Page 23 of Hunting the Warlord's Daughter

“I won’t keep her in the dark,” he argued.

“You’d be the first person tonotkeep me in the dark.” Awrenkka’s vivid eyes bored into him. “What do you mean, exactly, by married?”

“I’m legally your husband.”

Kaz shot him a withering look.

“All right. Not completely, one hundred percent legal. But close enough. No one will contest it.”

“Icontest it.” Awrenkka thumped her hand against her chest, camp dust puffing from her robes. “I do.” She cast her gaze around the ship with the urgency of a trapped animal. Her reaction yanked at his heart, his skin crawling. “How can a marriage happen without the bride agreeing to it?”

“There is a provision in Imperial law that allows for a marriage-by-proxy. Plans were in the works for you to be brought to the palace for an official ceremony, but I kept putting it off. The wedding remained in a status of perpetual postponement for years. But, again, I—”

“My father knew of this? He allowed it? You were… much younger than the others.”

“He promised me your hand. I was his choice. His top battlelord.”

“Oh, I see. A handshake deal between the warlord and his crony.”

“Crony?” He threw off his harness and stood, his back to the flight console. Grabbing hold of her armrests, he leaned down. Even with his aggressive stance, she strained toward him against her harness, meeting him halfway. “Try traitor,” he said. “A traitor and a spy. The loyalists want my head almost as badly as the Triad wants yours. I helped bring down the Empire. I facilitated the warlord’s assassination. Every moment in his presence was spent plotting his demise.” He took a breath. “Which is not entirely proper to say, as he was your father.”

Her jaw moved back and forth. The fine hair at her temples was dark with sweat. “You hated him too.”

“To the depths of his gangrenous soul. My plan took time. Years. If you knew what I had to do to keep you safe. If you knew the things—”Your sins aren’t her concern.“Because of our marriage, none of the battlelords could have you.” Karbon couldn’t have her. “Now you’re here, and you’re safe.” And his mission was finally headed toward completion.

She yanked off her glasses as if to better see him. “Safe with a man who topples empires. Who arranges assassinations. Who takes a woman as his mate without her knowing.”

If I mate with you, Awrenkka, you’ll most certainly know,he almost said. Just barely, he kept the challenge from escaping his lips.

They remained nose to nose, her pupils dilated. A dare. He imagined yanking her out of her chair—her lush little mouth sealing over his. Carrying her to his bunk. Shoving her robes out of his way. Taking her—rough and hard. Her, urging him on. Hungry for him.

That would be mating.That.

Shuddering, he pushed upright, beating down the surge of lust.

She fell back in the chair, her skin shining with sweat as she re-donned her eyeglasses, fumbling to push them up the bridge of her nose.

Now you’ve done it, Aral.He’d allowed his frustration—and his baser urges—to best him, unsettling Awrenkka when he wanted no more than to gain her trust, and prove to them both he was nothing like Karbon. “By the fates, I do not intend to exercise my conjugal rights.”

“Yournotone hundred percent legal conjugal rights, you mean.” She glowered at him. “Just as well. There’szeropercent chance I’ll play the role of bride.”

Their statements hung in the air between them—a verbal divorce. He’d done dreadful things to earn the right to marry her. Yet as long as she cooperated with her part in taking possession of the treasure, they had not been completely in vain.

“He’s telling the truth.” Kaz rotated her chair to face Awrenkka, her elbows on the armrests, her index fingers forming a peak under her chin. “He never wanted to do you harm. Quite the opposite. He came home from your presentation completely besotted.”

“Besotted?” Awrenkka blinked.

Kaz’s lips curved. “Head over heels in love.”

“I was sixteen,” he said, and shot Kaz an exasperated glare. Fates help him, Kaz played the role of meddling little sister to perfection.

Awrenkka’s eyes went wide and swerved to his. When he met her breathtaking gaze, his face warmed. He was no better around her than he’d been at sixteen—a boy who had quite ridiculously fancied himself in love.

He stalked back to his pilot seat, hoping to the stars and back she hadn’t guessed he was still in love with her—or that their first argument as husband and wife had left him with a throbbing erection in the middle of a launch. “Kaz! Where is our clearance?”

“Working on it… Five more minutes, they say. We’re waiting on some inbound cargo traffic.”

Drumming his fingers on the armrests, he watched the chronometer on the navigation panel unwind. Five minutes would feel like a lifetime in the face of Awrenkka’s silence.

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