Rogue by Cheryl Brooks Read Free Book Online Page B

hailed from— though, of course, I'd never met a slave. "Aw, you're making that up," I protested.
    "No," he said, his voice deepening slightly. "Aside from freedom, my life here has lacked only one thing."
    "And that is?"
    With his reply, his voice dropped a full octave, sending tendrils of desire curling around my heart. "Love,"
    he replied. "And I believe you are the one who will change that."
    "Me?" I gasped. He might have been suggesting the very thing I'd had on my mind ever since laying eyes on him, but at the same time, the idea scared me a little. I'm such a wuss... "B-but I might not stay long here long," I sputtered. "I may not be able to tolerate the heat, the Princess might not be able to play a note on the piano—anything could happen!" I paused, groping blindly for some plausible excuse. "And, besides, I wouldn't want to be the one to break your heart.
    You know me: old love 'em and leave 'em Kyra!"
    This was an out-and-out lie, and, if his chuckle was any indication, he knew it. He was so close that the soft glow of his eyes shone right into mine. "Go ahead and do it, Kyra," he urged in a deep, rough voice. "Break my heart."
    What I saw in his eyes scared me even more. It wasn't just passion or desire, it was hunger: a desperate, all-consuming hunger.
    "You want me to break your heart?" I whispered nervously.
    "Loving you would be worth a broken heart."
    I wasn't sure, but I had an idea he could stomp the hell out of mine, and it would be worth the pain. Perhaps he was desperate enough to feel the same way.
    "The men of my world were warriors out of necessity," he went on, "but we were made for love. It is our purpose—one which has been denied throughout the years of our enslavement. The Darconian women may find us attractive, but their scent doesn't arouse us, and if the scent of a woman's desire is not present, we cannot mate."
    "That's odd," I croaked. "Human men can mate with"—I paused for a moment to think about that, before adding,—"anything."
    "Is that so?" he said with surprise. "We cannot. Our women were always very reluctant, and to bring out the scent of their desire, we had to... entice them."
    Swallowing hard, I said glibly, "Well, if you don't mind my saying so, I think you got it right; you guys are irresistible." I saw a change of topic and grabbed it like a lifeline. "So, are there any of your women left?"
    "Perhaps," he replied with a shrug, "but our enemies were very thorough."
    "Jealous husbands?" I suggested.
    "Maybe," he said. The glow in his eyes increased again. "Tell me, Kyra: would your husband be jealous of me?"
    I had an idea that any husband I might have had would have killed him just for looking at me like that.
    "He might—if I had a husband, that is." The tension broke then, and I dissolved into giggles. "'Once you go cat, you never go back,'" I chanted. I was getting downright goofy—it must have been the wine, or the heat, or something—but suddenly, more than anything in the world, I wanted him lying there beside me. The Darconians weren't the only ones who liked a warm body to sleep with—and his was one of only three warm bodies within dozens of light-years, including my own.
    It struck me then just how alone I was. The Darconians were far more fearsome than he and his brother could ever be, and that realization gave me the courage to say something I ordinarily wouldn't have. "Would you lie down with me?" I asked. "Just for a little while."
    Obviously, he really would do anything I asked of him, because the bed promptly dipped beneath his weight as he settled in behind me. Within seconds, the heat of his body sent blood rushing to my erogenous zones like a flood. I tried to focus on something—anything—else. It was strange to think that a short while ago, I hadn't even known he existed, and now, here he was in my bed with his arm draped over me, and I still didn't know his name.
    "You look like a Siberian tiger," I said impulsively.
    "Tiger?" he echoed