War Bride (Battle Born #7)(16)
“Why are you worried about my comfort? Your commander certainly isn’t.”
Tonn squared his shoulders and regret cut through the warmth in his eyes. “Kryton is the ultimate authority on this vessel. I can’t undermine his decisions. I’ve never claimed a war bride, nor will I ever consider the practice, but that doesn’t change what’s happening to you. If I can make your situation a little less traumatic, I will. It’s as simple as that.”
He felt sorry for her. She bristled at the realization. She’d never accepted pity from anyone. “You don’t need to worry about me. I can deal with Kryton.”
His brow arched and a disbelieving smile teased the corners of his mouth, but he didn’t challenge her assertion. “Food will be brought to you, but the nutria-gen will now create beverages whenever you like. Have you ever used one?” He motioned toward the kiosk inset in the wall near the dining area.
“I know how they work, but I don’t speak or read Rodyte.” Her tone grew tight and impatient. Regardless of how comfortable he made her accommodations, she was still a prisoner.
“The menus are now in Bilarrian,” Tonn told her. “You also have limited access to the ship’s computer. You’ll be able to search the library and entertainment files. Any flat surface in the room can become a display.”
Having something to fill her time would make her stay much more bearable. Still, she didn’t want to become complacent. “Thank you.” He’d clearly intervened on her behalf and she needed to be gracious.
“I’ll return shortly.” He turned and left the cabin without waiting for a response.
How long did Kryton intend to keep her aboard this ship? She couldn’t pilot a shuttle, so her chances of escaping were basically nonexistent as long as they were in space. Should she give in and allow him to bed her? Could she lure him into a false security if she pretended to surrender?
The possibility made her laugh. Who was she trying to fool? It wouldn’t be a pretense. She just wanted to join her body with his, if only for a night or two. It had been so long since a male touched her the way Kryton touched her. That was rubbish too. No one had ever affected her the way Kryton did.
She’d never tried to suppress her sexual nature. She wasn’t ashamed of her desire, but she refused to be ruled by it either. If she’d met Kryton under different circumstances, they would be lovers, likely mates. A genetically compatible male was something to treasure. She’d been searching for a potential mate for the past six years. Even so, succumbing to an enemy was unthinkable. She had to resist him, and resist her desire for him, for as long as possible.
Tonn returned a few minutes later with a stack of garments draped over his arm and a canvas bag clutched in his other hand. “I’m no expert on female attire, so I brought an assortment.” He raised the bag and went on. “This contains personal items. If you need anything else, just let me know.” He walked into the bedroom then returned without his burden. “Do you have any questions? I really do need to get back to work.”
She shook her head, not looking forward to being alone again. “You’ve been very kind. Thank you.”
“Someone will bring you a tray within the hour.”
“If the kiosk is unlocked, can’t I just choose my own meals?”
“The commander wants to start with beverages.” Tonn’s smile appeared almost apologetic. “If you behave yourself with the privileges you’ve been given, he’ll allow you even more freedom.”
She nodded, dreading the answer to her next question. “When will he return?”
“I have no idea.” He seemed uncomfortable, so she wasn’t surprised when he bowed and left the cabin.
She blew out a ragged sigh then looked around, unsure how she felt about her new cage. The other cabin had been more confining. It was a continual reminder of her true circumstances. This might weaken her resolve, allow her to forget that she was a prisoner. Maybe she should refuse all the comforts Tonn had provided. She could stay in the bathrobe and—she harmed no one but herself with that attitude. Kryton didn’t care what she wore. He’d only take it off her soon after he arrived anyway.
With another sigh of frustration, she walked into the bedroom and went through the things Tonn had gathered for her. She selected a dress and set it aside, then hung the others in the closet. Each garment was rich and elegant, obviously meant for wealthy customers. Why would a Rodyte warship have such things on board? Maybe Kryton and his crew weren’t part of the legitimate military. Dread sank into her belly as her thoughts spiraled downward. Was Kryton a pirate or a Rodyte-sanctioned privateer?
She shook away the useless speculation and slipped into the borrowed dress. The style was simple, even a bit provincial with a lace-up bodice and long, loose skirt. The quality of the fabric and the construction of the garment were excellent and she liked the vivid blue color. She found a pair of slip-on shoes in the canvas bag, along with lotion, a brush, decorative combs and a variety of personal care items. Tonn had done well to anticipate her needs.
After putting everything away in the utility room, she stepped into the shoes and returned to the outer room. Food was delivered a short time later, though she didn’t have much of an appetite. Sitting around worrying about what would happen the next time Kryton walked through the door was pointless. She needed some sort of a strategy. Allowing him to control the situation had been a disaster.