View author's other titles

LENGTH: Category
SENSUALITY:Carnal

Cover art (c) Eliza Black 2003
ISBN 1-58608-409-7
Download $4.50

(s&h not included in price)

In yielding, can she conquer the heart of the mightiest warrior the world has ever seen? Or will she lose her heart, only to learn that even love can not bridge the gap for two beings from such different worlds?

Rating: Contains explicit language, graphic sex, and some violence.

"BRIDE OF ATLANTIS is full of action, adventure and, of course, sweeping romance. Morin takes the myths of Atlantis and makes them her own, injecting enough imagination to invigorate the legendary Atlantis to new heights. The characters are well-done. The heroes are strong, and so are the women, but the world-building is breath-taking. It is a mixture of fantasy and science fiction, blended with such care that the readers are easily drawn into Morin's world. Fantasy romance readers will find themselves enchanted by Morin's BRIDE OF ATLANTIS." Sensual Romance Reviews

"4 1/2 Roses and Top Pick for May! This sea faring fantasy adventure is sure to please any reader. The attraction of a population of mer-people and the mystery of Atlantis explained, BRIDE OF ATLANTIS is a thrill a minute mixed with a good portion of romance and growing passion." LoveRomances.com

"Four Stars! BRIDE OF ATLANTIS is a wonderful story of a young woman trying to find her way in a world that is alien to her. Thor is the perfect alpha male, strong, tender, and loving with lots of stamina. The secondary characters are entertaining and enjoyable. You want the young man that helped Alexis to find a good life and the Atlantians in general to find a way to solve their problems. Keep the Kleenex and the toys handy for this roller coaster story." Just Erotic Romance Reviews

"This story starts off with a bang and doesn't let up!I immensely enjoyed BRIDE OF ATLANTIS. The sex is HOT! And I chewed off my nails racing to get to the end to find out if Thor and Alexis were really going to be together. An incredibly emotional experience on all levels, BRIDE OF ATLANTIS is not to be missed if you enjoy books that tug at your heart, tickle your funny bone, and make you sigh at the happy ending. The world Ms. Morin has created is fascinating, and I hope to see more from this talented author. Soon please!" Sensual Romance Reviews

"There are some surprises here that I can't mention but gave me goosebumps when I read them. I immensely enjoyed BRIDE OF ATLANTIS. Thor is the hero most women dream of: sensitive, powerful, strong, with a wicked sense of humor. Alexis is full of spunk, hilarious, and grows as a person, learning from her mistakes throughout the course of the book... I hope to see more from this talented author." Paranormal Romance Reviews

"BRIDE OF ATLANTIS is a fast read, and I look forward to the sequel, NEPTUNE'S DAUGHTER. Ms. Morin has penned an interesting start to her Atalantium series." Sensual Romance Reviews

BRIDE OF ATLANTIS

By

Marie Morin

(c) copyright Marie Morin, March 2003
Cover art by Eliza Black, (c) copyright March 2003
New Concepts Publishing
4729 Humphreys Rd.
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com

Chapter One

“Just so you know, I killed your father,” Eric whispered in her ear.

Expecting love words when she’d felt him lean against her, felt the warmth of his breath along her neck, Alexis Stanhope was too stunned by her new husband’s confession to move. The scene she’d only moments before been staring at in wonder—the full moon dancing off the waters of the Caribbean in the wake of the cruise ship—vanished and she saw only the vision of her father, laying prostrate on his kitchen floor, blood pooling around him.

She could not seem to grasp what he’d said. “You were in Seattle. How…? How could you have…?” Her lips felt stiff. The words tangled on her tongue, as if she was speaking for the first time.

“Cleverly,” Eric said, taking a step back and striking her so hard between the shoulder blades that she tipped over the ship railing.

For several seconds she teetered on the balustrade, too shocked and too petrified with terror to do more than gasp, unable even to scream as she scrabbled for a hold on the slippery railing. The beautiful sequined sheathe she had worn for it’s elegance trapped her, allowing her no room to maneuver, despite the slit down the back of the skirt, so that she was scarcely able to do more than wiggle like a worm caught on a hook.

Then she felt him grasp her legs, flipping her completely over the railing. Several nails broke as she lost her grip and then she was plummeting toward the yawning sea, falling in slow motion, staring in shocked disbelief at Eric’s grinning face as it grew smaller and smaller with distance, as the waves seemed to rise up to catch her.

She struck the water almost fully erect, feet first.

The chill of the water seemed to loosen the grip shock had held over her vocal cords.

Subconsciously, she knew a cry for help was useless. Late as it was, music still spilled from the ballroom and casino where inebriated guests laughed and talked at the top of there lungs to be heard above the music. The thrum of the engines, the crash of churning water added to the clamor. It was doubtful if she would have been heard had she screamed before she went over.

Now, it was worse that useless.

And yet she couldn’t go to her death without telling the man who’d betrayed her how she despised him for his cowardly attack.

“I’ll divorce you!” she screamed furiously.

Dimly, she heard, or thought she heard, a laugh, and the words, “Too late.”

Despite the fact that she struck the sea feet first, she didn’t cleave the water cleanly. Her feet took most of the shock, but her bent knees and upper torso took the impact in sufficient force that a shock wave traveled through her entire body, as if she’d struck pavement.

The horror, however, overshadowing even the stunning pain, was that she continued to fall, on and on, almost forever it seemed.

Blackness engulfed her before her instinct for survival took over and she began to struggle against the water pulling at her, slowing her descent, and finally climbing. Her arms burned with the effort. Her lungs were on fire. Her head felt as if it would explode from the pressure of holding her breath.

Something brushed her leg.

She screamed a silent scream, loosing much of her captured air, swallowing a gulp of briny water. The fright galvanized her flagging strength, however, and she struggled harder to reach the surface, her need for air rapidly overshadowing all other fears.

The water around her lightened … or her eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness. She wasn’t certain which, but this time, when ‘it’ brushed against her, she saw, or thought she saw, the shape of a man.

Eric?

Had she been mistaken? Had he come after her?

The shape moved away, but she was too desperate for air now to spare a thought for searching.

She could see the surface of the water above her. The moon’s glow rippled over the restless waves, causing the water to sparkle like silver and gold gems.

For some moments, hope buoyed her flagging strength, but no matter how she struggled, she seemed to come no closer. Her arms moved slower and slower. A different sort of blackness swarmed around her. She couldn’t hold her breath any longer.

She inhaled water as something grasped her and propelled her toward the surface as if she’d suddenly found a jet pack strapped to her. She thought the speed might be her imagination, but she was moving so fast that she cleared the surface of the water by several feet before she crashed down once more.

She went under, bobbed up, treading water like a half drowned puppy, flopping her arms and slapping at the water awkwardly, dipping under the water again and again before bobbing to the top once more.

Minutes passed before she could control her coughing and gagging. Finally, she managed to draw one pure breath of air and then another. Slowly, her drowning panic subsided until other considerations began to filter through her mind.

Frantically, she looked around for the ship.

When she finally saw it, she was certain her eyes were playing tricks on her. It couldn’t have gone so far … could it?

It was hopeless.

They’d sailed on without her.

No one had seen Eric’s cowardly assault.

No one had heard her scream as she’d fallen overboard.

No one except the man who’d pushed her … her husband of five days.

Some freaking honeymoon!

* * *

She had no hope of catching the ship. She knew that with a terrible certainty. It was miles away now. Slowly, she turned in a circle. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but water, and more water.

She was going to die here.

Something broke the surface of the water only a few yards from her, leapt toward the sky, then crashed down so hard that water rolled over her.

She screamed, then laughed a little hysterically.

It was a dolphin.

It must have been the dolphin that had pushed her to the surface.

Well, if he wanted the ‘trash’ out of his pond, he was going to have to push her a hell of a lot further. They’d left their last port of call hours earlier. They weren’t due to dock at home port for hours more. She was miles and miles from land in any direction.

She heard a splash again, this time behind her, and whirled toward the sound.

The head of a man emerged from the water less than two yards from her.

She was so stunned, she could only stare at him.

Irrationally, hope surged through her.

It died almost instantly as she realized she had already looked for a ship, a boat--anything. She’d seen nothing but the vanishing cruise ship. If he was actually with her, and not some figment of her imagination, then he was only company to drown with. He’d probably fallen off, or been pushed off, the same vessel.

She looked at him pityingly as he moved toward her and finally realized that he was probably nothing more than a figment of her hysteria, or hopefulness incarnate. In the bright moonlight, she saw that he was exceptionally handsome, with the perfection of features one expected only to find in models or movie stars.

The light from the full moon sparkled in his long, flowing hair. It looked, she decided almost whimsically, like spun moonbeams.

She felt oddly unmoved by her good fortune.

Wasn’t it every woman’s dream, after all, to be rescued by a handsome young hero?

But then, he was far too gorgeous to be real, wasn’t he? And, in any case it seemed unlikely that he was going to rescue her.

Obviously, her mind was playing tricks on her, filling her with hope when there was none.

Or maybe it was just her eyesight? A trick of the moonlight? If he was real, then he could not be as perfect as he appeared.

Then, too, unless he possessed uncommon swimming skills, it wasn’t likely that he would end up being her hero.

“Speken ze duetch?” He asked as he stopped a few feet from her, tilting his head quizzically.

Great! He didn’t even speak English! What kind of providence, or fantasy, was this?

“Par le vous francais?”

Alexis’ jaw dropped in surprise. Bilingual? Here? In the middle of godforsaken nowhere?

“Habla espanol?”

“Hell! Now I know I’m hallucinating.”

“Ah! English … wait. American?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He frowned. “This means joke?”

“No it doesn’t mean joke, damn it. I mean, yes, but … never mind.” Alex realized with some surprise that she was as angry as she was frightened. She had every right to be furious, of course. Her new husband had not only just admitted that he’d murdered her father, he’d just thrown her overboard. She didn’t want to think about the implications of his actions, or his last comments, however, and shied away from them almost as quickly as the thoughts scurried furtively through her mind. Her fear, she realized, had translated into defensive anger. She was furious because she was too terrified to think of anything except that, she, who absolutely hated the sea, was going to die in this place.

She must have been out of her mind to have allowed Eric to talk her into a honeymoon cruise.

Where had her sense of self preservation been when she’d fallen for a con man? Where had it been when she’d yielded to his persuasion? Shouldn’t alarm bells have gone off? Did all women turn into mindless morons the moment an attractive man popped the question, or was it just her?

Her father had owned a small construction outfit. He hadn’t been rich, merely well-to-do, but he’d had sufficient money to draw the sharks. She’s spent most of her adult life suspecting every man who’d ever courted her.

Then she’d met Eric. He’d seemed to have far more than her family had. It hadn’t occurred to her for one moment that he’d been another shark, far worse than any that had gone before him.

She’d brought him home to daddy, and he’d killed her father without her any the wiser … fooled even the police, who’d been convinced his alibi was air tight, then rushed her to the alter not six months later, and off on their ‘honeymoon’ cruise so he could neatly dispose of her, as well.

How had he managed to finagle her into a cruise, of all things?

Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to recall how it was that he’d waltzed her onto a cruise ship with no more than a token protest, when she would ordinarily only have gone kicking and screaming.

She’d always had a fear of the water, especially the ocean … any body of water, in fact, that wasn’t manmade and lined with concrete. The ocean was dark, deep and there were things in it, live things that bit, stung, and/or devoured the unwary.

It didn’t help her feelings one iota that she had company to die with.

“The ship’s gone. We’re going to die here,” she muttered, mostly to herself.

The man turned to look at the departing ship. “I can take you back, if you like.”

Alexis gaped at him, too stunned to speak for several moments. Hope surged through her again. “You can?”

He turned back to look at her, almost pityingly. “There is danger for you there.”

She stared at him. He’d jumped in to save her. He must have. There was no other explanation for his appearance.

It would’ve been far more helpful if he’d run to report it. At least then the ship wouldn’t have sailed off without them.

“You can’t help me. Not unless you can sprout wings,” she snapped sarcastically, knowing she sounded ungrateful for his attempt to save her, but uncaring. For chrissake! He hadn’t done a thing but jumped in to drown with her! How helpful was that?

He looked at her quizzically. “I can.”

“Can, what?” she asked, distracted.

“Sprout wings, if you like. Would you prefer that to swimming?”

“Yeah, right.” It wasn’t bad enough that she was in the middle of the ocean, treading water, just waiting to run out of energy and sink to the bottom. She had to be here with a lunatic.

“I will show you if you like,” he offered.

“Sure. Why not? It’s not like we have anything else to do,” Alexis snapped sarcastically, trying to control the shivers that had begun to rack her from head to toe as the chill from the ocean began to lower her body temperature.

WHY was she so cold, she wondered absently, trying to control the spasm in her jaw that signaled imminent teeth chattering. These were southern waters, and it was well into spring.

It was night of course.

And she was next to naked—sequins didn’t really offer a hell of a lot of warmth.

But surely she wasn’t suffering hypothermia?

Maybe it was just terror that was making her shake like she had palsy?

Would she slip into a hypothermic coma first? And, barely conscious, or better, not conscious at all, sink into oblivion?

Maybe she should try floating on her back. She’d always been rather good at that.

She was distracted from her morose thoughts by the strange man who’d dropped in to keep her company, and watched, puzzled, as he seemed almost to levitate upwards until she could see that he was bare from the waist up … and as muscular as a weight lifter.

She was still wondering how he’d managed the trick of rising so far out of the water when he extended his arms stiffly to each side.

Oh god! She thought. This lunatic thinks he can take off like an airplane. Did he plan on flapping his arms? Or did he think he was just going to take off?

He did neither. He merely extended his arms and bent his head forward.

As she watched, stunned into silence, the ridge of flesh on his sides beneath his arms and along the underside of his arms flattened, seemed almost to spread, began to form wings like, well, like dragon wings.

“NO!” she covered her face with her hands. She should have known it was she who’d lost her mind! Terror had turned her brain into mush. She simply couldn’t accept that she was alone in this vast nothingness, and her mind had conjured a companion. It didn’t matter whether she lived or died. She was a blubbering lunatic.

She felt him grasp her wrists, tugging her hands from her face.

His expression was one of concern. “I did not mean to frighten you.”

She burst into tears.

He released her hands abruptly, almost seeming to jump back from her.

“No! Don’t leave me! I don’t care if you are a figment of my mind! I can’t bare to be alone here, waiting to die! Stay with me, please!”

He moved toward her, pulling her close. He felt wonderfully warm and alive for a figment. She could almost believe he really was there.

“If I take you back, he will kill you. If I leave you, you will die.”

And she needed him to tell her this?

He frowned. He didn’t look angry. He looked as if he was concentrating very hard.

In the next moment, he plunged beneath the sea, taking her with him so fast she didn’t have time to scream.

Alex gasped … air?

She opened her eyes. Then blinked, rubbed her eyes and opened them again.

There was a … well it looked like a bubble surrounding her.

She was almost afraid to touch it, afraid that it would vanish and she’d find herself struggling for air. She was just as afraid not to touch it, needing the reassurance of knowing it was real.

Tentatively, she put her hand out, pressed against the almost transparent film that surrounded her. It yielded, stretched. She pulled her hand back, afraid to put too much pressure against it.

She couldn’t decide what to make of it. It seemed real. She didn’t think she was dreaming, or hallucinating.

But what had happened to her ‘hero’?

Carefully, she twisted around to look behind her.

She recognized the face of the man pushing the bubble of air encapsulating her. It was definitely the same man who’d spoken to her, offered to grow wings for her. The problem was, he wasn’t a man at all.

From his waist down, iridescent green and blue scales covered his long tail and fin.

Alexis felt quite suddenly as if she’d just run out of air. She passed out cold.

* * *

It was so black when Alexis finally came to, she thought she might have gone blind. She lifted her hand, felt around her. Something soft and yielding surrounded her. A deep cold penetrated it and she shivered, realizing suddenly that she was wet.

It took several moments to recall her last conscious moments, but when she did, she was inclined to think she’d had the world’s worst nightmare.

But, she was wet.

Maybe she’d fainted in the shower, bumped her head?

She was moving, though. She couldn’t see much of anything, but she could feel that she was moving.

She could also feel the thin membrane that she recalled exploring.

If she’d dreamed it, would she still feel that? Could it possibly be anything else that her mind had interpreted as a bubble?

She became aware of a soft glow of light and turned toward it.

Beneath her, she could see what appeared to be a coral reef. She was guessing, naturally. She’d never had the least inclination to go diving and had never actually seen one, except in pictures, but it did look like one, except for the cave-like entrance and the soft glow of light spilling forth from it.

Maybe she was dreaming? Eating seafood usually resulted her in dreaming some really bizarre things. Had she eaten seafood, though? She decided she must have, even though she couldn’t remember having done so.

Or was she floating mindlessly on the surface of the ocean, hallucinating while her life slowly slipped away?

The man—merman—that was pushing her along in the strange bubble, headed directly for the light.

Once they’d passed the opening, she realized it couldn’t possibly be a cave. It was a tube-like corridor that seemed to go on forever, and it was man made because it was as straight as an arrow … or made by something, in any event. It most certainly was not a natural cave.

It must have been at least two or three miles long, maybe more, because it seemed they traveled through it for a very long time. They passed, eventually, through the tube and into what appeared to be a great cove, or, more likely, a cavern and underground lake, although she could see no signs of stalactites, which she knew would’ve been in a natural cave.

Then, as they moved toward the surface of the water, she realized the ceiling emitted a faint glow—like a bright night sky. Faintly, she could just distinguish the twinkle of stars.

So they weren’t underground?

It didn’t make sense. They should be underground, but if they had been she wouldn’t be looking at a night sky.

She thought it over, trying to add two and two and coming up with six every time, because it just didn’t make any sense at all. Before they’d entered the tunnel, they had been surrounded by the darkness of deep water. She was as certain of that as she was certain of anything that had happened that night. Moreover, the tunnel they’d followed had been straight as an arrow, and just as level as a if it had been laid out with a contractor’s laser. And, if they hadn’t gone up, then it was a physical impossibility that this could be anything but a cave.

Unless … Maybe it was like the bottom of an extinct volcano? Maybe this place WAS beneath the sea, but opened to the sky because the cavern had no roof?

She abandoned her useless speculation when they surfaced at last. The bubble disappeared as abruptly as it had appeared and she found herself being cradled against the man’s chest. More curious now than frightened, she looked around.

They were still perhaps a mile, maybe two from shore. In the distance, she saw the twinkling lights of a city, sprawling along the shoreline as far as she could see in either direction.

The question was, what city?

It could not be the US. Coastal cities might abound, but they certainly wouldn’t be able to approach the city as she and her merman had.

South America? Could they possibly have gone that far?

She was no genius when it came to geography, but it seemed beyond the realms of possibility.

But then, up until a few hours ago she would have said that pretty much everything she’d experienced so far was beyond the realms of possibility.

“What is this place?” she asked, more to herself than to him. “It doesn’t look like any of the islands I’ve seen before.”

“It is not an island, not in the strictest sense of the word, at any rate,” he responded, sounding tired.

She turned to look at him. He looked tired, too.

How odd that her figment had human failings. If this really was a dream, would he get tired?

She had a bad feeling that he wouldn’t, but decided that she just couldn’t handle any more mental calisthenics at the moment. She was tired beyond belief and her head was throbbing as if it might explode.

She dismissed it, tried not to put a great deal of effort into thinking at all, instead merely watching as they drew closer and closer to the strange city.

As they neared the shore and she could see more clearly, an odd sense of disorientation swept over her. The place … every building, was in a style strongly reminiscent of ancient Greece … except these weren’t ruins. Some of the buildings looked old, perhaps a bit time worn, but none were crumbling. Most seemed to be single story buildings, with perhaps a handful rising two or three stories. In the distance, in what looked to be the center of the city, stood a cluster of buildings on a hill, or rise. These came the closest to resembling the multistoried buildings one would expect to see in a city of this size. In the midst of them, a tower rose well above everything surrounding it, almost like a lighthouse, or maybe an observation tower.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

The sense, almost of weightlessness the buoyancy of the water, had given gave way to a feeling of heaviness, cool air brushing her wet skin, bringing her to the realization that they were emerging from the water. She frowned, aware that she’d lost a sense of logic again. The guy carrying her was half fish, a merman. How could he just stand up and walk out of the water? She craned her head to see the merman’s tail and fin, but, even as she watched, they disappeared.

He set her on her feet and she leaned forward to peer at him in the dim light, watching in amazement as his iridescent scales gave way to skin, his lower body dividing to become two legs.

Well, two and a half.

He was stark naked.

Alexis straightened abruptly, blushing as she met his grinning face.

“Down boy! I don’t care how glad he is to see me, I’m not shaking hands!”

His expression became quizzical.

“Never mind!” She turned away, surveying the area, and realized they were standing on what appeared to be a stone pier. Steps led upwards to a beautiful stone house that looked very Mediterranean.

A wave of dizziness washed over her and she swayed, grasping his arm for support. “Where are we?” she demanded.

He scooped her into his arms and jogged up the stone steps to a verandah. Without pausing, he opened the door and stepped inside.

“My home.”

“I gathered that,” she said dryly as set her on her feet, steadying her by pulling her close against his side. Finding her land legs at last, Alexis pulled away, looking around the marble tiled foyer, her gaze skating over beautifully carved tables, chests … vases made of gold … none in a style she recognized. “But where is your home? And who are you? You never did tell me your name.”

“I am known as Adonis,” he said, and bowed in a quaint old world way that looked oddly gallant, given the fact that he was naked.

Alexis suppressed an urge to giggle—nerves or embarrassment, she wasn’t sure-- resolutely refusing to look at anything below his neck. “I wouldn’t doubt it in the least, but don’t let it go to your head. Pretty is as pretty does,” she added primly. “And we are where?”

“Atalantium.”

Chapter Two

Alex stared at him. “Atlantis?”

He shrugged. “Outworlders call it that.”

Slowly, Alexis wilted to the floor, dropped her head in her hands and gave up the effort to remain stoic and logical. As much as she hated women who wept at the slightest provocation, or yielded to hysterics when anyone with any sense would be trying to keep their wits about them, she couldn’t seem to prevent herself from behaving like a weakling. She cried.

She didn’t understand any of this. She strongly suspected she was either dead, or her husband--the snake!--had had her locked in a mental hospital and she’d been given some sort of mind altering drug.

But all she could really think about was that her daddy was dead, she’d married the snake that had killed him, and nobody was going to come looking for her.

He touched her before she realized he’d knelt in front of her. Oddly, the moment she felt the touch of his hand on her head, a strange calm came over her. It took an amazing effort to lift her head to stare at him. He smiled, scooped her into his arms once more and carried her up the flight of stairs that led off of the entrance hall.

The small room he took her to looked like a bathroom—except not. It was tiled, beautifully, in mosaics that looked very old world. But the fixtures only bore a passing resemblance to those she was familiar with.

The ‘throne’ looked … well, like a throne, not a toilet. She saw nothing that even resembled a lavatory, but wondered if the small cavity in one wall might pass for one.

There was no tub, but, taking up one whole end of the room, was what appeared to be a smaller chamber. Adonis stepped inside of it with her still cradled in his arms and finally settled her on a bench that ran the width of the stall. There was no curtain that she could see, no shower head, no knobs, and yet almost the moment they entered they were pelted by something that felt a lot like soothingly hot water, but wasn’t.

Still strangely lethargic, she was aware of being bathed, as if she was no more than a helpless child. The next thing she knew, she was lying, naked, on a vast bed, covered in satin sheets and filled with pillows of every shape and size.

The bed was covered. To her consternation, she discovered she was sprawled atop the sheets as if she’d hadn’t an ounce of modesty.

Struggling, she managed to turn her head and discovered that Adonis was sitting beside her, pouring something into his hands. The smell of jasmine wafted past her nostrils. Oil?

He moved to her feet, lifted one and began rubbing it—wonderful man—massaging each foot in turn until she almost felt like purring. Bending her knees, he scooted forward, settling a foot on each of his thighs, then began working her calves, kneading each one thoroughly until the painfully tensed muscles began to feel soft and pliant.

She didn’t really want to think. She wanted to just enjoy the wonderfully relaxing effects of the massage—except that she was far too relaxed already. In a way, it was almost the feeling of being inebriated—she felt completely relaxed, felt no real surprise about anything that was happening, felt no discomfort about the fact that she was naked in a strange man’s bed. Her judgment was definitely impaired.

And yet, not only had she not drank anything that might produce this effect, she also didn’t feel woozy in the least, just unable to do anything, and uncaring that she wasn’t able to.

Her attention returned abruptly to his hands when she realized he’d moved from her calves to her thighs. Heat started in her belly the moment his hands began sliding up and down her thighs from groin to knee.

She frowned, struggling now against the strange lethargy that prevented her from protesting, struggling against the stirring of passion.

The heat built as he moved to her belly and then her bare breasts.

Despite her best efforts, a moan of pleasure escaped her.

He smiled, lifting each of her arms in turn, massaging it, then placing her arms carefully on either side of the pillow that supported her head.

She wanted to demand to know what he was doing, but found she couldn’t speak.

“It’s all right,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “Just relax. You’ll enjoy it.”

That’s what they all say, she thought dryly, but she rarely did.

Anyway, she barely knew this guy! How dare he take liberties with her!

“Shhh!” He murmured, placing a finger to her lips. “Don’t think.”

She frowned, realizing he was no longer kneeling between her spread legs, that he’d moved and was lying beside her now, stretched out, his body just barely touching hers. When had that happened? Had she dozed?

He turned away, lifting a small bunch of grapes from a bowl beside the bed. For a moment, he dangled the fruit over her, then slowly lowered it, brushing it lightly over first one nipple and then the other. The chill of the grapes, the feather light touch, brought her nipples erect, sent a new surge of heat curling through her belly.

She bit her lip as he stroked her, slowly, tantalizingly, trailing the grapes from her nearest breast, down over her belly and back up to her other breast.

Alexis closed her eyes, fighting the desire to yield to her body’s urges.

Abruptly, the door burst open, slamming against the wall.

Dreamily, Alexis opened her eyes, struggled and finally managed to lift her head, feeling strangely unmoved by the intrusion, neither frightened, nor relieved, always supposing this was a rescue.

Adonis rolled off the bed and came to his feet in an instant, facing the intruder furiously.

Alexis was only vaguely aware of his reaction, however. She was mesmerized by the angry warrior who stood on the threshold, surveying her as if she was no more than an insect.

He was, in a word, magnificent. And as naked as Adonis.

My goodness, he’s a manly man, she thought, her gaze drawn like a magnet to his member as it grew proudly erect under her unwavering stare. She wondered a little doubtfully, however, if it was, perhaps, a little more than she could handle.

Huge was always impressive, and mighty tempting, but a girl could risk serious injury with that thing!

After a moment, she tore her gaze from his trophy, surveying him dreamily, in a leisurely manner that missed nothing.

His features—high cheekbones, narrow blade of a nose, squared jaw—made her think ‘Indian Chief’, particularly since he had long, dark hair. But, even from across the room she could see that his eyes were blue.

His mouth was hard, straight and made her stomach muscles flutter pleasantly.

He was tall, taller even than Adonis, who must have been six feet tall.

His chest was massive with muscle … his whole body, but he didn’t have the veined, obscenely unnatural mass of a bodybuilder. His legs were particularly nice, mostly because she wasn’t used to seeing nicely shaped legs on a man. Body builders bulked up their leg muscles until their legs no longer fit together properly, and most of the rest looked as if their legs were atrophied.

The desire Adonis had been trying to awaken surged through her veins like fire as her gaze wandered over him and her mind conjured images of his big, hard, powerful hands stroking her … his big, hard, powerful everything making love to her. Her gaze returned to his face, lingering longingly on his mouth, as images of his mouth replacing his hands with caresses danced through her head.

The room reeked of testosterone.

She knew then that she HAD to be dreaming.

“Thor! How did you…?” Adonis growled angrily.

He couldn’t be Thor, Alex thought with contemptuous amusement. Thor was a Norse god for chrissake! He would’ve had acres of beautiful, golden hair. This guy looked huge enough, and powerful enough, to be a Thor, but his hair was dark.

The man Adonis had called Thor, lifted what looked amazingly like a sword and pointed it at Adonis. “I am the guardian. You can not hide your thoughts from me. You have broken the first law,” he thundered angrily.

Alexis giggled.

He looked startled, turned to glare at her for a moment—as if he was certain it could take no more than that to properly subdue her—then returned his attention to Adonis.

“The council decreed….”

“The council decreed that THEY would judge outworlders.”

“She would have died.”

Thor lifted his brows, turned to study Alexis for a long moment. She could see nothing in his eyes that indicated more than mild curiosity, however, certainly not compassion for her plight. “The affairs of the outworlders are of no interest to the council.”

Adonis took a step forward, furious. “What about you?”

“I am guardian of the laws. I obey the laws. I ensure that everyone obeys the laws. Without them, we would have no order, only chaos.”

“If you feel nothing, then you have no humanity left and you are not fit to be guardian.”

For a moment, Alexis thought the man called Thor was going to attack Adonis. Maybe that had been Adonis’ intention, to provoke a fight? If it had been, he was out of his mind. This fellow looked like he could make mincemeat out of him.

After a moment, to Alexis’ relief, he seemed to regain control of his anger. “You should have returned her to her people, not brought her here. You know it is forbidden to bring outworlders here.”

“She was attacked, thrown in the sea to die. If I had taken her back the man would have killed her.”

Thor’s lips tightened. “You must present this to the council … as you should have done to start with. Come. They wait.”

Adonis turned to look at Alexis. He seemed torn.

“Release her to me.”

Adonis’ head snapped around. He glared at Thor suspiciously. “Why?”

Thor’s face hardened. “If you do not release her, I will take her.”

Adonis looked taken aback. “You would kill her.”

“No. You would.”

Alexis didn’t understand what they were talking about, but after a moment Adonis turned to her, touched her gently on the forehead.

It was as if she’d suddenly come wide awake. Alexis sat up on the bed, gathering the sheets to her, looking wildly around.

“What is going on here!” she demanded, watching, bemused, as Adonis stalked over to a wardrobe, removed something that looked oddly like a cross between one of those hard plastic headbands and a headset, except that it was made of filigreed metal, and placed it on his head. Almost instantaneously, he was fully clothed--or at least appeared to be fully clothed, in some sort of short, white robe. He threw her one last glance, looked as if he would speak and then, without a word, stalked angrily from the room.

The man Adonis had called Thor approached the bed, studied her for a long moment and finally extended his hand. “Come. I must take you before the council.”

She was relieved to see he was wearing a loincloth and wondered what had made her think he was naked. Relief aside, however, she felt no inclination to oblige him.

“Not on your life, buddy! I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but I’m not going anywhere with you!”

He reached for her.

Alexis scrambled to the other side of the bed, watching him warily.

He caught the sheets, giving them a jerk that would have brought her flying across the bed toward him, except that she hadn’t expected that move and he only succeeded in snatching the cover from her hands, leaving her bare once more.

Alexis grabbed a pillow and launched it at his head.

He dodged it.

She grabbed more, throwing them at him one after another in a barrage. He knocked them aside. Finally, she managed to smack him in the face with one. She was on the point of throwing the last, but decided to keep it, and hugged it to her bare breasts instead. She looked around to see if she could find something heavier to launch in his direction, but, unfortunately, he was standing on the side of the bed where the bowl of fruit resided.

He frowned at her. “This is childish.”

“Childish!” Alexis echoed. “Look, buddy, I don’t know you….”

“I am called Thor!”

“Oh! Well that just makes all the difference in the world. I suppose now that I know you I should just stop being childish and allow you to drag me off and murder me.”

His face tightened with anger. “It is your people who murder for pleasure. We do not.”

Alexis kept her distance. “Mine? Are you trying to tell me you’re some sort of alien, or something? Because I’m just about ready to believe it. I feel like I fell off the boat and landed on Mars.”

“Don’t be absurd. I am as human as you are.”

“I take leave to doubt that!”

“I will not argue with you,” he said stiffly, obviously offended.

Alexis didn’t care. Sure he’d looked good enough to eat while she was under the influence—whatever the hell that influence had been—but he also looked big enough, and mad enough, to break her in half. She wasn’t about to let him get hold of her if she could help it. “Good! You wouldn’t win.”

She thought for several moments that he would lose his grip on his temper. Her heart executed a little tap dance of anxiety.

“I am the guardian. Come with me. Now!” he ordered, holding his hand out imperiously.

“Is this supposed to mean something to me? Because it doesn’t. I haven’t a clue what the hell you’re talking about and I’m not going anywhere with you. And I’m especially not going any damn where without my damn clothes!”

He lowered his hand, studied her with a perplexed look on his face for several moments. “You have a foul tongue.”

“Baby, you ain’t heard nuthin’ yet! My father was a construction worker. You come near me and I’ll give you a run down of my vocabulary. And, if you touch me you’re going to draw back a nub.”

He stared at her, hard.

Alexis felt a peculiar fluttering sensation in her head, almost like an annoying fly was buzzing around her. Unconsciously, she swatted at it.

His brows rose, an expression of surprise bordering on amazement crossing his stern features.

“What?” Alexis demanded, feeling uneasiness creep up her spine as it occurred to her to wonder if there was something she’d rather not know about standing behind her. She wasn’t about to fall for that one, though.

He said nothing. After a moment he moved to the wardrobe Adonis had pulled his ‘headset’ from.

“Don’t think for one moment I’m walking out of here wearing nothing but that head thingy!”

He pulled a scrap of cloth from the wardrobe and turned to her. “You are not allowed a band. You are an outworlder.”

“Well, duh! I feel like I just fell down the rabbit hole! Anyway, I just told you I didn’t want a damned headband, didn’t I?”

He gritted his teeth, apparently fighting another round with his temper, but finally moved back to the bed, stone-faced now, holding the scrap of cloth out.

Alexis looked down at it. “I don’t suppose you have another one of those so I can cover both cheeks?” she asked, exquisitely polite.

His expression became puzzled.

“That is not big enough to cover everything I want to cover.”

“It is all that is available.”

Alexis pursed her lips. “What happened to the clothes I was wearing?”

Thor appeared to think about it. “Adonis destroyed them.”

Alexis gasped in outrage. “My beautiful gown! That … that bastard!”

Thor frowned. “His parents were wed.”

“Never mind,” Alexis said, reaching to snatch the minute scrap of cloth from his hands.

She wasn’t fast enough. He grasped her arm, hauling her across the bed towards him. Before she could react, he placed his free hand across her forehead.

Actually, his hand was the size of a dinner plate. It covered her whole face. What the hell did he think he was doing, she thought angrily, feeling a strange weakness wash over her.

Slowly, she wilted onto the bed, staring up at him in confusion.

He smiled triumphantly, dropped the scrap of cloth to the bed, hoisted her up and tossed her over his shoulder. The last thought Alexis had as she felt herself being carried from the room was that he had a really nice ass.

She reached down and patted it, discovering it was everything she’d hoped for, firm and round. He came to an abrupt halt.

Nice, she thought as darkness swam up to meet her.