As Wulf walked the length of corridor that framed the center courtyard, hot air coursed over his sweat-dampened skin. He relished the heat, accustomed to it from long months spent in the desert protecting and strengthening the borders of D’Ashier. Attired in a mästare’s uniform, he was clad only in a loose pair of linen drawstring pants that hung low on his hips. His chest and feet were bare. He moved toward Sapphire’s office with his customary bold gait, a stride that proclaimed without a word that he controlled all things around him.

The cool tiles felt wonderful against the soles of his feet. Apparently Sapphire shunned technology whenever she could comfortably do so. He liked that about her. He’d had his share of pampered, indolent women. The thought of an earthy lover made his pulse race.

And now, finally, he was moments away from seeing her again, face to face. Wulf’s palms itched at the thought.

The first time he’d seen her, he had been rousing from near death. In the days since, he’d almost managed to convince himself that she couldn’t be as breathtaking as he remembered. He was hopeful those first moments of renewed life and consciousness in the healing chamber had simply caused a temporary susceptibility. Perhaps any woman would have been especially appealing.

His mouth curved in a self-deprecating smile. Obviously he hadn’t convinced himself of the ordinariness of her charms, because he could have escaped at any time, yet here he was. The efforts Sapphire had taken to detain him were impressive and intriguing, displaying a knowledge of imprisonment he would have thought beyond a concubine’s sphere of study. Still, he was confident he could slip away with a little effort… if he weren’t trapped here as surely as if he were chained. No matter how vital it was that he return to D’Ashier, he couldn’t leave without knowing what the consequences would be for her.

And if she wanted him as much now as she had before, he intended to celebrate his rebirth in her bed.

Wulf paused on the threshold of her open-walled office. As he caught sight of her, his body hardened with need. He hadn’t been mistaken or delusional. Sapphire was stunning. Small-boned and petite, she stood on a short step reaching for a book. When she turned to face him, her smile tightened his chest.

“How are you feeling?” she queried in a raspy voice.

Dressed in an almost transparent shift, she robbed him of speech. The sight of her lush curves sent heat flaring across his skin.

Full, firm breasts swayed unfettered over rounded hips, and jeweled rings sparkled from luxuriously long nipples. Her waist was not small—in fact, she had a slight womanly roundness to her belly—but it looked tiny in relation to the voluptuousness of her figure.

Her hair was waist-length and a lovely shiny brown color like the pelt of a hosen fox. Her face, while not classically beautiful, was arresting with intelligent brown eyes, full lips, and a determined jaw. Beneath the shimmering sheer fabric of her gown, her skin was creamy and completely hairless—the hair most likely lasered off permanently.

Wulf’s mouth was as dry as the desert outside. Sapphire possessed something much more attractive than physical beauty—she radiated confidence. She aroused because it was clear she hungered for the pleasures of life and she was determined to pursue those pleasures. He sensed she was a kindred spirit, a primitive creature like himself in a world that had long ago evolved and been tamed.

As she stepped down to sit at her desk, her smile widened, and a sudden realization burned through Wulf’s mind. When he was in her presence, his focus narrowed until he was aware only of her. When she’d stood in front of the healing chamber, he had ceased to feel the excruciating pain of his wounds or his profound exhaustion. He could only watch her, ache for her as she rubbed herself against the glass and stared at him with open admiration and desire. The way she’d looked at him had made him feel powerful and virile at a time when he was helpless and disgusted by his own weakness.

He wanted her. She made him feel both carnal and possessive. His body craved hers on some base level. He wondered if his recent ordeal had changed him in some way, made him vulnerable, as he hadn’t been previously.

“Well, Prince Wulfric? How are you?”

A ripple of pleasure coursed through him at the sound of her throaty voice. “Mistress,” he answered, the word rolling off his tongue in a way that said he was in her service only because he chose to be, and not because she forced him. “I’m feeling much improved.”

Her dark eyes sparkled. “I’m happy to hear that. The Guardian says you asked for permission to speak with me. You have it. Speak.”

He started in surprise at her tone, but didn’t show it. Authority had slipped over her like a monarch’s robes. Wulf noted her self-possession and her ease in command. There was more to this concubine than met the eye. He was determined to discover as much as he could about her before he left.

“I’m curious as to the state of my present circumstances.” He kept his face impassive, not wanting to betray his confidence that he could leave her at will. It was obvious Sapphire had nothing to do with his capture. The mästares told him of her surprise at discovering him in her home and she made no effort to question him or torment him as would someone who had a malicious intent. That left many questions unanswered. “Am I to be ransomed?”

“You didn’t have to see me to ask that question. Guardian, will you answer?”

“There is no ransom, Prince Wulfric. Your countrymen believe you to be dead.”

Wulf didn’t even blink. After his failure to check in, search parties would have discovered the remains of his patrol. Despite that evidence, the palace would know he was alive. Deep inside the flesh of his right buttock was a nanotach—a chip powered by his cellular energy that conveyed his location.

To avoid war, his father would allow him a reasonable amount of time to escape. After that, fighting would begin. D’Ashier needed him. He had work to do. The assault against his patrol had succeeded owing to careful planning. No one would dedicate that amount of effort for mere sport. What had been the original intent of the ambush? Ransom? Information? And how did the plans change so greatly that he was now in the care of the king’s favorite concubine?

The Guardian misunderstood his silence.

“Be forewarned if you think to end the Mistress’s life for your freedom. With her training, you may find an unexpected result.”

Sapphire studied him with a penetrating gaze, as if she hoped to see his intentions from the outside.

“I don’t want to kill you,” he assured her softly. “If I did, I would have done so by now.”

Wulf tensed a moment too late. What occurred next transpired so quickly he couldn’t be certain later what happened. He remembered only that she sprang from her chair and flew across the desk in one fluid movement. Her smaller body hit his with enough force to knock him to the floor. The teasing prick of pain at his neck warned him that she held a blade in her hand. With a flick of her wrist, he would bleed to death.

For a moment, horrifying memories of his ambush made his heart race desperately. His chest lifted and fell in near panicked rhythm. He could smell the cave and taste his own blood. He inhaled sharply—

—and the scent of Draxian lilies permeated his senses.

Her scent.

The warmth and softness of her body was a salve. He was soothed, just from the feel of her, his fear and confusion gone as quickly as they’d come. Still he was shocked, staring up at her with wide eyes. It took years of training for a woman of her slight build to better a man of his size. Sapphire wouldn’t have managed it without the element of surprise. But that was not the point. The point was she had bettered him. She was no easy target and she wanted him to know that. He was impressed.

Then his admiration flared into something hotter as the press of her curves onto his body burned into his consciousness. Suddenly, he was more than impressed, he was aroused.

Her breasts, so full and soft, were against his chest with only her transparent shift between them. Her legs, lithe and obviously powerful, were tangled with his. Gripping her waist with one hand, he watched her lips part and her pupils dilate. His cock swelled against her thigh. Her hair surrounded them in fragrant silk and he wrapped his fist into it, pulling her closer. Moistening his lips, Wulf longed for her to kiss him, his gaze riveted to her lush mouth.

Every nerve ending in his body was alert, every muscle tense. Every breath pushed his chest into those beautiful tits.

“Kiss me,” he ordered.

The knife at his neck wavered. “I won’t.”

“Why?”

“You know why,” she whispered.

“I know I almost died a few days ago and woke instead to the sight of you.” Wulfric lifted his head and nuzzled his nose against hers. “Kindness, a gentle soul—none of that would have revived me the way your desire did. You’ve no notion of what I owe you for that.”

Sapphire sighed, her free hand brushing briefly across his cheek. “Then don’t ask this of me.”

It was the regret in her tone and that fleeting caress that moved him. He didn’t have time to woo her properly, but he knew when it was wiser to retreat than press a shaky advantage. It took tremendous willpower to release her, but Wulf managed it.

When Sapphire slid off him and returned to her seat behind the desk, his disappointment was acute. He sprang from the floor and landed on the pads of his feet with the grace of a cat.

His stay with the lovely Sapphire was limited by necessity. Fortunately, the desire he felt was mutual. With that on his side, his rushed seduction just might succeed.