The Nymph King

Why had she not felt this way on any of the dates she’d gone on? Why now? Why this man?

Dorian expelled a frustrated breath. He tangled a hand through his silky hair and eyed his boss. “Valerian, make her look at me.”

Valerian lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I cannot force her eyes to you.”

“But—”

“Is she the one you want or not?” The words lashed from him, abrupt, harsh. Filled with impatience. “The others are waiting for their turn.”

A scowl darkened Dorian’s features. He spun away from Shaye and stalked to the only redhead in the group. “I choose you.”

The degrading debacle continued for half an hour. Only one other woman seemed upset by the happenings, the same woman who’d been as unwilling as Shaye to blithely walk into the water with the nymphs. She was a tiny thing and very pretty, with dark, curly hair, wide, dark eyes and a button nose. And, despite her innocent, school-girl features, she radiated dark, wild sensuality.

Unfortunately, she was selected by a tall warrior with beads in his sandy-colored hair. One of the men still in line—she couldn’t see which—slammed his fist into the wall, the force of it reverberating through the room. “I wanted that one,” he growled.

“Too bad for you, Joachim,” was the smug reply. “She’s now mine.” Beaded Hair clasped Nervous’s hand and tugged her from the line.

She dragged her heels, but didn’t utter a word in protest.

Obviously puzzled, he glanced over his shoulder and frowned. “Do not be afraid. I will not hurt you.”

The girl chewed on her bottom lip, tears in her eyes.

“Let her go,” Shaye shouted. She’d seen enough. “Let her go right now! She doesn’t want to leave with you.”

His frown deepened, and he glanced at Valerian in confusion. “But…I chose her.”

The girl leveled a frightened, watery gaze on Shaye. Still she didn’t speak, just continued to bite her bottom lip.

“Valerian.” Shaye latched on to his wrist and squeezed. “You have to do something about this. She doesn’t want to leave with him.”

Seconds passed in absolute silence. “What will you give me in return?” he finally replied. “If I do something as you’ve so sweetly asked, my men will think me odd. But if I was to receive compensation, I would be willing to risk their displeasure.”

“I’ll allow you to live,” she said through clenched teeth. “That should be payment enough.”

He chuckled, a husky, sensual sound of pure enjoyment.

Damn him and his amusement!

“I’ll be nice to you. For a little while,” she grumbled.

He didn’t hesitate. “Do you wish to be chosen by another warrior?” he asked the woman.

Her eyes roved over the remaining, eager men. She shrank back, gulped. Then she slowly shook her head.

“Take her, Shivawn, but do not touch her unless you have her permission. And do not force her to give permission,” he added as an afterthought. He paused. “Does that satisfy you, Shaye?”

The way he said her name…she shivered and forced her mind to the matter at hand. No, it didn’t satisfy her. But she knew he would not let the girl return to the beach. “Can Shivawn be trusted to obey your command?”

“All of my men obey me.” There was a good amount of affront in his tone. “Go,” Valerian told the couple.

Shivawn hurried the girl from the room before Shaye could utter another protest. Another man, the one who had hit the wall, swore under his breath.

And on the “selection” continued.

Every time a soldier approached her, Valerian told her exactly what to do. Spit, curse, faint. Thankfully, no one selected her. The line dwindled significantly, until only Shaye and a few others remained. Everyone else had adjourned to their rooms.

Later, when this was over, she suspected Valerian would demand some sort of reward for his aid. More than just her promise to be “nice.” He copped a feel when attention was diverted from them, tracing his fingers over the curve of her hip. Dipping his thumb into her navel. Her nerve endings were on fire, clamoring for more of him.

Oddly, his possessive manner thrilled a secret part of her. A part she hadn’t known existed. When someone approached her, he stiffened. A few times, he even growled low in his throat, as if he had withstood all that he could.

“It’s almost over,” he whispered. His breath fanned her ear as he trailed a fingertip along the bumps of her spine.

She almost slumped into a boneless heap. Only the sudden, unexpected feeling of being watched strengthened her resolve to appear unaffected. She felt a heated gaze boring into her, laden with purpose and determination. Eerie goose bumps broke over her as her eyes darted across the remaining men—and collided with a handsome brunet.

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