
going to keep laughing at her, he was going to be sorry—she‘d find a way to make him pay. She took a
deep breath. Her hands clinched and she leaned toward him aggressively. Her knees might be knocking,
but she would show him that she was not afraid of any big, smirking, sexy, annoying guy. Ever. He’d
better understand right now that she was no pushover.
Liken looked at the little beauty standing so scared and defiant in front of him, and felt his heart rejoice.
She was perfect. Her five-foot, eight-inch frame was practically vibrating with nerves and outrage. She
was both beautiful and courageous. He appreciated the beauty, but she would need the courage in the
times to come. She was fighting his effect on her now, but that would change. He would make sure of it.
First, though, he had to get his own arousal under control.
She had long, black hair that dropped just past her shoulders. Seeing it in person, rather than
telepathically, made him ache with the need to run his hands through it. He wanted that hair spread across
his pillow. Or better yet, across every inch of his body. Her eyes were likemer stones, deep green and
seemingly lit from within. Her face was not classically Shimerian beautiful. The mouth was a little too full,
the nose a little too pert. The overall effect on his senses, however, was devastating.
He wanted that face looking at him with desire, with need. He wanted those full lips swollen and tender
from his mating or rather, from his lovemaking. When on Earth, think like a human, he chided himself.
Yet even with that thought, his eyes drifted down the rest of her body. Full breasts, the nipples hardening
beneath his gaze, were heaving with her rapid breaths. The tips were little defiant points underneath the
traditional white blouse. It was fitted to her body, but not tightly. The scooped neckline showed the
upper swell of creamy curves. He could tell she wore no undergarment, and those tight nipples were stiff
and visible.
Going lower, he saw a small waist, tapering outward to full hips. He felt his hands flex with the need to
sink his fingers into those curves and pull her toward him. The white ceremonial skirt fell all the way to the
ground. What would those long legs look like? And what would they feel like wrapped around his hips?
Calling on all his discipline, he again raised his eyes to hers and felt the jolt to his soul. She would be his.
He had no doubt. Attempting to ease her fear, he said, “Do not fear me, Sharon. I am merely invoking
our oath. I am your pactmate, Liken da’Kamon. I would never harm you.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she said a little too quickly. They both wondered if she meant to convince him or
herself. “Why would I be afraid? This is just the ceremony. I don’t think we’ll be at all compatible. I think
we should just say our words and then when it’s over, you can go your way and I’ll go mine. At the end
of the knowing period, we’ll just meet back here and file incompatible.”
“You are mine. You will leave with me.” The words were out of his mouth without any thought. Seeing
her eyes widen, he fell back on Shimerian strategy. Timing was crucial to gaining any objective,
particularly with females. “We will speak no more, Sharon, until after the ceremony. We should not be
speaking now. Go to the pactmaker and wait for me.” With those words, he turned and walked to the
other side of the room.
He might as well have said “Get thee to a nunnery!” like some classic Shakespeare character. Sharon,
shocked speechless at his arrogance, stood there until she felt a slight tug on her arm.
Turning, she looked into her friend Kate’s face and said, “I amso out of here. No way can I go through
with this. How dare he order me over to the pactmaker like I was some child to command? What was I
thinking? Kate, we have to find a way to get me out of here.”
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