3

Chapter 3

Cleo had helped her dress in an emerald green dress that displayed an alarming amount of cleavage. It was a beautiful gown, as was the white silk slip she wore underneath. She hadn’t protested when Cleo gave her sexy lace underwear to put on before the slip and had managed not to ask about a bra, figuring she wouldn’t be wearing any of the clothes long enough to need one.

Midway through their preparations, a maid in a white uniform brought them a selection of cheeses and a bottle of local white wine. There was also a pot of tea, and Cleo poured her a cup without asking. With a doubtful sniff, she looked up at the other woman. “It smells strange.”

Cleo nodded. “It’s not the tastiest thing ever, but a little stevia makes it better.” She spooned in a bit of green powder into her cup before drinking it in one long gulp.

Shaking her head, Madison started to hand back the cup. “I’ll stick with the wine.”

“Drink it, honey.”

She regarded Cleo with mistrust. “Is it drugged?”

Her friend laughed. “No, it’s contraceptive, honey.” She patted Madison’s hand not holding the cup. “You know, to prevent babies?”

“Oh.” They thought of everything, didn’t they? She was relieved for that, because the last thing she wanted was a permanent reminder of this evening. With a grimace, she chugged the awful stuff, wondering if it would have been improved with the sweet herb the other woman used.

They resumed preparations as they worked their way through the wine and cheese. She noshed lightly on the cheese, but had two full glasses of the wine to relax her, allowing her to be more pragmatic about the evening ahead.

Unfortunately, a good bit of her wine buzz had faded by the time Cleo pronounced her ready, after trimming her hair and curling it with some kind of electronic rod Madison had never seen before. It was decadent to plug something so frivolous into the outlet, but Cleo had done so with an ease that suggested she took such toys for granted.

Cosmetics adorned her face, and she had to resist the urge to wipe at her skin to remove the unaccustomed junk. It felt heavy and unnatural, though it had given her pale cheeks a healthy-looking glow and really darkened her blue eyes.

Her stomach was a ball of nerves as she followed Cleo from the room and down the hall to another bedroom with double doors. These had intricate designs in the wood and shining knobs that looked like gold. With a discreet knock, she turned to Madison, squeezing her hand. “Just relax and have fun, honey.”

“You aren’t coming in?”

Cleo grinned. “The commander isn’t into ménages, Madison.”

“Huh?”

With a fluttery wave, she said, “Never mind. I’ll see you in the morning.”

As the knob started to turn, she reached out blindly for her only anchor in the storm. “Where do I go after he’s done?”

Cleo whispered, “He’ll expect you to sleep with him, but he’ll be gone long before you wake. Come find me in the morning after you get up.” With that, the other woman was gone on a cloud of floral scent, leaving her to face the lion in his den alone.

The door opened a second later, and she literally forgot how to breathe for a moment. Tiernan Archer was as close to perfect as any mortal man could be. His chiseled features were even and appealing, and his just-a-hint too full lips saved him from being too flawless. His hair was somewhere between brown and blond, currently a damp mass of tumultuous short curls that softened him somehow.

Her breath returned with a harsh exhale when he smiled at her, increasing his perfection even further in a way that made her heart flutter and warmth pool in her stomach.

“Please come in, Madison.”

His voice was as smooth as her father’s favorite wine blend, with just a hint of roughness. If his voice were a wine, she’d identify it as a chardonnay aged in oak, with a hint of vanilla and spice. Would he have a smooth mouth feel? Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to find out. She crossed the threshold into another room of elegance, this one even more elaborate than the one Cleo was using.

He held out a hand, and she extended hers. Instead of shaking it, he just held it for a moment, cradled between both of his. She sighed when he brought it to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of her hand.

“Thank you for accepting my invitation.”

The smartass retort of repeating the soldier’s words that one didn’t say no to Archer didn’t spring to her tongue. Neither did she point out it had been more of a summons than an invitation. Instead, she managed an idiotic nod.

“I’m Tiernan Archer.”

“Madison Cole,” she said in a shaky tone.

Tucking her arm into his, so her palm rested at the crook of his elbow, he led her across the marble floor to a small table near a doorway. She couldn’t tell what was in the next room, but assumed a bed lurked somewhere in the suite.

“I know. I hope you don’t mind me asking about you, but I saw you this morning. When you took off your hat and all that glorious hair spilled out, I knew I had to meet you.” He took time to seat her, pushing in her chair for her before he sat in the one across from her. It was such a small table that their legs were only inches apart.

“I see.”

“Governor Blaney was happy to assist me in finding out your name.”

“I’m sure,” she said with a bit more scorn than she’d intended.

He lifted a brow. “Do you doubt his helpfulness?”

She could bite her tongue off and happily would to avoid answering his question. Without knowing his relationship with Blaney, she couldn’t afford to say anything that could be construed as unflattering. “Of course not. You’re the commander of the Federation. I doubt there’s anyone in the nine hundred-plus square miles of the Northwest Federation that wouldn’t jump to provide you with assistance.”

He made an ambiguous sound as he reached for a bottle of wine and poured them both a glass. Out of habit, she sniffed and tasted it before nodding. As she looked up, she caught his glint of amusement.

“Does it meet your approval, Madison? May I call you Madison?”

“Of course, Commander Archer, and it’s very good wine.”

“I prefer my friends call me Tiernan.” His voice dropped another octave, taking on more of a smoky tint. “And I’m sure we’ll be friends.” After a second, his tone returned to the less intimate one he’d been using. “Blaney assures me it’s the best wine available in the province.”

She gave him a bland smile. “Um hmm.”

Tiernan grinned, and the boyish expression made her heart race and her hands tighten on the glass. Thank goodness she had better manners than to hold it by the stem, or she might have snapped the fragile crystal.

“You disagree?”

Madison shrugged. “I think he’s just never tried our family’s wine. My father has a unique recipe and makes some of the best chardonnay or pinot noir you’ll ever taste.” Lifting her glass slightly in semblance of a salute, she said, “And I’m including the other wineries of the Federation in that challenge, Tiernan.” His name tasted crisp on her tongue, like a Riesling with a hint of pear.

He lifted his glass in a similar manner. “I love a confident woman.”

Her confidence fled at his words, and she dropped her gaze. “I know a lot about wine.” She toyed with the stem of her glass after putting it on the table. “It’s been a valuable skill that has sustained my family since trade resumed a few years after The End.”

He nodded. “And wine is why I’m here.”

She looked at him again. “How do you mean?”

Tiernan hesitated for a brief second, as though deciding something. Perhaps her trustworthiness. “Would it shock you to learn Governor Blaney’s shipments have been light of late?”

Striving for a neutral expression, she said, “How odd.”

Tiernan managed a small smile. “Isn’t it? He insists there is a rebel group hijacking shipments. Have you heard anything about rebel activity?”

Madison blinked. “Rebels? In Graceport?”

He lifted a shoulder. “According to Blaney, it’s all throughout the Yakima-Grace region.”

“Wow. I’ve never heard anything about rebels, but I guess it’s possible.”

His smile widened a bit. “Yes, I’ll give the governor the benefit of doubt. I’m lending him a squad of soldiers to escort shipments to Seattle-Archer for a while.” He sipped the wine. “I believe Sergeant Nash is the one who brought you here. He’ll be staying in the area with nine other soldiers to monitor for this so-called rebel activity.”

She swallowed, disliking the idea of a squad of prying soldiers examining every aspect of life in their quiet province. “I think they’re wasting their time,” she said bluntly, without thought. “It’s far more likely you’re dealing with—” Abruptly, she shut her mouth with an audible click, realizing she was in danger of giving an opinion that could get her or her family killed. Just because Archer appeared to distrust Blaney didn’t mean he actually did.

After a moment, Tiernan waved a hand. “Please continue.”

She struggled to find something acceptable to say. “Incompetence,” she blurted. “It’s probably a paperwork error or something,” she finished lamely.

Tiernan had a way of looking at her that felt like he had stripped every ounce of flesh from her bones and was visually probing her skeleton, perhaps to pierce her heart and read the truth. “You’re lying.”

Nerves made her hand tremble as she lifted the glass to gulp. “This vintage does grow on you.”

His large hand engulfed hers, suddenly reminding her of Cleo’s assertion that the commander was very blessed. Heat coursed through her, scorching her cheeks, and she jerked away from his touch, spilling wine on the white tablecloth. “I’m sorry. Excuse my clumsiness.”

With an offhanded toss, he put his napkin over the spreading stain. “I don’t give a damn about the spill. What I care about is the wine I’m expecting from this province. It’s a valuable commodity for trading, and a great deal of the staples we all rely on only come about because of our wine. So, if you know something about why it’s disappearing, I order you to tell me.”

The change from lighthearted suitor to imposing commander was instantaneous and terrifying. She froze, clenching her hands into fists.

“Speak,” he barked.

Trying not to shake and visually reveal her fear, she said, “I don’t know anything, okay? I was just speculating Blaney has been skimming some of the wine from your shipments for his own purposes.”

His tone softened. “Why do you say that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. My p…some people say he’s as corrupt as the day is long. I don’t know why they say that.”

Tiernan’s posture changed, once more looking relaxed. “I’ve heard the same whispers. For Blaney’s sake, they should not be true.”

Madison knew better than to ask what would happen to the governor if Archer found proof he was cheating on his provincial taxes. The last thing she wanted was to feed Tiernan’s anger. Her stomach picked the perfect moment to growl.

He laughed softly. “It sounds like you’re ready for dinner?”

She nodded, eager to get metaphorically as far away from the previous topic of conversation as possible. The reminder of the power he wielded had served as a damper for the rampant attraction she’d felt for him. She didn’t need any more displays of it if she was going to get through the night.

To her surprise, he served them himself from a rolling cart nearby. Her mouth watered at the food he set before her. It was some kind of small bird stuffed with fruit. Since the wine and cheese had been all she’d consumed in hours, it took every ounce of self-possession not to dispense with the fancy cutlery and just pick up the bird to rip into it with her teeth. It tasted even better than it looked or smelled, and she closed her eyes for a moment to savor the taste.

“Is this your first time tasting pheasant?”

She opened her eyes and nodded. “It’s delicious.”

Tiernan nodded. “I always travel with my personal chef, and this is one of her specialties.”

She had a ridiculous impulse to ask if he slept with her too, but bit it back. Why would she care who the man slept with? He meant nothing to her, and after tonight, he’d go back to Seattle-Archer and forget all about her. With any luck, she’d be able to do the same.

As they ate, they discussed inconsequential things, with the topic eventually turning to their families. Madison relayed a scant version of her family history before daring to ask about his family.

“My great-grandmother was Celia Archer. You know who she is?”

Madison shrugged. “The name sounds familiar, but I’m not sure.”

He frowned. “What are they teaching you here?”

She blinked. “School in our province starts at seven and ends at fourteen. We mostly focused on the basics—math, reading, agriculture, and science. There was some history, but I don’t recall the lessons now. It was so long ago.”

Tiernan chuckled. “Just how old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“Yes, school was practically a lifetime ago,” he mocked gently. “Well, my great-grandmother was part of the United States military. She led a covert group that got warning the CME was coming.”

“CME?”

“Coronal mass ejection.” He sighed. “A solar storm. The sun emitted a huge magnetic shockwave that disrupted the electromagnetic field of the planet and killed all but the most primitive electronics.”

Her eyes widened. “So, the sun caused The End?”

“You mean to tell me they didn’t teach you about what caused The End?” When she shook her head, he cursed softly. “Seriously, I’m going to have to look into the curriculum your schools use around here.” Waving a hand, he pushed aside his now-empty plate. “Anyway, the CME hit the northern hemisphere the hardest. Certain people in high places decided that was unacceptable. They couldn’t imagine letting the US return to the Stone Age while other countries, like North Korea, continued to flourish. A decision came down to Celia to activate an experimental weapons protocol her group had been charged with creating.”

Madison leaned closer, fascinated. “Do you mean the old government destroyed everyone else?”

He nodded. “Basically. The order encompassed all the other countries in the world, including America’s so-called allies. The people at the top wanted an even playing field, so they deployed electromagnetic pulse weapons at strategic places around the globe in the hours before the CME crippled their equipment.”

She frowned. “Your grandmother helped kill the old world?”

“Great-grandmother, and yes. She was following orders. However, she also put into place her own emergency plan she’d been developing and deployed people she trusted to strategic locations before the CME hit. Her plan was to preserve as much infrastructure as possible. She stayed in Seattle, which eventually became Seattle-Archer, to indicate who was in command. That tradition continued throughout the Federation, even when there was a change in power. It would have been too confusing to change a province’s name each time someone new took over.”

“Huh. So, Fred Grace came to Yakima, hence Yakima-Grace?”

He nodded. “I believe the area comprised several cities back then, before he consolidated the region.”

“And your family has ruled since then?”

Tiernan nodded. “Yes. My grandfather, then my mother, and now me.”

A word came back to her from the times her mother had made her copy words from an old dictionary to augment her thin education at the village school. Nepotism. She wasn’t dumb enough to utter it though. Instead, she asked, “Why do we still have a lack of electricity?”

“Not enough resources or the manpower to harness them—plus, we lack the people who understand how power plants and manufacturing facilities work. I doubt you learned about it in your school days, but almost one hundred million people died just in the old United States in the few years after The End. Disease, starvation, and violence took their toll.”

She shook her head, unable to comprehend that many people at all, let alone imagining them dead. “Why do they call it The End?”

Tiernan shrugged. “I imagine it was originally something like the end of the world, or the end of the power, and was just shortened eventually.”

History had never been one of her passions, but she was reluctantly fascinated by what she was learning—in a horrified kind of way. “What happened next?”

“Slowly, governments formed again, and we ended up with several territories. My grandfather always dreamed of unifying them—with him at the head,” he added dryly. “It’s an impossible goal, at least for now. Most of the territories are struggling just to survive, same as us. Trade is about the only stable communication process between territories.”

She exhaled. “It must be hard to do what you do.”

He inclined his head. “It can be, which is why I appreciate an opportunity to relax.”

His tone had turned more intimate again, and she tensed, sensing the political discussion was over, and he was ready to progress to physical matters. A surge of panic hit her, and she pushed back from the table, stumbling over to the balcony across the room. She opened the door with a fumbling hand and stepped outside to breathe in the fragrant night air.

He followed. Of course he did. There was no way he was going to grant mercy and let her leave. She had to bite back hysteria. “The view is lovely.”

He made a noise in his throat that could have meant anything. She froze when he put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her hair back on one side. “I didn’t realize how many people live around here.” Not that she could see much of anything in detail, though the starlight gave good illumination. She was just desperate to fill the silence.

His lips teased her neck, making her gasp and tremble. He kissed her again before running his tongue down her skin. It took every bit of courage she had just to stand there as he touched her.

“You’re so tense.” He massaged her shoulders as he whispered near her ear. “Come back inside and relax.”

With a small whimper, she accepted the hand he extended and followed him back into the room. She was unsurprised when they walked through, not pausing at the table. He led her down a short hallway to another room, and her heart hammered in her ears when she saw the massive bed in the center.

The door closed with a click that sounded like doom in the quiet room. She couldn’t do this. How could he expect her to? As he stepped in front of her, lifting a hand to cup her cheek, she turned away from his touch. “Please.”

He frowned. “Please what?”

“Let me go, Commander Archer. Please. I can’t do this.”

Tiernan’s frown deepened. “You want to leave?”

Trembling, she nodded.

“But why?” He seemed genuinely astounded.

She looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m scared. I don’t know you, and I’ve never…” Trailing off, she didn’t look up until he nudged her chin up with his fingers.

His gaze was gentle, his eyes full of compassion. “I won’t hurt you, Madison.”

She nodded, wanting to believe him, but not so sure. “Couldn’t you just let me go home?”

His brow wrinkled. “I could, but the truth is, I don’t want to. I want you, and I know I can make you want me too. You just need to calm down.”

Her breath left her with a harsh sound that could easily turn to a sob. Part of her wanted to rail at him, to demand why he thought he had the right to make her stay when she didn’t want to, but another part of her wanted to be right there. Curiosity and desire had ensnared her, and she had a feeling he was right. He could definitely make her want him if she could shut off her mind.

“I’m going to kiss you now.”