His to Reclaim Read online

  “There is more to this.” Franklin shook his head and left the bathroom, yelling over his shoulder, “Send your trackers, but I will be searching for other leads. I don’t believe for one minute Alan Worthington is who he seems.”

  * * * *

  Ryder stepped out of the detox chamber and stretched, attempting to ease the stiffness of his muscles.

  Intergalactic travel was more sophisticated than it had been years ago, but it still had its drawbacks.

  He walked back to his office with just a towel slung around his waist and went to his desk, pressing the button that would summon his assistant.

  Going to the closet, he pulled out another uniform. It would not be wise to stay in a near naked state this evening, not with Ines on her way.

  His mind conjured up the image of the rather plain, olive-skinned soldier with whom he’d indulged in a brief love affair. He cringed, slipping his arms into the sleeves of his shirt. It had not been one of his wiser moments.

  She had been forward in her interest in bedding him, had ultimately been the one to initiate the affair. In the bedroom she had been an aggressive lover, one who had enjoyed anything and everything.

  Initially he had enjoyed the affair, but soon the constant demands and growing possessiveness grew tiring. What had eventually ended the relationship was the day Ines had arrived with another man, intent on a ménage à trois. Ryder was not one to share his women in general, let alone in bed with another man.

  He’d ended things with her shortly after and she’d seemed to take it in stride. Last he’d heard she was dating a sergeant in another unit.

  There was a knock on the door and he glanced at it, fastening his trousers. He walked across the room and opened it.

  Ines stood on the other side, giving him her usual sultry smile before striding into the room.

  “You called?” She raised an eyebrow and went to his desk, sitting down on the edge.

  Damn. And this is why you did not fuck your subordinates. They showed you absolutely no respect afterward.

  “I was curious about the status of our prisoner. Have you checked on her?”

  Ines’s eyes narrowed and she crossed one leg over the other, the skirt rising high on her thigh.

  “I did a check a few minutes ago. She has been removed from the detox chamber and is still unconscious.”

  “Excellent.”

  “She is very attractive, sir.”

  Well, at least she still called him sir. Ryder fastened the cuffs of his shirt and glanced up at her again.

  “Is she?”

  “Of course you have noticed.”

  “Perhaps she is,” he admitted. “But she is a prisoner, nothing but business. She will provide me with the answers we have been seeking.”

  “Just business? Does that mean you have no desire to bed her?”

  “And what concern of yours would it be if I did?” Ryder’s temper flared and his gaze hardened on her. To question him in such a manner was not only disrespectful, but completely out of line.

  “I suppose none, seeing as we’re no longer together.” She shrugged and slid off his desk, approaching him with a slow sashay. “Unless…you have changed your mind?”

  Gods. His fists clenched at his side and he glanced over her shoulder. “No, Ines, I have not changed my mind.”

  “Well,” her fingers straightened the lapel of his shirt. “If you need an outlet for any sexual frustration, you know where to find me.”

  “I have a few errands to run before I check in on the prisoner myself. Thank you for your time, Ines.” He dismissed her with a nod, stepping away and seating himself behind the desk.

  He could see the annoyance and hesitation on the woman’s face, before she gave a brief nod and left his office.

  Gods. It was useless. He had not thought it would be necessary, but it appeared it may be best to inconspicuously transfer her to another unit.

  The trick would be pulling it off without offending her. A promotion might be the only way.

  He sighed and shook his head, logging onto the computer.

  * * * *

  There were rocks in her head. There had to be. Why else would it feel so heavy and throb so fiercely?

  “Oooh.” Talia pressed the back of her hand to her forehead and opened her eyes just a crack, so the light wouldn’t hurt them.

  Her heart leapt and her brows drew together. Surely she was seeing things. She lay on her side, and directly in front of her gaze was a large glass window. Beyond the window was lush foliage and a colorful sort of flower that she’d never seen before.

  She bolted upright in the soft feathery bed, not caring that it spread the throbbing fire in her head through the rest of her body.

  Oh gods. Where was she? What had happened? She looked around the room, then scrubbed her fists across her eyes. Surely it would clear the images from her head, because how could they possibly be real? She opened her eyes again.

  “Where am I?” she asked aloud, though there appeared to be no one around to answer.

  Plush white carpeting covered the expanse of the room, with cozy-looking wicker chairs near the window, which rose from floor to ceiling.

  Was she in the fantasy chamber? Never had she been in it before, but the Council had often spoken of the room that created an alternate reality. A favorite of the Council had been programming in the code for Hawaii, the mythical islands of paradise that were rumored to have once existed on Earth.

  There must be a programming remote around here somewhere. Perhaps the Council had placed her here to recover after the time with Alan Worthington…

  But his name wasn’t Alan. Had he really told her that? Visions flashed through her head. Her dress being ripped from her body, his hands all over her and inside of her, the surprising pleasure…and then nothing.

  Something heavy settled in her gut and it became hard to swallow.

  “Turn off this stupid fantasy,” she muttered and swung her leg out of bed to run toward the door. “Oooh!”

  Her scream of pain filled the room as she fell to the floor in a heap. Oh gods. Her foot, why did it hurt so? She lifted the hem of her dress—wait, this wasn’t her dress. Ignoring that fact for a moment, she studied her ankle. And the white bandage that surrounded it.

  Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. She looked around the chamber again. This was no fantasy room.

  The heaviness in her gut increased and nausea rolled in her stomach. Though the room was not overly warm, a sheen of sweat broke out on the back of her neck.

  There were a series of beeps from the door and then it swung open.

  “No.” She shook her head. He was supposed to be gone. Two hours of her time was all the Council had allotted him.

  Alan walked slowly into the room, until he towered above her where she had fallen on the floor.

  “Good morning, Talia. Did you sleep well?”

  “What is happening?” she demanded huskily. “Where am I?”

  “You mean you don’t remember?” He lifted an eyebrow questioningly.

  “Of course I do not remember! Whatever you injected—” Her eyes widened in horror. She remembered. “You drugged me.”

  “Yes, princess, I did.”

  “You can’t get away with this. The Council—”

  “Is doubtless up in arms over the fact that you chose to run off with an oil tycoon.”

  “Run off…” The blood drained from her face. “They’ll never believe it.”

  “Won’t they? Even after they find the note you left?”

  The room tilted. The Council may very well execute her for this—shortage of women be damned. Her lips trembled. “W-What have you done?”

  “I have done what needed to be done.” His smile was humorless. “My name is Ryder Jacobs. I am a Colonel in the planetary army of Belton. And you, Talia, are my prisoner.”

  Ryder’s jaw clenched as he stared down at her. She’s guilty. It was the way she’d blanched when he’d stated who he was. Then she’d
quickly dropped her head and stared at the floor.

  There was information behind that pretty head of hers, and she would give it to him. No matter what means he had to use.

  “Stand up.”

  She didn’t move, just sat stubbornly on the floor and avoided looking at him.

  “I told you to stand up.” He grasped under her arms and jerked her to her feet. Her sharp cry of pain almost distracted him from the softness of her breast against his thumb.

  “Please,” she begged, leaning her weight on one leg. “My foot is in pain.”

  “Ah…yes, so it would be.” He slid one arm under the back of her knees and the other around her waist. Lifting her up, he carried her to the bed.

  He laid her gently on the down comforter. “Let me check your wound. Lift your dress.”

  She hesitated and he lifted his gaze to meet hers. She must’ve seen the intent in his, or remembered that last time he’d requested she remove her dress. After a terse nod, she gripped the edge of the dress and pulled it up to her calves.

  His breathing hitched. He clenched his fists to avoid pushing the dress higher, to follow the trail of her pale smooth skin to the curve of her thigh.

  He turned his focus to the white bandage and took a deep breath. Here’s your focus. Reaching out, he began to unwrap the bandage to see the injury.

  “What did you do to me?” Her question was feather light as the bandage pulled away to expose the wound. “Oooh.” She closed her eyes and weaved a little.

  She was afraid of a little cut? His brows drew together.

  “Lie back on the bed and do not watch me if this distresses you.”

  She flopped back so fast he could not hold back a quiet laugh.

  “I removed the tracking device that was implanted in your heel.”

  She was silent for a moment. “Tracking device? You can’t be serious.”

  “I am.” Ryder turned his attention back to the wound. The flesh around the cut had faded to a healthy pink. It would heal fine; her foot would likely be smooth and flawless again within twenty-four hours. “You were not aware that you had one?”

  “I would have known,” she protested.

  “It was likely implanted when you were an infant. Is it still tender?” He drew his thumb across the wound and she made a little moan of protest.

  “A bit.”

  “I’ll send for a numbing leaf that we may wrap around it.” He stood up and made the mistake of looking away from her foot and up her body.

  She leaned back on her elbows, the thin fabric of the pale dress drawn taut over her breasts. Her areola hinted at a slight berry shade, her nipples just a bit lighter.

  His blood flowed heavier and his cock stirred beneath his pants. Gods, he wanted her. Her tongue darted across pink lips, before she drew the bottom one between her teeth.

  “Ryder?” She said his name hesitantly. “Where have you taken me?”

  “You mean you do not know?” He quirked an eyebrow and walked slowly toward the head of the bed. He sat down on the edge, noting the way she eyed him warily. “I have brought you to my home on Belton.”

  “Belton? But I cannot be here!” The horror on her face pounded another nail into her coffin of guilt.

  “Well, princess, I could hardly hold you prisoner on your own planet.” He shrugged and reached out to touch the throbbing pulse in her neck. “Why do you look so afraid, Talia? Our planets are allies, are they not?”

  She slapped his hand away and turned her head to look at the other wall. “If so, then why do you hold me prisoner? There is nothing you can want from me.”

  Her rejection of his touch stung more than he cared to admit. His jaw clenched. “You think not? There are many things I want from you, Talia. And I intend to have them all.”

  He returned his hand to the pulse on her neck, felt the blood pounding furiously.

  “I have many questions. Questions that you will answer.” Slowly he trailed his fingers down to her collarbone and then just barely onto the top swell of her breast.

  “What makes you think I have the answers?” Her breasts lifted as she took an unsteady breath.

  “Because, princess.” He leaned over her and strummed his thumb over her nipple. It tightened eagerly and she let out a tiny moan. “You have information about the Council’s plans that I need.”

  He lowered his head and licked the tip of her breast through the dress. The thin cotton, now damp, clung to her pink nipple. He closed his lips around the tip and drew it into his mouth, tasting her sweet flesh even through the fabric.

  Her fingers laced into his hair, her breathing grew more ragged. “W-what makes you think I can answer your questions?”

  “Because you are their whore, princess.”

  Her sharp indrawn breath echoed in the room. “And now you intend to make me yours?”

  His mouth twitched. “If I do, I promise that you will enjoy it.”

  “Never.”

  The fingers in his hair now tried to push him away, but he had no intention of letting her go just yet. He gripped her arms, pinning her to the bed and met her glare.

  “You sit within their chambers day in and day out.” He pointed out, looking into her eyes, which nearly spit fire. “There is no one else on your planet, save for the Council itself, who would have access to that kind of information.”

  “Really? Let me just save us both some time. What I do know will stay firmly in my head,” she snapped. “I owe you nothing—certainly not the betrayal of my home planet to a callous imbecile such as yourself.”

  “You think not?” He lowered his head again, paying heed to the opposite nipple. He drew it between his teeth, smoothing his tongue over the now-hard tip. He lifted his head again and used his fingers to toy with the peak. “You will tell me all, Talia. You may give the token protest—I would respect you less if you hadn’t—but we both know you will tell me everything.”

  Her cheeks flooded with color. “And you mean to use seduction as a means to make me talk?” she scoffed, but there was fear in her eyes. “Sex means nothing to me. As you pointed out more than once, I am nothing but a whore.”

  He was silent for a moment, then reluctantly released the breast he cupped. A warm confidence spread through him, knowing that he’d gotten to her. Had begun to pierce through that thick shell she retreated behind when a man touched her.

  He ran the pad of his thumb over her lips. “No, Talia, I think not. When you are in my bed, you will be willing and eager—be damn near begging me to take you. You will not be playing the role of Rosabelle.”

  He stood up, noting how pale she’d become. “I will send food and the numbing leaf in shortly. Tonight we will begin the first line of questioning.”

  At the door he turned and gave her a slight smile. “Until then, princess.”

  Note from Shelli

  I do hope you enjoyed this book, I’d so appreciate it if you’d help others enjoy it too.

  Recommend it. Please help other readers find this book by recommending it.

  Review it. Please tell other readers why you liked this book by reviewing it at online retailers or your blog. Reader reviews help my books continue to be valued by distributors/resellers. I adore each and every reader who takes the time to write one!

  If you love the book or leave a review, please email [email protected] so I can thank you with a personal email. Your support means more than you’ll ever know! Thank you!

  About Shelli

  New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Shelli Stevens writes a variety of romance genres including contemporary, cowboys, paranormal, and romantic comedy. Shelli is most known for her contemporary series such as Holding Out for a Hero, The McLaughlins, and A is for Alpha.

  She’s a compulsive volunteer, and has been known to spontaneously burst into song. She is a true pluviophile (lover of rain) and currently lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two daughters.

  Connect with Shelli online:

 
Visit Shelli’s website: www.shellistevens.com

  Follow Shelli on Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorshellistevens

  Follow Shelli on Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/shelligotpinned

  Shelli recommends … Renee George

  Midnight Shift

  Midnight Shifters, Book 1

  Renee George

  Chapter 1

  His mouth tasted of smoke, not from cigarettes, though she wouldn’t have minded, but this was more woodsy, natural and earthy, reminiscent of burned hickory. At the Millstone Bar, Benoica Dilian—who preferred Benie—had spotted the gorgeous creature right away. He’d been a bold brunette and beautifully built with his long torso, wide shoulders, and sculpted muscles. He’d known all the right things to say, and she knew in bed he would have all the right moves.

  She’d taken him to a quiet, out of the way motel. The kind that rented by the hour. The walls were beige with a few dark stains, the curtains a large flower print with one side held closed with safety pins, and the bedspread was a hot paisley mess. Benie wrinkled her nose at the mustiness, but places like these didn’t smell like potpourri. She cast a worried glance at the decor before promptly turning off all the lights.

  “I like it dark,” she told her pick-up. “It’s more mysterious and sexy, don’t you think?”

  He took her in his arms, and when his tongue swiped across her lips, the heat of his mouth made her knees tremble. “I want to see you,” he said. “Let me turn on the lights.”

  “No,” she whispered. “Don’t.”

  “But you’re so beautiful, and I’m so beautiful. It’s a shame to waste us in the dark.”

  Benie grabbed the front of his jeans and squeezed. “We seem to be doing okay.”

  “Yes, we sure are,” he agreed.

  If she was right about the man, he would make his move soon. She breathed in his scent, the aroma arousing her even more. Yeah. She was right about him. “God, you smell good. What are you wearing?”

  “It’s all natural, darling.”

  “Good genes?”

  “You have no idea.” He kissed her neck, his hot breath causing goose bumps to rise on her skin. “More talk or more action?”