She sighed in disgust and left her dressing room, even more irritated than she had been, and that would never do. She had to calm down before she joined her parents. The last thing she needed was to have her feelings set her mother off again, this time with her father there to witness it and demand explanations.

She circled her room slowly for a few minutes, taking deep breaths, letting the familiar furnishings soothe her. Her collection of moonstones, the only adjustibed in the palace, the chair Dalden broke every time he sat down in it, always making her laugh, which was why she kept having it repaired, and why he kept testing it. She hadn’t seen her brother yet, nor had her pet fembair been by to greet her, but she’d see them both before the day was finished, she was sure.

She was safe here, protected. Falon might have threatened to find her, but he wouldn’t. Not here. And she would stay away from the competitions. Corth could escort her friends back to the park tomorrow if they wanted to go, but she’d find an excuse not to join them.

There, she felt better already. She hadn’t realized she’d been worried about running into Falon again, but she must have been.

With a last deep breath, she left her room, smiled at the servant passing by her door, then stopped dead, seeing the four men who followed the servant. Falon Van’yer was one of them. He stopped, too, as surprised as she was. His three friends turned back to inquire what was keeping him.

Shanelle took that opportunity to slip back into her room. Her heart was pounding frantically. She couldn’t imagine what he was doing in the palace, let alone coming down the hallway from the guest wing. If only she’d waited just a few more seconds before leaving. And, Stars, there was no lock on her door. There were no locks on any doors in the palace because no one would dare enter where he wasn’t welcome.

That thought managed to relieve her a little, until the door pushed against her back as it opened. With a gasp she leaned all her weight against it, but that was about the most wasted effort she’d ever made. It continued to open easily, forcing her to leap away from it before she got squashed.

She turned to face the intruder, not the least in doubt as to who it was. But no words came to order him out; no words of any kind formed as she was struck again by his handsomeness.

Falon stood there in her doorway, grinning at her, satisfaction exuding from him. He was wearing a shirt now with his leather bracs, if it could be called a shirt. It, too, was made of the buttery-soft zaalskin, but was white, and without sleeves, and molded to his chest, or what little it covered of his chest, like a second skin. It ended at his waist, and instead of wrapping around like a warrior’s shirt would, it was fastened tight at his navel with golden links of chain. As a covering, it was totally inadequate, leaving too much bare in the deep V that ended at his navel, hiding none of the strength in his thick arms. The white merely made his skin seem an even darker bronze, which in turn set him further apart from the golden-skinned warriors of Kan-is-Tra.

Shanelle took all this in, including the four-foot-long sword at his left hip, the gold dagger strapped to his right boot, the new sword belt embellished with gold and white scrollwork, but most of all his size, his tremendous height and brawn filling her doorway. All the fear she had felt in his tent was there again, but right beside it was that swirling giddiness she’d felt upon first seeing him.

“I had not thought to find you here, woman.”

“That-that goes double.” Managing that much, it was easier for more words to follow. “This is my room and I’m not inviting you in, Falon, so you can just-”

“I invite myself.”

Putting action to words, he moved forward enough to close the door behind him. Shanelle started backing up, but once those azure eyes returned to her, she couldn’t seem to move another step. Anxiety almost had her wringing her hands.

“Falon, there’s no point to this. A few hours haven’t changed anything.”

“I disagree,” he replied, but didn’t elaborate as to why. Instead his eyes dropped to her waist, now minus the computer-link unit. “Does she still listen?”

“No-yes!” Actually, Shanelle didn’t know, but she doubted it. Martha had no reason to keep monitoring her now that she was in her own home, where things like this didn’t happen. “I’m just going to say this once. Leave.”

It was as if she hadn’t spoken. “I have decided to test the computer’s threats, as should have been done at the first.”

“All right, I’ll say it twice. Leave.”

This time he shook his head slowly, grinning at her again. “We have much to finish between us, woman, all that I said must be done. Best you accept my will in this, for I will not leave you until-”

“Why must you be so farden inflexible? Aren’t people allowed free choice where you come from?”

“I have told you this matter goes beyond rights.”

“In your opinion, not in mine. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just using that amends-making nonsense as an excuse to have me again. But that doesn’t work in my book. I’m still refusing.”

“First do we see to your fear, then will you no longer refuse. If it will relieve your mind, we will not join until you ask it.”

He was remembering her begging him before. She was remembering it, too, and the memory frightened her even more. Was it possible he could bring her to that point again? No, how could he? Before, she had begged for pleasure and release. Now she knew that wasn’t what she would get.

“It won’t happen,” she insisted.

“It will,” he insisted right back as he took a step toward her.

She turned to flee, but was scooped up into his arms instead. “Falon, no!”

“You may tell me no-after we rid you of your fear.”

With that his eyes swiftly roamed the room until they lit on the small bed tucked into a corner. He headed right for it, laying her down and quickly filling the narrow space beside her-and that was when he felt the bed moving to accommodate his longer length and widen for two bodies instead of one.

In an instant, Falon snatched Shanelle around the waist and rolled them both onto the floor and supposed safety, he taking the brunt of the fall on his back, she cushioned, or rather jarred, by landing on top of his hard body. But one glance at his wide-eyed look of confusion-laced horror and Shanelle burst into laughter.

She couldn’t help it. Even when he sat up with her now in his lap and started glaring at her, she continued to laugh, unaware that all of her fear was draining away with it. He’d tried to save her from her bed, for Stars’ sake. Her bed! That stirred the memory of having been told about the time her father had attacked a poor adjustichair for moving under him, and another round of merry notes filled the air.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last, wiping tears from her eyes and smiling at him. But then a devil made her say, “Maybe I should thank you for saving my life,” and back came the laughter, until she was totally out of breath and leaning against him in exhaustion.

When it occurred to her what she was doing, she also realized that she was now cocooned in his arms. A number of other things quickly became apparent-that her fear was’ temporarily gone, that he might have looked annoyed for a moment, but his body gave no evidence of it. His hands were toying with her hair. His heartbeat was rather loud beneath her ear. And she had no desire to move off his lap.

“I am to assume you were in no danger?”

She peeked up at him. He wasn’t annoyed, merely curious.

“None.”

“That thing is not a bed?”

Now she had to smile. “It is, but honestly, it’s not alive. It just enlarges itself to suit body size and count when necessary. It’s supposed to make room for more than one body, but remains compact when not in use. Very convenient for a small room.”