Ice Baron (Ice Chronicles, Book One (science fiction romance)) (22 page)

A faint smile touched his
mouth—still a bit lopsided. “You haven’t explained why you were staring at me.”

“I need to monitor your medical
condition.”

His smile edged up. “What’s your
assessment?”

Her eyes helplessly lingered on
his mouth, and then swept up to his amused, intent gaze.

A bit tartly, she said, “The
patient is demanding, and may need to be restrained.” When he still wouldn’t
release her, she said, “Joshua.” Instead of sounding reproving, as she had
intended, it sounded breathless, and she colored. “Let go.”

His fingers fanned out to cup the
base of her skull. Soft trepidation built inside her. Joshua fully controlled
the moment, as he obviously intended. Anya closed her eyes but, just to set him
back a pace, dipped down to kiss him.

She expected surprise. Instead,
when his warm lips met hers, Joshua firmly but aggressively commandeered the
kiss. A moment later, he teased the seam of her mouth, urging her to open to
him. With a shaking breath, Anya surrendered. It wasn’t a hard decision. She
wanted him so badly that this felt like heaven to her. Slowly, he accepted her
invitation, kissing her with exquisite, savagely gentle heat, so that she
trembled violently. What was he
doing?
He couldn’t possibly…he couldn’t
possibly
mean
this. Could he?

Anya’s senses swam, overloaded,
heated and melting into him. This passionate, yet desperately tender kiss was
nothing like the controlled Joshua she knew—always restrained, always walking
the straight and narrow, always doing the right thing …and yet it
was
him, fully him, and she helplessly responded to his searing, possessive caresses.

Long, dizzying moments passed, and
Anya’s heart beat in fast, heavy thumps. She felt like she was drowning in Joshua.
In the space of seconds, she wanted more of him—impossibly more. All of her
fantasies were coming true, right now. 

Did he feel something for her, like
she had always hoped? It certainly appeared so…unless this was all a dream. If
so, she didn’t want to wake up.

Yet how could this possibly be
real? In the real world they could not be together. Joshua would lose his
baronship. She, her inheritance. They would both be thrown out of the territory
forever. What was more, Joshua’s first-in-command would become baron if anyone
were to see them…fooling around like this. And yet, why would he kiss her now,
if he didn’t feel
something
for her?

When she made a feeble effort to
pull back, Joshua kissed her for another thorough, lingering second. Only then
did he release her. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and his eyes burned a hot,
tawny color. In a low, uneven tone, he said, “Promise me you will marry no one
unworthy of you.”

“What?” She blinked to follow his
train of thought. “I won’t marry. That way you’ll stay baron.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

His dark gaze held hers. “I should
be dead already. I will probably die today. Promise me you’ll marry a worthy
man. But not Pete, if you don’t mind. He’s a hothead.”

“I’m not interested in
Pete
.”
How could he be so obtuse? “I l…”

“Promise me. Consider Birn or Ray.”
His first and second-in-command. “Or even my brother Michael.”

Anya jerked back. “Are you insane?
I don’t want any of those men. I don’t want anyone but…”

“Stop,” he said swiftly, and with
unequivocal finality. “Promise me you will choose a worthy husband. You will
have children and pursue a long and healthy life.”

It finally occurred to her what he
was doing. He was saying goodbye.

“I’m coming with you, Joshua,” she
gritted. “You won’t lock me out again!”

“When my men come, I’m sending you
back to Michael. He’ll keep you safe.”

“I won’t go!” she snapped.

“You will!” His jaw was hard and
uncompromising. “Don’t fight me again.”

She was so angry she wanted to
spit. How could they go from lovemaking to fighting in the space of one minute?
The hardheaded man—Protector. Baron.
Dictator
was more like it
.
“I
will
fight you. And you’re weak enough now that I would win. In fact,
maybe I’ll tie
you
up so you’ll stay safe.”

Anya was flat on her back on the
floor before she realized what was happening. Joshua loomed over her, his face
frighteningly dark. Her mistaken belief in his weakness died a swift, alarming
death. Softly, he said, “Don’t argue with me, sweet Anya, or I’ll show you the
true brute who lives in me.”

“You’d never hurt me.”

“No. But I could make you hate me.
You don’t want that.”

“I could never hate you.”

His gaze, hot now, and dark,
grazed down her body. “Yes, you could,” he said softly. “How easy it would be
for me to ruin your innocent fantasies of me.”

Anya wanted to cover her ears. “Stop
it.” She struggled to get the conversation back on track. “I won’t let you die.
Donetsk needs you—more than it does me.”

“No.”

“Yes. And I think Michael would
agree with me,” she asserted. “You’re pig-headed and blind, but maybe together,
your brother and I could make you see reason. In fact, I think
you
are
the one who needs to be locked up.”

He laughed softly, with genuine
amusement.

“The territory needs you!” She
wanted to slap him. “How can you be so thick-headed? You can threaten and
intimidate me, and breathe orders like a dragon, but you can’t keep me out of
this fight.”

“Oh no?” he murmured.

Her heart beat faster. “Get off.
You’re not a savage, and I am not scared of you.”

“You should be,” he said softly.

She involuntarily swallowed,
finally taking note of the unfamiliar, darkly feral cast of his features. She
had never seen Joshua look like this before. “You won’t hurt me,” she told him
again. “You would never hurt me.”

But Anya did wonder why he was
acting like this. It was as if he wanted to frighten her. But why? Did he want
to discourage her feelings for him? Or was something else going on? Was he
angry because she refused to stay in the safe, protected box where he wanted to
put her? Or was this his means to push her away, because he already regretted
their kisses? Hurt flashed, but she stated evenly, “You can’t make me hate you.”

“You’re wrong. Shall I prove it
right now?” His head dipped to the side of her neck.

“No.” Her heart beat more wildly,
confused by the dark, bottomless emotions she sensed in him. Where had they
come from? Who was he, truly, this man that she loved?

“Promise me, then.” His breath
felt warm and thick on her skin, and she shivered.

“No!” Enraged, she spit it at him.
“You won’t scare me into making promises. Get off me, you big brute!”

With disturbing ease, he stilled
her flailing hands with one hand and pinned them to the aircraft floor. “Promise
me.” His tone was maddeningly conversational, and his breath trickled warm,
electrical charges across her skin.

She swallowed, and breathlessly
said, “No. I said, get
off.
”

His weight pinned her to the floor
now.

“You’re not intimidating me,” she
informed him. “I’m not scared. Now, for the last time, get off.”

His lips nuzzled her neck,
followed by the barest graze of teeth. Anya went very still and her breaths
came even faster. “Joshua, no.” He wouldn’t hurt her. Would he?

“You see me through rose colored
glasses. I am not the man you think I am.”

“You are,” she insisted. “You’re
honorable, trustworthy, brave, and…”

“I am
not.
I am not worthy
of you. Or the baronship.” His head unexpectedly sagged, and his temple pressed
into her neck.

Her heart leaped. Was she finally
getting through to him? “You are.” With no difficulty now, she pulled her hands
free and touched his shoulder. The muscles beneath his baron’s uniform felt
bunched and hard, a testament to the suppressed conflict roiling within him. “Every
Donetski respects you.
I
respect you. You’re the best baron Donetsk Territory has ever had. You’re…”

“A killer. A thief.” His soft
laugh sounded bitter and grim. He went up on his elbows again. Those dark,
unreadable eyes entreated her attention.

Previously, he had told her that he’d
been ordered to murder enemy soldiers. But a thief? “No.”

“Yes. Don’t you know that’s why
they threw me out of Tash?”

She rallied, “If you stole
something, it was for a good reason.”

“I stole money to pay for a
prostitute.”

Anya gasped, then recovered. “You
didn’t.”

“I did. And I’ve done worse.”

She still couldn’t believe it. “You
didn’t steal the money for yourself.”

He said nothing.

She was right. He would never do
such a lowly thing, and at twelve years old! It was inconceivable. After all, Joshua
had said he’d been twelve when he had joined the military. So stealing the money
must have happened prior to that. “Who was the money for?”

Joshua heaved a harsh breath. His
head unexpectedly dipped closer to hers, so his hair pressed into her cheek.
She felt the power of his chest muscles, lightly grazing her breasts, and yet
the press of his head into hers felt like a little boy. “Tell me,” she said
again, but more gently. “Who was it for?”

Joshua said nothing for long
minutes, and then heaved himself off to sit beside her. He looked away, out the
window. “My father,” he said in a barely audible voice.

It was the first time he’d ever
spoken to her about his family. And Anya felt horrified. “Your father asked you
to steal? Why?”

“So he wouldn’t lose his position,
if it was found out that he was stealing money.”

“What position?”

“He was an elder, and in line for
Chief of Tash. He wouldn’t dirty his hands, but his children were expendable.”

Anya began to see the whole
picture, and it chilled her. “You mean he ordered you to steal so he could have
prostitutes. What happened if you refused?”

Still staring straight ahead,
Joshua raised one brow. “Do you need to ask?”

“Yes. Tell me everything.” Softly,
she slid a hand across his broad, muscular back, wanting to comfort him,
wanting to understand everything about him, but most especially this dark part
of his past that she’d never known existed. And yet knowing about it now,
certain things began to make sense. Especially the way he held himself back
from others—always honorable to a fault—but never willing to get close to
anyone. He had set impossibly high standards for himself; this she began to
see. Was it his way to try to atone for his past?

Joshua said in a low voice, “He’d
beat us, or force us to work in the furnace room all night; sometimes for weeks
on end. I tried…” he gave a mirthless smile, “but I couldn’t live without
sleep. And if I failed at school, the beatings were…bad.” Anya suspected that
word was an understatement. “Michael was the youngest. I was the oldest. I didn’t
want Michael or my sisters to grow up like me. I was growing into a soulless
bastard. I hated myself, and I hated the world. Every time I stole or lied, a
piece of me died.”

“Of course it did,” she murmured,
unable to believe what she was hearing. “You’re an honorable man. Stealing and
lying and whatever else he made you do must have killed you inside.” Anya
wanted to wrap her arms around him, but refrained. His posture remained stiff,
withdrawn. He was ashamed of his past…and perhaps even unable to see the man he
had become.

Joshua swiped a hand across his
eyes, and held it there for a brief second. “When I was ten, I told him
I’d
do all the stealing. I told him to leave my sisters and brother out of it. He
agreed.” A bitter laugh escaped. Joshua’s eyes shut and his fist clenched. “I
helped him cheat on my mother. I was the reason she died inside, a little more
each day.”

“Joshua, no!”

“Yes. Yes, I was. When the elders
finally caught me and threw me out in the snow, I was relieved. Finally, my
miserable, worthless life would end. I only regretted that my sisters and
brother would have to take my place.” A long pause elapsed. “It turned out I
was the lucky one. The military saved me. It disciplined me, and eventually
gave me back my self respect.”

“Thank goodness.” Anya’s voice
broke with feeling. “Your father was a horrible man.” No wonder Joshua had
shown no regret that his father was dead. “How lucky you’re nothing like him.”

Quietly, he said, “I was never
meant to become baron, Anya. Your husband will be baron, and that is as it
should be. My life is expendable. Yours is not.” Intense dark eyes bored into
hers. “That is why I will protect you to my dying breath. It is one pledge to
your father I will not break.”

Implying he had broken others. His
kisses, to her? Possibly. In Joshua’s honorable mind, those would be a crime.
No doubt punishable by death. His own death.