Gena Showalter

The Nymph King


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jaw clenched. Mine, he thought again, tightening his grip.

      Broderick reached out to part the woman’s grass skirt.

      “I’m Shaye,” she said in a rush, the words almost a screech. “My name is Shaye Octavia Holling.”

      Valerian knew immediately what she wanted from him. I’ll help you drive the men away if you tell me your name, he’d promised her. Promised Shaye. Shaye. He rolled the name over his tongue, savoring. Relishing. The name fit her. Seemingly cool, aloof, yet utterly sensual.

      “Kick him,” he breathed into her ear. “Hard.”

      She did so without hesitation, bringing up her leg and slamming her foot into Broderick’s stomach. The stunned warrior propelled backward, tripped over his own feet and tumbled to the ground. The rest of the army burst into gales of laughter. Broderick popped to a stand, frowning at Shaye in confusion.

      Valerian bit back a grin. His second-in-command quickly selected a pretty, sedate brunette. They rushed from the dining hall without a backward glance. One down…

      “Dorian.” Valerian nodded to the black-haired man, whose muscled body emitted a palpable air of eagerness. “You are next.” To Shaye—ah, he couldn’t get enough of her name, as delicate and lovely as the woman herself—he whispered, “When he approaches you, ignore him. Do not even look at him.”

      “Are you sure?” Shaye couldn’t believe she was relying on Valerian to get her out of this mess. He was the one responsible for it! But she could think of no alternative. Letting one of these barbarians “claim” her, then drag her away and do God knows what to her, held no appeal. “Won’t ignoring him bring out all his caveman instincts?”

      “Not with this man.” He sounded amused.

      Dorian had onyx hair and irises so blue they rivaled the ocean in purity. His mouthwatering beauty was something out of a fairy tale. Somehow, his features were even more perfect than Valerian’s. He didn’t make her ache, however. He didn’t fill her mind with X-rated images of naked, straining bodies.

      Shaye’s stomach churned with nervousness as the man followed Broderick’s example and considered every woman in line. He looked, he tasted, he enjoyed a little too much. Shaye was offended for the women. How dare he treat them so casually? It didn’t matter that they seemed to love it. Didn’t matter that they asked for more.

      When he reached her, he remained out of striking distance and crossed his arms over his massive chest. He studied her, his intense gaze lingering on her every curve. Several seconds ticked by and Valerian stiffened.

      “Remove the shells,” Dorian finally said. “I would see your breasts.”

      Ignore him had been Valerian’s advice. She turned her chin away from Dorian and studied her cuticles. If he tried to remove the bra himself, he’d walk away with a bloody stump in place of his hand.

      “Did you not hear me, woman? I said, remove the shells.”

      She yawned—a nearly impossible feat. With Valerian’s strong arms banded around her, she was foolishly turned on. Not bored. Despite every other emotion—fear, anger, affront—her desire had remained. Grown. She didn’t feel like her normal self around the vain, egotistical giant. She felt like a sexual being whose only purpose was pleasure. Giving and receiving it.

      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