Korven's Fire: Dragon Prince of Wye Page 5

  “Adelle, excellent,” he said, shoving a tray of little shot glasses filled with a green soup toward her. “This can go out now.”

  “What do I do?” she asked, staggering under the surprising weight of the tray.

  Mr. Wardarms sighed dramatically. “Did Fresa go over nothing?”

  “She stressed the importance of the uniform.”

  “The Prince wishes to be served buffet style this evening. Put the soup on the buffet, clear off any dirty dishes and bring it back. Got it?”

  “So formal informal dinner?” Rich people made no sense.

  “Just do it. None of your smart mouth, either.”

  In the dining room, a long table was set up in the center of the room. There were no chairs. Everything about the room, from the real wood paneling to the lush carpeting to the tasteful lighting shouted money. None more so than Prince Ragnar. He and his guests milled about the room, sipping expensive wine and admiring the view. The guests, a mix of Terran, Talmar and Gyer, were as ornamental as the lux furnishing. All the guests wore formal outfits worth more credits that Adelle could ever hope to earn.

  Adelle briefly wondered that none were Wyer, only Ragnar and his staff. Then she recalled the Captain’s words about isolated Wye and the Queen indulging her favorite grandson. Ragnar had the luxury to satisfy his wanderlust and tour the galaxy.

  The nebula dominated the view from the window. Vivid blue clouds circled around a dark middle with a faint blue star in the center. Black streaked through the clouds, giving the illusion of a human iris. Violent red clouds swirled around the blue, turning the eye otherworldly. Celestial. It was very much like looking into the eye of god.

  “We call it the Eye of the Celestial Mother,” Korven said, joining her at the window. “My people discovered it very soon after we developed the ability to study the stars. It was the first destination when we traveled off the planet.”

  Adelle cocked her head to the side. If the black circle in center was a pupil, it was not a Wyer eye. They had vertical slits, like the Talmar. Humans and Fremm had round pupils. Interesting. “It’s lovely,” she said, rather than question how Korven’s people looked to heaven and saw their goddess looking back at them when her eye was so very different. “It’s really breathtaking.”

  “As are you.”

  Adelle did not have to turn to recognize the hunger in his eyes. Korven only had two expressions when he looked at her: angry and hungry. And hungry was terrifying, like he was a predator moments from eating her whole.

  “What’s the deal with the uniform,” she said, desperate to change the subject. “I can’t lift my arms.”

  “Wyer tradition. If your servants can not raise their arms, they can not stab you in the back.”

  “Wye must be a pretty brutal place if you have to worry about servants attacking you.”

  “It is a tradition. I’m not sure how relevant it is nowadays.”

  And there was nothing to stop a disgruntled employee from slitting noble throats while they slept but Adelle did not mention it. “Is it comfortable with your shoulders?” The restrictive fabric made her back ache. She couldn’t imagine how it felt for Korven and his… whatever was going on with his shoulders.

  Korven raised an eyebrow. “I am, technically, nobility, and above suspicion of assassination.”

  “Seems to me those are exactly the people you should suspect.”

  The smallest hint of a smile flickered across his face.

  Prince Ragnar joined them, framing Adelle between the two tall alien males. “The Eye of the Celestial Mother is stunning, yes?”

  His tone was warm and amiable. Adelle could easily forget he was a prince and her boss. “It’s amazing,” she agreed.

  “Many consider it a blessing to make love under the Mother’s gaze. Any child conceived will be graced with her favor.”

  Two things happened at once. Adelle blushed a deep, furious red and Korven growled. He actually growled and pulled Adelle back, shoving himself between her and the prince. Stunned, she didn’t resist. “What are you doing,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

  “What are you doing, cousin?” Ragnar asked, taking a sip of the golden wine from the fluted glass. “I’m merely discussing cultural beliefs.”

  “Looking for a cultural exchange?” His tone implied it was not an exchange of cultural beliefs that enraged him. It was her. It was Ragnar talking to her that bothered him. What was his deal? Was she not good enough to talk to the prince? Was he afraid her commonness would rub off on Ragnar? That he could catch a case of the peasants? What an unmitigated asshole.

  “I’m sure Mrs. Wardarms is looking for me,” Adelle said, pulling away from the confrontation.

  “Adelle, wait,” Korven called after her.

  Nope. She had zero time for whatever that was between them. Korven didn’t want Ragnar flirting with her. Fine. She didn’t want her boss’s attention. Or his. She just wanted to keep her head down, work hard, and keep her job.

  The evening passed in a blur of trays laden with drinks and plates of the best smelling food. Whenever she was certain no one was watching, Adelle would finish off the last glass of wine and exchange the emptied tray for a fresh one. Can’t return a partially filled tray, after all. She managed a few sneaky bites in the kitchen before Mr. Wardarms pushed another tray toward her. There were only ten guests on the yacht. How much could they eat? Apparently tiny portion sizes were the height of fashion and each bite sized morsel required its own serving dish. Rich people were crazy.

  Speaking of crazy, every time one of the guests tried to speak with her, Korven inserted himself into the conversation. Not that he conversed. He growled and frowned and was generally an ass. Adelle did notice this only happened with the male guests. Females were allowed to talk to her, apparently.

  Feet tired and back aching, Mrs. Wardarms declared Adelle finished for the night and parked the tired mechanic in front of a generous platter of the tiny food and a bottle of wine. Each bite was amazing. The wine was better now that she didn’t have to shotgun it down and could take her time and actually savor it. It was like liquid sunshine and spice. Perfect.

  Content and well feed, not even Korven joining her at the tiny table could sour her mood.

  He had his own platter of tiny food and a bottle of expensive wine. She didn’t want to know how expensive. More than her salary, no doubt. Still, the price tag didn’t stop her from refilling her glass with his bottle.

  Maybe she was little drunk. The watered down beer she could afford wasn’t enough to get smashed with short of spending a fortune and she didn’t have a fortune to squander on booze. The sad truth was that Adelle was a lightweight and the wine went straight to her head.

  “So what’s this,” she said, waving her hand between them.

  “Food. Wine.”

  “No, this thing between us.” More hand waving. “You’re acting weird tonight.”

  “I am the same as I have always been.” His angry expression settled over his face. Good, that was better than hungry, because if he gave her that hungry look, she was just drunk enough to jump on him and rip his clothes off. Lick and kiss and suck the hungry/angry look off his handsome face.

  A familiar ache settled between her thighs and she squirmed. She knew she was drunk because all she wanted to do was make out with Korven, which was a bad idea, but she was having a hard time remembering exactly why it was a bad idea.

  “No, this is different. Possessive.”

  “I did not like the way the males looked at you.”

  “All of them?”

  “Yes! All of them. You are mine.” His hand slammed down on the table, rattling the plates and causing Adelle to jump.

  “You’re not my boyfriend and I’m not property,” she said calmly.

  “You work for—”

  “Prince Ragnar. Not you.”

  A sour expression settled on Korven’s face. “I got you this job.”

  “So what? I owe you? Is that it? Y
ou think I owe you something?” Her voice climbed in volume and pitch. She was doing a piss poor job of staying calm.

  His jaw clenched and unclenched. Yeah, this was going nowhere fast.

  “For crying out loud,” Adelle said, standing up from the table. Swaying slightly, she grabbed the edge to steady herself. “If you’re attracted to me, just say so. This school-yard pulling-pigtails bullshit is bullshit.”

  “I have pulled nothing.”

  She rolled her eyes. “The macho not letting anyone talk to me. That’s what I mean. If you’re attracted to me, say so.” She took a deep breath. “Because I’m attracted to you.”

  His eyes flashed. Hungry. Oh so hungry.

  Adelle had just poked a sleeping dragon and now its reptilian green eyes were focused on her. A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine and the ache between her thighs increased. What was wrong with her? She should be terrified, not turned on.

  “Would you share my nest with me?” he asked, voice low and menacing. The tone promised he would savage her frail human form but the question was almost sweet. Considerate.

  “I’m not interested in sharing.” Unless sharing a nest was code for sex. Wait. The gears in her alcohol addled brain turned slowly. That was code for sex.

  Korven frowned. “You are too drunk to be alone tonight.”

  “You saying I should spend the night with you?” She tried to give a seductive smile but ended up giggling. Seductive smiling was not easy. How did Korven manage to give the slightest hint of a smile that also was panty-meltingly hot? Not fair.

  “I’m saying you shouldn’t be alone. Come on.” He took her hand and pulled her away from the table. The room spun. Yeah, too much expensive wine and tiny food. How could she eat enough to soak up the booze when the portions were so small? That was poor planning on the cook’s part.

  An arm swept behind her thighs and Korven lifted her up like she weighed nothing. “That’s hot,” she blurted out. Embarrassed, she buried her face in the stiff brocade of his coat. After a long night of work, the masculine scents of warm spice managed to cling to him. And he was warm. Like really, really warm. Tense muscles relaxed. It should not be this comfortable being carried like an invalid, or snug or secure.

  Korven didn’t play fair at all.

  Korven

  “Fancy,” Adelle slurred as Korven set on the edge of his bed. Her head swiveled as she took in his cabin. “Why’d you get such a fancy room?”

  “Family connections.” It really wasn’t that impressive, not compared to Ragnar’s suit or the other rooms on the yacht. She dashed off the bed for the cleansing room. “Oh my god, you have a full sized shower!”

  “Yes.” He could not physically fit into anything smaller.

  “I’m gonna totally use your shower from now on. Mine is tiny. And you have a window!”

  He took her by the hand and led her back to the bed. “We need to rest.”

  She frowned, teeth biting into her lower lip. “We’re going to regret this in the morning, huh?”

  “Share my nest. Sleep.”

  She giggled then, the sweet sound bubbling out of her. She threw her arms around his neck and snuggled into him. “You are so warm. Like no one has a right to be this warm.”

  “My people are warm blooded.” But the Fever raised his temperature. The fire in his blood burned. Her soft form pressed against him, smiling and giggling and tempting him, did not help.

  He had control still. He was the master of his form. “Sleep, Adelle.”

  She tilted her head back, large blue eyes looking up at him. “Maybe I’m not sleepy. Maybe I want to share your nest.”

  A taste couldn’t hurt. His mind was his own. He had control. Ragnar would pummel him if he caught wind of Korven talking himself into temptation, but the prince didn’t need to know everything that happened on the yacht.

  He nuzzled her neck, inhaling deeply. Then he licked her skin, his rough tongue gliding over her soft skin. She squirmed and pressed her chest against his, hardened nipples poking through the thin material of the blouse. It was pretty obvious what she meant when she offered to share his nest and sleep wasn’t it. And she was just drunk enough to think it a good idea.

  Korven sighed, pulling away. As much as he wanted Adelle, longed to sink his cock into her wet heat, he would not take her drunk. “Just sleep, Adelle.”

  A wounded look flashed in her eyes. “Just sleep,” she agreed, but her disappointment was obvious. “We’re too drunk to be sharing anything.”

  He climbed into the sleeping pod and pulled her in. Fully dressed with the aroma of the kitchen still clinging to the cloth, she curled up alongside of him. His arms wrapped around her. He wanted to share his nest. It was more than sex, though. She felt right beside him. Correct. Like she belonged to him. He wanted to share his nest this night, the next night and every night for the rest of their lives. He wanted to possess her completely and it was more than the Fever urging him to claim a mate. She called to him. She was his mate. There could be no other.

  His parents would not be happy. They had a list of appropriate females from good families waiting for him when he returned. The thought of selecting a high-born, well-bred daughter from a noble house turned his stomach. Adelle was his mate. There was no other.

  The vulgar, foul tempered mechanic was as far from an appropriate mate as he could get. She was perfect for him. Made for him. His.

  His arms tightened around her, reaching a decision. He shifted to look at her face, his eyes held her own clear blue gaze. “Should I build us a nest?”

  “Aren’t we in your nest now?” Exhaustion crept into her voice.

  “But do you want me to build us a nest?” He would. The finest nest. A spaceport, new and modern with every tool she could ever want and an endless supply of machines to tinker with. The fire in his blood burned happily, picturing his noble wife with grease smudged on her cheek and tearing into some poor soul about proper maintenance.

  She wiggled out a hand and patted his arm. “Sure. Why not?”

  He lowered his head back to her neck and chuffed, satisfied.

  Chapter Eight

  Adelle

  Everything was too loud. And bright.

  Adelle lurched out of the bed, nausea sweeping over her. She dashed to the cleansing room.

  Stomach empty and mouth rinsed, she returned to Korven’s cabin. She should be embarrassed but her head hurt too much for embarrassment.

  “How much did I drink?” She rubbed the sensitive spot between her eyes. Sensitive? Throbbing. Her eyes were throbbing.

  “Enough.”

  Korven sprawled out on the bed, the hungry look back. He still wore the uniform from last night. Adelle looked down. She still wore her uniform. Relief swept through her. They drank but didn’t… share a nest? Why did that tickle a memory?

  “Why am I here?”

  “Too drunk to make it to your cabin.”

  “Well, I’m sober now. Hand me the coat, please, and I’ll get the walk of shame over with.” It didn’t matter what happened between them last night, fully clothed or not, if Widget caught her sneaking out of Korven’s cabin, she’d never live it down.

  “That coat?” Korven pointed to the black mass on the floor.

  “Yes. Give it to me. Please.”

  The hungry look intensified. “It’s on the floor. Just bend over and pick it up.”

  Ugh. Bending over would send another wave of nausea through her and there wasn’t much left in her stomach. “I’d rather not. Be a gentleman.”

  “What if I’d rather watch your sweet ass while you bent over?”

  A blush overtook her and he chuckled. Chuckled. That rat bastard, tormenting her like that. “Fine. Keep it. I’m sure Mrs. Wardarms has dozens of them.”

  The floor lurched. Nausea rolled in her stomach. Belatedly, Adelle realized it wasn’t her that was moving, it was the ship.

  “What’s going on?” she asked. Inertia dampers should stabilize the ship and prevent l
urching, unless they broke during the night. She needed to get to engineering and fix it before something vital broke, like the anti-grav. Wobbling through space, floating. Nope. Not her idea of a good time.

  Another lurch, this one knocking her forward into Korven. His arms wrapped around her, an unsaid promise to care for her. It’d be sweet if she wasn't so damn afraid of being sick all over him.

  The door chimed and Olver rushed in. “Your Highness, there’s a situation.”

  Korven sat up at attention immediately. “Report.”

  “We’re under attack and will be boarded in approximately four minutes. Pirates are here to ransom the prince.”

  A large explosion sounded. The floor rocked. “Three minutes,” Olver amended. “You must use the pod.”

  Olver grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door. “We can get you to a safe room, Adelle. They’re not interested in Terrans.”

  Korven snatched her back, growling. “She stays with me.”

  “Your Highness, if something happens to her—”

  “With. Me.” No room for negotiations in his tone.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Korven stretched back down on the bed, holding Adelle to his chest.

  “I don’t understand what’s going on. If the ship’s taken damage, I need to repair it.”

  More growling.

  Olver stood over the bed and hit buttons on a control panel. An enclosure slid over the bed, trapping them inside. The bed was an escape pod. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Too drunk, the answer came through her pounding headache. Too drunk to notice an escape pod or how much nicer Korven’s cabin was than her own. Or that Olver called him “your highness.” Korven was the cousin of Prince Ragnar; perhaps he had a little title of his own?

  “I’ve programmed the pod to go to the next habitable planet. You will detach from the ship and drift with the debris. When you are out of sensor range, the thruster will engage,” Olver said.