Copyright © 2008, Cheri Valmont, Skyler Grey
Published by Whiskey Creek Press LLC

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Sample Chapter For TORRID TEASERS Volume 52 by Cheri Valmont & Skyler Grey

Alia’s Debt
“Why did you not release the girl as soon as you reached the planet’s surface, Father?”

GarinRig Ossur demanded of his father, TarnRig. TarnRig was governor of the Kazphyrian country of Velorn, newly returned from the alien planet of Kaluntron and an unsuccessful diplomatic mission on behalf of their neighboring country of Sanforthe.

TarnRig was gazing out of the legion council hall’s massive windows, out onto the training grounds Garin himself had just been summoned from. Garin felt sweaty, hot, and furious at the interruption. Now that he’d been told the reason for said interruption, his anger was hard to contain.

How dare his father purchase this seemingly wild female for Garin’s household?

Tarn shrugged, as if he didn’t understand his own reasoning for doing such an uncharacteristic thing. Tarn was a man of vision. Every action he took was usually very well calculated and thought out on how the outcome would affect his beloved country of Velorn.
What could have possessed his father to take such a spontaneous action?

“I’m not sure if it was because I was too late to intercept Governor Faddei’s daughter before they sold her or…”

“Or what?” Garin wanted to know why his father had made such a decision. Tarn knew well Garin had not purchased or hired any servants after the abduction and death of his mate five centras prior. Jenlea, his old housekeeper, was all he wanted or needed at this point in his life.

Tarn turned to face him. His father was almost as tall as Garin, and still retained the military physique he’d attained as a youth. Although the governorship of Velorn was a position held by right of birth, if the candidate did not show military prowess or diplomatic ability, the position could be bequeathed to another member of the same family. It was one of the reasons Garin trained tirelessly under the direct command of JarrRon Ry Vere, Velorn’s legion commander. JarrRon was no easy taskmaster, either. JarrRon never showed any preferential treatment to Garin just because he was the governor’s son, for which he’d earned Garin’s unending respect. Whatever praise Garin received from Jarr was hard won and treasured.

“Had I not bought the girl, she would have been sold to a harsh master,” Tarn informed him. “The girl has intelligence in her eyes, doubt it not. She’s stubborn and refused to tell her captors her name even after a harsh punishment, but I sense a prize under that beastly exterior.”

“And you expect me to expose this prize?” This couldn’t be happening. His father knew of Garin’s aversion to anything that disrupted the usual calm, yet hard routine of his life.

“She is a beauty. A wild, beautiful creature any male worth the name would covet.” His father’s eyes, the same icy blue as his own, seemed distant. Was his father taken with the girl?

“Why don’t you keep her?” Without a doubt, Garin knew his mother would not allow another female servant in his father’s household. Besides his mother—Tarn’s primary mate—there were six other secondary mates, along with a bevy of female servants who all vied for any of his father’s free time. That being the case, Garin was sure his mother would refuse to give up any more of his father’s attention.

Tarn grimaced. “No, son. My household is overflowing with females as it is. This wildflower would need much more time than I have to give. I don’t think it would be fair to her.”

“Why not offer her to JarrRon?” Garin was desperately trying to figure a way to refuse his father’s gift.

That comment made Tarn laugh. “Ha! Not in a million centras. Jarr is very happy with the household he has. His primary mate, Aimee, it seems, keeps him very busy with her ‘greetings’, every time he gets home. Not that he’s complaining about that, of course. He adores his mate and doesn’t want any other mates. Not that I understand that restriction he puts on himself.” Tarn’s laugh turned to a smile. Although his father didn’t understand it, he seemed willing to accept Jarr’s decision.

Garin had the feeling it was because although Tarn cared for Garin’s mother, he’d never felt that bone-deep feeling of love that would make him only want one mate, one female who made him feel complete.

The feeling Garin had felt for his mate, Seroni.

To this sun rising, he still yearned to hear her gentle voice speak to him, question him of his thoughts, beg him to love her. That was before she’d been stolen and accidentally killed at the hands of alien visitors to their neighboring country, Sanforthe. Seroni had been visiting the forest bordering the two countries with her friends and maids. It was said the aliens had spied the women, and since on their barbaric planet they could claim any female they saw, had not asked, but just taken them. The females had been brutally raped, half of them dying, including Seroni. Since the atrocities had taken place in the borders of Velorn and entry was forbidden, Garin evoked his right to avenge his mate’s dishonor and death. Four males to his one. Because of the delicacy of diplomatic relations with Sanforthe and Velorn, the leaders of the country the aliens hailed from accepted the terms. In his rage and anguish, it had taken Garin little time to kill his mate’s murderers. Even as he’d gazed down at their gory remains, he’d felt no freedom from his pain and sense of loss.

Nothing had ever freed him.

He’d become a bitter man. A recluse of sorts, some beings called him. Except for those he met in the course of his daily unrelenting training, Garin met few new beings. He knew his father worried about that. Once he became governor, Garin would be expected to entertain visitors from other Kazphyrian nations as well as other planets. He could imagine that was what concerned his father most.

Returning his thoughts to his father’s last comment, “I’m sure you don’t understand his reluctance for another mate.” Garin walked over to the large window himself to look out on his fellow legionnaires as they worked through their daily training routine.

How he wished he were down there and not up here having this conversation with his father.

“Garin, do not begrudge me my enjoyments in this life. You know I care for your mother, and she is more than happy to allow me my other diversions. Besides, as she is the one to choose my secondary mates and female servants, she is certain to choose those she feels able to control. And she does.”

“Then why do you begrudge me my way of life?” Garin could feel his anger rising again. “I’ve made it clear; I want no other mate, no female servants begging for my attention. I’m content being a bachelor. What in the Velornian dictates state that I must be mated to rule Velorn?”

Garin watched as his father shoved a frustrated hand through the pitch-black hair Garin had inherited from him. Actually, his father was just an older version of what Garin himself looked like. “Garin, you must set your mind to it. You cannot have an heir if you do not find a mate!”

“Could I not just hire a surrogate?” Garin was grasping at suggestions now. He knew what his father’s answer would be.

“No! In the laws of the Velornian dictates, it states that only a legitimate heir can succeed as governor to rule Velorn. I’m not telling you to take this girl to mate, son. Just take her into your household, get yourself used to her. Who knows, perhaps you will enjoy having a female around again.”

“Or not,” Garin gritted out. “If she is as wild as you say she is, maybe I’ll just realize how much trouble females can be and have done with them forever!”

Tarn frowned. Obviously, he’d not thought of that turn of events. He shook his head. “No, I have a feeling you will want to keep her, if only as a bed companion. She is one of the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever encountered. I was told she was a servant to Governor Faddei’s daughter, abducted at the same time. I guess if you absolutely refuse to keep her, I can arrange payment from him in return for what I had to pay to obtain her release.”

“How much did you pay for her?” Garin didn’t know why he was interested in the price his father paid.

After his father told him the price, Garin gaped at him. Jardem! Was his father mad? Paying that much for a servant was unheard of! Garin knew if his mother ever found out his father paid that much for a female, she’d blister his ears.

“Governor Faddei would never pay you that much for the return of a servant,” Garin insisted.

Tarn shrugged. “The price matters not, if you enjoy her. And if she cures you of your present aversion to setting up your own household, the price I paid for her will be well worth it.”

Garin shook his head. His father’s faulty logic baffled him. The only thing his fighting to tame the female would accomplish was to strengthen his resistance to accepting another female in his household. He might as well get the first meeting over with, just so he could tell his father he’d done so and send her back to her country.

“Fine, Father,” Garin relented. “I will meet this wildflower. But do not say I did not warn you of the outcome.”

The drive alone was only three hours and if she left now, she could beat the afternoon traffic. How shocked he’d be to find her home tonight. She’d spoken with him that morning, hoping she might be able to make it home for the weekend.

At the time, the campaign her company had been working on for the past four months plus, was thought to take them well into Sunday, possibly even Monday. But late Saturday, and to everyone’s delight, Hart Designs loved the logo and pitch for their new commercial. So much that the owner, Roland Wells signed the contract immediately, taking even her boss by surprise.

Wells was not an easy man to please, so when the deal was signed and hands were shaken, everyone planned a night of celebration—everyone except Zyriah. She was too anxious to get home to Chris.

Finally, within the hour, she was on the highway heading home. Humming, she thought back three months to the day of her wedding. She and Chris grew up together, so when he popped the question, it only felt right that she say yes. Their families had long been friends—from the time both were infants. Both fathers were already celebrating the news by the time she and Chris arrived home from their dinner date.

Her father had been the main focus point in her life, her mother always abroad, traveling of some sort. She had never really been around throughout Zyriah’s childhood, saying she was needed here or there for some reason or another. Since that was all she knew, Zyriah came to except it as a normal way of life, never questioning it, content that her father remained by her side—the two forming a bond that was treasured by both.

It was on her nineteenth birthday that Chris asked for her hand in marriage and she’d accepted. They were married within the year. To her disappointment, toward the end of their reception, he’d received an urgent message and had to slip away, leaving her to spend their honeymoon alone.

He was very apologetic, kissing her forehead, as tears filled her eyes, promising that he’d make it up to her no matter what. Being a brave young wife, she forced a smile, understanding that when one works for the Embassy, there is the chance that they might be called at anytime.

Chris called her twice a week, telling her how much he missed her, asking if there was anything he could send her while she waited. He finally arrived back home only yesterday.

By the time she pulled up the driveway, it began to storm. Rain pelted her windshield as dark, dreary storm clouds began rolling in. Pulling her car safely into the garage, she snuck through the back door into the kitchen without a sound.

Her body shivered as she peeled off the wet coat, tossing it across the counter, too anxious to care that water dripped onto their newly tiled flooring. She crept silently downstairs to the basement, which they transformed it into a huge game room for entertaining friends.

She showered and quickly wrapped herself in one of the bath towels used for the pool as she blow-dried her hair.

Finally feeling refreshed, she stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment, her heart pounding from nerves. Married for three months, yet still a virgin, she gave her reflection a wicked grin. “Tonight that will change,” she whispered.

Her pulse racing, she slowly climbed the stairs to their bedroom. She planned for this night since her engagement, and now that it was here, she felt like a frightened girl. She had not breathed a word to anyone about their situation, Chris suggesting that it would be uncomfortable as well as embarrassing for them both.

So tonight would be the honeymoon they’d both been denied. This was the night she would become a wife in every sense of the word. With a renewed determination, she made her way to the top of the stairs.

As she drew closer to their bedroom, the sound of soft music filled her ears, bringing a feeling of uneasiness. Pushing the door open, her hand flew to her mouth in shock.

Not only did Chris lay sprawled on the bed, surrounded by numerous candles, but a content smile played across his face. A rustle from the bathroom caused her to turn and to her horror, it was a man!

Zyriah gasped as she and her husband’s lover locked eyes. Chris shot up. His face filled with confusion, then embarrassed anger. His voice near hysteria, he cried out, “My God, Zyriah, what are you doing home?”

She glared at him, tears of betrayal slipping down her cheeks. “How could you?” she cried, as she fled from the room. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as she ran down the stairwell and out the back door.

The storm had passed and only a light drizzle fell, but she barely took notice. She ran toward the back of their property and into the thick game reserve.

Why? she asked herself over and over until she screamed it into the quiet night.

The trees were a blur as she continued her escape. She slipped and stumbled on the wet grass, finding it hard to keep her footing. Finally, a sharp pinch caused her to double over abruptly. Shoving a fist into her side, she gasped, trying to catch her breath. Then out of nowhere, a bright light shot overhead, followed by a glowing tail only to disappear with a loud crash, causing the earth beneath her feet to rumble.

She froze as thoughts of UFOs ran through her mind. Shaking her head, she scolded herself for her momentary lapse of rational thought. Surely, it was just a downed airplane? Quickly she raced toward the crash.

Zyriah could not believe what she saw once she cleared the trees. The strangest aircraft she had ever seen lay smoldering in a deep pit. She took a nervous step forward as smoke billowed from the back end, causing her to hesitate.

When she reached the small aircraft, she noted the open hatch. Frantically, she searched the wreckage, relieved to find no one inside. A moan spun her around. Her heart in her throat, she saw a man lying on the grass a few feet away. He was dressed in the strangest clothes. His wide chest was bare and leather armbands encased strong muscles. He wore tanned leggings with black boots covering his feet. As he struggled to get up, another ship suddenly appeared, this one slightly bigger.

The craft hovered a few feet from the ground as a hatch from underneath opened, dropping a large man to the ground, holding an odd-looking rod. As he approached, his eyes were hard, his lips pressed tightly together. He stood above the injured man, glaring at him. Suddenly, he lashed out with a booted foot, kicking him in the ribs.

Zyriah screamed at him before she realized her own danger. He looked at her, his thick brows drawn together in anger as his eyes narrowed. Another man descended to the ground, dressed in the same unusual clothes as the other two, causing her to back away.

He slowly began to walk toward her, his face unreadable. With a sharp motion of his hand, he beckoned her to him. Zyriah screamed as she almost stumbled, her feet spurring her back toward the tree line. God above, help me! If she could only reach the safety of the woods, she was sure she could escape.

Suddenly, her ankles were snapped together by twine as she plunged forward, hitting the ground with enough force to knock the breath out of her. She turned kicking and clawing to free herself as he slowly approached. The man was strong, as he showed little effort to secure her wrists tightly. He held a rag over her face as she tried to fight, gasping for air, she inhaled its strange scent and blackness enveloped her.

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