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Authors: Michelle M. Pillow

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Supernatural, #Shapeshifter, #Arranged Marriage, #space ship, #Dragon Lords 5, #dragon shifter

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BOOK: His Highness the Duke
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that food necessarily was erotic so much as how the food was displayed. Mounds of

cream were topped with bits of fruit in what could only be compared to the female

breasts. The imagery made her think of her own breasts covered in such a way, ready to

be devoured. Aeron tried to cross her arms over her chest, but the belt restraint held

them low.

The next corner was a steaming tub of water. An array of oils and strange bottles

surrounded it. The basin was big enough to hold three people. Finally glancing at the

oversized Bron, she quickly amended—two people. In the third corner a table had been

set up with an array of silk straps, iron shackles, an assortment of whips and other

items she‘d rather not look at too closely.

―Decide,‖ Bron said when her gaze turned to his. The low accented words were

foreign yet seductive. The fire from the torches danced in the depths of his dark eyes.

She wished she could see his face, but the mask hid his features from view.

―Decide what?‖ she asked, almost afraid of what the answer would be. She

looked at his neck, to the bright glow of the crystal. Only then did the full realization of

why he‘d asked her to follow him sink in. Somehow, he thought she was his bride. She

had been so worried about being caught by the Federation before she had a chance to

talk to the Draig authorities, that she hadn‘t considered one of the men actually

mistaking her for a mate.

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His Highness The Duke

His lips twitched up in amusement. He had a great mouth. The low sigh that

followed the expression was unmistakable. The firelight in his eyes seemed to come to

life, as if illuminating from within him rather than a reflection.

―I think you found the wrong woman. You see, I‘m not actually here to get

married. I‘m here to talk to one of your superiors about something that is classified.‖

She motioned to his neck. ―You can turn that necklace off now.‖

His smile faded and for a long moment he didn‘t move, merely stood before her.

He touched his glowing crystal, as if considering it. She took a slow step away from

him, concerned by the overly serious way he was looking at her. If he chose to take her

by force there would be no stopping him. His size against her laughable fighting

defense abilities?

Yet she didn‘t feel aggression in him. He made no move to harm her. In fact, his

movements appeared purposefully gentle, as if he kept himself back from her as not to

scare her. The gesture was greatly appreciated. She couldn‘t fight off this man and her

desire for him at the same time. Aeron breathed heavily, trying to calm her nerves. The

sooner she found a way off this planet, the better.

* * * * *

Bron bowed his head, staring into the depths of his crystal. What was

happening? What did she mean she was not here for marriage? She was with the brides.

Galaxy Brides Corporation had assured them all the contracts were in order. As he did

every year, the palace steward had read them over and confirmed the assessment. No

chance would be taken when it came to the happiness of marriage.

Bron‘s crystal glowed brighter when he was around her. He felt its energy inside

him, telling him that she was meant to be his wife, his life mate, his High Duchess.

Beyond that, his body pulled toward her, every fiber inside of him needing her. That

was all the proof he needed. This woman was to be his wife. She was his destiny. That

was all he needed to know. The rest were just details.

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Michelle M. Pillow

His heart began to physically ache, as if one of King Attor‘s evil Var soldiers

reached inside his chest and squeezed. The Var were their sworn enemy, living to the

south of the Draig borders. At this moment, he‘d rather face a hundred of the Var cat

shifters than the disheartening words of this woman. If she refused him, he would be

forever alone. This was his one chance, a chance that came after several hard years of

worrying and waiting. He couldn‘t let her go. He needed to convince her.

Bron took a deep breath. He was a warrior. He was a man of honor. He did not

back down from a challenge. He would prove himself worthy and his family line would

be blessed by his marriage. No matter what it took, the delicate, nervous woman before

him would be his wife.

―Decide, Aeron,‖ he said, wishing he was allowed to say more. But, until she

made her decision, he had to trust fate. He couldn‘t say too much, only prove himself in

actions. He thought about touching her, proving to her that she felt as strongly as he

did, but something in her face kept him back. It wasn‘t necessarily fear, but a deep

apprehension. He didn‘t want to scare her away from him.

Patience. He needed patience.

And an ungodly amount of luck.

Most men loved this night, joked about the teasing games, bragged good-

naturedly about how they got their wives to accept them. Seven years of waiting had

taken their toll on him and he was ready for the decision to be made. Bron didn‘t want

games or wondering. Not right now. He wanted to know she was his, forever. He

forced himself to calm. He had to trust the gods knew what they were doing.

―I‘m not sure what you‘re asking me to decide, Bron,‖ she said. Her words were

slow and very pronounced. ―Perhaps we could find someone who speaks the star

language fluently?‖

―I speak fluently,‖ he answered.

Walking to the table where binding straps had been laid out, he scooped up

several into one hand. Purposefully, he laid one at each corner of the bed. Her eyes

never left him and he caught her looking him over with interest. He relaxed a little. At

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His Highness The Duke

least she was not immune. He took a deep breath, catching her scent. Yes, definitely

interested. The smell of her unfurling desire filled his head. It took every bit of training

he had not to throw her down and give in to his animal instincts.

Slowly, he crawled onto the bed to lie on his back. He lifted his arms to the straps

and spread his legs, offering to let her tie him up. If it would help her nervousness—not

to mention keep him from losing his mind and devouring her whole—he was very

willing to let her bind him and explore. Well, at least let her go first. Later he would be

doing the same to her, but that would have to wait until after the Breeding Festival was

over. There would be no consummation this night.

―Decide,‖ he whispered.

―Oh, you mean for us to…‖ Aeron looked around the tent nervously. ―I‘m

flattered by your offer of physical sex, but unfortunately I…‖ Her hands lifted and were

caught by the traditional gown‘s ties. ―Excuse me a moment, it would be rude to rip the

gown since technically I‘m not here to marry and will need to return it to Galaxy Brides.

But I really need to get out of these,‖ she strained her arms against the straps, ―these

things.‖

There wasn‘t much privacy within the tent, so she went to the corner of the bed

and hid behind the revealing gauze near his head. Bron silently rolled off the bed and

moved to get a better view. Consciously she kept her back toward him as she slid out of

the gown and leaned over to pull the straps off her arms. He watched the material glide

off her flesh to reveal the delicate curve of her hips and ass. The scent of her became

stronger.

Sweet. So sweet. And so fragile.

He clenched his fists, resisting temptation. Bron stepped into her peripheral

view. She quickly pulled the gown back on, leaving the straps off her arms. Taking the

now dangling material, she wrapped and tied the straps around her waist. Her mouth

opened, as if intent on scolding him for watching, but he interrupted her.

―Beautiful,‖ he said. ―Decide.‖

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Michelle M. Pillow

Bron shifted his hips, trying to relieve the pressure of the material against his

sensitive arousal. Aeron quickly looked away and politely pretended not to have

noticed his reaction to her. He suppressed a laugh. There was no shame in wanting.

He wanted to touch her. The elders had warned the grooms that this night would

be one of the hardest of their lives. He hadn‘t fully understood what they meant until

this moment. The Draig kind acted on instinct, but on this night honor dictated they go

against instinct, fight their innermost desires, and abstain from claiming the one thing

they were meant to want most. To resist temptation was to show respect to their mate.

It was to deny themselves for the comfort of the women, to prove they were able to act

with reason and dignity. It was to give them the freedom to make the decision without

the pressure of an overzealous husband letting things go too far. Temptation was fine,

even encouraged, for the chase was enjoyed by many of his kind. Bron would gladly

chase this woman across the universe, if only she would put him out of his current

misery and claim him as her husband.

Aeron‘s eyes traced the edges of his mask. He willed her to take it off of him, to

signify her acceptance of their future and to free him to speak without restrictions.

―Would you mind removing your…?‖

He grinned. No, he would not mind it at all. He‘d remove anything she asked

him to.

―I uploaded the information Galaxy Brides had available on the ship, though

some of the information conflicted what I previously heard about your planet. Logically

speaking, I have serious doubts as to the accuracy of Galaxy Brides‘ reporting practices.

Some of their claims about this planet seemed a little too much like propaganda and

there was no language upload. Prospective brides should at least be able to understand

the native language. I have half a mind to contact the… Sorry, I digress. I was saying, I

know the mask is part of your ceremony, but could you take it off without it meaning

marriage?‖

He frowned, but nodded. Yes, after the ceremony he could remove the mask

himself if she did not do it by morning‘s light. It was not as if the failed bachelors were

40

His Highness The Duke

expected to live with the shameful reminder of their unsuccessful wedding nights for

the rest of their lives. No mask was needed in such a case. Those men who did not keep

their brides wore the scars within for the rest of their lives. It could be seen in their

hollow eyes and dead hearts. Such men were painful to behold.

Bron willed her to take the material from his face, aware that she may possibly

have misunderstood him when he answered her with merely a nod. But, tradition

deemed him to be mostly silent and technically it was not a lie, not technically. He

would not end up a hollow shell of himself. No, he would marry this woman. He had

to.

―Oh, good. It is unsettling to have a conversation when I can‘t see your face.‖

Aeron gave a small sigh.

Bron leaned his head toward her and angled it to the side, not lifting his arms.

He would
not
be one of those unfortunates who failed. Let her misunderstand. When he

could speak openly, he would explain all she wanted to know. She reached for the

material and pulled. A great relief washed over him. It was done. Lady Aeron was his.

41

Michelle M. Pillow

Chapter Four

Aeron started to relax when Bron didn‘t act aggressively toward her, at least not

aggressive in a way that made her fear for her safety. It would appear, though barbaric

in attire and primitive of planet, he was a gentleman—despite the physical invitations

and non-too-subtle innuendos.

As the mask revealed its secrets, her breath caught. She hadn‘t been expecting his

strikingly handsome face to be more intimidating than the faceless mask. His

expression was probing. She thrust the mask toward his chest and let go. It slid down

his tight body. Without looking, he caught the material in one hand at his waist and

tossed it aside. Aeron followed it with her eyes to where it landed on the ground.

When she looked back at him, he had moved closer. Aeron shivered. There was

lustful intent in his gaze. His nose was straight, his cheekbones high like his people,

leading to deep set eyes. She drew her fingers forward to hold him back, but then

thought better of it as they neared his stomach. Heat radiated from his body, the

sensation more intimate than any she‘d felt in a very long time. The smell of him wafted

around her—fresh breeze and earth and erotically charged male. Her back hit the corner

of the bed, all too aware of his nearness.

―A wise decision,‖ Bron said. ―Now we may speak openly.‖

―Ah, uh, thank you?‖ Aeron inched to the side. His eyes followed her but he

didn‘t stop her. When she managed to put distance between them, she took a deep

breath. She had hoped to talk to him to find out who she needed to give her information

to, but seeing him made the words stick in her throat. Taking the mask off was

supposed to make her feel at ease. It didn‘t work. ―I shouldn‘t have asked you to take

off the mask. We should get back to the feast. Maybe you can put it back on and find

someone else to do the ceremony with—‖

―It is late. The feast tables are being cleared. If you desire food that is not here, I

will summons a servant to bring more. It is the greatest desire of my people to be of

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