then. Honestly, if I'd known I'd have to stay cooped up all the time—even in a palace—I'm not sure I would have come."
"You'll get used to it," he assured me. "I have, though I do get restless sometimes—and my brother, Trag, is even less contented."
"I didn't think he seemed very happy last night," I remarked. "In fact, I don't think I ever even saw him smile. You were the much more likable of the two."
Tychar shrugged noncommittally. "Trag is a good man, but he doesn't like it here."
"And you do?"
His lips curled into a delightfully devilish grin. "There was a time when I rebelled against being a slave, but no longer. I have a new job as your personal attendant," he said. "And I think I will... enjoy my job."
The way he was smiling at me, I almost believed him.
"You're very sweet."
"Ah, but you haven't tasted me yet," he countered, still smiling. "How can you know?"
The thought of tasting any part of him made my heart skip several beats. "That's just a figure of speech, Tychar,"
I said briskly, choosing to ignore the innuendo. "It only means that you're very nice and thoughtful, not that you actually taste good."
Regarding me with heavy-lidded eyes, he said, "You may find that I'm even sweeter when you've tasted me."
I happened to be chewing on an exceptionally juicy bit of fruit at the time, but my mouth went dry anyway.
"You taste sweet?" I asked hoarsely. "That's funny, I would have thought you'd be salty."
He blinked slowly, seductively. "That depends on which part of me you taste."
I choked slightly as I tried to decide which part of him would be sweet. Perhaps there was more than one...
"Tychar?" I said when I could talk again.
"Yes?" There was an eager lilt coloring his voice as he looked at me expectantly. He was getting to me, and he knew it. I couldn't see his groin from where I sat, but I'd have bet his cock was already rock hard. "It's much too early in the day for that sort of thing."
His full lips stretched into another smile. "But I am locked up at night."
"Which is a damn good thing, if you ask me!" I declared. "It's bad enough having to sit across the breakfast table from a naked tiger, trying not to—"
He leveled a knowing look at me. "If you feel desire for me, Kyra," he said reasonably, "then why do you resist? Is it because I'm a slave?"
"I'm—I'm not resisting anything," I protested weakly. "I just don't think Scalia would like it if I went around tasting her slave boys."
"So it is because I am a slave." I thought he seemed disappointed in me—as though he'd thought I'd be more liberal in my thinking, perhaps.
"Someone else's slave," I amended. "I wish Scalia had been a little more specific about what she wanted you to do here. I mean, attending to all of my needs could be a pretty broad range of duties, and I'm sure there are a few 'personal services' that she'd much rather you didn't provide."
I'd done my best to couch the idea in obscure terms, but he still knew exactly what I meant. Looking at me directly with his brilliant blue eyes boring into mine, he said evenly, "Perhaps she wishes for us to mate."
"Mate?" I squeaked. "Oh, surely not! We're not even of the same species, Tychar! How could we mate?" It was a stupid question, and I knew it, because there was absolutely no physical reason why we couldn't, though whether we were genetically compatible remained to be seen.
"She wanted a human woman to teach the Princess to play the piano," he said with a nonchalant shrug. "Perhaps she was told that a human would be able to mate with one of us."
I thought that was a bit of a stretch, but I'd heard stranger notions. "Well, she did say she wanted to breed more of you," I conceded. "But are you saying that this is the reason she hired me?"
"I'm sure it's not the only reason," he admitted. "She is very anxious for the Princess to learn your music."
"Now, wait just a doggone minute! Did she actually tell you any of this? It seems sort of... well, I don't know what you'd
"You'll get used to it," he assured me. "I have, though I do get restless sometimes—and my brother, Trag, is even less contented."
"I didn't think he seemed very happy last night," I remarked. "In fact, I don't think I ever even saw him smile. You were the much more likable of the two."
Tychar shrugged noncommittally. "Trag is a good man, but he doesn't like it here."
"And you do?"
His lips curled into a delightfully devilish grin. "There was a time when I rebelled against being a slave, but no longer. I have a new job as your personal attendant," he said. "And I think I will... enjoy my job."
The way he was smiling at me, I almost believed him.
"You're very sweet."
"Ah, but you haven't tasted me yet," he countered, still smiling. "How can you know?"
The thought of tasting any part of him made my heart skip several beats. "That's just a figure of speech, Tychar,"
I said briskly, choosing to ignore the innuendo. "It only means that you're very nice and thoughtful, not that you actually taste good."
Regarding me with heavy-lidded eyes, he said, "You may find that I'm even sweeter when you've tasted me."
I happened to be chewing on an exceptionally juicy bit of fruit at the time, but my mouth went dry anyway.
"You taste sweet?" I asked hoarsely. "That's funny, I would have thought you'd be salty."
He blinked slowly, seductively. "That depends on which part of me you taste."
I choked slightly as I tried to decide which part of him would be sweet. Perhaps there was more than one...
"Tychar?" I said when I could talk again.
"Yes?" There was an eager lilt coloring his voice as he looked at me expectantly. He was getting to me, and he knew it. I couldn't see his groin from where I sat, but I'd have bet his cock was already rock hard. "It's much too early in the day for that sort of thing."
His full lips stretched into another smile. "But I am locked up at night."
"Which is a damn good thing, if you ask me!" I declared. "It's bad enough having to sit across the breakfast table from a naked tiger, trying not to—"
He leveled a knowing look at me. "If you feel desire for me, Kyra," he said reasonably, "then why do you resist? Is it because I'm a slave?"
"I'm—I'm not resisting anything," I protested weakly. "I just don't think Scalia would like it if I went around tasting her slave boys."
"So it is because I am a slave." I thought he seemed disappointed in me—as though he'd thought I'd be more liberal in my thinking, perhaps.
"Someone else's slave," I amended. "I wish Scalia had been a little more specific about what she wanted you to do here. I mean, attending to all of my needs could be a pretty broad range of duties, and I'm sure there are a few 'personal services' that she'd much rather you didn't provide."
I'd done my best to couch the idea in obscure terms, but he still knew exactly what I meant. Looking at me directly with his brilliant blue eyes boring into mine, he said evenly, "Perhaps she wishes for us to mate."
"Mate?" I squeaked. "Oh, surely not! We're not even of the same species, Tychar! How could we mate?" It was a stupid question, and I knew it, because there was absolutely no physical reason why we couldn't, though whether we were genetically compatible remained to be seen.
"She wanted a human woman to teach the Princess to play the piano," he said with a nonchalant shrug. "Perhaps she was told that a human would be able to mate with one of us."
I thought that was a bit of a stretch, but I'd heard stranger notions. "Well, she did say she wanted to breed more of you," I conceded. "But are you saying that this is the reason she hired me?"
"I'm sure it's not the only reason," he admitted. "She is very anxious for the Princess to learn your music."
"Now, wait just a doggone minute! Did she actually tell you any of this? It seems sort of... well, I don't know what you'd
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