did my lady come here?”
“To make a long story short, Damon gave me a ride.”
Zeka gasped. “But the royal family never—”
“Zeka,” Maltese said reprovingly. “What our good brother does is none of our concern…usually.”
“Forgive, my good prince.”
When she turned back, Damon was shooing his brothers away with helpful punches to their shoulders. She opened her mouth but he cupped her chin in one hand, effortlessly stifling her outburst. “I believe I requested you stay in the courtyard,” he said solemnly, but his eyes crinkled at the corners in a friendly way.
“What am I, your dog? ‘Sit, Lois. Stay.’ Shyeah! Besides, I don’t like being left by myself,” she added in a grumble.
“Then I shall endeavor to be at your side at all times.”
“Uh—that’s not exactly what I—”
“Lois! My good son!”
“Just a minute, we’re talking. Jeez, sick people, I swear to God. Now, listen, Damon, I gotta figure out about a zillion things, here, like where I’m gonna stay, and—”
“With me.”
“Uh. Okay, that’s very nice and all, but—”
“Put her in the chambers beside mine,” the king called.
Lois thought that was awfully nice of him, but the effect on Damon was dramatic: his eyes went narrow and flinty and he actually snarled, snarled, like one big pissed-off cat. Puma. Whatever.
He spun around and stalked back to the king’s bed. “What be you thinking, my good king who will be my dead king if he tries to take my prize?”
“Peace, my son. The lady needs a chamber appropriate to her station…whatever that will be. And we have agreed those rooms would suit that station, yes?”
“Uh…yes.”
“Those rooms have been empty too long. As to the other matter,” the old king added coolly, a tone that caused Damon to flush and drop his eyes, “I have not decided.”
“What? What does that mean? What’s everyone talking about? Can I get a translator or something? Hey, get your ass back in bed!” She walked over and gave the king a gentle push. He seized her arm with surprising strength, and Lois found herself pulled forward onto the king’s giant bed, with an old man who was as strong as an ox staring right into her eyes. “Listen, buster, I’m all for respecting your elders, but you’ve got about half a second to—”
“Peace, Lady Lois. I only wished to catch the full effect of your scent.” He sniffed her hair. “Feh! You smell much like my yetch, despite your washup. Damon, see that she gets a proper bath. Lois, when you are clean, come back and tell me more of your world. I wish to hear more about ‘the IA pricks and the dumb-ass political games.’”
“After you eat your soup,” she said firmly.
“The child knows our station and yet dares to give the king orders! Well, ’twould not kill me to obey, instead of being obeyed. It will be as you wish, Lois. But you must stay for a long time and tell many stories.”
Despite Damon’s frown, she agreed.
Chapter 5
“Damn!”
“Is something wrong?”
“Hardly.” Lois stared at the bathing room. It was about half the size of the king’s chambers, which meant it was the largest bathroom in the galaxy. Instead of a tub, there was a pool in the middle of the room, and from the perfume in the air, it was more of that delicious bathing water Zeka had poured for her. Big bunches of white flowers—the blooms were as big as her fist—floated in the pool. They looked like fluffy orchids. There were several marble countertops scattered about the room, and two people were getting massages.
“May I bathe with you, Lady Lois?”
“Uh—” No way. Buzz off. I usually take baths by myself. I doubt I’ll be able to keep my hands off you, so for your own safety… “Sure.” Given that there were at least half a dozen people in the room, she wasn’t worried about her virtue—not that she had any to worry about. Besides, he’d opened up his home to her, and she would have a place to sleep, at least for tonight. To refuse—especially when this society seemed so open about public nudity—would be churlish, to say the least.
Still, it wasn’t every day she stripped in front of strangers.
She got out of her robe as quickly as possible, tossed it on a countertop, and stepped down into the pool. She heard a gasp of appreciation behind her and rolled her eyes. What was it with these people? They clearly had her confused with Pamela Anderson.
The water was deliciously warm, and she sank into it up to her chin. She couldn’t help groaning appreciatively as the perfumed water soothed her all over. “Oh, man, this is the life.”
“Indeed.”
She whipped around; Damon had managed to come up right behind her without her hearing him. “Jeez, don’t do that! I swear I’m hanging a bell around your neck.”
He smiled at her and plucked a flower out of the water. “If it pleases you. Now, you will allow me…?”
She cautiously approached him, and he plunked the flower on top of her head. While his fingers were busily working through her hair, she realized the flower’s petals were disintegrating into a kind of soap.
His fingers were marvelously strong, and she resisted the urge to melt against him. This was probably the best day of her life—and she’d been here only three hours! She knew she should be fretting—she’d started the day planning to be dead, after all. She knew she should be thinking about how to get home, or at least worrying about her future. This place couldn’t be as great as it seemed. It just couldn’t. But all she wanted to do was let Damon rub her all over, then take a nap.
“You are sooooooo good at that.”
“Thank you. It is a true pleasure to attend to my lady’s needs.” Now he was washing her breasts, working the sudsy petals all over her skin, paying special care to her nipples, which instantly swelled and started to ache.
What’s wrong with me? I’m letting a stranger feel me up in a public bathhouse! And it feels really, really good.
She batted his hands away, and he obligingly drew her closer and began working the suds into her back. She was pressed against his broad chest and could feel his erect length pressing into her stomach.
Thank goodness it’s a public bath, or who knows what I’d let this guy do.
“Um.” She turned her face so her cheek was resting against his nipple. It was either that, or give in to the urge to lick it. “Thanks for letting me stay here. I s’pose I should figure out where to go tomorrow, or at least—”
“Later,”
