front of a set of doors so suddenly that I ran into him from behind, because I wasn't paying attention.
I may have gotten my wish to have my face buried in his hair, but it wasn't exactly the way I'd had in mind, and I didn't even have the presence of mind to grab his buns to keep from falling!
"I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed. "I didn't mean to—"
Turning, he put a hand on my shoulder to steady me.
"There is no need for you to apologize."
"But—"
"I am a slave," he said quietly, "and though I have rarely been mistreated, my feelings are seldom considered."
"Well, I can't not consider them, just because you're a slave!" I protested vehemently. "You're—you're a living, breathing, thinking being! I can't just ignore your feelings!"
He regarded me for a moment with a thoughtful expression and then said, "I believe you mean that."
"Well, of course I do!" I exclaimed. "This is all just so—so weird! Slavery doesn't even exist on my planet!
It isn't something I've ever dealt with before." I realized then that it had been a mistake to let myself get so upset.
Breathing hard and feeling stranger by the second, I gasped, "And what the hell is your name?"
I didn't faint, exactly, but I came pretty close, for the corridor darkened just then, and I began seeing spots where moments before there had been none.
Slipping an arm around my waist for support and pushing the door open, he said, "You need to lie down.
The heat is affecting your brain."
"Oh, is that what it is?" I mumbled. "Funny, I thought it was you."
It was dark in my room—if this was my room— and I couldn't see his face very well, but I heard him chuckle softly.
"What's so funny?" I demanded.
" You are," he replied.
"You know something? You don't act like a slave. I mean, slaves aren't supposed to laugh at their masters, or flirt with the ladies, are they?"
"I was not born a slave," he said. "Perhaps that's why I behave differently."
"Really?" I murmured. "How did you end up here, then?"
"At the end of the war in which my planet was destroyed, several members of my unit were taken prisoner. We were to be executed, but an enterprising fellow thought he could make a few credits by selling us, instead. My brother Trag and I were lucky enough to be bought by Scalia."
"Lucky?"
He laid me down on the bed before answering me.
It wasn't made of stone, and it even had sheets on it— sheets that felt smooth, almost like satin. Rolling onto my side, I sighed with relief. Now if I could just get some more water...
"We are both still alive," he said, "and slaves are seldom treated as well as we have been."
"Well, if you don't mind wearing nothing but a collar." I thought for a moment and added, "Make that two collars."
He laughed again, saying: "We prefer it that way.
We don't like to wear clothing any more than the Darconians do."
"Mm-hm," I murmured. "Well, you look very nice without it. Some guys wouldn't."
"Thank you."
He was so close that I could feel the heat radiating from his body and his breath, warm on my cheek. His lips couldn't have been very far away, either—his full, succulent, kissable lips. My own lips tingled with anticipation; I wanted to kiss him so badly... I had to change the subject before I did something stupid.
Clearing my throat with an effort, I said, "So, you're going to look after me, then? Wash my socks and comb my hair?"
"I'll do anything you wish for me to do," he said.
"Anything at all."
"You shouldn't say that," I warned him. "You might not like what I wish for."
"I doubt that," he said, his amusement evident in his voice. Obviously, he didn't consider my "wishes" to be much of a threat.
"What do you wish for?" I asked curiously. "Freedom?"
"I have wished for that in the past," he replied thoughtfully. "But now, I'm looking forward to serving you in any way I can."
Give up the chance for freedom to serve a woman?
That didn't sound like anything a man had ever said to me before, regardless of what planet he