Chapter 13

Someone was shaking her shoulder. "You can't sleep all day. We've got too much to do."

"Five more minutes," she mumbled, turning over on her stomach. Then she realized the bed was moving as she moved. Why was her bed moving?

There was a low laugh from nearby. Something else out of place. No men laughed in her bedroom. She couldn't remember if she'd ever even had a man in her bedroom.

"Come on, sleepy seal, out of bed."

Sleepy seal? That was definitely a man's voice.

Sylvie cracked one eye open.

Black eyes with glowing rims watched her. Black eyes in a green face.

This wasn't her bedroom.

Sylvie groaned, her situation rushing back to her. She was stranded on an alien planet, held captive by its inhabitants. She'd been electrocuted, stripped nearly naked, and almost dissected. Now the supreme ruler of this blasted place was shaking her awake like an indulgent father.

She threw an arm over her head. She was so over it. "Go away."

"Sylvia, you will get up this instant."

So much for indulgence.

"Stop calling me by my full name." Why did it bother her all of a sudden? "I mean, 'Dr. Cohen' is respectful enough."

"Dr. Cohen, I can't spend all day waiting on you to get up. We have serious business to attend to. I want you out of bed and sitting at the breakfast table in two minutes."

His footsteps grew distant and she finally sat up.

Sylvie vaguely remembered her surroundings from the last time she'd been carried into this room, but she now had a moment to check things out in more detail.

The bed was impressive. Large, ornate scrolling, carved out of what must be driftwood. It had to be an extravagance, as it seemed few plants grew on the small amount of dry land the planet had to offer. What passed for a mattress was some form of miniature wave pool covered by a membrane similar to those that comprised the doors. Even now it shifted subtly below her.

Sylvie hopped up, wrapping the blanket around her and strolling over to investigate an outcropping of coral. She wondered if it contained one of those displays she'd seen elsewhere. She ran a hand over it, and a holographic image was projected in front of her face.

Incomprehensible images and curly scripts she couldn't read flashed by. I guess the translation matrix doesn't extend to written language. She waved a hand at the display and it vanished.

There was a low stone table and several small items sat on its polished surface. Sylvie picked up a carving of two figures in what resembled jade. The figures looked like the inhabitants of this planet and could have been twins, except for the clothing. The figure on the right wore a sarong similar to those worn by X and his colleagues. The one on the left had tight woven shorts and two thick braids that formed a cross over the chest.

"Time's up."

Sylvie looked over her shoulder at her host. She'd forgotten how large he was, how muscular. How attractive.

"You're supposed to be eating breakfast. Not pawing through my things."

Sylvie smiled. For regent of an entire planet, he sure was an incessant nag.

"I can't come out to breakfast like this," she said, indicating the thin blanket wrapped around her torso. "And your lackey ruined my flight suit. I have nothing to wear."

X leaned back, crossing his elbows and planting one webbed foot against the wall. "Lose the blanket then."

Sylvie's jaw dropped. "And run around in my underwear?"

"It covers you adequately. Why not?"

"Look," she said, walking over to him and wagging a finger at him. "You may be perfectly comfortable running around your colony dressed in a braided skirt and nothing else, but that doesn't mean I want everyone seeing me in my unmentionables."

"Unmentionables? Is that what you humans call them? I seem to remember plenty of your species mentioning their undergarments."

Sylvie shook her head, ignoring him. Silly man. Who cares what they’re called?

"Wait," he said, comprehension dawning on his face. "Unmentionable. Does that have something to do with that woman Victoria and her secret?"

She popped him in the chest. “I’m not wearing my underclothes in front of you or your people. Period. Just find me some clothes, okay?"

The regent stared at her for a moment, as if he was debating. He moved toward her, and for a split second she thought he might grab her and haul her out of the room as he'd done before. Instead, he passed her and entered an alcove carved out of the wall that she hadn't noticed.

When he reappeared, he had a bundle in his hands. He passed it to her but didn't release it to her right away. "I've been tolerant of your antics because you've had a rough couple of days."

Rough couple of days. He made it sound like she'd gone on vacation and had to stay at a two-star motel instead of the five-star resort she was used to.

She'd crashed, been molested and tortured.

And he'd been tolerant.

She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind but he silenced her with a finger over her lips.

"I need you to behave yourself now and do what I tell you. I don't have time to babysit an ill-mannered guest."

"Guest? I thought I was a prisoner."

"Guest," he said again. "But the kind you keep an eye on, so that they don't steal the cutlery."

"Nice." She tugged the bundle away from him. "Now get out of here and let me get dressed. Then I'll start following orders, Supreme Pain in My Ass."

His eyes narrowed, but he left the room without another word. She was pushing it, but something in her was ready to fight back. Too bad it was her rescuer who was getting the brunt of her attitude.

She let out a short puff of air and unfolded the bundle to see what she'd be saddled with.

It was woven from the same material as all the other clothing she'd seen. She had expected it to be coarse, but the seaweed was actually quite supple. She slid into the shorts and was glad to find the material stretched. It hugged her hips and was tight on her behind, but beggars couldn't be fashionistas.

The top was a little trickier. After struggling into different combinations that didn't seem to fit right, Sylvie discovered it was supposed to form a cross shape, like the one the little jade figure was wearing. When it had settled correctly, she still wasn't sure if she had it right.

The material was so tight across her chest, it seemed to outline her breasts and throw her nipples into stark relief. The way the top fit her was virtually pornographic.

Sylvie poked her head around the doorway of the sitting room.

"I can't wear this," she said.

"Nonsense."

"It's obscene."

His face hardened. "It belonged to my mother."

Sylvie blanched, then took a deep breath. She stepped out from around the door. "I doubt it fit the same way on her."

In mere seconds, X had turned purple. Knowing that she had the power to cause a reaction in him caused her stomach to tighten.

"It's... fine," the regent said, then coughed and turned away. She thought he was adjusting the front of his sarong. "No one will notice."

"I will!"

X turned back, fixing his heavy gaze on her. "Sit down and eat your breakfast. We're already behind schedule."

Sylvie stuck out her bottom lip. She remembered she was an adult and sucked it up, walked over to her chair, and took a seat. No reason to pout. It wouldn’t get her anywhere. Perhaps stripping would be the better action – at least more effective.

"What exactly are we behind schedule for?" She took a few bites of the warm mush in front of her. It was faintly sweet, with the consistency of mousse.

He moved over to his console and fiddled with the display, not responding to her question at all. Sylvie shrugged, took a few more bites, and watched him closely. She couldn’t help but wonder what his body looked like without the sarong. Was he structured like a human male in terms of his reproductive organs?

Heat rose from her chest to coat her neck and face, the stark realization that she wanted to know for more personal reasons causing her to choke on her breakfast.

He glanced up as she waved him off. She turned her attention back to her bowl and tried to play as if everything were fine. She waited until he appeared to be immersed back in the data streaming before his face to glance up at him again.

His color lightened until it was almost back to mint, a calm settling over the room somehow. What was he reading?

Did it have anything to do with her spaceship? Had they gotten it to work, or had they decided to dissect it, like they almost had her?

Sylvie finished her breakfast and had to restrain herself from licking the bowl. So far the food on Zanthar had been excellent, even if the company left something to be desired.

Or someone to be desired.

A wry smile lifted on her lips. The Supreme Regent was sexy. He was far too bossy for her tastes, but so incredibly hot.

She had run her own life for years, and she didn't appreciate some alien on a power trip trying to do it for her now. Even if his closeness gave her tingles, his demeanor made her frustrated. 'Annoyed and aroused' about summed things up.

"All done, Your Majesty," she said with false sweetness. Might as well go along with what he's got planned and figure out the lay of the land.

It couldn't be worse than getting dissected.