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in a vain
attempt to keep his thoughts from the cabin down the corridor. The
one fashioned when he’d had this ship built. The suite of rooms
designed just for her. It was matched in all his properties. She
had rooms containing a large four-poster bed, satin sheets, gold
candelabra…drawers full of red lace garments…
    His hand tightened on the chess piece before
he put it down. One space forward. E2 to e3. The move was against
every other instinct of his heritage, and the centuries of
existence since, but he automatically knew domination and
annihilation weren’t going to get him what he wanted.
    Nothing would.
    So, for a poor attempt at second best, he’d
try spending what time he could with her, enjoy the absolute thrill
of watching and speaking and communing silently with her, but not a
moment of it touching her. And never admit to why. She didn’t ask
of his concern over her dexterity and which hand she favored. He
wouldn’t have explained. He didn’t dare see the ring on her left
hand again. He’d slam the chess board into oblivion. So, he studied
the chess set and absorbed her presence with the best of
intentions. His actions were probably labeled chivalry.
    He should have known it felt as dead as the
era that spawned it.
    She moved her pawn d7 to d5, two spaces from
his. Dane narrowed his eyes in a vain attempt to look at the board
and not her. He pondered his next move, rather than the instant
uptick in her heartbeat; the odd vibrations coming from her that
awakened every cell in his body; the instant priming that had sent
him to a cold shower. It didn’t work. He was already cold and dead.
Any heat came from her and what being in her sphere did to him. It
wasn’t something he controlled, either. Every portion of her seemed
fashioned to gain this exact reaction in him. Pure want, absolute
need, unrelenting craving.
    She was his mate! She existed…and he’d found
her!
    How was it possible to be so blessed? So
amazingly favored? And yet…how could the fates be so unfair at the
same time by keeping her from him? How was it possible she belonged
to another man? That wasn’t listed in anything Akron had described.
Dane had been told if he was really lucky, or if the stars aligned
just right, or if every soothsayer he’d visited proved accurate,
he’d find his mate, or she’d find him. And together they’d be
whole. It wouldn’t be deniable or negotiable. On either side. The
world would have hope and trust and meaning again.
    Dane licked his lips. She shifted slightly,
whether at annoyance over the length of time he contemplated his
move, or the war of emotions and urgencies he was straining to keep
in check. He didn’t dare look at her to verify anything.
    Pawn, d2 to d4.
    He took a move that blocked her and opened
access for his queen and bishop. She immediately moved the pawn in
front of her rook two spaces forward – a7 to a5. She needed to take
more time with her moves! She needed to evaluate and slow things;
give him time to control the massive urge to lunge across the table
at her, enfold her, gain access to her innermost areas, her most
feminine secrets…her perfection.
    “Sex and Sunburn,” she spoke, interrupting
the silence.
    “What?” The word was strangled.
    “That’s the property I want to buy.”
    Dane picked up his bishop with a hand that
shook and slammed it down on space 5b, threatening her queen. He’d
also used too much force. The square his bishop occupied cracked
right through the center of the marble. She sucked in a breath, as
if reading his thoughts. Her heart thumped harder, and faster,
drugging his ears with the sound.
    Damn.
    He lifted his head and glared at the ceiling.
This was harder than he’d expected, a hundred times more wondrous,
and a thousand times more painful. He reached for the edges of the
table and bit his fingers into it, shredding wood.
    “So…are you interested in selling?”
    Dane lowered his chin, ignoring the game. He
looked right at her and