Feline Predators Of Ganz - Zorroc Part 7

"Ugh, the stench is almost unbearable, we both need to get clean; then I will lie down with you and hold you until you drift off to sleep." Although at that moment, he feared he would never let her go again. She remained quiet, too quiet. He glanced down to find her fast asleep. He smiled. His mate had had another very busy day.

Chapter Ten.

"Where are we?" Cat wanted to know. Dee sat perched on the side of the platmat looking concerned but unflappable and of course voluptuous, gorgeous, and fresh as a morning breeze. Cat figured her own appearance would be an exact ant.i.thesis of her friend's. Ugh. Then she remembered what had happened which set off a barrage of questions that began firing from her lips. The first being, "Where is Zorroc? I know he was with me, right? And, how can you be here? Aren't you supposed to be on Zeba II? How long have I been asleep? Am I back on Zeba II? Did they drug me, or something? Sheesh, I'm confused," she admitted, finally out of charges.

Dee thought she had good reason to be confused and commenced explanations. "We're on the small s.h.i.+p that came to your rescue, they call it a Pod. We're approaching the mother s.h.i.+p that was sent to intercept us." Dee had watched her friend sleep for the last ten minutes, not wanting to wake her from mind healing rest. Zorroc had a.s.sured her that Cat had not been harmed but Dee wanted confirmation from Cat's own lips. "Zorroc is a.s.sisting with the landing arrangements," she continued, "and sent me to wake you so you could dress and be ready to meet the crew of the Miramid."

Cat looked under the covers and colored noticeably. Dee hid a grin. She wrapped herself in the blanket, hopped off the mat, and proceeded to the clothes cove asking Dee to keep talking while she dressed. Dee had to admit that she seemed absolutely 'Cat normal'.

"I was one of the crew members chosen to extricate you from the Dargons but at the time you only had eyes for your cat man," Dee complied sounding genuinely amused. "You probably wouldn't have recognized me anyway. d.a.m.n, covered with Dargon guts twice in one day, I stayed in the clean-room for forty minutes.

"But we sustained no injuries, Cat; it was a clean operation, unless you count the innards of the Dargons, that is. I'm sure they're not too happy at this point in time."

Cat emerged from dressing with emerald eyes flas.h.i.+ng and moist, "Thank you for coming for me, I couldn't ask for better friend; but what were those Gattonians thinking to allow you to partic.i.p.ate in something so dangerous. The Dargons seemed excessively fond of females but whether for food or sport, remains unknown, and thanks to you and the others I'l never find out. Jesus Dee, if I'd been there any longer I don't think I'd be here any longer," she shuddered at the admission. Cat filled Dee in on the surreal particulars.

"You clapped, you actually clapped?" Dee groaned; she didn't know whether to laugh or pull out her hair at Cat's blatant audacity. She had a habit of recklessly charging in when she should be standing back and weighing her options. "Did it ever occur to you that he might have taken offense? What if clapping const.i.tuted some form of scathing insult, requiring death? Sweetheart, we're not in Kansas anymore," she concluded in her best Dorothy impersonation.

"I'm not sure it wasn't some form of 'scathing insult'," Cat replied. "If you had arrived one minute later, I would have either been dead or wis.h.i.+ng I were," she confessed with unusual seriousness. Then she remembered the most bizarre part of her adventure. "Guess what his name was Dee, just guess," she squealed in obvious delight. At Dee's blank look, Cat couldn't contain herself. "Gorn, he called himself, Gorn, can you believe it? I thought he was kidding and almost laughed but caught myself in time. These guys take themselves more seriously than Gattonians."

Dee groaned again at how that must have been interpreted by her captures. Cat had been very lucky.

In one of their rare relaxed conversations, Prolinc had confided to Dee that one of the nicknames he had for Cat was Pinball. Dee had gotten so used to Cat's modus operandi that she hadn't understood the significance of the name, now however, seeing Cat transform in typical Cat fas.h.i.+on, she understood how she must come across to the very deliberate, controlled Gattonians. Cat shone like an inextinguishable light in the night, she couldn't be beaten and she invariably found something humorous or positive in every situation, her latest near death experience obviously counted as no different. Like a ping-pong ball on an ocean, she may become temporarily submerged by a wave but inevitably would pop back up to the top.

Dee wondered, once again if Zorroc had any idea of the precious gift that was Cat...holy cow patties, what would Zorroc make of Cat's episode with the Dargons when he learned the details? Well, she wasn't going to be the one to tell him. She might tell Prolinc; maybe she could get him to crack a smile. Felines were supposed to be curious, playful and impulsive like Spock, but just thinking of Prolinc and Spock in the same admixture const.i.tuted an oxymoron. Gattonians had deliberate, controlled, somber, almost brooding temperaments except they didn't show that much emotion; and Prolinc proved the worst of the pack. The closest he'd come to a smile occurred when they had their almost interlude in the meadow. Dee'd spotted a telling grin of fierce satisfaction and a definite gleam in his vivid, green eyes for a brief moment before the attack.

Since arriving back on the Pod, however, he hadn't given her a glance either in interest or with his usual scowl. He had no doubt come to his senses and wouldn't bother to pursue her now that the mother s.h.i.+p prepared to intercept them. His obligation toward her had been fulfilled. At least they hadn't consummated their disunion. Then she'd be feeling even stupider than she did now. Oh well, nothing like a new man to help you get over the old one, maybe she'd check out Rosik. The crew quietly bandied about tales of his prowess in battle and in bed. He was said to be charismatic and sinfully sensual even for a Gattonian; and irresistible to any female he wanted. Maybe he'd help her forget her very un-charismatic cat man. When Cat inquired about the Miramid, Dee launched into all she had heard, enthusiastically.

"Rosik is first in command and he's supposedly impossible for the female gender to resist. He lost his family in the first clash with the Dargons and since then, has been cutting a very wide swath through the female population on several galaxies.

"With Angel mated to Carpov and you with Zorroc; maybe I'll stand a chance with him." Dee hadn't yet broached the subject of the mate mark she'd detected on Cat's neck but when in a conversation with Angel through COM relay, she'd told her all about the mating ritual and irreversible ramifications. Divorce did not exist for Gattonians, like everything else; they took their vows very seriously. Angel had explained that lifemating consisted of three parts. 'The Granting' in which the male asks the female to mate and she accepts. 'The Claiming' where the male enters the female after preparing her; and 'The Taking' where the union is consummated by a mating bite or tattoo to show possession and a bound union. If Cat, by far the most forthcoming of the three; had lifemated with Zorroc voluntarily it would have shot out of her mouth with the speed of light. Dee looked briefly uncomfortable, focusing on Cat's neck, before finis.h.i.+ng her dissertation on Rosik.

Cat wondered exactly how much she had missed with her two-hour nap. She'd thought Dee and Prolinc had bonded together like two active atoms reacting explosively until smashed together to form an inseparable element. The sparks that the two had been shooting last time she'd seen them together burned hotter and much friendlier than the former encounters she had witnessed. What happened to change that? Dee acted every bit as unreadable as Angel; why couldn't Cat do that? You'd think that growing up with two enigmatic glacier geishas would have given her similar skills. Why did her every thought have to be plastered on her features like yesterday's news? And even worse lay in the fact that Zorroc could pluck it out of her head if any doubt existed.

The panel whooshed open and Cat noticed Prolinc's countenance seemed even more inscrutable than normal, as if his body had shown up without his mind. He ignored Dee like she wasn't in the room and addressed her.

"We have landed and are ready to disembark; you will follow me." Prolinc ordered distractedly. How had the Dargons found them, he wondered yet again, and why had they seemed intent on capturing the females? Cat had told Zorroc they looked for one particular female, what could that mean? From the corner of his eye he noted Dee's slightly mutinous, confused expression. She did not understand, that, although he had interest and plans for her, his primary allegiance remained to Zorroc, Gattonia...and eventually to Nadia. He sighed; life seldom proved convenient.

As Dee and Cat moved as one toward the exit, Cat straightened to her full height and showered him with a factious glower. She decided she wasn't happy with these Gattonians. Why did he ignore Dee? Where was Zorroc? "Where is Zorroc, he owes me a long soft rub and a lot of holding."

Prolinc shot a look at Dee as if to ascertain whether this pa.s.sed for common earth banter for women, but Dee just looked at him guilelessly, like inquiring minds want to know. He got the feeling they were laughing at him but could not determine the jest. He had yet to understand the female of this species.

"Zorroc has duties and obligations to attend to now that we have arrived, I will be your escort off the Pod and to your new quarters." His attention eerily unreadable. "Zorroc sent this, he wishes you to wear it."

She leaned down to inspect the band with interest. Four inches wide and made of three intertwined metals each with its own texture and color; it looked as exotic and complex as Zorroc, himself. She recognized the crest; it matched the ring that he wore on the middle finger of his left hand.

When Cat reached to take it from Prolinc he grabbed her hand, slid it above her elbow, and tightened it flush with her skin. It gave with the movement of her bicep but remained fastened securely.

"How does it come off?" she asked uneasily. She began to examine it more carefully to determine its purpose and workings. Was it some sort of slave I.D. band or maybe a concubine shackle designating owners.h.i.+p? Dark feelings clouded her mind and blotted her vision. If it were some sort of marriage band, Zorroc would have presented it himself and asked her to marry him. Wouldn't he?

Her fears were confirmed as Prolinc announced, "It is permanently fastened. Now you will follow me, if you please." It was not a request and Dee seemed to dislike the implication of the band as much as Cat. She stepped in front of Cat and took up a relaxed fighting stance that Prolinc didn't seem to recognize.

"Come on, Lincky, don't I get one too?" An irresistible compunction a.s.sailed Dee to strip Prolinc of his thick veneer of control and unveil the beast within.

Prolinc looked thoroughly non-pulsed as he informed her that hers would be along later and reiterated that they were expected at the exit momentarily.

"Sorry sour-puss," Dee corrected, "but the only place we're going is home, I know how the Pod operates and how you Gattonians operate and frankly we choose the Pod, so go on to your wonderful mother s.h.i.+p and let us fly away home." Dismiss her as if she were a part of the air would he? She would just see about that.

Did Dee actually expect it to be that easy, Cat wondered; but looking at the determined expression on her face told her she was begging for a fight and confident she'd get one. Cat thought it would prove an educational experience for both of them and stepped back to prepare for the show. Cat knew the Gattonians wouldn't lift a hand toward a weaker female species because of their superior size, strength and control so she wasn't nervous about who would best the other. She grinned; let the games begin. As if Dee had read her mind, she stepped forward and told Prolinc to move aside. He froze in Gattonian control awaiting her finger in his chest; instead, he got a knee to the groin, a karate chop to either side of his neck and a double fisted blow between his shoulders on his way down.

It ended in less than five seconds. Dee turned with a satisfied smirk and said, "Um, just p.u.s.s.ycats. Let's see how much mischief we can incite. Most of the crew will have already exited the s.h.i.+p and no one will know our plans, so act natural and let's head toward the navigation center." Dee sauntered out the exit and headed down the hall. Cat followed, wondering just how far they'd get before being reeled back in. Even though she knew what Dee proposed would ultimately prove futile; Cat thought that they'd scored a small victory. Sometimes minor battles proved the most satisfying. They reached the navigation center to discover it deserted. Jesus, Cat thought, were they really going to try this? What would they do if they succeeded?

Just as the entrance panel slid shut, it opened up again. Zorroc appeared with three of his crew; Sycor looked as if laughter was about to burst from his eyes while the other two projected abject wariness, as if ready to protect their private parts at all cost. Zorroc looked furious. Oops, Cat thought. The three flanked Zorroc and circled Cat and Dee.

"What are your intentions," Zorroc grated roughly, lasering them both with an amber fired glare.

"What does it look like," Cat responded, "we're going home. Dee's a pilot and has been observing the flight procedures needed to navigate us out of here and we're out of here," she dared. It was childish but she wanted to strike back at Zorroc for not coming for her himself-that and his imperious self-control and cold-hearted dedication to duty, of which she was one. Apparently a minor one.

"Take her," Zorroc pointed at Dee, "put her in retention, and secure her. Leave us."

Cat jumped in front of Dee and confronted Zorroc. "Just what do you intend to do with us, because where Dee goes, I go; and I will tell you right now that no one lays a hand on either one of us. I am sick unto death of being ordered about, manhandled and in general treated like a cat toy you can pull out and play with when it suits you then ignored out of paw. And just what is the significance of this band?" She held out her arm for his inspection.

Zorroc, Sycor, and the other two crewmembers froze like inert objects. Prolinc, arriving behind them, had no such movement problems; he stormed around the inert objects, skirted Cat, who knew better than to get between the two of them and watched as Prolinc advanced on Dee. Dee looked like a ferocious kitten. "You will accompany me now," he ordered softly. Cat noted that, for once, his feelings were clear; he was livid. She had second thoughts about interfering, would he hurt Dee, after all? If Dee had wanted a reaction, she had certainly hit the jackpot.

Dee beamed a drop dead, radiant smile at Prolinc, sauntered up to him, patted his cheek and said, "What took you so long, sweetheart, lead the way." She turned to Cat, winked, and then glided sensually out of the room. All male eyes riveted to Dee's behind as she left. Cat thought them pathetically easy to read. Things were definitely looking up until she noticed Zorroc's gaze had focused unerringly on her.

"Prepare to disembark immediately," he spat at the remaining crew, his gaze still locked with hers. The males shot through the exit and secured the panel behind them while Zorroc studied Cat. Her heart began a staccato beat as she tried to discern his next move. She didn't have long to wait. He moved closer and gently touched the back his fingers to her cheek, captured a wayward curl and fondled it slowly before tucking it behind her ear. His behavior confounded her, she'd expected anger, demands, explanations; almost anything except what he now allowed her to see. He looked defeated. How had that happened, didn't he know she'd never had serious intentions of leaving him? She had simply been supporting Dee's momentary "Star Wars" fantasy; she knew they'd never let them depart with one of their Pods. Was this some new way to manipulate her? If so, it was working like a charm. What did he expect of her?

He lifted one side of his mouth a fraction and thought it a very good question. Word of her attempted escape would spread like wild fire to the crew of the Miramid. It would probably be viewed with varying negative pre-conceptions, which he began to tick off to himself. His mate intended escape; if he could not control his female, what did that say of him as a leader; he had made the wrong decision in bringing the earth women here and then lifemating with one; it had led them into another confrontation with their enemies...the list could go on and on. It had been difficult to persuade many of his people that this represented an essential course of action. Many just wanted to try to find a cure for the virus and restore fertility to their females. They actively pursued that option, of course; indeed, Carpov and Angel worked around the clock on the planet Jasper, the only inhabited planet of the three available for their survival. The Jasperi, though not particularly advanced technically, and all but defenseless militarily, had given up their main laboratory and three of their top scientists to a.s.sist in a cure and antidote for what they had labeled FIS, Female Infertility Syndrome. Even if they came up with a cure, it may not save him now from political ruin. He would lose face. His enemies would rejoice. And what of Cat? Would she stay with him in disgrace or choose to go back to her home planet and her former way of life, but without her friends?

Cat waited for him to speak but how to explain? Maybe he would go with her and live on Earth for the remainder of their lives. He was weary of the responsibility and pain of watching his people suffer. Walking away seemed suddenly an irresistible temptation...however, one he would never take voluntarily. His commitment to his people ran far too deep and ingrained to let him give up his responsibilities. He would stand and fight his enemies in whatever form they took and Catarina would remain by his side to a.s.sist him.

"How are you feeling, Catarina? Are you rested?" he whispered with a self-deprecatory smirk. He knew he had confused her with his reaction; he himself was confused at his behavior. He should be railing at her, punis.h.i.+ng her for her actions but he could not bring himself to do so. He was the one at fault. He had not told her of his status as leader of his people, had not spoken to her of the sensitive political situation created by the Dargon virus, had not even brought home the significance of the mating mark on her neck. If he had explained these things, the current situation, most likely, would not have arisen. He had miscalculated once again.

"I am feeling decidedly confused. Why did Prolinc force this on my arm; he told me it was permanent, that it couldn't be removed. What is it for?" she finished in a breathless rush. She knew her actions had caused problems, she just couldn't figure out how. She played a very small p.a.w.n in a very large game. How could anything she did hurt him in any way? And she wanted to be held and rea.s.sured, if he could read her mind, how could he not know that, and if he knew but didn't want to hold her, what did that mean? She peered up at him looking for answers.

He gave her one of his rare smiles and encircled her with his arms, his warmth, and his scent. She hugged him back fiercely, pressing her face into his hard chest. He whisper-purred her name and when she looked up to meet his gaze, he cradled her head with one large hand and lowered his lips to hers in a mind shattering, open-mouthed kiss. He kissed her as he had never kissed her before, with warmth, intense pa.s.sion, tenderness. The tenderness was new. She reveled in it. When he broke the kiss, she groaned in protest and then heard a small choir of chuckles coming from behind him. They had company. She peeked around him to see a group of unfamiliar faces. She knew without being told which one was Rosik; the rumors about him had not been exaggerated, he looked sinful. Zorroc growled. She smiled.

"What is it Rosik, I am occupied," he grated in a voice filled with frustration and chagrin.

"We heard that an attempted escape, by two of your earth women, had taken place and decided to investigate, but as with most rumors, it proved a great exaggeration-unless you intend to send this one to Nirvana with your attentions. I think perhaps, she already has traveled part of the way.

"Is she yours Zorroc, or can she be shared, I would be delighted to escort her the remaining distance to completion," Rosik offered as he proceeded into the room and stood too closely in front of Cat. The commander exuded such raw, potent s.e.x appeal that Cat grabbed on to Zorroc to keep from being sucked into his vortex. As quickly as the feeling had begun, it vanished. What had happened? Rosik had stilled, in statue mode, in front of her then abruptly moved back three paces.

"My apologies, Mi Divitta, I meant no disrespect," he murmured as he turned toward Zorroc. "Obviously, our a.s.sistance is not required but since we are here we will escort you onto our s.h.i.+p in formal procession."

As they proceeded toward the exit Cat mindspoke to Zorroc, asking what had happened back there. He replied that Rosik had tried to trance her then went on to explain that it was a form of hypnotism used by the Gattonians to control others. "He should not have employed it to attract you; in fact it should not be used for s.e.xual attraction or gratification at all; unfortunately not everyone adheres to our strictures. Rosik remains an unrepentant rogue and proud of it. If not such a valued warrior, he would no doubt be reprimanded, and for his conduct toward you, he may very well be," He placed a proprietary hand at the base of her spine. Obviously, Zorroc did not share his toys, Cat concluded; she heard a responding rumble.

Zorroc read the fear and confusion infusing Cat's mind. They had exited the Pod to a formal Gattonian greeting of respect for their leader. Every male and female knelt on bended knee, right fist over heart, left arm extended toward him. He had not expected the show of support they bestowed upon him; he was touched...and embarra.s.sed by their loyalty. He bowed his head; the sign for them to rise; and thanked them for coming to their aide in such a timely manner. He told them that he owed them his life and the life of his mate and that he was more grateful than he could express.

The crew cheered. Gattonians cheering? Cat felt like she had swallowed a golf ball as she stared at the exhibition before her. She stared open-mouthed at Zorroc. Who was he? They treated him like some sort of king or something. h.e.l.l, Americans didn't treat their President with that kind of reverence. What had she gotten herself into? A litany that continued to grow with maddening consistency, since first setting eyes on Zorroc. She located Dee and Angel in the crowd to find them almost as stunned as she, herself.

Angel looked positively luminous. Happiness seemed to envelop her like the silvery long flowing gown she wore. She resembled a dark, ethereal angel, which she certainly epitomized. Carpov definitely agreed with her.

The crowd parted for Zorroc and Cat like the red-sea, in order to let them pa.s.s. A contingent of guards flanked them. Cat became uncharacteristically subdued as they made their way on to the Jet-quik that would take them to their quarters. She felt them drop rapidly leaving her stomach behind, similar to the times she'd ridden a particularly steep roller coaster. The interior of the s.h.i.+p, though larger and more opulent, reminded her of the Star-s.h.i.+p Enterprise. She began to think that there was no such thing as science fiction...just future science. With all the people she had observed above, she realized the s.h.i.+p must be ma.s.sive of size, similar to the huge vessel in Close Encounters of the Third Kind...or a medium city the size of Nashville.

Their quarters, beautifully lush and detailed, overflowed with thick, richly colored carpets and intricately designed works of art. Easily twice as large as the quarters they had shared on the Stellar, her gaze swept by and then riveted on to a now familiar crest of ma.s.sive proportions that hung above the huge platmat, the same crest worn by Zorroc and now her. Who, in heaven's name was this guy?

Zorroc eyed her uncomfortably.

Chapter Eleven.

"There are things I should have told you, things you need to know. I will talk and you will listen until I am through, do you understand and agree?" He looked impossibly harsh and serious. How many shoes did this cat man have, because she felt another one about to drop? She nodded.

"I belong to the House of Ra. It is a powerful house, a ruling house. I am ruler of my province and Supreme Leader of my people, as my father before me, but I am also young and there are those who seek to use this as an opportunity to take my power and strip me of my station. The opposition grew stronger when the Dargons attacked, I sometimes wonder if...but that does not pertain right now. As I stated, I have political enemies that question my strength of command; that is why, when you and Dee staged your escape, it could have been interpreted as a sign of my inept.i.tude. After all, how can I rule my people when incapable of commanding the respect and support of my mate?"

He continued, "I ask that you show me that respect in the same way you support your friends, I need this from you, and only you can grant it. Will you, Catarina? Your support or lack of it will not change the fact that we are bound. That is permanent."

As speeches went, it scored a direct hit, but the questions he had answered only sp.a.w.ned new questions and the time for answers lay at hand because this time she knew what questions to ask.

"First, answer some of my questions; what does this armband signify?"

"You are very tenacious for one so scattered, my curious Cat. It serves multiple purposes. The emblem encases a very strong tracking device so I will always be able to find you. It designates you as a member of the House of Ra; and it identifies you as mine. The band cannot be removed; it is permanent." His eyes glowed at this last revelation.

"Uh...yours, um...mated; is it some kind of mistress thing or is it more of a wife thing? I never heard you ask whether I would agree to either or anything to you, for that matter," she pointed out cryptically. She wondered why she wasn't more nervous at the prospect of being tied to him; she knew what he meant to her but what did she mean to him; aside from her heritage that is. He knew all of her secrets and she knew so few of his, would he ever confide in her? Well, she would just keep pressing until he did.

He colored, he actually looked ashamed for an instant, but then focused on her and gave her the unvarnished truth. "You know you were chosen because of your Gattonian blood, your mother is from a High House and it became important to choose a mate with strong blood lines and a fertile womb. It further became essential for political reasons; my son will someday rule Gattonia and I want no one to be able to dispute his right to rule because of impure blood. I have advised you that Gattonians, when they mate, mate for life. It is a monogamous binding. There will be no other females for me, and no males for you. We are as husband and wife only more restraining. It is called lifemating and that is the term of our joining."

"You said you belong to the House of Ra; are we talking Egyptian Ra?"

"Ours is the first House of Ra that we know of. Your Egyptians represent a fairly new civilization, similar to your own."

"Okay, then have you ever been to Egypt?" Before he could answer, Cat held up her hands and said, "No, no wait. Have your ancestors ever visited Egypt?"

"Yes."

"Congratulations, Zorroc, you learned a new word today," flas.h.i.+ng him a teasing grin before continuing with her interrogation. "There has been speculation for centuries about the pyramids and artworks of Egypt and whether a race from that era could possibly have had the engineering technology, imagination or skill required to build such ma.s.sive and complex masterpieces." She paused to gauge how her ensuing hypothesis affected Zorroc; he watched her like a newly discovered life form, his attention, fully engaged. "And there has been further speculation as to whether the placement of the pyramids could have been some sort of landing signal for incoming s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps and the pyramids, themselves, landing platforms."

"You have an awe inspiring imagination, my one," he pointed out softly. "It is one of the many things about you that fascinates me." What fascinated him more, however, pertained to her blatant disinterest in wealth and power. Anyone else in her position would be questioning him about his a.s.sets- his monetary a.s.sets. Catarina's focus ran deeply toward people and all living creatures, not monetary trappings. But, what truly captivated and delighted him entailed her dedicated one-mindedness and determination toward solving the mysteries between both her cultures, for in truth, she had one foot clearly rooted in each. A fact he did not believe had yet sunken into her incredibly absorbent mind. It was unfortunate he could not allow her to continue on her present course. Her compliance outweighed all else.

Cat's mind whirled at the possible implications. He hadn't discouraged her theory and where it led. The realities overlapped staggering. "Tell me, I'm on the wrong track."

"Tell me I have your loyalty and support, and that you give yourself freely to me."

"You are exasperating."

"And you could have written the book on it. Tell me, Catarina, say the words," he commanded softly.

She exhaled loudly. "What will my duties be and will there be some sort of a formal ceremony commemorating this romantic and loving union?"

He winced, "I have feelings for you; you must know this. Things between us will be very good once we reach Gattonia and settle in to our new life. There will be a formal mating ceremony when we arrive home. You will have many beautiful gowns to wear and be much admired by all. I am considered quite a catch." He smiled uncertainly at his last comment. He had not been able to read her for the last few minutes. Was she learning to block him or simply pre-occupied or upset? "Do I have your support?"

"Will you answer my questions about your people?"

"Do not withhold this from me, Catarina."

"Do I honestly have a choice?"

"No."

She sighed and relented. "Okay, you have my loyalty and support."

"And you have mine and more," he whispered as he turned to leave.

When had his way with females vanished? She was fragile, almost defenseless, an earth female in an unfamiliar world, depending on him to protect, provide and care for her in the way she cared for him and he had made it sound as if she had no options, no value and little chance for his devotion. He had never had this problem with females before; he had always taken his incredible success with them for granted; it came naturally to him. He considered himself a female magnet of sorts and not simply because of his powerful position among his people. He had been described as polished, attractive, charming, and pleasing to females s.e.xually. His joinings had always ended well; each satisfied and ready to go on to the next partner. The problem, he realized, lay in the fact that apart from their cultural differences, he did not know how to be a lifemate. Providing for the emotional needs of a female eclipsed his experience, let alone an earth female. She had said she loved him and he knew she believed herself sincere but what she had overlooked in her naivete was that love, her brand of love, lingered as an unessential even undesired ingredient to a successful union. As far as he could tell, love signified little more than a myth made up by males to get their females underneath them voluntarily. He could a.s.sure Catarina of hot joinings, mutual regard, and affection for one another. It would please her well, once she became accustomed to it, but anything more he could not provide. How to make her understand that the Gattonian nature espoused s.e.xuality without the pointless corresponding emotions of love, adoration or jealousy?

True, they could be affectionate, playful at times and territorial but it did not emulate the ideal of romantic love. Still, he needed to bridge this gap between them before it could grow much deeper. Her disillusionment and disappointment buffeted him like waves on a sh.o.r.eline, eroding his resolve.

He escaped to the botanical solarium, his favorite sanctuary, and sat on the floor toward the back of the facility. He fought against the merciless undertow, slowly pulling at his confidence and determination-bonds of responsibility, navigation of political waters, and the emotional quicksand that formed Cat. He had made Catarina suffer for all of it, he now admitted. He had lifemated to an earth woman he barely knew, battling a species that embodied the very definition of genocide, and about to embark on a social challenge never before attempted by his people; and he could not control any of it.

He lost all sense of time as he sat there weathering the bombardments of duty and obligation but finally, noting his lack of progress toward any resolution, forced himself to rise and take up the battle that shaped his existance.

He headed to the COM room so he could observe his mate and better judge her state of mind. Whoever said earth women were easy, obviously, had never met one. Prolinc lounged before the multiple screens, monitoring the s.h.i.+p through Internal COM Link or ICL when he arrived.

"Your luck with your earth female remains consistent, Zorroc, what did you do to her this time to put her into her present state?"

"I...she...does not understand our ways; it has made her out of sorts."

"Normally, I would advise sending her friends to her, but if they see her like this, your private parts may be in jeopardy; ask a Gattonian who knows." Prolinc would never underestimate his little warrior again.

Dee emerged every bit as capable as his other officers only much nicer to look at. She drew him mentally, as well as physically, and had no intimidation problems with him as most others of his province.

They were well matched. Lifemating with Dee, however, would be out of the question; both he and Zorroc were betrothed to Gattonian females, a commitment of honor almost impossible to break. The alliance for Prolinc remained important to his family and future, whereas Zorroc, being the leader of their people, had been able to sever his alliance of honor for the greater good. The son of a concubine could be challenged for the rule; a true legitimate son could not.

Prolinc's family had served the House of Ra for centuries. He and Zorroc had been raised together, trained together, educated together and caroused together; and in three short years, he would lifemate with Zorroc's sister, Nadia. This would elevate his families' status to one of the top three families of Gattonia and in his mating with Nadia; he would be in line for the rule, as well.

His family could barely restrain their elation at this opportunity, for indeed they saw it as their opportunity, not because of any particular talent or worth Prolinc held. His brother, mother, and father all preened in antic.i.p.ation of their upcoming triumph over their peers; it manifested as one of the few times Prolinc could recall sharing familial approval. Ordinarily his family tended to view him as some undesirable barnacle that had grown on them by mistake. Prolinc did not care about status. His job was to protect Zorroc with his life and he had determined that if anything happened to his friend, Prolinc would most likely perish beside him.