Really Unusual Bad Boys. MaryJanice Davidson

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Really Unusual Bad Boys - MaryJanice Davidson


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aside, and Damon and his brothers were standing there.

      “Jesus Christ!”

      “By the Great Lion,” one of the brothers whispered. “What a woman!”

      The other brother reached out and touched the puckered bullet scar above her right breast. She smacked his hand away with her fist and clutched the robe to her chest. “Hands off, unless you want to spit out your teeth,” she snapped. The prince’s eyebrows arched as she continued. “You guys might be comfortable walking around without any clothes on, but I’m an old-fashioned girl.”

      “Things are different here,” Damon said mildly, his gaze riveted to the rope burn on her shoulder.

      “Thanks for the news flash. Now buzz off so I can get dressed!”

      “What is it?” the king called weakly. “What is the matter?”

      “Nothing, Father,” Damon said. “Our visitor is simply more beautiful than any of us had imagined.”

      “Lord, what has that boy been smoking?” Lois muttered. One of the brothers edged forward, staring at the knife scar near her belly button, but she kicked out at him, effectively herding him back. The other brother laughed. “Get lost. Go find some other woman to ogle.”

      “Oooh-gull?”

      “Stare at. Gape. Gawk.”

      “I must beg a lady’s pardon, but your beauty robbed us of—”

      “Yeah, yeah.”

      “—our good manners. I am Maltese, second in line to the throne of the SandLands, Prince of the—”

      “Fine, I’m Lois, nice to meet you.”

      The other blond—they were as alike as twins, except this one had eyes the deep green of wet leaves, while Maltese’s eyes were the color of the sea after a winter storm. “I am Shakar, third in line to the—”

      “Meetcha. You mind turning around while I put this on?”

      “I do mind, yes.”

      “I also.”

      She almost grinned. They hadn’t sounded like sarcastic jerks, just honest. “Fine, I’ll turn.” She did, and heard an exhalation of breath come from someone. What now? Were they admiring the dimples on her ass? Christ!

      “How did my lady come here?”

      “To make a long story short, Damon gave me a ride.”

      Zeka gasped. “But the royal family never—”

      “Zeka,” Maltese said reprovingly. “What our good brother does is none of our concern…usually.”

      “Forgive, my good prince.”

      When she turned back, Damon was shooing his brothers away with helpful punches to their shoulders. She opened her mouth but he cupped her chin in one hand, effortlessly stifling her outburst. “I believe I requested you stay in the courtyard,” he said solemnly, but his eyes crinkled at the corners in a friendly way.

      “What am I, your dog? ‘Sit, Lois. Stay.’ Shyeah! Besides, I don’t like being left by myself,” she added in a grumble.

      “Then I shall endeavor to be at your side at all times.”

      “Uh—that’s not exactly what I—”

      “Lois! My good son!”

      “Just a minute, we’re talking. Jeez, sick people, I swear to God. Now, listen, Damon, I gotta figure out about a zillion things, here, like where I’m gonna stay, and—”

      “With me.”

      “Uh. Okay, that’s very nice and all, but—”

      “Put her in the chambers beside mine,” the king called.

      Lois thought that was awfully nice of him, but the effect on Damon was dramatic: his eyes went narrow and flinty and he actually snarled, snarled, like one big pissed-off cat. Puma. Whatever.

      He spun around and stalked back to the king’s bed. “What be you thinking, my good king who will be my dead king if he tries to take my prize?”

      “Peace, my son. The lady needs a chamber appropriate to her station…whatever that will be. And we have agreed those rooms would suit that station, yes?”

      “Uh…yes.”

      “Those rooms have been empty too long. As to the other matter,” the old king added coolly, a tone that caused Damon to flush and drop his eyes, “I have not decided.”

      “What? What does that mean? What’s everyone talking about? Can I get a translator or something? Hey, get your ass back in bed!” She walked over and gave the king a gentle push. He seized her arm with surprising strength, and Lois found herself pulled forward onto the king’s giant bed, with an old man who was as strong as an ox staring right into her eyes. “Listen, buster, I’m all for respecting your elders, but you’ve got about half a second to—”

      “Peace, Lady Lois. I only wished to catch the full effect of your scent.” He sniffed her hair. “Feh! You smell much like my yetch, despite your washup. Damon, see that she gets a proper bath. Lois, when you are clean, come back and tell me more of your world. I wish to hear more about ‘the IA pricks and the dumb-ass political games.’”

      “After you eat your soup,” she said firmly.

      “The child knows our station and yet dares to give the king orders! Well, ’twould not kill me to obey, instead of being obeyed. It will be as you wish, Lois. But you must stay for a long time and tell many stories.”

      Despite Damon’s frown, she agreed.

      Chapter 5

      “Damn!”

      “Is something wrong?”

      “Hardly.” Lois stared at the bathing room. It was about half the size of the king’s chambers, which meant it was the largest bathroom in the galaxy. Instead of a tub, there was a pool in the middle of the room, and from the perfume in the air, it was more of that delicious bathing water Zeka had poured for her. Big bunches of white flowers—the blooms were as big as her fist—floated in the pool. They looked like fluffy orchids. There were several marble countertops scattered about the room, and two people were getting massages.

      “May I bathe with you, Lady Lois?”

      “Uh—” No way. Buzz off. I usually take baths by myself. I doubt I’ll be able to keep my hands off you, so for your own safety… “Sure.” Given that there were at least half a dozen people in the room, she wasn’t worried about her virtue—not that she had any to worry about. Besides, he’d opened up his home to her, and she would have a place to sleep, at least for tonight. To refuse—especially when this society seemed so open about public nudity—would be churlish, to say the least.

      Still, it wasn’t every day she stripped in front of strangers.

      She got out of her robe as quickly as possible, tossed it on a countertop, and stepped down into the pool. She heard a gasp of appreciation behind her and rolled her eyes. What was it with these people? They clearly had her confused with Pamela Anderson.

      The water was deliciously warm, and she sank into it up to her chin. She couldn’t help groaning appreciatively as the perfumed water soothed her all over. “Oh, man, this is the life.”

      “Indeed.”

      She whipped around; Damon had managed to come up right behind her without her hearing him. “Jeez, don’t do that! I swear I’m hanging a bell around your neck.”

      He smiled at her and plucked a flower out of the water. “If it pleases you. Now, you will allow me…?”

      She cautiously approached him, and he plunked the flower on top of her head.


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