crawl under it, which would have been a fine option in her opinion.

Every time one of the warriors tried to step around the hull or stern, gunfire answered his appearance and she heard gunshots from a distance, presumably the other group on the opposite side of the valley. Her hand kept straying to her thigh and finally in irritation she snarled.

"I'd feel a hell of a lot better if I had a weapon."

#  Twenty-one

Alrik and Daggar looked at each other before turning to her. Slowly Daggar pulled one of the guns from his side and handed it to her butt first. He smiled a little as he handed it over, but it didn't quite reach his eyes and he looked a little green. She reached for the weapon as reluctantly as he handed it over, wondering if it was some kind of trick. It was clear neither of them liked the idea of her being armed.

Well. Life was a bitch. And then you died. Unless you were better armed and trained or sometimes just plain luckier than your enemy. As soon as her fingers closed over the weapon, she felt ten times better, felt her old confident, controlled and capable self. She dragged in a long breath of relief and homecoming. It was good to return to a role she knew and understood. She grinned and watched her future husband and brother-in-law shrink back a little. They'd better get used to it. She wasn't going unarmed again.

Gripping the butt of the pistol in one hand, she pushed herself up off the ground with the other so that she was squatting, sitting on her heels with her back braced against the shuttle. Their side of the valley had gone silent, but there was still gunfire in the distance. She cocked her head to one side and listened.

"That's not ours."

She sat between Alrik and Daggar and felt their scowls on her face without having to focus on them. Must be getting used to them.

"Listen. Those aren't Earth weapons. They're Delroi."

"I don't hear anything," Daggar replied.

She tried to describe the difference. "Your automatic fire is faster and after a burst there's a kind of hissing sound. Those aren't Alliance guns."

Gazes intent, they both turned towards the direction of the other firefight and listened. Alrik reached over, ran his fingers up the inside of her arm. She shivered at his touch, but when she shifted to snap at him she noticed the look of concentration on his face and bit her tongue. He nodded.

"She's right. I've never noticed before."

She grinned, her mood suddenly buoyant. She'd relish a good fight and who better to provide it for her than the Delroi who'd put her in this position in the first place? The only thing that marred her good humor was the men at her side. Alrik wore a scowling, thoughtful expression and Daggar's face had gone darkly fierce, his countenance like a black thundercloud. Their expressions seemed too severe a reaction to a little firefight. She frowned. Such downers the both of them.

"What?"

Daggar gave her look full of is this woman dim or just crazy? "My own people are firing at us."

She widened her eyes and feigned a look of surprise. "Wow. Really? That would mean this peace isn't as welcome by your side as much as you'd like us to believe, wouldn't it?"

Daggar opened his mouth for a rebuttal, but Alrik interrupted. "We don't have time for this. Listen. Movement in the hills around us."

Daggar snapped his mouth shut and she strained her ears to listen for what Alrik heard. There wasn't much. Whoever the unseen enemy was, they were good. There was a soft grunt, an occasional shifting of sand that was too measured to be natural.

"How many?" she murmured, guessing by the calculating look on Alrik's face he had a much better estimate than she. He shook his head slightly.

"Fifteen? No way to know for sure."

"They're as good as my scouts, whoever they are."

"From the Southern clans probably." He exchanged a look with Daggar. "Don't even entertain the thought, brother."

She hated being left out. "What? What thought?"

"Barak is from the Southern tribes," Alrik answered. She got the impression he did so without considering who it was he spoke to. The statement seemed full of meaning she didn't have the knowledge to translate and she found she had to force herself to concentrate—Alrik was still touching her. Light, feathery strokes that made it increasingly difficult to focus. She tried to pull away, but he just grabbed her hand and laced his fingers through hers.

"Barak? Isn't he the guy with the tattoos on his face?"

"Yes. My spymaster."

"Ah. And are you sure he's on our side?"

Alrik looked down at her, even in a crouch he towered over her, and smiled. "Have you decided you're on our side? One of us?"

His words froze her in place for a moment, but then her stomach spasmed and she pulled her hand free to lay a palm flat over her belly. Earlier words came back to her, a previous suggestion, and she knew with the same certainty that had led her to victory in many battles that he was right.

She was pregnant.

She closed her eyes. Would she ever be allowed to raise an alien child on Earth? She didn't think so; she'd be forced into hiding. Peace was one thing, but fraternization with the enemy by someone of her rank—literally sleeping with the enemy—was something else entirely. If she wanted her child to live, she would have to choose a side and the choice was obvious. Alrik was more powerful among his people than she was with hers. Opening her eyes, she followed his gaze. He'd noted her reaction, saw her hand still pressed over her stomach in that age-old protective instinct, and covered it with his.

"I am with you. But you should not view that as some kind of capitulation. I cannot change what I am."

"Will not," Daggar muttered but Alrik smiled again. The heat that burned between them was back in his eyes along with something else. Some of that emotion she'd seen him so desperately trying to deny earlier. He removed the hand covering hers and lifted her hand from her stomach to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her palm.

"I'm beginning to discover that's not at all what I want," he said softly.

She didn't think she believed him, but her voice failed her. Her belly somersaulted and she squeezed her eyes shut. It was impossible to deny the heat coursing through her, but she had to find a way to delay it, confine it. Now was not the time. Not the place. She opened her eyes and forced her voice to be brisk.

"So what of Barak?" She asked the question of Daggar instead of Alrik. He'd already proven he'd defend his spymaster no matter the circumstances. It had nothing to do with the carnal look she knew still lingered in his eyes. She cringed inwardly at the denial. Yeah right.

Daggar, obviously unaware of her internal debate, gave a slight shake of his head. "I've no reason to distrust Barak. He's served us well."

"But?"

"The tribes of the Southern Ranges have always been ... unpredictable. Independent and headstrong. They do not accept the leadership of others easily."

She narrowed her eyes. There was a story here that was not forthcoming. "And how long have they been forced to accept yours?"

Alrik laughed, a short barking sound. "Generations. Our great-grandfather formed the council with the healers and artists. Then he began taking control of all the warrior clans. The fight for the South was predictably bloody. Our grandfather completed that task."

The three warriors with them drew close enough to hear.

"It is not the peace or our reason for being here that they object to, Laney," Daggar said softly. "It is the rule of the Torfa family. Our family. My rule. They will undermine it where they can. If Alrik and I died, there would be no heir and, there would be a foolish bloodthirsty rush to seize the office of Overchief."

But there was an heir. She was certain of it. And the fact that she carried the Torfa heir made the situation all the more dangerous and success imperative. If something—God forbid—were to happen to Alrik and Daggar what would become of her and her child? She would find no succor on Earth. She looked around and met the gazes of the warriors with them. The proud stern-faced men she'd seen so often in the past few days but couldn't name.

There was a difference between picking a side and taking a side she realized. She looked at Daggar and then Alrik.

"But there is an heir. The question is: Who will protect him if something happens to his father and uncle?"

She knew what she was soliciting and looked to the warrior, the one who'd been with her the most over the past few days, who seemed to be the most senior. Was she asking too much? He banged one fist over his heart and bowed his head briefly.

"As long as a Torfa heir lives, we will protect him, my lady."

"And if it's a girl?"

He smiled. "She will be doubly protected, Lady Torfa."

"Jaxon is one of my captains that has a der'lan." Alrik's amusement was obvious. "And one of the few who has a daughter."

She smiled with her own rare sense of mirth. "I doubt any daughter of mine will ever need much protecting."

Jaxon snorted and she was pleased to see the suspicion she'd once seen in his eyes had been replaced by something that was almost respect. "Perhaps not, but she will have it regardless."

"Very well, then." She turned her gaze to the area beyond this small group of men and her mind to getting them free. She directed her question at Alrik. "Fifteen you think?"

"Or thereabouts. What are you thinking?"

She shrugged. "I'm thinking we concentrate enough fire on one end here to allow a sniper to escape out the back."

Alrik and Daggar turned on her at once, eyes narrowed and cold.

"And who would you suggest for that job?" Alrik asked.

She shrugged. Grinned. "Well, I was a sniper before I got promoted to such a lofty position I don't actually work anymore."

"No," came a chorus of responses and she laughed, feeling better than she'd felt in days.

"I'm smaller and faster and probably a better shot than all of you."

"My lady," Jaxon said. "You carry the heir of Torfa."

She cocked an eyebrow. "So? I have as much interest in my survival as you do."

"No Laney," Alrik said. "You know we won't take that risk."

"Oh, please. I'm our best shot."

He grabbed her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. "I will not risk our child. You shouldn't either."

She blinked. Damn. She'd been thinking about being pregnant, but not how her actions could put the baby at risk. Would she have to factor that into every move she made in the future? Maybe, but it didn't change anything now. She shook her head.

"Still has to be done, honey," she murmured so softly she doubted anyone heard.

"Not by you," he answered just as softly.

So Alrik heard at least. She looked around the small group, hoping her eyes were cold and determined enough to convince them. She couldn't explain why, but knew it had to be her that went. Maybe there was one way. Her gaze rested on Jaxon.

"What do your people call me?"

He blinked, surprised at the question.

"Come on, Jaxon. What do y'all call me?"

"The Butcher of Roses," he answered softly but clearly reluctant.

"And am I hated for Roses?"

Alrik had been busy avoiding looking at her, but jerked his head up at the question. "Laney, don't," he warned.

Her smile was probably sad. The course seemed clear to her, but though they may eventually agree they'd never approve.

"The way I see it, you have several problems." She ticked them off on her fingers as she listed them off. "The discontent among your people. Among mine. The reality of who I am. Not only as someone feared and hated by your people, but the kind of woman I am. I will never be weak and docile or submissive."

He started to respond, but she held her hand up to forestall him.

"There's something else to consider. The appearance of weakness. If you insist on protecting me, if you insist on preventing me from acting to protect myself and mine, you make me look weaker to your enemies and that's deadly for all of us."

She paused for a deep breath and tried to order her thoughts, but in the end it was unnecessary. Daggar spoke before she got the chance.

"She's right." Alrik glared at them both, but his brother continued softly with an edge of steel underlying his voice. He met everyone's gaze in turn as he did, finally stopping and staying on her. It was clear this was the Overchief speaking. Not Alrik's brother. Not her soon to be brother-in-law. She felt a tremor that had nothing to do with Alrik hovering next to her. Daggar would make a formidable foe. And an equally valuable friend, the strategist within her that evaluated chances whispered. The more so if he was willing to use whatever resources were at his disposal despite it going so far against the grain, so opposed to his instinctive need to protect women. She saw that and so much more in his gaze. Suddenly understood exactly why he was the Overchief and how he held it. "She is the Butcher of Roses. Do any of us really believe she can't do this thing?"

Silence fell over the group and she turned to Alrik. "I can do this. I best of all of us here."

Eventually he nodded and she saw comprehension light his eyes as he finally understood why she had to do this. For so many reasons. Because it was who and what she was. To prove to him, to all of them, that she could and that she'd chosen what side she was on...the Torfa side. To demonstrate that to all of their enemies, be they from Delroi or Earth. And to show everyone her change in social status and marital state hadn't altered her. She'd defend herself and those she loved against all comers. She would not be a victim. She hadn't been weakened. She glanced at Alrik. Perhaps she'd even been strengthened. He didn't give her the chance to say anything else, pulling her into his arms for a kiss that curled her toes.

#  Twenty-two

Things got off to a good start, but she should have known better than to hope that would last. The shuttle pilot was exceptional. Alrik was right about that. He'd landed in a long narrow space with mere feet to spare on each side of the long craft. He'd also positioned it so that the back would have scraped the rocky incline behind it had he been off only a few inches. A very narrow space existed there, barely wide enough for a small thin woman to squeeze through. By landing in such a way, he'd ensured there was a reasonably big clearing at the head of the shuttle.

There were snipers in front of them and on one flank of the shuttle. The other side was a low earthen wall that provided no cover and what was now a vast barren valley. But the rocky incline behind them appeared to be uncovered. None of the shooting came from that direction, at least. She couldn't know for sure until she tried to climb it. It was a gamble, but with their comm down, enemies on two sides, and unable to risk the exposure of the valley where they'd be little more than moving targets, it was the only viable option.

They all agreed the clearing was where they should draw the enemy fire and the best place for the Delroi to attack from, since it provided the only maneuvering room. Plus Laney would have a better chance at climbing up the tricky slope at the rear of the shuttle if they were able to force the unknown snipers to concentrate on one area.

The plan was simple and they put it into action. Two of the warriors and Laney lay down and low crawled into position near the rear of the shuttle, one at her side and one hugging the belly of the ship. They were there to cover her, an order she'd protested but not too much. She knew Alrik wouldn't budge on that small safety measure. The remaining warrior moved into position with Daggar and Alrik at the front of the ship. At Daggar's signal, everyone fired. Automatic and unrelenting shots.

She heard movement above them as the enemy warriors rushed to defend their position on the front of the clearing. When she was reasonably sure the way was clear, she broke cover, crouching down as low as she could and still run. She exhaled a pent-up, relieved breath when she reached the stony wall and no one had taken a shot at her. Behind her she heard screaming and knew Alrik and his men had managed a few lucky shots, but she didn't have time to spare for rejoicing as she hurried to climb free. Alrik was in her mind the whole way—alternately encouraging and scolding whenever she slowed down and tried to see the action below her.

She was almost to the top when a hand reached down and grabbed her wrist. Surprised, she lost the mental connection with Alrik and jerked her gaze up—she'd been too focused on the events below her—and looked into the piercing blue gaze and tattooed face of Barak Trace. He hauled her up and when her knees landed on the packed dirt she rolled, springing to her feet and drawing her weapon as she moved. He faced her a few feet away, his feet braced apart in a fighting stance and his own gun raised.

"Are you here to help?" Laney asked. "Or deter?"

"Depends on who I'm helping."

She smiled, slight and cold, knowing he wouldn't get her reference even as it came to her. "You're either with us or against us."

He shrugged. "Again. It depends on who "us" is."

He was calm and sure, and she couldn't read anything on his face. Alrik trusted him. She decided to gamble.

"I stand on the side of the Torfa heir."

She said it as calmly as she could, back rigid and waiting for a possible attack. She should be nervous, but the truth was she was calm. She'd reached certain conclusions about herself and her shifting world in the last hour. If she survived this day she would no longer simply be Sergeant Major Laney Bradford, though a part of her would always remain so. She would also be Lady Laney Torfa, one of the most powerful women on Delroi. She couldn't say for sure yet, but she thought such a position meant she should face life and death with dignity.

Thankfully, death didn't appear to be on the agenda.

Barak lowered his weapon in slow, smooth increments. She was almost distracted enough by this small victory to miss the flash of movement behind him.

"Roll right," she said harshly keeping her tone low so as not to alert the approaching enemy. Barak moved just in time as she fired at the man who sprang up behind his retreating form. He fell dead at her feet. Barak was at her side in a heartbeat.

"What's going on here? I couldn't reach anyone by comm."

"Did you know about the demonstration?"

He nodded.

"Well, after the first phase, the ship was fired on and destroyed. Then we came under fire and a diversion was created so I could get up here." She reached for the small communicator Alrik had given her and keyed it. "Still dead."

Barak frowned. "They're using a dampener."

She looked at him, taking note of how his expression barely changed, the laugh lines around his eyes just deepening, the blue in his eyes turning a little darker. So this was the Spymaster distressed.

"So it's up to us," she murmured. She raised her voice, used her commander's tone and demanded a situation report. "Sit rep."

He turned to fully face her, his back straightening. His eyes flashed and she recognized his indecision. He was unaccustomed to answering to women but he wasn't sure if she should be the exception. She only cocked an eyebrow while she waited him out. Ninety percent of getting people to follow your lead, she'd found, lay in acting as if they had no choice. Bravado. Pure and simple. She wasn't sure if it worked or if he was humoring her.

"Five down. At least seven left."

She hadn't noticed when they flew in, but they stood on top of a small crescent-shaped mesa. It seemed obvious that they should split up, one taking each side. None of the enemy shared the top with her and Barak. They were lower down the sides hidden behind the huge boulders that dotted the hillside.

"We split up then. Pick a side, Barak Trace." She grinned, the anticipation of a sniper's hunt coming over her. He stilled and his eyes grew colder.

"You seem much too light-hearted and eager about this situation."

She chuckled, but was careful to keep the sound low despite the sounds of continued covering gunfire from below. Which reminded her. She approached the edge and sent her thoughts out to Alrik. She felt Alrik reaching his awareness out to her. She knew he was still angry over her involvement, but he kept most of that from her, wrapping her in warmth and relief. He admonished her for taking so long to reach safety and she shivered at the image he shared with her, spanking her and then fucking her. Pressing her lips together, she hissed her frustration. Not the time. Not the place. She needed to concentrate to get this done. He responded with a laughing caress that made her nipples pebble and her pussy throb. Promising to fulfill every carnal fantasy later, he quit teasing her. She showed him his friend was on the ledge with her and felt his quickly hidden relief. She wasn't sure if that meant he thought she couldn't get the job done or if he trusted Barak with the task more than her. Both thoughts rankled.

Barak was eying her suspiciously. He still hadn't decided if he could trust her or not, and he must have noted her distraction, realized she was communicating telepathically. Cilia had explained to her it was a skill that developed to some extent in all mated pairs. "A signal?"

She grinned. "For Alrik." Then she sobered, all trace of humor gone from her. Trust went two ways. Testing the spymaster now, she spoke, "I let him know you're here. He's expecting us now."

"Good." He nodded. She stepped away having decided she'd take the right side of the mesa. "One thing, Sergeant Major."

Ah. So he hadn't decided he accepted her yet. She turned back around to face him. "Yes?"

"You spoke of a Torfa heir," he said hesitantly and she understood.

He knew that pregnancy would put her firmly in his camp.

"I did. A boy or girl, do you think? I imagine there will be a betting pool soon enough."

She grinned. She understood fighting men well enough. Where a birth was due, there was always wagering as to sex. Days ago, hours ago, she would have prayed to every god and goddess of Earth to not bear a girl. Now she was less sure. The men of Delroi obviously needed shaking up and who better to do that than she and her daughter?

Barak shook his head and muttered. "May the Gods help us all if it's a girl."

She laughed. "Y'all could use a little bit of shaking up."

#  Twenty-three

"I think we'll get enough of that with you, my lady," he answered tartly.

"Maybe," she answered, but she was smiling, the excitement of battle beginning to rush through her veins and not thinking about how difficult the men of Delroi might consider their coming transition. She turned her back to him, tracing the curve of the mesa with a practiced eye. "Let's get this over with, Trace. There's a shower waiting for me at home. Be sure to take at least one alive for questioning."

And when had that space ship become home? No matter. No time to think about it. Now there were men, the enemy, who needed to be eliminated. She moved along the edge, searching them out below her and snorted quietly. Eliminated. Soldier speak for killed. Civilian speak for murdered. Semantics. What did it matter really? She could kill them or they could kill her.

She saw the first of her prey directly below her and pointed her weapon. Her finger still on the trigger as she contacted Alrik, let him know in that weird way of theirs that she needed covering sound. Within seconds there was a spattering of fire from the floor of the gulley and one single shot from above. She didn't hear anything from the direction Barak had gone in and had to assume he had a silencer, or was killing on a more up close and personal basis than she was. Neither would surprise her. They'd agreed one of the attackers must be kept alive to question and Barak would see to it, but outside of that, all bets were off.

She moved on.

She killed three more along her way to the edge of the mesa and began her climb down, mentally warning Alrik of her approach. She'd hate to get shot by accident. She laughed at herself. Hell, she'd hate to get shot on purpose. The climb was tricky and she lost her grip a couple of times, slipped with dangerous swiftness before clinging fast again. When her feet finally touched solid ground, she sank to her knees and acknowledged her fear, if only to herself. She looked up the almost-sheer face of the cliff. She should have doubled back to an easier place to climb down. Next time she would.

"The hell with that," Alrik growled and pulled her up into his arms. She hadn't realized she'd shared the thought. "There will be no next time."

She laughed weakly and accepted his embrace. His warmth. His strength. She was shaking from the climb. And maybe from the killing. The aftermath was always hard to deal with. She lifted her head from where it rested against his chest. He captured her lips before she could speak. Before she could ask or beg for his kiss. There was something desperate in it, in her, a clinging to life. She wanted to be alone, wanted there to be no clothes between them, but knowing that wouldn't happen for quite some time yet, she broke away. The memory of his lips would have to be enough to assuage the need in her. For just a little longer. Panting, she took a step away, forcing her mind back to the game at hand.

"Barak?"

Alrik stared her, silent, and she wasn't sure if he was going to answer. She felt the heat in him, both angry and erotic, and knew he was struggling for control. Finally, he took her hand and after a brief hesitation responded to her question.

"On his way down."

"Did he take a prisoner?"

Experiencing her first doubt in the plan, she bit her bottom lip as she waited for Alrik's answer. She had told him to because she was willing to accept the limitations of strength her size and sex imposed on her, but someone to question was vital. That didn't guarantee Barak would be any more successful in the task than she would have been.

"He did. Unconscious. We'll question him when we are back on the ship."

He slid his hand up to her elbow and she sucked in a breath. So much promise in that slow smooth caress. He smirked, knowing the knots were again tied in her belly, the need riding her hard, and led her back to the others, into the clearing and out of the shelter of the shuttle where she was forced again to ignore the lust and concentrate on the danger.

His warriors had gathered the dead who'd fallen and were examining them. Daggar stood with a hand shielding his eyes against the sun and watched as Barak descended the slope with one of the attackers slung over his shoulder. He turned to face them as they approached and bowed deeply at the waist.

"Sister." She blinked in surprise at the naming. "On Delroi, there are old stories, legends really, of warrior women graced by the gods. You do them, and us, great honor in your skill and service to the Torfa Clan."

She shook her head sharply once. "I do what is necessary. It is important you understand that about me, Daggar."

He smiled. "Even when it is at your peril and against the wishes of your mate?"

She sucked in a harsh breath, aware of many implications, many tricky holes here. "Even so."

"Such honor in an enemy."

His smile took the insult from his words and she understood he meant them to be evidence of his growing respect. That wasn't where she chose to go with them however. She shrugged.

"As long as I am the mother of Alrik's child, I will not be your enemy." Her smile was fierce. "And God help the man who tries to separate me from my child."

She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest. Forced her smile to gentle. "And there is more at stake here. More at issue. In a generation or two, maybe as much as three or four, women will have a different role on Delroi. I will be that beginning. My daughters will follow me. You should all accustom yourselves very quickly to the idea of women warriors because you might live to see it in your lifetime. I'd hazard to guess there are already women on Delroi who wish for such a role."

She took a deep breath and watched Alrik and Daggar both struggle with the idea. "Your world must change, as must mine. I think I'm really beginning to understand that. It will speed things up if you do too."

"I believe you are asking too much, Laney," Daggar said, but she noticed Jaxon had stopped a short distance away and was listening. Remembered he had a daughter.

"You spoke of your legends. Your gods. I'm sure you can imagine it would go against my nature not to keep in fighting shape. Not to make sure my daughters can defend themselves."

He nodded, but it was obviously reluctantly. "I suppose."

"These are simple enough changes, Daggar. Things that are going to happen whether you approve of them or not."

"We wouldn't order you not to do these things," he said formally, stiffly. She smiled.

"Of course not. But when someone outside of the family asks me to train their daughter, how will you respond? I have been there before. It will happen."

Daggar scowled. "Not on Delroi."

Jaxon cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Excuse me, my lord. But I believe the Lady Torfa is correct. If it became known she was teaching her own daughter to fight and defend herself, others would ask if they could be included." He hesitated. "I would ask this for my own daughter and the peace it would give me to know that she could protect herself if she was alone. As you know, my liege, my family lives in the borderlands."

Daggar and Alrik both looked at Jaxon and their struggle was clear on their faces.

"Nothing need be decided here," Alrik eventually answered.

She sighed. At least it wasn't a flat out no. She would wait to pursue the issue. Barak reached the ground and approached them, dropping the man slung over his shoulder to the ground. His head thumped the packed dirt and she repressed a wince. The enemy soldier was here to kill them; concern for the goose egg he'd be sporting was hardly necessary. That thought was banished when she looked at him, though. Like Barak, intricate tattoos covered one side of his face and neck.

"Well, I guess that answers that question, doesn't it?"

Alrik squatted down in the dirt next to him and examined the markings. He looked up to meet Barak's gaze.

"I don't recognize him. Do you?"

The spymaster shook his head once and scowled at the unconscious man. "His tattoos look like a mixture of several clans. I'll have to do some research once we are back onboard."

Nodding, Alrik stood and turned to Jaxon. "Let's load up and get back topside."

The warrior left to follow his orders.

"Alrik? Since we're down here and not far from my base I'd like to get a few things."

He shook his head. "Bad idea."

She arched an eyebrow. "Why? The attack was by your people and it's over. Plus they're unlikely to try again so soon, especially in the middle of one of our bases."

Barak interrupted. "I'm not so sure of that, my lady. Haven't you wondered how it is I came to be here?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You weren't on your way to meet us anyway?"

"I was, but I had to meet an informant first. One of yours actually."

"One of mine. Kendall."

It was a logical leap. Kendall's base was closest to this valley, and Britt had semi-retired and relocated to the southern continent. There were others nearby Laney had utilized to leak information to the Delroi, but none shared the bonds of friendship with her that Kendall did. If he was surprised she knew exactly who he'd seen, he didn't betray it by even one flick of an eyelash. She admired his self-control.

"What did she say?"

"Only that she'd overheard a conversation about the demonstration and had a bad feeling about it."

"Who?"

"Colonel Eldridge and a Commander Earth-side."

She looked at Alrik who was scowling. "Did Eldridge know about the demonstration before he got here?"

"He wasn't supposed to. And he shouldn't have access to any kind of communication device."

"Someone's working together," she murmured, wondering who among her people were so dissatisfied with the treaty that they'd go with the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Other than Eldridge of course.

"Exactly," Barak echoed and his gaze seemed to mirror her own thoughts.

"What happened on the other side of the valley with the delegation? Do we have comm yet?"

"Yes. All the attackers are dead over there. Their position was more defensible than ours."

"But there's no one left to question. Convenient ... for someone."

"Indeed," Barak responded.

They fell silent as Jaxon approached. He saluted Daggar. The fist-over-heart thump was beginning to seem natural to her.

"Everything is ready, my lord."

The warriors and Daggar boarded, but she held back waiting for Barak and Alrik. They stood a few feet away and spoke too softly for her to overhear. Not for lack of trying on her part. More secrets, and she was getting damned sick of them. She gave up pretense and just walked over. Barak glanced at her but continued talking to Alrik.

"Take the hover craft. I'll have a shuttle rendezvous with you later."

"A hover craft? Great. My base is only a couple of hours from here by craft."

Alrik frowned. "You're going topside. You can get your things later."

"Later?" She made her eyes big and innocent. "Like when it's safer, my lord General? How many years do you suppose that will take?"

His expression grew glacial and she wondered if she'd finally gone too far. But what the hell? It seemed to be a day for pushing her luck. He reached out and took her hand, pulled her up against his chest and whispered in her ear.

"I wonder if you will call me that tonight while I fuck you? I think I would like that. It might make up for some of the aggravation you have put me through today."

She wanted to pretend it was outrage that forced the gasping breath from her body, but it was nothing less than pure lust and they both knew it. Damn. And she'd been doing so well. With one look, one crude suggestion she was fighting her body again. She needed to focus on something other than getting laid.

That concentration wouldn't come as she stood next to Alrik and met his gaze. He wasn't fighting the connection between them either and she found it impossible to deliberate on anything but the memory of his big body blanketing hers, of his cock thrusting into her and the best sex of her life.

Barak cleared his throat. A timely interruption as she was once again close to jumping Alrik, and not to hurt him. Alrik broke his gaze away and turned to his spymaster. Barak tossed him a thin key card and moved to the ship's ramp. Alrik smoothly snatched it out of the air.

"It's about two kilometers east. Do you want a lift?"

Alrik scowled. "We'll walk."

The spymaster boarded and the door closed behind him. She released a pent-up sigh of relief and expectation. Alrik didn't speak, just turned, walked to the rocky incline, and climbed. She followed as quietly as she could, trying to not bring any notice upon herself. He was pissed, but he didn't seem to know why any more than she did.

Keeping her mouth shut was definitely the safest course of action.

#  Twenty-four

Alrik reached the top and turned to help Laney up. She didn't need his assistance; he'd seen her climb easily, gracefully, earlier in the day. So he was amazed when she took his hand and let him pull her up, then she stood before him with an almost docile expression on her face. Who was he angrier with? Her for forcing him to see her as a soldier today? Or himself for his inability to say no to her?

This was dangerous, foolhardy, going into her camp, but even as he'd argued against it he'd known he was going to allow it. There could be a trap for him or her waiting there. Hell, it could be a trap for him set up by her. Although he didn't believe that. It wasn't smart to trust her yet and he couldn't say why he did, but there it was.

"Let's go," he said.

His voice was gruffer than he'd intended and her eyes widened slightly for a brief second with both anger and surprise. She was a woman who didn't like being ordered around. Tough. She'd have to take direction on Delroi whether she liked it or not. Not because he wished her subservient but because she didn't know the people, or the dangerous politics that reached out to swirl around them there and even here. He didn't try to explain any of that now, though, and she didn't press him to talk, thank the gods. He set off in the direction Barak had indicated and she fell into step beside him.

After a moment they paused together and watched as the shuttle lifted from the valley floor. When it was no more than a speck in the sky, Laney sighed and started walking again. Her hand hovered over her belly for a moment before she shoved it in her pocket.

He smiled, thinking of what lay there, safe and protected in his mother's womb. It would be weeks before they knew the sex, but he didn't need the test to know he would have a son. And after what she'd done today, he had no doubt that Laney would stop at nothing to protect the boy. She'd made a choice out there that put her squarely on Alrik's side. He frowned. No. That wasn't exactly true. She was with him because of the child. No other reason. Yet.

"You're getting all dour and sulky again," she said.

He looked down to meet her gaze. She cocked one eyebrow and gave him a grin that could only be called saucy. He wanted those lips wrapped around his cock. He'd been trying so hard to temper his dominance that he felt a little bad for the thought, but it was impossible to ignore his need for her, impossible to ignore the hard inner core of him that wished she'd willingly submit to his will. He struggled to reign in the primitive need, knew if he did have her submission in all things he'd only wish to have the fire of her spirit back.

"I don't sulk," he managed to answer mildly, even though his heart started to thud wildly, as if he was in the heat of battle.

"Ahh, so your silence isn't some kind of punishment because I did things today you didn't want me to? Or for going back to my base? Or, you know, just my defiance in general?"

He didn't answer and she shook her head. "It may have escaped your notice, but I took a side today. Made a choice to go along with your treaty and your plans. I chose you."

They rounded a curve in the path and the hovercraft came into view. It was sheltered behind a half ring of large boulders. He looked around. Plenty of privacy for what he had in mind. She walked forward, but he grabbed her hand before she could get in.

"I had a different sort of punishment in mind than silence."

Keeping her face blank, she turned to face him, arching her eyebrow again, but he felt her surge of interest. "Here?"

He felt her enter his mind and watched her eyebrow climb even higher as she caught his desire, her lust rising to meet it. She licked her lips.

"I don't know that that's really a punishment."

"Humor me."

"Of course, my lord."

Her tone was light and teasing. She smiled, slow and sultry and moved closer to him. She lay her hands against his chest, lingering as she moved them down, taking her time. Even through his clothing her touch made him burn. Lust rose like a fine red mist in his mind, in the air between them. Her hands drifted lower until finally they stopped on his belt buckle. She only paused a moment before releasing the catch, then the button and zipper on his pants. They fell to the ground and she hooked her fingers in his underwear, pulling them down as she sank to her knees.

His erection jutted forward. With one hand, she gripped his hip while the other wrapped loosely around the base of his cock. Then her lips brushed over the head, light, gentle. Almost a caress. She traced it with her tongue and fire raced up his spine at the sensation. He groaned and she looked up at him shyly. He wondered how much of it was an act for his benefit, but quickly banished the thought. The bond wouldn't allow artifice between them. Not in this.

All thought fled though as she took him into her mouth. Just the head. Lightly sucking as she ran her tongue over the slit there. He quit breathing and thrust forward. He wanted her to take all of him, needed to embed himself in the wet warmth of her mouth. She obliged him, letting his cock slide farther into her mouth, suckling as it did. He pulled out, thrust back in, gradually building a rhythm, increasing his speed. As his strokes grew faster, her mouth grew slicker and tighter. She made soft mewling sounds each time he touched the back of her throat.

It didn't take long before he was gritting his teeth. He hadn't planned on coming in her mouth this first time, but if he didn't stop her soon the choice would be out of his hands. Just another minute and he'd stop her. But he found it impossible to do so. His release rushed through him, exploding through his body as he jetted into her mouth. He stopped moving, frozen as it broke over him but she kept sucking, her throat moving to swallow his cum. When there was no more, she licked his shaft, careful to clean it of every drop. She smiled as she sat back on her heels, palms resting on her thighs.

"Is that what you had in mind?" The submissive position inflamed him even as her words and tone made it clear she didn't see herself in that light. She was cocky and self-assured. His der'lan was well aware by now of the effect she had on him.

"Not quite," was his almost growled response.

She rose gracefully and he grabbed her before she could skip away, burying his hand under the pinned up mass of her hair and claiming her lips for his own. She moaned and pressed closer, molding her body against his. He was hard again in an instant.

She was wearing too many damned clothes. He reluctantly left her mouth and knelt to yank the zippers down on her boots. They sailed through the air as he removed them and when he reached for the buttons on her pants she was already ahead of him, shoving them free. He pulled them off and stood, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around his waist as he slid home. Turning, he leaned her back against the hovercraft, bracing his legs apart to support them, before moving inside her. Thrusting harder and harder, faster and faster, he kept his mind firmly locked to hers, felt her thoughts splinter apart as her body followed.

He slowed his strokes, holding back his own orgasm, and kissed her again. This time slowly, drinking her in as he felt his control of the emotions that had raged through him all day slip. He poured it into the kiss, into the movement of his cock stroking her. The joy in finding her, claiming her. The fear of losing her. The frustration and anger that she fought him step by step in doing what a Delroi male was supposed to do. Protect his mate. Honor his der'lan.

He'd gone from absolute terror to fierce pride and back again watching her climb that cliff side earlier. Now he wanted to cling to her, hold her close to reaffirm that she was still here and then never let her leave his side again. His to protect, to honor, to cherish, to love. He shied away from the last, uncertain what loving a woman would do to the warrior.

She laid one palm on the side of his face and pulled away from his kiss. He couldn't stand the reluctance he saw shining in her eyes and pulled her face back to his. He kissed the tip of her nose before turning to nibble at her lips.

"Give it time. Remember?" he whispered.

He wasn't sure if the words were for him or her, though. Then he was kissing her again, more urgently this time, trying to banish his own conflicting emotions and the unwillingness he sensed from her to risk her heart. He stood straight, driving as deeply into her as possible and felt her pussy convulse, clench around him. She threw her head back and cried out as she came. The sweet sound pushed him past the thin edge of his control and he thrust into her once more, twice more, before releasing.

They clung together in the aftermath, gasping, hearts beating erratically yet somehow together. He slowly disengaged his mind and body from hers, setting her down on unsteady feet. She leaned back and for the first time since he had met her she looked vulnerable. With her hands on her hips, her breasts rising and falling in alluring tandem with her heavy breathing, she looked up to meet his gaze.

"Well. That was ... intense."

His smile was slow in coming, but real and she blinked in surprise. "That it was."

He pulled his clothes back together and stepped away to gather hers. He didn't like the shadows in her eyes and wanted to give her a moment to compose herself. He liked her strong and fighting, not defenseless and confused. She didn't speak as he handed her her pants and boots. Didn't speak as she dressed, or got in the hovercraft, or even after they were speeding on their way.

#  Twenty-five

As it turned out, his worry about going to her base was unwarranted, but Laney was careful to keep that observation to herself. The base her apartment was on was a small satellite of the larger base where division headquarters and her office were. The installation included senior enlisted housing, a small exchange and commissary, and not much else. It was a small close-knit community and the guard at the gatehouse knew her well. He raised an eyebrow at her arrival with a Delroi warrior in one of their hovercrafts, but didn't question her right to be there. He waved them through without asking even one question. She wasn't sure if she should be relieved or alarmed at that. She'd mention it to Bob later.

She directed Alrik to her place and was glad habit had forced her to hide a key near the door. She dug the fake rock out of her potted fern, removed the key, and opened the door. She hadn't been here for weeks and the air was musty. If she were staying longer than the time it would take to pack a bag, she would have opened some windows to air it out. Since she wasn't, she shrugged it off and walked through the small living room and kitchen to her bedroom at the back of the quarters.

Alrik followed silently, but she got the impression he took everything in. What did he think of the mess she'd left? The books and knick-knacks cluttering every surface? She tried to view it objectively and decided the place was her, but didn't fit what people believed about her. Nothing she could do about that.

She shrugged and opened her closet. Standing back, she set her hands on her hips and studied the contents. What did she want from here? From her old life? Her books. Her files and computer. Her private weapons.

The closet was full of uniforms. Formal and battle dress, all obviously Alliance. After today she felt like a hypocrite wearing them. She dug into the back of the closet and began pulling out civilian clothes. She didn't have much, but the bed was soon full of her small supply of jeans and t-shirts, dresses and skirts. She eyed the jeans and then the baggy camouflaged combat pants she was wearing and went to the other end of the closet. It took some searching but she finally found her black combat pants, the ones reserved for missions where she didn't want her allegiance easily guessed at. They were added to the pile on the bed.

What else? Shoes. She grabbed sneakers and sandals and eyed a pair of tall black leather boots. With a slow smile crossing her face, she grabbed them too. They almost reached her knees and resembled the boots the Delroi wore, unlike her mid-calf Alliance-issued footwear.

A soft chuckle broke her from her resumed study of the closet. She met Alrik's amused gaze. "I thought you just wanted a few things?"

"I wasn't planning on taking all of it," she answered cringing at the defensiveness in her voice.

He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, when she started pulling off her clothes. It suddenly seemed very important to her to get out of her uniform and into something that didn't proclaim commitment to either side. She didn't realize he'd moved until she was naked, and felt a moment of unease. She was getting so used to him she hadn't considered he might take it as an invitation. She had the black pants on and was pulling on the tall boots before he reached her.

He stopped and grinned. "Need some help?"

She scowled, refusing to get pulled into the sexy undertone. "Nope. I want to get out of here before anyone gets curious."

He sighed. "Need some help?"

"There's a duffle bag and box in the top of the closet," she answered while she sorted through the pile on the bed.

He handed her the bag and she stuffed the other black pants and two pairs of jeans into it. She hesitated over the dresses. She almost never wore them. Would she find a need for one any time soon? She decided to pass and examined the shirts. She picked simple, dark colored and un-patterned t-shirts and added them to the bag.

What else? She went to the dresser and opened the top drawer tossing out underwear and bras. Everything he'd seen so far was no nonsense white cotton, so Alrik raised an eyebrow and fingered the lacier black and red under garments with interest. She shrugged.

"Can't be the soldier all the time, can I?"

He handed her the box he'd retrieved and she opened it with relief. Her spare knife and pistol, both in leg holsters, were inside. She drew them out and strapped them on. He took a deep breath, but didn't protest. After today, there was no way she would continue going unarmed. She could see it disturbed him and he turned away. He walked to her small nightstand and opened the top drawer.

She remembered too late what he'd find there and hurried forward to stop him. He held up the vibrator and flipped the switch, watching in interest as it swirled into action. She closed her eyes and wished she could sink through the floor. Did the Delroi have sex toys? Even if they did, hers being discovered like this was embarrassing.

"Very interesting," he muttered and buried it in the middle of her duffle bag. "Anything else?"

She couldn't find her voice while her head was suddenly filled with Alrik's speculation of how he might make use of the vibrator, so she turned her back and unbuttoned her uniform jacket and then pulled off the t-shirt underneath it. She felt more than heard Alrik suck in a deep breath. Surprised, she turned to see what the problem was this time. His eyes roved her body.

"You're pushing your luck, woman."

She hurriedly reached for one of the black shirts she had left out on the bed and pulled it on.

"Better?"

He groaned. "Not much."

Frowning, she turned to the dresser mirror and examined her appearance. She liked it. Dressed all in black, the shirt tight across her torso, the pants loose fitting enough to maneuver in, knee high boots, a gun strapped to one leg and wicked looking knife on the other, she looked like a dangerous soldier but she wasn't in the green shades of her people or the tan of Alrik's. She was something else. She smiled. Yes. It was fitting. Wearing all black might become her new signature look.

Turning back around, she reached for the bag, zipped it up, and slung it over her shoulder. "Let's go."

She could tell he wanted to say something but he choked back the words and followed her out. She paused in the living room.

"Before we leave for Delroi, I want my books."

He nodded. "I'll make the arrangements."

"Thank you," she replied softly.

She wasn't sure what meant more to her. That he was willing to haul her books across the galaxy or that he hadn't protested her weaponry. She thought about the toy he'd put in the bag. On the other hand, he might have his own special kind of reprimand planned for later. She was grinning as she entered the hovercraft and they left to meet his shuttle. She was learning to like his idea of punishment.

#  Twenty-six

Laney had been surprised at how relieved she was to be back on board ship, but when Daggar met them in the shuttle bay and dragged Alrik off right away she was pissed. He'd spent the ride getting her good and horny. His fingers had stroked the sensitive underside of her arms, her nape. Brushed the swell of her breasts. Feather soft touches, designed to enflame just as much as the explicit images he shared with her. Leaning over her with the vibrator, face tense with desire as he imagined her coming over and over again, screaming his name and begging him to stop, both knowing damned well she wouldn't want him to end the torment, to end the pleasure, And now he was disappearing? And it didn't even seem to faze him. He kissed her distractedly, murmured I'll see you tonight, and left. She wanted to stamp her foot and howl at the frustration flooding her body. Instead she picked up her bag and went to their quarters.

Inside she paced and tried to calm her mind enough to unpack the bag. Her eyes narrowed on it where she'd tossed it on the bed. There was always the sex toy. After a moment she shrugged off the idea. She knew it wouldn't come close to satisfying her in her current state and instinct told her Alrik would be angry if she tried it without him. Why that suddenly mattered she couldn't begin to guess and didn't want to try.

Sighing, she made a decision and stepped to the door. She had to get out of here. Jaxon was waiting outside and smartly saluted when she stepped through the doorway. She smiled.

"Jaxon. Do you know where Cilia is?"

He cocked an eyebrow. She was beginning to associate the action as the default non-verbal why of Delroi warriors.

"Probably in the Healer's bay, my lady."

"Lead the way, then."

"Of course, my lady."

"Is everyone going to call me that?"

It was irritating. It had been a long time since there was a class system on Earth that included nobles. She only knew them through history books. It implied a position she hadn't earned. He just shrugged in response to her question, so she took it as a yes. One more thing to add to the growing list of things she had to get used to and not something she wanted to worry about now. She had two priorities—verifying she was pregnant, and finding and dealing with whoever was behind the planet-side attack. She didn't want any other surprises.

The first should be easy enough to accomplish, but it might be too early to tell. She followed nervously, not sure if she was ready to hear confirmation of her gut instincts. But then, maybe she wouldn't. It had to be too soon to know anything for sure.

The walk was short. She walked into the large room and Jaxon took up position near the door. There were only a handful of healers there, mostly men, and one by one they met Jaxon's cold gaze and exited. Cilia watched the scene play out with an amused expression on her face. Laney didn't bother to hide her exasperation with either of them.

"Was that necessary?" Somehow she managed to keep her tone mild.

"Yes." She narrowed her eyes at his laconic answer. He'd been talkative enough Earth side. "Did you want rumors of why you came to the healer's bay all over the ship by dinner time?"

She hadn't considered the possibility and was relieved he had. Odd to have a virtual stranger looking out for her. She shook her head, hoped it would clear her thoughts. Now was not the time to consider the dynamics of her new relationships. She met Cilia's gaze instead and dived right in.

"How early can you detect a pregnancy?"

"Within the first twenty-four hours usually. Your physiology is a little different, though, so it could possibly take longer."

Laney nodded. "Let's find out then."

Cilia smiled. "This way."

She led Laney to a chair near a counter that held an assortment of vials and hermetically sealed needles. She tied a rubber band over the top of Laney's arm, tapped the vein and withdrew a small amount of blood. Laney looked away during the process. Funny. Not much bothered her on a battlefield, but the sight of her own blood had always made her queasy.

It was over in seconds, and while Laney stood and held a small piece of white gauze over the puncture mark, Cilia placed the vial in a metal box. She pushed a button and the box whirred to life. Laney moved forward to watch. After a couple of minutes the display screen on its top blinked, but the results weren't in a language Laney could translate. She looked at Cilia for the answer.

"Positive."

Her knees went weak and she hastily backed up to the chair. Feeling light headed, she rested her elbows against her knees and leaned forward, taking in deep breaths. She'd had a strong suspicion, but confirmation was something else entirely. God had a fine sense of humor. She was so not mother material. Her head swam with visions of all the things that could go wrong, that she could do wrong.

She was well on her way to a full-fledged panic attack when she felt Alrik enter her mind. He wrapped her in warmth, in understanding and confidence. Her heart steadied from its staccato rhythm and she got control of her breathing. She felt his pride in her when her fear diminished and the irritation was enough to snap her the rest of the way free of her panic attack.

The door opened with that soft whoosh she was becoming accustomed to, and she lifted her head to glare at Alrik and Barak as they strolled in. Alrik looked entirely too pleased with himself. She stood as they approached and with a jerked nod to her, Jaxon excused himself to take up his station outside the door.

"How long until you can determine the sex, Cilia?" Alrik asked.

Laney frowned. "It's a boy."

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "I agree."

But Cilia frowned. "A few weeks. You can't be sure of that yet, Laney."

Oh, but she could be. Just as sure as she'd been that she was pregnant in the first place. Why did that disturb Cilia so much? "I am."

Cilia sighed. "We'd hoped ... well, you're just one woman."

Ah, she understood. The Delroi had come because they weren't having daughters anymore. They'd hoped the women of Earth would.

"I promise you a girl next time," she said dryly before she could censor herself.

Next time? She was insane. Once would be more than enough. Alrik grinned, though, and she found she wasn't as worried as she'd been earlier. Desperate to get back on safer ground, she changed the subject and turned to Barak.

"What did you find out?"

"No matches on the tattoos. We're running ID's through the database."

"How long will it take?"

"Several hours probably."

She checked her watch. It was a couple of hours till dinnertime. Enough time for her to walk over to the hostage rooms and try to dig up some information on her own. She eyed Alrik. He'd protest.

"Don't you have something to do?" she asked.

He raised both eyebrows. "Trying to get rid of me?"

She grinned. "Just for a couple of hours."

He scowled. "I don't want you further involved in this."

"A little late for that," she said lightly, edging her way past him and to the door.

She glanced over her shoulder. Almost there. Just another couple of steps. He caught her arm as she walked over the threshold. He was still scowling and his eyes were cloudy with emotion. Was he going to refuse to let her help? She held her breath.

"One hour, Laney and I come looking for you. We're having dinner with Daggar and Barak tonight."

She almost sagged with relief when he spoke, but kept a tight rein on herself. Living with Alrik was going to be akin to an armed truce. She'd take what she could get without a fight gracefully, without any kind of gloating or sense of victory, because, God knew, it wasn't going to happen often. She grinned despite herself. On the other hand, life would never be boring would it? Nodding, she turned on her heel and strode away, uncomfortably aware of Jaxon's pursuit and Alrik's gaze boring into her back until she disappeared out of sight.

She tried the common room, and when she found it empty, knocked first on Eldridge's door then Black's. Neither answered. Annoyed and concerned by their absences, she returned to the common room and stared out the window. In the glass she saw Jaxon looming behind her.

"Is there a way to find out if Eldridge and Black are onboard?"

He stepped closer. "The General can find out."

She pressed her lips together. She wasn't ready to involve Alrik yet. She needed to contribute something, not be relegated to the sidelines. Which reminded her of something that had bothered her earlier. She turned around to face Jaxon.

"What's your role here? Will you always be the one following me?"

She couldn't quite keep the sarcasm out of her voice, and damn him, he just arched an eyebrow. Damn all Delroi warriors and their lack of language skills. She growled, rested a hand on the butt of her pistol and took an aggressive step forward. He finally responded but his amusement was evident in his eyes.

"I'm the captain of your guard, my lady."

She cocked her head to one side. Interesting. "I have a guard?"

Jaxon chuckled. "Yes. Yours a little unusual."

"Is it? Why?"

He shrugged. "Usually a der'lan is protected by the household guards. Barak thought it might be useful for you to have your own."

So Barak didn't trust her after all. She narrowed her eyes. How many men assigned to her worked for Barak?

"And are you all spies?"

Jaxon snorted. "I told him it wouldn't take you long to figure that out. To answer your next question, my lady, we aren't here to spy on you. We're here to help you where we may."

That gave her pause. What kind of game was Barak playing? Until she knew, she would play her own. She checked her watch. No time now.

"In that case, find out where Black and Eldridge are. I want a report on all their movements in the morning."

Jaxon banged his fist against his chest. "Yes, my lady."

Without another word, afraid to trust herself to say anything else, she stepped around him and returned to Alrik's quarters.

Cilia, Daggar, and Barak were all there, along with several people she didn't know. The two pregnant women she'd seen in the garden with the same two warriors hovering nearby, a couple of warriors she'd seen around Daggar or Alrik, and two more men she thought she'd seen in the healer's bay. Who she didn't see was Alrik and, frowning, she made her way through the crowd to Daggar's side.

"Alrik?"

He nodded at the door to the bedroom and she turned to watch Alrik step through. His appearance had the usual effect on her. How the hell was she supposed to make it through this dinner when just looking at him and wondering what he was going to do with that vibrator later was almost enough to make her come? He met her gaze and gave her a smile that could only be described as calculating and wicked. Then he filled her head with visions as he walked over. He led her around the room introducing his guests and all the while the visions got kinkier and sexier. Finally the circuit was over and she was again standing near Daggar. She struggled to keep her face calm and expressionless, to keep her breath under better control than a pant.

"Are you okay, Laney?" the Overchief asked. "You look a bit flushed."

She glared at Alrik. "I wonder why."

Alrik tried to look innocent, but Daggar clearly knew what he had been up to. He chuckled and had the good sense to cover it with a cough when she transferred her glare to him.

"I think it's time to eat," he said.

#  Twenty-seven

The next week was a blur of negotiations during the day and Alrik's sweet torture at night. After the first few days when she thought she would crawl out of her skin if she didn't get him inside her right now, they gave up pretending nothing was going on. She had discovered the joys of almost-exhibitionist-sex, and was way too familiar with the inside of many of the ship's hideaway rooms. Closets were her personal favorite—no choice but to get up close and personal there. His people seemed to expect this as par for the course and hers saw it as a sign she wouldn't protest the upcoming marriage too loudly.

But wherever she went, she heard whispering that suspiciously ceased when she made the scene. Many of her old friends were not quite so sociable and some were flat out cold. She couldn't dredge up enough interest to care about personal betrayals. Sex—sex with Alrik—consumed her. Protecting her unborn child was a damned close second.

She scowled and quickened her pace. Her investigation was going nowhere. Every day she received reports of Black's and Eldridge's movements, along with any deviation of the Earth contingent. There was nothing there. No unauthorized communications. No secret or even open meetings with enemies. She made sure Jaxon gave copies of his reports to Barak, but the spymaster hadn't reciprocated. She had no idea if he was making better progress and Alrik was maddeningly silent when she questioned him.

He had been on the surface all day, but had let her know an hour ago he was returning. He should arrive any minute now. The first time he'd tried to go to the surface alone, he'd rushed back. They couldn't take the distance between them. Today they had been fine, because the bond was firm. Despite that, she didn't think they would get off the craft before she ripped his clothes off. She grinned. Something told her he wouldn't mind.

Coming up to the last turn, she heard furtive whispers and skidded to a stop. She tilted her head to one side and tried to distinguish the voices. Bob, General Scott, and the Prime Minister.

"This is stupid," Bob hissed. "You don't know Laney like I do. She won't do it."

"She will if you order her to," General Scott answered in a cold voice.

There was an abrupt silence. She heard shuffling feet, and imagined Scott and the Prime Minister trying to glare Bob into submission. She bit back a chuckle. She could have told them not to waste their time. Once he decided to do or not do something, Bob was as immovable as a mountain.

"Taking out Torfa is the only way for us to be free of these people, and she's in the best position to do it," General Scott finally added.

She held her breath. Here were her conspirators. Or were they? Was this something separate from the attack at the testing ground?

"They'd kill her and annihilate us."

"Not necessarily," the Prime Minister answered. "Her initial distaste for the situation is pretty well known. We just make it known she bided her time. She lulled them into a false sense of security and took the opportunity when it arose. They won't attack all of us for the individual actions of one woman."

She blinked in surprise. Interesting. The information about her pregnancy either hadn't been leaked or they didn't understand the implications. There was no way she'd kill the father of her child. He was her son's only real protection. If she'd ever doubted her own people posed a danger to him, that doubt was now banished.

A plan took shape in her mind. She stepped around the corner so she was in full view. When all three of them turned to look at her, she stepped forward and smiled, knew it was cold and savage and didn't give a damn. Bob flinched, but the other two didn't seem to think anything was out of the ordinary.

"Gentlemen," she said into the silence, not even bothering to acknowledge the rank or station of any of the men standing there. If her ties to Earth had mostly been broken on the day of the attack, now they were irrevocably severed.

"Sergeant Major." The Prime Minister nodded at her. "You heard our plan?"

Still smiling, she answered. "It will snow in hell before I marry against my will. You don't need to worry on that account."

The Prime Minister smiled, and there was something ferocious and nasty in it that made her skin crawl. If she didn't come through, he had every intention of looking elsewhere. She couldn't let that happen.

"Odd how your plan so closely mirrors mine."

Bob looked sick, his eyes flashing knowledge. They'd served together so long he knew she was up to something, just didn't know what, wasn't sure what side she would come down on. She could see the question, the confusion in his eyes. Would she kill the Delroi general or was she stringing the Prime Minister along? He really should know her better. Well, she'd deal with him later.

"When?" General Scott demanded.

The tremor started in her hands and she shoved them in her pockets before anyone noticed. Bob's gaze flickered. She met General Scott's eyes with a hard glare of her own.

"I'll be in touch with General Darren. Under the circumstances, I'm sure you'll agree that the less you know the better."

Scott's suspicion was easy to read. "Why haven't you already done it, then?"

"I'd prefer to get out alive," she replied dryly. That much wasn't an act at least. And she was done talking. She nodded to Bob, hoping there was a world of understanding in the action and walked away. Once she moved far enough away to not be observed, she let anger hasten her steps.

She went back to their rooms and noticed Jaxon was still gone. No one had been waiting when she'd left the rooms earlier. She frowned. She'd grown accustomed to Jaxon's steady presence. It would have been nice to have him as a silent witness earlier.

Inside the sitting area, she paced and fumed. It was hard to say what made her the angriest. That they assumed she'd play a part in their plan? Execute the plan? Or that they were not only willing to sacrifice her life, but the first real chance of peace and recovery for Earth in a generation. The Delroi weren't just bringing unattached males. There were scientists and engineers and doctors, food and supplies, and the technology to make more—all things in desperately short supply.

She had been suspicious at first, too. No doubt, generations of war bred it into her. But in the few weeks she had been on board their ship, she'd watched the Delroi closely. They were a stern, perhaps severe race, true. But they were fair and appeared to care well for their own. Alrik had shown her no cruelty. She wasn't altogether positive that, were their situations reversed, she would have been capable of the same restraint.

And there was the child to consider. She knew his chances would be better with his father's people. Her own couldn't let go of their paranoia and suspicions long enough even to test this peace.

She sighed, some of her anger ebbing when she thought of Alrik. She had to stick to the plan. She'd let Alrik know what was going on, then corner Bob. Find out how deep he was. The real question was, were the Prime Minister's plan to kill Alrik and the Delroi rebel attack on Earth carried out by the same group? It seemed too coincidental to her. If the rebels really wanted to undermine the Torfas what better way than having a third party assassinate him?

When she refused to assassinate him, her former allies would tap someone else for the job. She could avoid that by having them arrested, but the only authority she might have to do that was Delroi. No, they needed to be dealt with another way. She'd never approved of the Prime Minister's appointment. Played right maybe this was the chance to be rid of him for good. She had to act quickly, though. Instinct told her they wouldn't wait long for her to kill Alrik or refuse to. She would refuse. There was no use pretending to herself any longer she was here only for the child. Sometime in the last week, she'd fallen hard for the enemy warrior.

"Mate," she whispered, testing the word on her lips.

Where was he? He should have arrived by now. Her heart pounded. Had they gone after him so soon? She slapped her hand against the door panel and damned near sprinted to the landing bay. The shuttle was there, but it was empty. Where the hell was he? She'd try Daggar's office. When she left the shuttle bay, she was running, her sense of urgency and danger high.

The guard outside the door let her in without questioning or announcing her. Finally some progress on the road to trust? Daggar and Barak both stood by a view port and turned as she entered.

"Where is Alrik?"

Daggar's eyes were cold and angry. Suspicion flashed across his face before he answered.

"I was hoping you could tell me," he answered dryly.

What was going on now? How would she know where Alrik was? Her confusion must have shown.

"The bond, Laney," Daggar said so softly she almost missed it.

Oh. Right. She should have thought of that. Did she want to use it to track him down? She looked at Barak and Daggar and felt the heavy weight of their disapproval and distrust. And reached for Alrik. A little backup never hurt.

At first she felt only swirling anger and dark need. The force of it staggered her and she was distantly aware of Daggar grabbing her elbow for support. She struggled against the flood of emotion from Alrik, afraid she'd get sucked under and be unable to find her way out. She felt as if she was sinking deeper. Then she felt warmth surround her, felt herself lifted and shielded. Alrik was with her, let her see him coming down the corridor and then through the door. The connection was severed.

He came to her, and setting his hands on her shoulders, shook her a little. She met his gaze and recoiled at the fury there.

"You went too deep, Laney." Somehow he managed to force the words through clenched teeth. "You can touch the surface of my mind, but no more."

She pressed her lips together to hold back angry words of her own. How was she supposed to know that? It was not as if she'd done it on purpose. She'd just reached out to find him. This was all so new to her. She didn't deserve his fury because she was inexperienced in mental bonds. Her eyes narrowed and she jerked out of his grasp. He'd already been furious; now he was just taking it out on her. I don't think so, bubba. Well, there was the remote possibility that he'd been angry at her for something else. He seemed to spend a lot of time irritated with her for one reason or another.

She looked at him, noting the cold glint in his eyes and the tension tightening his body. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at her. She reached out but he kept his mind closed. Shit.

He jerked away and moved to the other side of the room, but not before the connection between them opened again. He paced, his fury a living thing between them. His presence in the room was enough to accelerate her pulse and the anger in the air seemed to exacerbate it. The nearer he came, the more her body responded. Her breasts ached and her pussy clenched as if preparing for the spasms of orgasm. When she thought she couldn't stand the buildup of sexual tension anymore, he stood still.

His hooded gaze wandered over her body possessively. Stopping inches from her, he loomed, big, masculine, and sexy. Anger seemed to ooze from his pores and the combination of it and lust held her stationary, her thighs trembling so hard she was afraid to try to move.

"So, when are you supposed to do it?" he asked.

#  Twenty-eight

Alrik couldn't believe that after the weeks they'd spent together, after discovering they were going to have a child, she would conspire with her countrymen to kill him. There was no denying the evidence though, gathered thanks to his brother's guarded nature. The ship's sensors had been set to track the movements of the entire Earth contingent and record conversations in public areas.

Instead of the woman he expected to meet him in the shuttle bay, his grim faced brother greeted him. He had refused to accept the news, and had to hear and see the records for himself. It was a blow. Under normal circumstances, conspiring to kill a general was a death sentence, but nothing about this situation was typical. She was his woman and he wasn't willing to give her up. Then there was his son. Besides, their plans for this planet were nonnegotiable. They couldn't afford the damage or loss of life that would result from a continued war.

"I feel your anger," she said softly. "What happened?" She looked up at him and laid a hand over his heart. There were questions in her eyes. He grunted, not wanting to buy the innocent act but willing it to be so.

"Why didn't you meet my shuttle?" he countered.

Her eyes shuttered and she stepped away, pacing to the far wall and back. He felt her agitation and watched her stiffen her spine as if reaching a difficult decision.

"I was on my way to meet you..."

"And?" he prodded.

She sighed and looked at the floor. With two fingers, he lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. He saw conflict there and hardened his resolve. He wouldn't give her up, but the sooner he got her home where he could ensure she got into no more trouble the better.

"When are you supposed to kill me, Laney?" He asked the question softly, surprised and angered at the pang of grief he felt that she might try.

She gasped and jumped away, but he gripped her upper arms and hauled her hard to his chest. He clenched his jaw against the sensation of her body molded to his and pushed away the urge to take her to the floor right there. Time for that later. Right now, he needed answers.

"You actually believe I'd do it?" She looked at him through damp lashes and tried to get free, anger and despair shining in her eyes. "We didn't settle a time. Did you want me to say no? To give them an excuse to find someone willing?"

He continued to stare at her. Did he believe her because he heard the ring of truth in her voice or because he wanted it to be true?

"Tell me everything," he said, wincing at the harshness he heard in his voice. Her eyes narrowed and she ground her back teeth.

"Why bother? If you've decided I'm involved in some plot to kill you then what I say won't matter, will it?"

He gave her shoulders a gentle shake. "Don't push me, Laney."

"Fine. Let me go. I want to sit down."

He was reluctant to give up the contact and compromised by taking her hand and pulling her to the small couch. She glared at him when he didn't release the hand she tugged. He was aware of Barak and Daggar standing by the window. Waiting to hear her explanation too. He didn't acknowledge their presence but looked at her pointedly, waiting for her to continue.

"Fine," she huffed. He forced back a grin. She was cute when she was angry.

"I was coming to meet your shuttle, and you know where the corridor turns?" She waited for him to nod. "I heard people whispering when I got there and stopped to see if I could hear any of it. I've had Jaxon watching them all and there's been nothing suspicious. So when I heard what they were saying I stepped around the corner. They want me to kill you. I want to know if they were involved in the attack at the test site." She stared at the wall a minute before shaking her head and continuing.

"And now we have a problem." She glared at him. "I'm not going to try to kill you, I never was but they will try to get someone else. My people can't afford the war that would cause."

Relief rushed through him. She wasn't involved in the conspiracy, and he owed her an apology. She was his mate and he shouldn't have jumped to the worst conclusion. "The conversation is recorded and the computer's tracking program shows you there, but it can't tell me what you're thinking," he admitted.

"I can't believe you thought I'd try to kill you." Her voice was low, but he heard the controlled anger and hurt in it.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Alrik's hands slipped under her shirt while his lips trailed kisses along the nape of her neck. Laney went rigid and glowered at him.

"Let me show you how sorry I am," he whispered.

He felt the answering heat in her despite her obvious wish to rebuff him. He nibbled on her ear, and she softened enough to goad him further. His fingers feathered a soft trail up the silky skin of her stomach, pausing to trace small circles on the underside of her breasts. When he squeezed the pebbled tip of one, she gasped.

"Your brother and spymaster are in the room, Alrik. And I'm not done yelling at you."

That was remedied easily enough. He laughed softly. When he got her back to their rooms, she could bitch all she liked. He looked forward to it—after all there was all that making up to do afterward.

"I know."

He stood and tugged her up. They had personal business to attend to then he would deal with the other matter. A quick series of raps hit the door. Damn. His men or Barak's reporting in no doubt.

"Is the cavalry coming to rescue you?" she said sarcastically.

He snorted. The idea was absurd. She might attempt to kill him under some unknown circumstances, but she would never succeed.

The door slid open and Jaxon strode through, followed by an embarrassed-looking General Darren. He exchanged a questioning gaze with Laney's captain. To the casual observer he appeared calm, but Alrik recognized the tension radiating from the other man.

"I'm so sorry about this, Laney," General Darren said.

"You should be," she answered coldly. "What were you all thinking?"

"Don't lump me in with that crowd. They only cornered me because they thought I could get you involved." He snorted sourly. "After all these years, you'd think they would know us both better."

She smiled slightly in response. "You'd think. So what do you suggest we do now, Bob?"

"Scott and the Prime Minister will have to be replaced. I called the Council—we'll have to convince them."

Laney crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. "We? Why should I get further involved? I don't have anything to do with this. I don't belong to the Alliance anymore, remember?"

He fidgeted and his gaze went from Alrik to Daggar. "There's some ... mumbling about this peace treaty. Some people think it looks like an occupation."

This time Alrik raised an eyebrow. They viewed the new settlements as further invasion, did they? Somehow he didn't think they would like the alternative—all out war. Laney must have felt his determination to get what the Delroi needed one way or the other through their bond. Taking a deep breath, she nodded at General Darren.

"Okay. We'll persuade them. When?"

Darren straightened and released a pent up breath. "Good. They should be arriving now."

"Let's get it over with, then." She stepped towards the door and Alrik fell in beside her with Daggar behind him. Turning, she placed a hand on his chest to stop him. The connection between them snapped to attention and he fought the impulse to drag her down the corridor to their bedchamber.

"You can't go," she said and shook her head.

"I'm going."

"No. You aren't. It's going to be hard enough to convince them without you glowering over the proceedings. We need to argue it out amongst ourselves. Don't worry," she added with a cocky grin. "I never lose."

She slipped out the door and down the corridor while he stood rooted in place. I never lose. What the hell did she mean by that? Had he made so much progress during the last week that she had decided being bonded to him was a win, and not the end of her world? Or, did she intend to try to leave him? Anger got him moving after her. There was no way he would let her go.

Daggar stopped him before he caught up to her. "I think we should let her handle it, brother."

He was hesitant for the first time since his youth. "She never loses," he said, confused. "What do you think she meant by that?"

"She intends to make them see reason. What else?"

Alrik closed his eyes, willing the panic to dissipate. Staring at the closed door she'd exited, he mumbled, "What if she intends to leave me?"

It was such an strange idea, that mates might separate, that Daggar looked at him as if he'd lost his mind.

#  Twenty-nine

It was very late when she left the Council. After she had a few hours sleep, she might feel triumphant at wringing success from the endeavor. She and Bob had spent hours convincing the skeptics, often one by one, that peace and an open trade agreement were their best and only options. Backing out at this point, or worse, attempting to assassinate one of their leaders, would only end in more war and that was the last thing they could risk. They were in enough trouble as it was, critically short of the basics needed for survival.

Expecting to find their quarters dark and silent, she was surprised when she tried to enter quietly and found both brothers waiting for her. She was too tired for niceties and held up a hand, interrupting their questions before they could ask.

"It's done. They've replaced the Prime Minister, and there won't be any more conspiracies." She yawned and looked with longing towards the other room and its large bed. "I'm so tired I can't think straight anymore."

She watched the brothers exchange a long look. Daggar nodded and rose from his chair. "I'll go find your General Darren. We can discuss the details later."

Too tired to move, she stood in place as he left and warily watched Alrik approach her. He hadn't spoken a word since her entrance and the expression on his face was remote and distant. He stopped inches away, close but not touching.

"I'm really not up for fighting with you right now," she said, swaying on her feet a little.

She just wanted to sleep for about twelve hours. She sat on the nearest surface, a wide ottoman next to the couch. She unzipped her boots and removed them and her socks. Twisting a little to one side, she unbuckled the straps on her gun holster and removed it, placing it carefully on the floor. Then she repeated the action on the other thigh and the knife joined it.

"The shirt next." She looked up to see Alrik watching her. He'd stepped back and stood with his arms crossed over his chest. The emotional distance from earlier was gone, to be replaced by a dominant predator. Her heart sped up and she pulled the shirt off, let her bra drop next to it on the floor. Her nipples hardened under his stare.

"Now the rest of it."

Slowly, she came to her feet and opened the button at the top of her pants. As she shoved them down she stumbled and he caught her, one arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees. He strode towards the bedroom as she clung to his neck. It was a heady experience. No one had ever carried her to bed before.

He sat her on the edge of the bed and removed her panties. In seconds he had her naked and under the blanket. Bemused, she watched him as he undressed and joined her.

"We're fighting naked?" she joked.

"No, we're making up naked," he said with mock seriousness. She was so charmed at seeing him relaxed she almost missed the rest. Turning serious, he went on. "You said something earlier I was wondering about."

"What?" she prodded when he paused for a long moment.

"You never lose."

"Yeah. So?" Confused, she rolled to her side and propped her head on one hand. He was upset because of that comment? Did he think they were still plotting against him, or worse, that she was?

He grew distant again and coolly met her gaze. "You know I'll never let you go."

With a soft laugh, she leaned over his chest and dropped a light kiss on his lips. "I wasn't planning on going anywhere. You aren't what I thought you were—what I was afraid you were."

Laney shrugged. "So I won't be a soldier anymore. I have the opportunity to do something constructive instead of destructive for the first time in years. No more wars," she added with longing.

She rolled onto her back, crossed her arms under her head, and looked at the ceiling.

"I'm looking forward to that. And I'm not letting you go either, Alrik. I told you. I never lose. Plus." She smiled. "I have a son to raise."

"We have a son to raise."

"We, then." She rolled to her side again and propped herself up on her elbow. "That's not why I'm doing this. I chose you, Alrik. Son or not. Peace or not."

The mattress dipped when he rolled on top of her. He cupped her face in his hands and smiled, the cold façade replaced by the real man. "So we both win."

"Oh, yes," she sighed and reached to pull him down to start the making up part.

#  MORE FROM LORIBELLE HUNT

If you enjoyed Invasion Earth, join my mailing list and my Facebook Reader Group to hear about upcoming releases and news in the Delroi series. Turn the page for an excerpt of the next Delroi book, Leaving Earth.

I also love connecting with readers on social media:

Facebook | Website | Twitter | Google+ | Goodreads | Pinterest

BOOKS BY LORIBELLE HUNT

Lunar Mates

Under Cover Of The Moon

Bad Moon Rising

Chasing The Moon

Call Of The Moon

Christmas Moon

Claiming The Moon

Captured Moon

Hunter's Moon

Risking The Moon

Sovereign Moon

Delroi Connection

Invasion Earth

Leaving Earth

Stolen Earth

Claiming Earth

Delroi Prophecy

Freedom

Irresistible

Redemption

Absolution

Delroi Warrior

Shadow Warrior

Dark Warrior

Star Warrior

Lost Warrior

Delroi Novellas

Galinn

The Varangian Chronicles

Viking's Heart

Viking's Dream

Viking's Awakening

The Elect

Protector

Guardian

Warrior

Sentinel

Redstar Werewolf Pack

Once Bitten

Twice Shy

Third Time Lucky

Mated By Christmas

Pride Law

The Secret

The Return

The Alliance

Forbidden Passions

Passions Recalled

Renegade Passions

Secret Passions
Leaving Earth: Delroi Connection Two (Excerpt)

Daggar Torfa, Overchief of the Warrior Caste of the planet Delroi, wouldn't say he was hiding. He stood in the shadows on the observation deck in the Royal Palace keeping watch over his sister-in-law, Laney. A job that should have belonged to his brother, but the responsibility fell on Daggar while Alrik was away looking into rumors of rebellion. Laney didn't know he was there and he didn't feel the need to clue her in. She'd overreacted already to their vigilance in watching over her, something that was unavoidable since she carried the heir.

As he watched, the shuttle landed in the bay and its ramp lowered. The baby was due in just a few weeks, two months at most, and his growth in his mother's womb was really starting to be obvious. Laney waddled across the tarmac of the landing bay to greet its disembarking passengers. He grinned. Not that he'd ever tell her she was waddling. He valued his skin too much.

If he felt the slightest pang of envy, he rationalized it was natural and forced it away. What red-blooded Delroi warrior didn't want to see his der'lan, the mate of his heart, heavy with his child? Unfortunately he had neither mate nor impending fatherhood to look forward to.

The number of females born on Delroi dwindled with every passing year, a fact which had prompted them to invade Earth after his seers had assured him the Delroi would find mates there. The invasion of and subsequent treaty with the other planet had, in large part, been successful. The other planet was recovering from its long years of war with the help of the Delroi people and their advanced technology. The trade was a bonus, but the real triumph was the number of mated pairs returning to Delroi in the last few months. The women of Earth may save his planet and his people after all. Not that things were going particularly smoothly. The grumbling on Earth had died down to be replaced by complaints on Delroi—that the process wasn't fast enough, that the Warrior caste benefited unequally.

To appease the people of Earth, the process of merging their peoples was cautious going. His detractors claimed it was too slow, purposefully dawdling, and the selection process to rotate to their colonies on Earth was weighted in favor of Daggar's allies. At the same time, very few people had been brought from Earth to Delroi and most of them were male.

But among today's arriving Earth contingent were two single women and he lurked in the shadows, watching with a small seed of hope. He felt different, as if his life would soon take another direction. He'd felt the same when his scientists came to him with the discovery of Earth. Somehow he knew his mate was going to step off this shuttle. Or maybe it was just a desperate wish. A foolish hope. He wanted what his brother had, even if he prayed his own mate would be more manageable.

Finally, people began to disembark. There were several men, from Earth and Delroi, a few women escorted by warriors and finally the two women Laney was waiting for. The first was petite, pretty with long black hair. His gaze dismissed her and zeroed in on the other one. He was overcome by a surge of lust so intense he almost hit his knees. This one, his soul cried out.

She spoke to the other woman as they walked down the ramp and he drank her in with a groan. Blonde, tall, curvy. She was dressed in no nonsense slacks and blouse and walked with a military bearing he couldn't deny. This was Laney's friend, the Army doctor who'd come to help deliver the first Delroi-Earth child, a suspicion confirmed when she reached the other woman and embraced her. Alrik would get a good laugh at his expense given how much Daggar had teased him over the past few months about not being able to control his independent, former-soldier mate. Instinct told him this one wouldn't be very obedient either. Would she at least privately be sub to his dom? He hoped so.

He abandoned his plan to stay hidden and went to the stairs, taking them two at a time down. When he reached the landing bay floor, he paused and took a deep breath. He needed more of a plan in mind than stalking over and pulling her into the closest empty room. Something told him she'd cause a scene if he tried.

It was Laney's laughter, her obvious pleasure in being reunited with her friends that spurred him into movement. But it was the other one, the blonde doctor, who arrested his attention. Her pinned-up hair was a pale, almost silvery blonde. She was taller than her friends, only a couple inches shorter than six feet. But her height in no way hid her curves, the soft voluptuously feminine body designed to drive a man crazy. To drive him crazy.

Her features were not the soft loveliness of her brunette companion or the striking sharpness of Laney's beauty. Her forehead was too high, her nose too straight to be considered a classic beauty. She was stunning all the same, with a calm regal air and an appraising startling green gaze that flared with heat when she met his gaze. To his disappointment she quickly suppressed it and he wondered what it would take to get it back, to make her lose control. He'd find out, and soon.

Laney met his gaze, arching one eyebrow and shifting her gaze back and forth, as if acknowledging the connection that sparked between him and her friend. How could she miss it? He couldn't peel his eyes off the woman.

"Daggar." She inclined her head. "I didn't think we'd see you until dinner."

"I had a free minute. Thought I'd stop by to be introduced to your friends," he said, reminding her without asking for an introduction.

He didn't want to appear overeager. Hell, who was he kidding? Laney smiled and there was a mischievous gleam in her eyes. She knew precisely what he was thinking. That was the problem with Laney, he and Alrik had both discovered. She always seemed to know exactly what they were up to.

"Of course," she gestured to the short brunette. "Britt Anderson. Daggar Torfa, Overchief of Delroi and my brother-in-law."

With a reserved smile the woman extended her hand and grasped his long enough to be polite while he gave Laney a disapproving frown. She hid a laugh with a cough.

"Britt is a wonderful painter. I think she's making this a working vacation. And," she said, turning to indicate the doctor. "This is Dr. Kendall Marks, another old friend who's come to deliver the baby."

"Dr. Marks."

When he clasped her hand, awareness surged between them and he had to force himself to release her. His surging cock protested the action, but she wrenched her arm back to her side as if shocked. Her eyes were suspicious and her expression became guarded.

"So, what do people call you?" she asked.

"My lord, usually." He grinned. "But since you're a friend of Laney's, I'm sure we will be friends too. Call me Daggar."

"Daggar seems too...informal."

What had she meant to say? Familiar? Intimate? He knew when he heard his name on her lips it would be both familiar and intimate. He was surprised how much he wanted to hear her use it, surprised at how much he yearned for her approval, because he sensed she would withhold the use of his name until she decided how she felt about him, until she didn't find him lacking.

It rankled a little that she didn't immediately fall at his feet, but it also pleased him that she was a cautious woman. If she weren't she could have easily been married to some human man by now. The idea of her being with another man, of belonging to another, filled him with fury. He tried to control it, push it away. She was free, so might have wasn't important. He wasn't so successful at keeping the anger out of his eyes though and when he pinned her under his gaze, she flinched and stepped back half a step. He needed to get away, get a grip on his wild emotions.

Bowing low, he took his leave, promising to see them at dinner. He needed to see to their room assignments, make sure she was in one that was easily accessible from the tunnel hidden in his. He had the perfect room in mind. It overlooked the gardens in the family wing and had a bed big enough for his large frame. The four posters would be perfect for securing her. His cock expanded at the thought. If he could get a grip on himself before dinner, it wouldn't be so hard to arrange another meeting. He knew Laney planned on giving the women a short tour and had a good idea what her final destination would be.

***

From the shadows, another man watched the unfolding scene between the three human women and Daggar Torfa with dismay. Barak Trace, Commander of Intelligence, hadn't planned on watching the disembarkment, hadn't wanted to be here at all, but with Alrik in the Southern Provinces checking up on the usual rebels he'd had no choice. It was easy enough to take time out to observe, easy enough to monitor the arrival of just one passenger. But the traveler, her background, and what he suddenly, achingly realized she meant to him were not so simple to handle.

They ran checks on all humans requesting to visit Delroi of course, and usually those reports were straightforward and easily verified. When Britt Anderson's application went through his office, he didn't think much of it. She wanted to travel with a friend that turned out to be a friend of Laney Torfa, General Alrik's mate. Such requests were not unusual and a small handful of human women had made their way to Delroi in such a fashion. But Lady Torfa was not an average female, even for Earth. Neither were her friends as it turned out.

Many people wouldn't have been apprehensive, but he'd made a career as a spy, and before that spent his childhood wary, cynical and untrusting. So when Britt Anderson's background check came back, he scanned it quickly. Then read it carefully. She was a famous painter on Earth, true. She had showings and sales going back two decades. A child prodigy. But there were curious holes in her past. Months or years at a time where she seemed to completely disappear. It alerted him, made him anxious and suspicious.

Luckily, in the last few months he'd cultivated contacts inside the Earth Alliance and was able to get her records. He went through all his lower level contacts before one with a high enough security clearance found the information he was after. She was a talented and valuable spy, her files indicating she was on inactive duty. It was only his perseverance, his sixth sense screaming at him this woman was not who she claimed that made him take it that far.

He and Alrik had argued over it for weeks before Alrik made the decision to let her come. He rationalized the Earthlings only wanted more in depth information. Information they were unsure of coming from Lady Torfa. Barak was not so sure, but he knew his place, understood his position in the chain of command. He could advise, was often heeded, but the final call would never be his. So with Alrik gone, he'd come here to witness this inauspicious occasion. The arrival of the first spy from Earth.

The problem was--and he admitted his problems were legion at this point--the woman could not be ignored. She was his and he did not have time for the complication she presented. Nor did he have the heart to send her home. If he was in a better mood or a humorous kind of man, he might have found it funny. Ironic even. The Delroi master spy's der'lan was, well, a spy. Who said the gods didn't have a sense of humor?

He watched Daggar take her hand in his, felt the growl rise in his throat. Daggar released her quickly and she glanced around, her eyes searching the shadows. He felt the weird flare of energy he'd learned to associate with psychics using their power. There was no way she could see him, but she'd sensed his regard and his displeasure at her touching another man. He moved farther back, pressing his spine into the wall behind him, and took deep meditative breaths. He must remain in control, but his job was suddenly complicated beyond anything he'd ever experienced. Ferret out the rebel plot, protect Lady Torfa, the doctor who'd come to visit her and belonged to his Lord if Daggar's reaction to her was anything to judge by, and the other. Britt. His own der'lan, though he couldn't afford to claim her right now. Would he, could he ever?

He'd managed to infiltrate the rebel force, but if they discovered what he was, who he was, anyone and everyone that meant anything to him would be considered fair game. He'd protect her at all costs, which meant he must stay away from her. He felt a stabbing in the vicinity of his heart and his Delroi genetics came roaring to the forefront, demanding he go after her, claim her, rut with her. Gritting his teeth, he didn't move. He was better than biology. Smarter than biology. DNA be damned. He'd keep her safe whatever way he had too.

#  COPYRIGHT

Copyright 2013 Loribelle Hunt

Discover other titles by Loribelle Hunt at

http://www.loribellehunt.com/

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

