“Glorious, just glorious. She takes after her great-aunt, you know. She was Kevat’s consort before your grandfather beat him in challenge.”

Seth and his archchancellor stood in front of a large pane of one-way glass looking into the harem preparation chambers beyond, the man prattling away without apparent need for a reply from him. Behind them Seth’s manservant was busying himself at the refreshments table. Seth frowned, casting a quick glance over his shoulder as Warin set a water jug down heavily on the table, the crystal crashing against the highly polished surface. Something had obviously annoyed the man. He wasn’t usually so sharp with his movements. Most of the time Seth didn’t know he was there. Just as a servant should be.

“They said she was like the Kiare flower—delicately beautiful and utterly addictive. Your grandfather risked everything, even his marriage to your grandmother, to possess her.”

Seth nodded in reply, his arms folded over his chest as he watched through the window. On the other side, Jaida was surrounded by a flock of women, the robed servants fussing around her as they prepared her for his bed.

His cock hardened. Already he could see her spread across the black silk, all pale skin and dark-purple hair as she’d been that morning five years ago. Leaving her to attend yet another council meeting had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, with her lips still swollen from his kisses and the invitation in her eyes. Mindful of his duty, he’d gone, and as soon as the door had shut behind him, she’d fled.

Jaida was his Kiare flower.

Seth watched as the women stripped the scarlet robe from her body to leave her clad in the scarlet shift of a courtesan. A simple rectangle of cloth, it was folded and knotted around her slender curves, the traditional knot at her shoulder the key to the whole complex arrangement. Just one tug in the right place and she would be naked before him.

He shook himself out of his daze and refocused his attention on her as the women moved through their preparations. Her hip-length hair was brushed until it shone.

She’d already bathed, something Sethan had declined to watch even though he had a right to. He didn’t want to see her naked just yet…No, that was a lie. If he saw her naked, it was game over. He wouldn’t be able to control himself.

How he had held onto control during that little altercation in the hotel, he had no idea. He’d been giving serious consideration to handcuffing himself to the command chair on the bridge until the call came to inform him that Jaida was finished in the bathing rooms. With a last sweep of the brush through her hair and a spray of scent at her throat, the servants left her, and another woman entered the room.

“What happened to the great aunt? Jaida’s?” Seth’s attention was on his latest “acquisition” as she was inspected by the Mistress of the Harem, Keliana. His father’s lead courtesan, she had retired to the honor of her own bed on his father’s death and now oversaw Sethan’s harem.

“Huh?” The archchancellor blinked at Seth’s sudden question. “Oh…your grandfather made her his courtesan. She died a year later in childbirth. The only woman to ever give him a son…your uncle. Your grandfather never got over it. He forbade anyone to ever speak her name again and died less than a year after she did. Some said it was because he couldn’t let her go, even in death.”

Seth watched as the women inspected Jaida’s appearance. Bare toes peeked from under the silken hem as she stood motionless, her eyes fixed on the wall as she waited to be approved by the harem-mistress.

His breath caught in his throat. If Keliana didn’t approve, then Jaida would be returned to the harem for further “instruction” before being brought to his bed. Seth’s knuckles whitened. Jaida didn’t need any instruction other than his, but protocol was protocol.

Finally, after walking around the younger woman three times and saying nothing, Keliana nodded. As she did, she looked at the mirrored glass, her eyes full of amusement. The harem-mistress knew he was there, watching.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise. How he felt about Jaida was no secret. He’d pursued her across the galaxy for years, tracked her from planet to planet even when his advisors had told him to let it go, told him that after so long she had to be dead. But Seth couldn’t let it go, and wouldn’t believe she was gone. Something deep down inside had told him she was still alive, the same something that wouldn’t let him rest until he had her in his bed again.

His jaw set and he cut across the archchancellor’s words without hearing what the man was saying. “Whatever it is, I’ll take care of it in the morning. Convene the council for a noontime meeting. Until then I have some…unfinished business to take care of.”

* * *

The royal suite was empty. Jaida shivered as the doors closed with a heavy clunk behind her. Blast-proof steel and flexi-glass locked her in and cut off any hope of escape. Her bare feet padded soundlessly on the plush carpeting until she was standing in the center of the huge main room. Looking around, she felt lost, bereft of purpose.

The last five years had been about avoiding Seth and his agents, about staying as far away from anything from her old life as possible. It had cost her everything. A shudder ran from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She crammed the thoughts back into the locked room in her mind they’d escaped from and concentrated on the here and now. It was a trick she’d learned early on, barely eighteen and on her own in the galaxy with a bounty on her head. The pampered little rich girl she’d been had disappeared within a week, replaced with someone far harder and stronger.

She would survive this. She just had to take it one step at a time.

Filling her lungs with a deep, shuddering breath she started to explore, flitting from room to room like a wraith. The sheer luxury of the place astounded her. Her family was wealthy, and as a child she’d had the best of everything. But this…her eyes widened as she stood in front of the huge bed in the master bedroom and took in the sheer opulence. This was beyond luxury.

“Reconciling yourself to your fate?” a voice asked behind her, the tone silky and sardonic. She whirled around, the silk of her gown whispering around her legs.

Seth leaned in the doorway and watched her with a hard gaze. She hadn’t heard the door to the suite open or his steps as he approached. The heavily embroidered regalia of his rank was gone, and he was dressed like the commandos she’d seen as they brought her aboard, his personal guard.

Like them, he wore the unrelieved black of Sector Seven, only the two lines of silver piping at his collar indicating his royal blood. On his wrist was the stylized skull tattoo of the regiment, and as if she needed further evidence of his standing, his long hair was caught into a warrior’s queue.

She suppressed a shiver and backed up against the flowing drapes around the bedpost, a movement she regretted when Seth’s lips quirked.

“Still running Jaida? What did I tell you about that?” He pushed off from the door frame and walked toward her. “It’s not going to work. It’s never going to work.”

His steps were slow but deliberate as he stalked her, penning her in as she backed up around the bed. She tried to skirt around it, but there was nowhere to go. The bed was set against the wall between floor-to-ceiling windows that opened onto the stars themselves.

Gathering her courage, she stopped and lifted her chin in defiance. “You don’t scare me.”

Hopefully he wouldn’t misread the tremors that racked her body. It wasn’t a lie; she wasn’t scared of Seth. She was scared of her reaction, her lack of control where he was concerned.

She’d stopped running physically; however her heart needed more convincing. It hammered in her chest in a rapid tattoo, urging her to run, to get away. Instead she stood her ground.

He leaned down, the heat of his body beating through the thin silk of her gown. She flinched and her pulse fluttered like a trapped bird in her throat.

“Then you’re foolish, my lady. The things I want from you, the things I want to do to you…You should be scared.”

His hands closed around her neck. Fear and excitement slammed into her gut. She lifted her hands to grab his wrists and break his grip. There was a metallic click and he dropped his hands.

“Now, finally, you’re mine.”

Jaida’s fingers shot to her throat, tracing the ornate collar he’d clipped there. Realization settled like a lead weight in her stomach.

It was a slave collar.

The band around her heart tightened unbearably, cracking the part of her she’d long thought broken beyond repair. “I’ll never be yours. You can put a collar on me,” she told him, tight-lipped. “You can put any mark of ownership on me you like, my lord, but I will never be yours. Ever.”

“Oh, I beg to differ, my lady. You’re mine to do with as I wish.”

He lowered his head to claim her lips. She twisted away again, but he was too quick. His fingers tightened on the slender column of her neck. His free arm snaked around her as his mouth crashed down onto hers. Prying her lips apart, he held her still as he plundered the soft recesses of her mouth. A caress designed not to please but to punish her for running, for leaving him.

Fighting didn’t work, but she pummeled his shoulders and arms anyway. His hold on her didn’t lessen, just became tighter as his kiss grew deeper.

Desperate, she tried to shore up her defenses. This couldn’t be happening. For five years she’d told herself that he was the enemy, that she hated him for what he’d taken away from her. Now she was back in his arms and his lips were on hers. It was getting harder and harder to remember why she’d been running. She felt her resistance start to crumble as her blows stopped, her hands feathering uselessly against his shoulders.

Seth’s kiss turned seductive—an assault on her senses as he cradled her head in his palms to drink from her lips. He sipped and nibbled at her mouth as though she were the finest banquet and he a starving man. With each touch he tempted her further, eroded more of the wall she’d built around her heart. Through it all he made no attempt to touch her anywhere else, just her lips.

He didn’t need to. The battlefield was Jaida’s mind and crude pawing of her body would not further his campaign. From fighting his kisses she started to anticipate them, went from avoiding the dalliance of his tongue to welcoming it.

Finally her resistance cracked, and with a whimper, the last of her defenses crumpled into dust. She kissed him back, winding her arms around his neck to press against his body until they were joined from breast to thigh.

“Mine,” Seth growled, breaking away from her only long enough to sweep her into his arms. His eyes were molten silver as he looked into hers. “Always mine.”

She shivered, and a tremor ran through her body and settled into her stomach to erupt into a mass of rioting butterflies. He planted a knee on the bed and lowered her into the center. Seconds later he stretched out alongside her.

“I’ve scoured planets—whole systems—looking for you. Waiting for the next little bit of information that would lead me to where you might be, or where you’d gone next.” Seth’s voice was rough with passion. Or lust. Her brain was too addled to tell the difference anymore.

“Now you’re mine.” His expression was serious as he studied her. Reaching up, he brushed a strand of her hair back from her face.

“I’ve wanted this so much for so long; I don’t know where to start.”

His smile and gentle admission blew her away, and her heart contracted painfully at glimpse of the charming prince he’d been. For an instant she wanted with all her heart to turn the clock back five years and start over again.

Then what, the little voice in her head asked. You get charmed all over again, and in the morning he offers you a whore’s silks rather than a betrothal band?

Her heart iced over.

“I believe you start with the knot.” Her voice was cool and professional. Her hand hovered over the knot, her eyebrow arching as she looked up at him.

“Unless you’d like me to, my lord?”

Braced over her with his weight on his forearm Seth’s eyes hardened. His jaw set, and a small muscle at the side pulsed.

“If that’s what you want, my lady. I prefer my companions silent.” His voice was cold as his fingers dealt with the knot at her shoulder and slowly started to un-wrap the silk from her body.

“You’ve changed.”

His voice was remote as he ran a hand down her curves, pausing at her nipple to tweak it between his fingers.

She flinched, a flush building along her cheekbones. “Well, let me call the harem mistress and get you someone who suits your lordship’s exacting standards.” Her voice was sharp to conceal the hurt as she tried to roll away.

His hands closed on her shoulders and threw her back down onto the bed. “Oh no you don’t.” His voice was low and deadly. “You don’t get away that easily my lady. I’ve spent too long getting you into my bed for that to happen. I am going to have you. Tonight.”

Seth watched as defiance filled her eyes, and he braced himself for retaliation. He knew she was capable of it, more than capable. So many times his men had come close to capturing her, but she’d always managed to slip away. This time, though, she closed her eyes and relaxed against the sheets.

“As you wish my lord.”

Whatever Seth had expected, the stock answer of a courtesan wasn’t it. Unable to hide his surprise, he looked down at her. Perhaps this was it; perhaps she’d bowed to the inevitable… After all why shouldn’t she? Any sane woman faced with her situation would.

He held all the cards. When she’d run he’d been out of his mind with worry. Where was she? Was she safe? Anger had kicked in when Warin had told him of her temper tantrum over the betrothal bracelet he’d left. The poor man had tried to conceal it from him, saying she’d left without a word but under questioning, he’d cracked and admitted that Jaida had flown into a rage because the bracelet wasn’t ornate or expensive enough for her.

Furious, he’d exiled her. Made her an outlaw and put a price on her head—one dependent on her being brought to him alive and untouched. It was the only way he could think of to protect her. Such a bounty would ensure she wouldn’t fall prey to the slavers or prostitution rings in the darker reaches of the galaxy.

She had nowhere to go, nowhere to run but his bed. Any sane woman would capitulate, do the sensible thing, and agree to his terms. He was known to be generous—more than generous—to his mistresses, so she could do far worse.

Perhaps she had finally realized that? He looked down at her, lying pliant and silent in his arms with her eyes respectfully lowered. Instead of the sense of triumph he expected, a sense of loss filled him. He liked her defiance. It was, always had been, a part of her charm. Even as a young girl at her debutante ball she’d challenged him, calling him out on his political viewpoints and military knowledge until a stern look from her father had silenced her. Seth had liked it, though. She was refreshing and different from all the other young girls vying for his attention.

Leaning down he whispered a kiss against her lips. Taking his time, he relearned their shape and feel. Their taste. His body, denied for so long, urged him to get on with it, urged him to part her creamy thighs and drive his cock into her soft body.

A shudder ran through him, and Seth braced himself above her and parted her thighs with his knee. Hands shaking with impatience, he ripped open his breeches and leaned down to kiss her throat…

She wasn’t moving.

He stopped and looked down. She was motionless. If he couldn’t see the rise and fall of her chest he’d swear she was one of the life-size dolls his aunt insisted on keeping in her gardens. That’s what she was, a perfect china doll and just as responsive.

Seth swore, venting all his rage and frustration into a curse so foul it would make a commando blush. “This is how you’re going to get your revenge isn’t it?”

He slammed his hand into the pillow by her head. She flinched, but Seth’s anger was too deep to feel sympathy. “You’re going to pretend to feel nothing as I make love to you, aren’t you?”

Her eyelids fluttered open and the look in her eyes speared him to the core. Once they had been filled with laughter and vitality, bright with curiosity. Now there was no laughter, just sorrow and resignation.

“This isn’t love. No man loves his courtesan, he just fucks her.”