Page 3

Chapter

Two

T he DNA tracker beeped louder with each step he took. He was getting close. This device normally used for hunting back home had come in handy. He wished however, that his ship could have pinpointed his target’s location to a smaller radius so that he could have tracked her down by now.

Nonetheless, Princess London would be captured by day’s end, and he could call this mission successful.

The sooner the better to get off this barbaric planet. He’d heard some tales of Earth, the only planet inhabited by humanoids in this solar system. It had recently become a popular spot to visit for slavers.

What he’d heard of this place didn’t prepare him for how primitive everything seemed, or the way the air was tinged with the faint scent of smoke. There were some flying ships in the sky but from what he could ascertain, the technology was so primitive it was laughable.

Zahn also observed that most people traveled by vehicles on the ground with wheels. The scan he’d done on this planet from his ship told him of heavy pollution and decay.

The only redeeming quality he found about Earth was that it was the birthplace of Queen Calliope. The citizens on Thibia were reluctant to accept a former concubine as their Queen but she was a fair and benevolent ruler, often stepping in for the Emperor whenever he needed to be away for diplomatic travels.

Princess London, the adopted daughter of the Emperor…his betrothed was also from Earth.

Zahn clenched his teeth when he thought about her taking off in such a manner that was unfitting of royalty.

It made sense that she would flee here to blend in amongst the inhabitants. It had been difficult finding a place to land his ship without being noticed.

He and his men had settled on one of the numerous tall buildings in the city, cloaking the ship before entering the atmosphere. Perhaps he should have found out what kind of clothes the natives wore before arriving on this planet, because everywhere he went people stared. The Earthlings weren’t much different in appearance, but their gear was more conservative.

No matter. He only had one general goal in mind—locate Princess London and take her back to Thibius. But first he planned on dealing out some well-deserved punishment for her defection. No one had ever treated him that way before. Royalty or not, how dare London humiliate him in front of all the planet’s dignitaries by running out on their betrothal dinner and then fleeing Thibius altogether?

Zahn had promised her father, Emperor Blaze, that he’d retrieve her, omitting what he planned on doing to her before they made it back to the Malazian galaxy. He’d tan her luscious backside good and teach London who her master was. If Zahn was being completely honest with himself, pride was what drove him to chase after her.

It had been an honor to be chosen by the Emperor to marry his much sought after daughter. Zahn, who’d come from noble lineage, chose to earn a name for himself rather than rely on his family’s name. From an early age, he wanted to succeed.

Through sheer will, determination and hard work, he’d made his way through the ranks of the Royal Army until he’d reached the top spot. He’d amassed a fortune of his own, and had become Thibius’s greatest champion. It only made sense that the mother of his heir be accomplished in her own right and Princess London was beautiful, graceful and royalty.

There was no better choice in the kingdom for him. So what if she didn’t excite him as a mate should? Zahn was sure, given time, they would do well together. She was very beautiful and many sons of noble house had offered for her hand. For her looks alone, it wouldn’t be a hardship to bed her. There was the added bonus of her having the right pedigree.

Still, that nagging sensation in the back of his mind made him wonder if he should have stronger feelings for her. Many arranged marriages lacked affection in the beginning but grew in time. Love wasn’t a requirement he sought in his future bride, but it worried him a little that he felt little more than brotherly regard for her. It barely roused his manhood, when he’d kissed her that one time.

Damn.

All would be fine. Perhaps in time, his body would acclimate to hers. Once he had her back on his ship and set about exacting his revenge, he was sure some other kind of feelings would surface. Zahn frowned as the device beeped almost out of control. There were two dots on the DNA tracking meter.

How could that be?

He’d bribed one of the servants at the king’s palace to bring him something personal of London’s, in order for him to track her. What he got was a hair brush. The strands of hair loaded into the device had brought him this far. Why was it malfunctioning now? One of the dots was immobile, but the other was moving further away from him.

It had to be some kind of fluke. He tapped the machine. Both dots were still there. He’d have to make a decision soon as to which direction he should go.

Damn it all!

He’d go for the one closest, which happened to be the one not moving. Zahn walked in the direction of the dot. He soon found himself in front of a large structure. What kind of place was this? The tracker told him there were several people inside. There was only one person he was interested in finding.

What was the princess doing here? Well, he’d find out soon enough. When he tried to open the door, Zahn discovered it was locked. It seemed like a primitive form of security. He could easily open it with a simple master pick, which he produced from his utility belt. He had it open within seconds.

When he entered the building the tracking device beeped louder. There were several doors around her. He held the machine in front of him, then above him. She was upstairs. Zahn let the tracker guide him. Another flight of stairs later, he stood in front of a door he was positive London was behind. Getting inside was even easier than the door to the building.

Once inside, he looked around with a frown. This tiny place was littered with cheap looking furniture and was no bigger than the closet where he housed his boots, in fact it was smaller. He heard running water. Turning the DNA tracker off, he placed it on a nearby table and moved toward the sound.

The door was slightly ajar, steam seeping out. Walking inside, he saw her silhouette behind a curtain. It appeared to be a primitive shower of sort.

His lips tightened in disgust. What was she doing in this tiny hovel?

She hummed an unfamiliar tune. Part of him said he should wait for her to finish washing, but the other half said seize her ! She had run away and humiliated him. She belonged to him, per the betrothal agreement and it was his right to reclaim her.

She was his!

He ripped the shower curtain open. London whirled around with mouth agape and eyes wide. The hands that had been in her wet hair immediately covered her breasts. She wasn’t the only surprised one.

Zahn’s body instantly quickened.

He’d seen the nude bodies of his various lovers over the years but he’d never had such a visceral reaction like this. He expected London to be nude when yanked the cover back, but he was not prepared for the way he felt.

Female attire on Thibius was made to show off the pleasing forms so he had an idea of what London would look like naked. Even with that in mind he was mesmerized.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her perfect figure. Though her hands were over them now, he couldn’t forget the sight of those full breasts tipped with dark, nearly black nipples. Her tiny waist and well-rounded backside had his mouth watering. Zahn found himself clenching his fists at his sides so he wouldn’t pull her against him.

There was something different about her, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Her hair was short and there was a beauty mark on her upper lip. It had to have been there, but in the back of his mind he wondered why he had never noticed it before, especially when it emphasized her full, sensual lips.

Before he could further examine her, she released a blood-curdling scream. Her reaction angered him. How dare she pretend outrage after she’d put him and her family through what she did?

He grabbed her forearms, hauling her against his chest. His mouth covered hers to silence the scream—at least that’s what he’d intended, but instead something else happened. His initial arousal that he fought upon seeing her naked body came back full force.

She pounded her fists against his chest, but it barely registered to him. The more London squirmed and wiggled to get out of his grasp, the tighter he held on to her. She twisted her head away, but he recaptured her lips, reveling in their sweetness.

In his mind she was his and it was his right to claim her as per the agreement of their arrangement.

He wanted her and he would have her.

Having London in his arms like this, her body wet and slick against his, had lust coursing through his veins. He realized mating with her wouldn’t be the trial he thought it would be. On the contrary, he’d enjoy her very much.

Paris tried to push herself out of the hulk’s grasp and break his suffocating kiss, but every time her head moved, his would follow. Where had he come from? Who was he? This was supposed to be a safe neighborhood. Things like this didn’t happen to her.

Not only that, why wasn’t she completely repulsed by his touch like she ought to be? Instead, an incredible heat flooded between her thighs.

No! This was wrong.

She wouldn’t allow this bastard to rape and then possibly kill her. Using the only weapon she had at her disposal, Paris brought her knee up and slammed it into his crotch as hard as she could.

He released her, letting out a loud grunt. He loosened his hold just enough for her to wiggle out of his arms. She couldn’t run out of her apartment with no clothes.

Paris contemplated grabbing the throw blanket from her daybed and wrapping it around herself, but decided, under the circumstances, it was best to get the hell out of here.

That split second when she hesitated cost her, because her intruder caught up to Paris. He started to speak, but she didn’t understand a word he was saying, not that it mattered. She had to get away. In her struggle, she hit and clawed him. When she tried to scream, he covered her mouth with a large hand and spoke in that unfamiliar language again.

Oh my God. I’m going to die.

She kicked and lashed out, which only made him tighten his bear-like grip on her. He was unrelenting. How could she ever escape? Maybe if she pretended compliance, he’d think she had given up and relax his hold. Paris went limp in his arms. “Please let me go,” she whispered in desperation.

“My purse is on the dresser. Take it. Just don’t hurt me.”

The hulk placed Paris on her feet and turned her around to face him. At first, she believed his eyes were black, but they were actually a dark fathomless green, so deep and mesmerizing she could barely look away. His face was hard and chiseled as if from granite.

He could have been a handsome man if not for the harsh look and firm set of his thin but well-shaped lips. She allowed her gaze to slide over his bare chest. He had to be the broadest man she’d ever seen, his body all ripples, hollows and hard planes. It occurred to Paris that his style of dress seemed a little out of place.

The man wore a brown leather vest and what looked like deerskin pants clung to muscled thighs. Black, swashbuckling type boots ending at his knees finished the look.

He reached out.

Paris flinched, but forced herself not to pull away when he caressed her cheek with his calloused palm. Why was she warm all of a sudden? She couldn’t possibly be attracted to this weirdo -- even if he did have the body of a god.

No! It wasn’t possible. Easy, girl, let him think you’ve surrendered. Then wham! A gust of heat flickered between her thighs. The barbarian lifted his other palm and cupped her face as though mesmerized.

Paris’s lips parted slightly in her bewilderment. Why was her body responding to him this way? She didn’t want to like it—couldn’t.

Just as his lips touched hers, Paris brought her knee up again. Unfortunately, this time he was ready for her. Quickly turning to the side, he slammed her into the door.

Her head banged against it, creating a dull ache. Her vision grew blurry, and the room started to go dark. Paris’s last conscious thought was that she was going to die.