“Oh, yes,” Josiah said, offering Jerred a frown of mock sympathy. “There was that unfortunate little incident with your diplomats, wasn’t there?”
“That little incident started an interstellar war,” Jerred gritted out. He’d lost good friends on that trip. It still hurt to think about.
“Don’t be naive,” Josiah said. “The war was going to happen anyway. Suing for peace was just good form—the battleships were already in place.”
Jerred tried not to think how true that might be.
“Think what you like to think,” Josiah said slyly, as if reading his thoughts. “It won’t change the ultimate truth of my words. I’m still left with my problem, though. I can’t quite decide what to do with you?
Should I let Celia decide?”
The woman in question gave a squeal of surprise and leaned forward.
“I’d take very good care of him,” she purred. “Just let me have him.”
“Would I still be alive after you were done?” Jerred asked softly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” she said lightly. “Ten minutes in the growth generator and I was fine. It’s amazing what those nano-machines can do for a woman. Of course, I haven’t forgiven you yet. It really was rude of you to treat me like that.”
“I also haven’t decided what to do with your little pet,” Josiah said. “But I have a feeling I’ll try her out before I do anything else. See what keeps you interested in her.”
Jerred shrugged, trying not to think about it. It would be better if she went with Josiah. She had a better chance for survival, more of a chance for a future. And image of Josiah touching her with those pale hands ripped through his head, and he held back a shudder of hate. Seeing her in his arms would be better than seeing her dead.
“I think I’ll send Celia back to your cell with you,” Josiah said. “I’ll be visiting with your friend. I’ll let you know if I like her as much as you seem to.”
Jerred forced himself to hold still. Josiah stood slowly and walked around the table. He walked up to him and leaned in close, whispering in Jerred’s ear.
“Does she like it up the ass?” he asked softly. “She looks like she might. I hope you’ve broken her in well, because I like it rough.”
Jerred closed his eyes, concentrating on his breath. In and out. Think of something else.
Josiah laughed deep and low in his throat, and then walked away. The guards came up and grasped his upper arms, roughly pulling him to his feet and out the door.
He could hear Celia following behind them, talking quickly.
“I want you to turn the lights down and bring me a torch,” she said.
“That’s a security risk,” one of the guards said. “You’ll have to make due with the lighting in the room.”
“Just having me here is a security risk,” she whined. Jerred winced. How had this woman ever been one of his favorites? She seemed so nasty compared to Giselle. Always wheedling and using her wiles to get what she wanted.
Giselle was open and honest.
He liked that about her.
When they got back to his room, they thrust him down on his cot roughly.
“Tie his arms and legs,” Celia said. “I don’t want him moving too much. And I don’t want him to be able to get at me again. I have plans for him.”
They laughed, and rolled him over on his back. He thought about fighting, but there didn’t seem to be much point. It was better to conserve his strength for when he’d need it. If he had a chance to escape, he wanted to be ready. Although how he would manage to escape and rescue Giselle was beyond him at this point. One thing was utterly clear, though. He wasn’t leaving without her.
Within seconds they had both his legs and arms secured. Celia sauntered over toward him, and he suddenly remembered why he had liked her so much. With her fully, pouty lips and her dusky skin, she had the power to arouse any man. Physically she was stunning. If only her eyes weren’t quite so hard…
The fleeting attraction faded. He wanted Giselle , with her fair skin and her silly little freckles.
Celia leaned in closer and smiled in what he imagined was supposed to be seductive manner. He watched her with something close to indifference, even as she reached a hand down to cup him through his pants. His c**k hardened, but he felt strangely detached. Her body called to his on a purely physical level. He didn’t want her —she disgusted him. Her fingers massaged him slowly. He shook his head, and spoke.
“I don’t want to do this with you, Celia,” he said slowly. “You’re a beautiful woman, but this is wrong.
You shouldn’t touch someone who doesn’t want to be touched.”
“Oh, really?” she asked, her voice low and husky. “You say you don’t want to be touched, but your c**k is telling me something else. You’re hard for me.”
“It’s a physical response,” he replied. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
“I’ll tell you what,” she replied. “You go ahead and keep telling yourself that. I’ll go ahead and touch you for a while. Then you can make your decision.”
He shook his head again, but she ignored him, opting to kneel on the floor and slowly unclasp his shirt.
He’d expected her to go straight for his cock, but she was too smart for that. Instead she started massaging his taut legs. He tensed, trying to keep her from getting to him. But her fingers felt good. They dug into his muscles, and he realized just how tense he’d gotten.
Her fingers dug into his tight muscles, and he felt himself relaxing. She was devious all right. She knew that if she went straight to his c**k he’d be strong. But this sense of relaxation, this cool peace that washed over him—that was sensuality on a different level. He closed his eyes, trying to think of something else. All he could think of was her touch and how good it felt.
Then she leaned forward over him and he felt a tingle of sensation as her hair brushed against him. Her lips touched his chest and he gasped. She nibbled at him, occasionally letting her tongue flick out to touch him, but mostly nipping him with her lips. She came close to his nipple several times, but always pulled away, teasing him. His ni**les hardened, and he sucked in a deep breath. It wasn’t supposed to be this way—he didn’t want to respond to her. His own weakness disgusted him, but it did nothing to stop his reaction to her touch.
Witch.