Gena Showalter Bundle. Gena Showalter

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hit home, and Katie cringed. He didn’t deserve this. He just wanted to go home. Jorlan must think she suffered from permanent PMS. Maybe that was why he hadn’t touched her these last few days. He was afraid she’d attack and kill him in his sleep. Sighing, she turned down the radio. “Pull over,” she told him.

      “Nay.” The word emerged like the bark of a caged animal.

      “Pull over. I’ll drive us there.”

      His chin snapped around. He faced her hopefully. “You speak true?”

      “Yes, damn it. Now pull over.”

      He would have stopped right there in the middle of the road, so great was his relief. She pointed to the side. “Don’t stop here. Stop over there.” Once at a halt, they quickly switched places.

      “You really owe me for this,” she muttered.

      “I can very easily pay you once we arrive. I need only a bed and five minutes of your time.” The teasing sparkle was back in his eyes, and only then did she realize how much she’d missed it.

      “Five minutes?”

      “Nay. I have changed my mind.” His lips twitched. “I only need two.”

      Katie shook her head and turned them in the right direction. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

      “Aye. I know.”

      And she liked him that way.

      They drove in silence for about twenty miles, the soft hum of the radio the only noise. Katie felt Jorlan’s body heat, keeping her mind in the gutter. Perhaps she was, by nature, more sensual than she’d realized. Or perhaps she was simply carnally addicted to Jorlan, because her brain began to weave ribbons of fantasy through her mind. She saw it all so clearly. Jorlan would scoot closer beside her and trail his hand up her thigh, making her shiver and ache for more. His eyes would devour her as he whispered a provocation she could not ignore. I dare you to experience your ultimate pleasure, katya. And she would. Oh, she would. The hot tips of his fingers would push aside her panties and slip easily inside. He would stroke her then, first with leisurely slowness, like a deliberate brush of velvet across steel, then with eager swiftness.

      Perhaps he would take his fingers from her and place them in his mouth, as if he couldn’t live another moment without knowing the taste of her.

      “Katie?”

      The voice was real, not part of her fantasy, and she jolted into awareness. “What!”

      “Do you purposefully drive like this?”

      “Oh, God!” Amid honks and flashing middle fingers, she jerked the truck off the median and into the proper lane. She took a moment to collect her wits, slow her breathing and control her shaking—shaking that had nothing to do with bad driving. Lord, she wanted to explore his body, wanted to allow him to explore hers. She wanted to feel the hard ripples of his muscles, the smooth silkiness of his skin.

      “What were you thinking about?” he asked.

      Swallowing hard, she forced her attention to remain on the road. “I just can’t believe we’re doing this. Were you this impulsive at home?”

      “Nay.” He offered no more information. “What is this place like we are going?”

      “Pretty much the same as Dallas.” She had to keep him talking, had to keep herself distracted. “You know, you’ve told me about your family, but nothing really substantial about your world. What are the differences between Imperia and Earth, besides the fact that all of your women are slaves?”

      He took exception to that. “Women are not slaves on Imperia. They are merely the responsibility of their men.”

      She smiled at his set look. “There’s a difference?”

      “Aye. A slave must obey his or her master at all times.” He emphasized male slave to the point that the word his echoed in her ears long after he’d spoken. “They have no rights of their own. Ever. But a woman under a man’s protection is allowed to voice her opinion.”

      “As long as her opinion isn’t different from her man’s, right?”

      “Not in public, nay.”

      “Then there is no difference between a slave and a protected woman.”

      He sat up straighter in his seat, a clear indication he didn’t like the direction of her thoughts. “Do you purposely misunderstand? A woman is respected. Revered, even. A slave is nothing more than a possession, to be discarded at will.”

      “Discarded? Just what the hell does that mean?”

      “Just that the slave may be given or sold to another. I did not say I applauded the practice. Just that ’tis the way it is done. You will be happy to know I am beginning to see that not all women should be or need be taken care of.”

      Before she could reply to such a wonderful statement, the truck swirled and a loud “pop” rang out. Heart racing, Katie quickly pulled over to the side of the road.

      “What is wrong?” Jorlan demanded.

      “Flat tire, I think.”

      That’s exactly what it was. A little less than forty minutes later, she had the tire changed. She could have done it in half the time if Jorlan had stayed inside the truck as she’d asked him to. But noooo. The barbarian had to stand over her shoulder, offering his opinion about everything!

      “Are you sure that goes there?” he had asked. “I would put it here.”

      “I’m sure.”

      “Are you positive the truck will not flip over? That metal object is holding it at an incline. I would raise the truck from the middle.”

      “I’m sure you would.”

      “Are you turning the—”

      “I’m sure! I’m sure! I’m sure!”

      He began chanting something under his breath.

      The flat tire exploded.

      A strong blast of air and rubber sent her reeling backward. Jorlan loomed over her. He didn’t look concerned for her, though. No, he was frowning down at the slain tire as if it were deadly poison.

      “What did you do?” Katie demanded, jumping to her feet. Her pulse had yet to slow.

      “A spell,” he grudgingly admitted. “I’d hoped to help you.”

      “For God’s sake, never help me again!”

      “Not even to wipe the black soot from your face?”

      “Not even then!” Her nerves were on edge when they got back on the road a short while later. She was dirty and sweaty and hungry. Worse, she was dismayed. Katie didn’t like that Jorlan had watched her do so unfeminine a task. What man desired a woman who could beat him at sports, change her own tire, and kick his ass in a fight? No one,

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