Ice Baron (Ice Chronicles, Book One (science fiction romance)) (38 page)

Richert smiled and handed the
tablet back to the guard. “History is made. From now on, I call the shots for Donetsk.”

“Until you’re dead, old man,”
muttered Birn.

Richert scowled. “You are
dismissed. Leave your bars with my men. Your new assignment will be janitor in Omsk’s prison.”

Birn’s mouth opened and closed
like a fish gulping for air.

“Get out.” Bony fingers snapped,
but Richert didn’t look at Birn again. His opaque black eyes glared at the
other occupants of the table. “Any more insubordination?”

Anya itched to tell the old man
off, but kept her mouth shut.

Richert’s gaze lingered on her.
Did a faint smile twitch his lips? The sadistic dictator.

Birn’s fist slammed into the wall
as he exited.

“Good,” Richert said. “Now we can
have a civilized conversation.”

Unable to stay silent a second
longer, Anya demanded, “What do you intend to do with us?”

“If you shut up, I’ll tell you.”

Anya glared. Richert scowled back.

Anya sealed her lips, and crossed
her arms for good measure. Now she was certain that amusement twitched her
uncle’s lips.

“Good,” Richert growled. “You’ll
have plenty of time to talk later. For now, everyone will
listen to me.
I’ve got two orders of business to complete. Then I’ll allow discussion.”

Anya thought of a particularly
pertinent comment she’d like to make, but swallowed it with great difficulty.

“First,” Richert said, “Donetsk now operates under the same laws as Tarim. Same goes for Altai Territory, but that’s a mess. Onred’s daughter remains a threat—she probably escaped, and we
can’t find Cadmus. We’ll sort that out later.”

Ray dared to speak. “How are your
laws different than ours?”

“Good question.” Richert’s gaze
bored into Joshua. “That damn fool protector law is dead. All penalties are
erased.”

Anya’s mouth dropped open. Joshua’s
lifted brow revealed his surprise as well.

“Other laws will change, too,”
Richert finished testily. “Lisa will upload the documents to Zyra this
afternoon.”

Anya’s heart pounded unnaturally
fast. Why would Richert deliberately state that that one, specific law had
changed? She glanced at Joshua. It was almost as if…

“Second,” Richert growled, “since
all power now cedes to me and my heirs, the current baron of Donetsk must surrender
to me all objects of his office. Later, that will include keys, codes, etc. For
now—for symbolism’s sake—he will surrender the baron’s jacket.”

Stricken, Anya gazed at Joshua.
This moment had been inevitable, of course. But it pained her to see Joshua
peel off the baron’s jacket that he had worn for so long and so well. Although
he’d come into power by a fluke of fate, he had earned that jacket, many, many
times over.

Although Joshua’s face appeared
emotionless when he delivered it to Richert, she knew how deeply it must hurt
him to give it up. He had poured his whole life, heart, and soul into Donetsk. And now every bit of the power and respect he had earned would be stripped from
him forever. In that moment, she hated Richert perfectly.

“Now what?” Her voice trembled. “Shall
we all get down and…”

“Watch your mouth,” Richert
snapped.

“You double-crossed us, and you
want me to stay quiet?”

“Anya.”

She fell silent at Joshua’s quiet
tone, but her cheeks felt hot. He was right, of course. Starting a fight would
only deteriorate matters. Richert had won. But it was hard to accept
gracefully.

Richert’s eyes gleamed, as if
pleased by this interchange. His black gaze bored into her. “I’ve said this
before. You look like your mother, but your mouth…and your fiery spirit…come
only from your father.”

Anya wasn’t sure how to respond.
It actually sounded like a compliment. Coming from a crotchety, bitter old man
who had hated her father, she must be mistaken. “Thank you.” Whether she said
it to be polite or sarcastic, she wasn’t certain.

Richert nodded. “Now, to my final
order of business. I am an old man. I’ve decided to transfer the leadership of Donetsk Territory to someone I trust. It will not be my first-in-command, since I’ve
recently learned that he’s been poisoning me.”

Anya gasped.

Richert’s eyes gleamed. “Ironic,
isn’t it? That’s how my brother died. Now my first-in-command will suffer the
same death he designed for me.” He coughed suddenly and harshly, and then
wheezed for air. One of the guards swiftly put an oxygen mask to his mouth.

Long, gasping breaths later,
Richert shoved it aside. “I may die soon. I need someone to take the reins for
me. Since I’ve decided I can trust only family, I’ll transfer leadership of Donetsk to my oldest heir.”

Anya’s gaze swiveled to Dominic.
That’s why Richert’s son had come. Surprise registered on his young face. As
well it might. He was still too young to take leadership. Or perhaps that was
another of the laws Richert had changed. Did it matter, in any case? Richert
was the dictator here. Whatever he said would be. Anya certainly had no say in
the matter. Richert only wanted Joshua, herself, and the other commanders
present to witness Donetsk’s power transfer to his son.

Richert settled Joshua’s jacket
into neat lines on his lap and rolled back from the table. He slowly steamed
for his son.

Anya closed her eyes. This drama
was too much. She just wanted it over. She wanted to ask Richert what he meant
to do with her family and Joshua. And then they could make plans for the
future.

“Open your eyes, Anya,” Ray
murmured.

When she did, she was surprised to
discover that Richert had rolled past Dominic and now rounded the table, heading
toward the commanders on her side of the table. He bypassed both of them, too,
and halted beside her.

Bewildered, she stared at him. Why
had he stopped?

Richert’s papery lips cracked into
a smile. He cackled. “I’ve still got some surprises up my sleeve.” He lifted
the cream jacket and carefully placed it on her lap. “Choose the only man who
will fill this jacket properly.”

Her fingers cautiously touched the
fine fabric, still warm from Joshua’s body. “I don’t understand.”

Richert cleared his throat. “This
coat belongs to my oldest heir. Since she is a woman, the jacket will belong to
her husband. I’m still a chauvinist at heart.”

Richert’s meaning finally
registered. Shocked, she retorted, “I am not
your
daughter.” Her high
voice cracked. “I’m
Jason
Dubrovnyk’s daughter.”

“I thought so, too. For twenty-three
years.” The old man’s eyes glistened. It couldn’t be from moisture, surely. “But
when I met you…there was just something about you. Your fire and gumption were
nothing like my brother.” He cleared his throat again. “He was a mean, sadistic
brute. That morning, back in Aksu, I took your juice glass and gave it to my
lab. They triple checked, to be sure. You are my daughter, Anya Dubrovnyk. Mine
and my Rachel’s.” His hand shook as it smeared a tear beneath his eye. “Like it
or not,” he added gruffly. “That’s the fact.”

Unable to speak, Anya could only
stare at the testy, unpredictable old baron. He couldn’t be right. Her whole
world…everything she had ever believed would turn upside down. But she could
also see that Richert believed he spoke the truth. He would never give power to
Jason’s daughter. He would never cry over a girl who wasn’t his own flesh and
blood.

Her throat felt suddenly full and
choked. Her trembling hand smoothed Joshua’s fine coat. “They lied to you about
the DNA tests?”

“Jason did. I don’t know if your
mother knew the truth.”

Anya swiftly shook her head. “She
didn’t. I would have sensed…something.”

Richert nodded abruptly. “The
jacket is yours. Choose wisely.” He wheeled around, so his back faced her. “The
meeting is over.” Over his shoulder, he added, “But we’ll share ZCA. I’m no
fool.”

Dominic, looking as stunned as the
other men at the table, rose and followed his father out of the room. He was
her
brother.
Her half brother. And Marli and the others were her half
siblings, too. But forever in her heart they would be her whole family.

Anya couldn’t move. She could
barely think.

Ray put a brief, cool hand on her
shoulder. “Congratulations,” he said quietly, and left with the other
commanders.

Only Joshua remained. He took Ray’s
chair and faced her, his knees touching her own. “How are you holding up?”

“I don’t know. I can’t…can’t get
my head around it.”

“It will take a while.”

Anya ran a palm over the smooth
jacket. “The Old Barons’ protector law is dead.” She couldn’t believe it. The weight
of it…the relief…she could barely touch the wonder of it.

Joshua smiled. “I heard.”

“I almost think he did that…for
us.”

“I think he did. In Aksu, Richert
figured out what I felt for you. I tried to deny it, but he wouldn’t bite.”

Anya looked down at the jacket.
Richert had deliberately abolished the law for them. In her heart, she believed
that that had been his complex, inexplicable way of telling her that he loved
her. “He wants me to choose the only man who will fit this jacket.”

“You have plenty of time to look
around. I’m sure you’ll have lots of applicants.”

She looked deep into his tawny
eyes. “Don’t joke about this.
You
are the only man who can fill this
jacket. I know it, and Richert knows it. You’ve earned it a thousand times
over. No one else could take your place.
You
are the Baron of Donetsk.”

“Thank you.” Her words had touched
his heart. Anya saw it in his eyes. And for the first time, she sensed that he
truly believed them, too—that he truly believed in his own worth. The broken
boy from Tash was gone. Only her Joshua, the true Baron of Donetsk, remained.

A small smile edged his lips. “Will
you marry me, then?”

She laughed. “I guess I’ll have
to.”

That velvet brown gaze became very
serious. “Are you sure?”

“Stand up.” Anya stood with him,
and tugged the jacket sleeve over his tanned hand and up his arm, across his
broad back, and helped the other arm through. Then she faced him, her palms on
his chest. “If you can handle an unpredictable wife, and elements of chaos in
your life…”

“I can think of nothing I want
more.”

She smiled. “Then I absolutely
want to be your wife.”

Joshua smiled, too, and his hands
ran down her back and drew her possessively nearer. He murmured, “Donetsk Terr itory needs a baron today.”

She grinned playfully. “Do the orders
begin now?”

“How about persuasion?” His lips
met hers. Warm passion simmered in his kiss, and heat licked through her blood.
“Will you marry me tonight?”

At that moment, Anya wasn’t sure
if she could wait that long. Giddy happiness surged through her. “Yes. Yes,
please.”

“I love you, my sweet Anya.” His
low voice sounded like rough velvet. “You have always been the only woman for
me.” His kiss deepened, until all thoughts left her mind. His hand slid into
her hair and gently cupped the back of her head. He kissed her with a warm
possessiveness which threatened to steal her heart and soul from her body. With
a tiny, joyful sigh, she utterly surrendered her whole heart, soul, and life to
this man. No more fears of rejection, nor of Joshua losing his baronship. Just
the warm bliss of holding the man she had loved for so long.

She whispered, “I love you, too,
my protector.”

*

AUTHOR’S NOTE

I sincerely hope you enjoyed
Ice
Baron
as much as I enjoyed writing it. The story came from a mixture of
several ideas coming together at once. Joshua’s character came first, and then
Anya’s predicament as a bride with little choice. I lived every minute with her
as she jumped out of the shuttle, trying to forge a better life for herself and
peace for her territory. I hope you did, too.

Astana, Donetsk Territory, and the other places in this book are a mixture of fact and fiction. I did extensive
research on Kazakhstan and the Tien Shan mountains to make sure that the
details of the story, although set in an Ice Age, were accurate. 

I had always thought that an ice
age would reduce temperatures on Earth by 20 or 30 degrees.  Imagine my surprise
to learn that during the Younger Dryas ice age, 10,000 years ago, temperatures
only dropped by 7 to 15 degrees Celsius.  However, that is enough to significantly
change the landscape of the earth. As well, to my sometimes crazy imagination, it
also seemed plausible that a world-wide nuclear war could disrupt the Earth’s
atmosphere, and usher in a cataclysmic ice age.  Shiver…