Chapter 2

Constance sat silently in the back of the luxurious hover vehicle as they returned to the sleek obsidian spire of Thompson Tower. Her guards rode with the driver during the trip, but they rejoined her as soon as she stepped out of the vehicle. After undergoing the usual security scans, they ascended rapidly in the private elevator. She could feel Rogut's gaze on her back for the entire trip, and the knowledge sent a chill down her spine. If he had grown bold enough to touch her - to hurt her - how much further would he go?

Oxmar was right - her father would not like the fact that the guard had touched her - but he would be just as displeased that she had visited the market. He might even consider Rogut's actions justifiable punishment. She was still considering her options when the elevator reached the lobby leading to the first floor of the penthouse. Even the lobby was designed to showcase her father's wealth with inlaid marble floors and a glittering chandelier below what appeared to be a glass roof showing the night sky. It was an illusion, of course - a cleverly programmed artificial view.

The ornate double doors on the far side of the lobby swung open as she approached. The guards waited for her to pass through them before they crossed to the smaller door leading to the security office and their quarters. The double doors swung shut behind her with the soft thud of a prison door as a waiting attendant hurried forward to take her cloak.

"Your father wishes to see you, Miss Thompson. He is in the small receiving room."

"Very well. I'll join him there."

She tried to keep her steps from lagging as she made her way through the maze of corridors, ignoring her surroundings. Polished marble floors gleamed beneath her feet and priceless artwork covered the walls, but the whole effect was cold and unwelcoming, more like a museum than a home.

Small was, of course, relative. The small receiving room was actually a spacious room with a high ceiling and gilt-encrusted walls. As usual, her father was seated in a high-backed chair positioned squarely before the floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view over Port Cantor. He was impeccably dressed in an exquisitely tailored suit, every platinum hair in place.

"You wished to see me, Father?" she said, keeping her tone carefully neutral as she crossed to stand before him.

After a brief but significant pause, he raised his head from the data pad he was studying and surveyed her. Those cold blue eyes, so like her own yet completely lacking in warmth, appraised her from head to toe as if searching for any hint of defiance or disobedience. She fought the urge to fidget under that penetrating scrutiny.

"I believe I have secured an appropriate match for you," he said without preamble. "Lord Vexian of the Kalron Clan. It could be an advantageous connection."

Lord Vexian?He was almost as old as her father and his reputation was just as unsavory. If what she'd heard was true, he'd come to Port Cantor because he was no longer welcome on his own planet but he'd brought a good deal of wealth with him and accumulated more since his arrival. Her heart pounded as she tried to think of some argument to convince her father that the marriage was not a good idea, although she knew that his only interest in any potential spouse was as a business transaction to further his interests.

"Surely you don't expect me to enter into an arranged marriage with someone I've never met?" she asked desperately. "We don't even know each other, let alone love each other."

A muscle ticked in his jaw and she knew she'd overstepped, but to her surprise he didn't rebuke her outright.

"Love is a weakness, an indulgence for lesser beings," he said coldly. "Lord Vexian simply desires an untouched, attractive, well-bred female to act as his wife and hostess and he is prepared to pay handsomely for that privilege."

"An undamaged product," she muttered. "One who has not been used and discarded by previous owners."

"That is not amusing, Constance. You should be grateful that I have been so vigilant about preserving your value. As a result, you will be in a position of wealth and status."

And just as trapped as she was now.

"Or would you prefer wandering aimlessly through the marketplace, your time wasted on pointless pursuits?" His lips tightened. "Perhaps you even enjoyed being manhandled by your bodyguard today."

Why was she even surprised that he knew about the illicit visit? At least he seemed annoyed by Rogut's behavior - perhaps even annoyed enough to find her another bodyguard. His next words confirmed it.

"Since we are at a delicate point in our negotiations, I have taken additional steps to ensure that there are no last minute changes in your… status. This is Kalpar. He will be your new bodyguard."

A huge male suddenly stepped out of a corner of the room and she jumped. He had been standing so quietly and she had been so focused on her father that she hadn't noticed him until he moved. How could I have missed him?

He was tall, at least a head taller than either Oxmar or Rogut, but built on leaner lines. His skin was a pale lavender like light reflecting off the edge of a well-honed blade. His hair was a much darker shade of purple and for a hysterical moment she wondered if her father had chosen him because he matched the House colors.

His features were more angular than human but they would have been attractive if they hadn't been locked into such a cold expression. His eyes were a shade of silver so pale they were almost white. As their eyes met, it suddenly felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room and it took far too long before she could force herself to look away. As she did, she noticed the deadly-looking knives attached to his belt and a chill ran down her spine.

"Kalpar will remain with you continuously from now until the negotiations are complete."

He couldn't possibly mean that, could he? The prospect of her already severely limited freedom disappearing completely made her heart flutter frantically.

"Continuously? You don't mean -"

"Continuously," her father said firmly. "Night and day. Kalpar is a Catari," he added meaningfully, and she gave him a confused look.

"Which means I have no interest in any female except my chosen mate."

Kalpar's cold voice should have added to her panic but for some reason she found the deep voice unexpectedly reassuring.

"I'm sure that's very nice, but I really don't need a twenty-four -"

"Continuously."

Her father picked up his data pad again, clearly dismissing her. Long years of experience had taught her the futility of arguing with any of his decisions. She turned towards the door, almost as reluctant to leave as she'd been to enter. Kalpar fell into step behind her, moving so silently that she wouldn't have known he'd moved at all if she hadn't been looking right at him. It took every ounce of self-control not to shiver as his presence enveloped her like an icy shroud.

As soon as they were clear of the door, she gathered her courage and looked up at her new guard. The same emotionless eyes she had encountered earlier looked down at her - and kept looking. Despite his words to her father, the intensity in his gaze suddenly made her wonder if he was as uninterested in women as her father had claimed.

Forcing herself to look away from that intense expression, she headed for the internal elevators. He followed without a word.

"Are you always this quiet?" she finally demanded as they reached them.

A raised eyebrow was his only response.

The elevators were located in the center of the tower. The three banks of elevators in the outer lobby provided access to the lower floors, including the garage and the maintenance area, the other offices and the rooms which housed various live-in staff. One of the small elevators ahead of them only went to their private quarters, while the other went straight to the elaborately landscaped roof. Her father liked entertaining up there - the fact that the area was higher than all of the surrounding buildings a clear testament to his power.

As they reached the elevator, Kalpar reached past her to press the call button and then remained at her side. Very close to her side.

His muscular arm brushed against her shoulder and his cool breath feathered across her face as he stared down at her with those emotionless eyes again. Other than at the formal dances her father forced her to attend, it had been years since she'd been this close to a man - and even then only a handful of men were ever allowed near her - and her body immediately reacted to his presence. Heat flooded through her, chasing the chill from her bones, and she could feel a traitorous blush start to creep up her cheeks.

"May I have some space please?"

He raised an eyebrow again, then took a single step back. It didn't help - she could still feel his presence surrounding her. When the elevator arrived, he ushered her inside then pressed his thumb on the reader. Her heart sank as the doors immediately closed. Her father had given him direct access to their private quarters. She stared straight ahead as they climbed quickly to the next floor, but she was all too aware of that massive body only inches away.

When the doors slid open again, she hurried out into the main hall of the penthouse. This area was as elaborately decorated as the floor below, even though very few people other than her and her father were ever allowed this far, but it was just as soulless.

As she headed towards the west wing where her suite was located, he stayed just behind her, close enough that she could feel the heat emanating from his body. In the past she had always found the silence that followed her bodyguards' departure comforting, but the more time she spent in his silent presence the less comfortable she felt. She would have even welcomed a crude comment from Rogut by now, anything to break the heavy weight of his presence.

When they reached the door to her suite, he opened it and waited for her to precede him before following her into the sitting room. Ignoring him as best she could, she crossed over to her bedroom door, only to find him right behind her again as she stepped through it.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Her voice threatened to tremble as she looked up at that impassive face but he gave no sign that he was aware of her discomfort.

"I am assuming my position."

"Your position?"

"Where you go, I go."

"I'm sure that my father didn't mean actually in my bedroom."

He folded his arms across his chest and raised that damn eyebrow again.

"I will be at your side at all times. When you eat, when you sleep, when you bathe. If you wish me to turn my back at certain moments, I shall. But I will be there."

She had intended to take a long hot bath but the prospect of doing so with him in the room was too unnerving to contemplate. Instead she wandered out onto the balcony that ran along one side of her rooms. It appeared to be open to the air but like so much of her life, it was an illusion. She pressed her hand against the bulletproof glass enclosing it and stared out into the night.

Perhaps it was just as well the balcony was enclosed - at the current moment flinging herself off of it seemed like a more desirable alternative than passing from her father's control into that of another ruthless male, one who didn't even have the shallow tie of blood to restrain his behavior. A tear trickled down her cheek but she refused to give in to despair.

Instead she put her hand in her pocket and closed her fingers around the worn metal of the talisman. The vendor had said it was the first step on the journey to freedom. Now all she had to do was to find the next step.