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Warrior'south Woman

Resilient beauty Tedra has devoted her life to the art of gainsay, and no one, to the lowest degree of all a human, has always been able to pierce through that rigid armor of single-minded purpose. When political upheaval forces her to flee her homeland, the strongly independent maiden finds that her only refuge is in the arms of a bronzed barbarian.

In a brotherhood where warriors rule supreme, Challen is the fiercest and almost feared. He quickly claims Tedra every bit tradition and his own desires need, but though he sparks her nevertheless unfulfilled passion, the proud fighter refuses to submit to any human being's will. Challenging him to concrete battle, she also dares him to discover that she is a worthy opponent, partner, and companion—and together they tin can conquer all realms.

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Warrior's Woman

Johanna Lindsey

AVON BOOKS

An Banner of HarperCollinsPublishers

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author'due south imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to bodily events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

AVON BOOKS

An Imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers

10 East 53rd Street

New York, New York 10022-5299

Copyright © 1990 by Johanna Lindsey

Published past arrangement with the author

Library of Congress Itemize Card Number 89-92480

ISBN: 0-380-75301-4

www.avonromance.com

All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in whatever form whatsoever except equally provided by the U.S. Copyright Constabulary. For data address Avon Books.

First Avon Books Press: June 1990

Avon Trademark Reg. U.Southward. Pat. Off. and in Other Countries, Marca

Registrada, Hecho en The statesA.

HarperCollins® is a trademark of HarperCollins Publishers Inc.

Primed in the The statesA.

20 nineteen 18 17 xvi

If you purchased this volume without a cover, you should be aware that this volume is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this 'stripped volume.'

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CONTENTS

i 2 iii iv five six 7 8 9 10 eleven 12 thirteen xiv fifteen 16 17 eighteen 19

20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39

40 41 42 43 44 45 46

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TO SUSANNE, WHO SAID GO FOR It;

SHARON, FOR INSPIRATION;

AND ALFRED, FOR HIS SA'ABO.

MANY, MANY THANKS.

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Affiliate Ane

Kystran, 2139 A. C. (Subsequently Colonization)

The demonstration against boskrat killing had been going on for three days, with ecology students marching in front of the Fanya Science Lab, their projector banners flashing on and off in neon colors, protesting the need for the extinction of some other species in the name of science. The anticipated anarchism had come to laissez passer and was now in total swing, joined by bored and frustrated Fanya citizens on the watch for a little excitement and tension release.

If it were only the ecology people involved, who had protesting down to an fine art class, there wouldn't take been any problem. But the local Stress Clinic had been closed final week for remodeling and extension, and the unattached citizens of Fanya, those not having filed for double occupancy, were more aggressive than usual.

"If they don't become their sexual practice in one case a solar day in the clinics, they call up their world's coming to an end," Fanya's Chief of Science had complained to Garr Ce Bernn, present Director of Kystran. "These immature people don't think what it was like before we had Stress Clinics in every city."

"Neither exercise we," the Director had replied dryly, but he'd sent a Sec 1 as requested to pacify the man.

Tedra De Arr was the lucky volunteer ordered to Fanya to take charge of the local Security Division. And she'd known later on her first hour there that if the growing crowds got out of hand, there wouldn't exist much she could practise virtually information technology without some serious damage to life and limb involved. The Fanya Security Division was nothing but a bunch of immature graduates who didn't know their phazor units from their communicators, the reason that they were never given combo-units. And if the cits decided to become destructive while rescuing the ugly little boskrats, she didn't see much hope in stopping them with the kind of backup available in this small town.

With only 40 Sec men on hand and at to the lowest degree a hundred citizens already breaking down the outer doors, Tedra thought nearly leaving quietly by the rear archway. That was what those frightened scientists had done, and she didn't give a farden damn about the scaly trivial creatures they'd left backside for her to defend. Defend, hell. She couldn't stand the creepy things herself. Why would she want to defend them?

With unkind thoughts for the human who had volunteered her for this temporary duty, Tedra lifted the estimator link from her belt which gave her a straight line to Martha, her personal Mock Two computer. "You know the stats, Martha, and they're breaking the doors down now. What are the odds on their grabbing the boskrats and running?"

"About lx to i." Martha's very feminine voice came through the small, hand-sized link unit loud and clear. "If it weren't for the Stress Clinic being closed—"

Tedra cut her off with a snarl, literally, returning the compact unit to her belt. "Farden sex," she cursed to herself. "When did it get to be a be-all, catholicon, got-to-take-information technology-or-I'll-fall-to-pieces—or get violent?"

"Did you lot say something, Sec ane?"

Tedra turned around to the child backside her, and he was simply a kid. Couldn't be more than than xviii years. Of course, when she was eighteen, she'd been at the tiptop of her class, had been actively working for a year even though she continued her training, and was already unmatched in her field. That was v years ago. Four years ago she had earned her present rank, Security ane, the highest rating for an good in weapons and manus-to-manus combat. The young man who had spoken wasn't likely fifty-fifty a Sec five, the lowest rating, though he would accept to be to be assigned to her. They shouldn't turn them out for agile duty until they are gear up, just you couldn't tell Administration that, not when in that location was such a shortage of Security available. Too many of the new crop of students elected to railroad train for more fulfilling and less dangerous life careers, particularly on a planet not at war and in a league of planets devoted to peace and profitable trade.

"No, I didn't say annihilation to you lot, Sec 5, but I'll say information technology now. Nosotros're going to allow the cits have what they want, because I don't believe a building and a bunch of smelly, ugly boskrats are worth anyone dying for. Stay out of the fashion and hope they settle for the bosk-rats. But if they come up at you lot, shoot to stun. If that doesn't turn the tide, run similar hell. Pass the word; stun simply. If a single cit ends upward expressionless when this is over, you Secs volition answer to me."

She didn't have to add they'd wish they were the ones who'd died if it came to that. A Sec 1 was no one to cantankerous. Using you as a rag to wipe the floor with was the least of what i could do to y'all, and the Sec knew it.

When the crowd came through the concluding door into the big, vaulted lab, in that location were unfortunately few of the ecology students among them. These were the unattached cits who had been denied their daily ration of sex therapy for a week, poor things, and they had no interest in the farden boskrats other than as an alibi to relieve stress and tension in the erstwhile-fashioned way, with a heady dose of violence. They went right for the equipment and the Secs, breaking and attacking what they could. Stunning didn't assistance much beyond th

e kickoff horde.

Tedra De Arr spent the next one-half hour doing some breaking herself, on bones and faces. The local med-itechs would exist busy for the rest of the afternoon, but at least no i was seriously injured. But she was withal aroused every bit hell. She didn't like to break bones and hear men scream while she was doing it, not for no farden boskrats anyway. At least the women in the crowd had stuck to damaging only the furniture and equipment, considering she liked hearing women scream even less, and she didn't need annihilation to put her in a worse foul mood.

Merely it was still a fiasco and a waste matter of her talent, and she was still aroused nearly it when she subsequently returned to the temporary quarters assigned to her. That child, the i she'd just known had had no business being there, had shot his own foot with his phazor unit. What she wouldn't requite to get hold of his instructor for five minutes. He wouldn't be releasing students before they were ready after that.

Marching to her door, she slapped her mitt against the identilock without slowing her pace, and slammed right into the unmoving obstacle. She cursed a blue streak before calming enough to put her manus again to the lock for the required two seconds for identification. The door quietly slid open then under her violent glower, but she wasn't pacified, not in the least. The adjacent time Garr Ce Bernn got the idea that she'd capeesh the extra exchange tokens an outside assignment could earn, she'd tell him what he could do with them himself, and she didn't care if he was the head honcho of the whole planet.

She was a Sec 1, and the task of a Sec 1 was to protect and defend the leaders on the planet, not to exist loaned out to any farden section. Her own task was the highest-paying in her field, assigned to Goverance Edifice and the Director himself. Only to give him his due, he'd known she'd just bought a house in the suburbs outside the city, and likely idea she needed assistance paying for it. He idea he'd been doing her a favor. Later on she calmed down she'd come across information technology that way, and probably even thank him when she got back to Gallion Urban center, simply she had to calm down commencement.

Picking up her stride again, she went straight to the Sanitary wall in the corner of the one-room quarters, pressed the wall activator, and started stripping every bit the walls slid out to enclose her in a 5-foot-square area. The lights came on automatically as the newly created room within a room closed with a soft click around her. Out came the toilet if she should demand it, a hair-and-eye changer, and a drawer total of lotions and perfumes and a few male colognes left over by the last occupant. All she was interested in, however, was the bath.

She stepped out of her jumpsuit uniform, fabricated of all-conditions solarcloth in the standard silver-gray that denoted her rank. The body revealed in the mirrored wall to her left was long-legged, tightly muscled, in prime condition. Force was at that place without the bulge of musculus, leaving lines femininely curved and deceptive. It was a body that had undergone fifteen years of intensive exercise and grooming, turning it into a fighting machine. She still regretted the three years that had been wasted as a pupil of Earth Discovery, her second choice in careers, before her height finally became apparent and she was allowed to switch to her get-go pick.

She paused when she defenseless a glimpse of herself in the mirrored wall and noticed the pout still marring her fine-boned countenance. She needed a tension relaxer merely knew the bath wouldn't practice it. What she needed was her massager, merely every bit the machines were rare and used but by a few residents on Kystran, they weren't standard in temporary quarters. The flat had almost of the other amenities she would discover at home, but a massager wasn't ane of them.

She knew what Martha would tell her to do near it, and was glad that Fanya's Stress Clinic wasn't operational, because for the outset time she was actually tempted to visit one. The benefits would be the same, only accomplished with a different kind of trunk pounding, the kind she had yet to experience, though not for lack of offers. Men were attracted to her despite her size, and it was simply her Sec one rating that kept them from becoming nuisances about it in pursuit of her. She often wondered how bad it would exist if she weren't every bit tall as she was. Merely she was higher up average in top, about an inch above the male average of five feet ix inches. Six feet was tops for men on Kystran, only rare, and all of those six-footers were in Security, which would have been dainty if she was interested, only she wasn't.

Eventually would come forth the homo she couldn't make mincemeat out of, and so she would be glad that her trunk was sleek and nicely proportioned, her breasts an abundant scattering, her waist narrower than most, and her hips marginally curved rather than bony or thrusting. The peach-gilded skin tone, big almond-shaped eyes, patrician nose, and soft coral oral cavity were nothing to ignore either. The stern brown hair and eye color were only for event and non her own today, but they couldn't detract from features that went together only right to from a very pretty parcel. Tedra didn't bemoan that parcel. She had merely never had a reason to capeesh whatever of information technology except for her acme, which was one of the main requirements for a career in Security.

She left her uniform where it dropped on the floor, knowing the robocleaner would nix out to selection up after her equally soon as the walls opened. No one could accuse Tedra of being tidy, but and then robocleaners had been around longer than she had and they tended to spoil a person atrocious, keeping everything sparkling and germ-free and in its proper place. The machine stood no higher than her hips, moved on silent rollers so it never made a nuisance of itself; in fact, most of the time she barely noticed the affair as it worked around her. Her dwelling unit was even programmed to take her society and bring her meals to her in bed if she felt too lazy or tired to become upwards and press the buttons on her Repast Provider herself. Hell, the farden thing would castor her teeth if she'd let it.

The solaray bath was smaller than her home unit by about a foot, the tubelike bathroom about a foot and a half round, but barely adequate for someone her size. The curved door slid quietly shut as soon as both anxiety were on the floor of the unit, and the alpine cylinder filled with a red light that bathed her in scarlet hues. The beam of calorie-free turned off by itself after 3 seconds, the door opening automatically, a silent suggestion that she step out, which she did, squeaky clean now from head to toe, even the dull brown of her hair given a soft sheen in the cleaning. She didn't know how the thing worked, but the solaray bath had come up into employ more than fifty years agone during what was now termed the Great H2o Shortage, and stayed in use considering of the time-saving efficiency of the matter. Her home unit, a newer model, was designed to be compatible with the solarcloth of her uniforms, to make clean them every bit well, and since the compatible was sparse and comfortable enough to sleep in, too, it saved her even more fourth dimension in non having to alter wearing apparel unless she was going somewhere other than on duty. Few citizens on the planet remembered what it was like to take baths whatever other way.

But her assignment was finished here at present, and so she dialed a 2-slice outfit, which the cupboard promptly delivered, the pants and vestlike pinnacle being the only other manufactures of clothing she had brought with her for her brusque stay in Fanya. The perfume she favored had been applied only last calendar week, so she didn't need to refresh information technology. And the little bit of middle makeup she preferred, a thin application of black liner that matched her lashes, and the barest smudge of blusher were permanent. She was done with the nondescript hair color now that the job was finished, and spared the twenty seconds required for a new color, a vibrant lemon yellow that she couldn't wear well with any simply the brownish centre shade. She kept her long hair in the tight folded roll required by her job, since information technology was unnecessary to loosen it for cleaning or coloring. A quick swipe with the styler over her shortened bangs to get them off her forehead, and she was fix to depart, the whole process having taken less than 5 minutes.

The robocleaner was already heading toward her as soon as the walls opened and disappeared in their slots. "Pack me to go, fella," she told it, not having bothered to name a temporary unit of measurement, afraid her home model might get jealous if she did. Even though it wasn't a free-thinking machine like Martha, she didn't want to accept whatsoever chances of upsetting her smoothly ru

n household.

While she waited for her personal items to be collected and bagged, she headed for the audiovisual console to call her boss to tell him she had happily failed her mission. Every single boskrat had been whisked out of the lab when the ecology students had finally stumbled their way over the bodies on the floor to rescue their scaly friends. Actually, she hadn't really failed. The building was still continuing, no one was expressionless, and in that location was merely minor damage to the interior of the lab. No 1 had said she had to prevent the boskrats from leaving the premises.

Dropping into the adjustichair before the console, which immediately adjusted to her height and contours, she was just about to activate the long-distance channel for straight access to Gallion City, 9 hundred miles abroad, when the three-past-iii-foot screen flashed on in front of her, and a human being she vaguely recognized filled the screen in vivid color. Her mitt stilled in midair and she saturday back, a little in shock that the screen was on without having had the voice command of "Answer," nor had the console chimed that there was a phone call awaiting her attention. People didn't appear on audiovisual consoles without permission, since the viewing was 2-manner and it would be an invasion of privacy otherwise. Still there the human was, looking at her, sitting behind a desk-bound in an part she did recognize, the office of the Director of Kystran, just he was almost definitely non Garr Ce Bemn.

The daze dissipated before he spoke as it dawned on her that he couldn't see her, that she was seeing what many other people were likely seeing at that very moment—a multiple transmission. She knew it could exist done, that every single audiovisual unit could broadcast simultaneously planetwide, only it had never been done before, and then she couldn't be faulted for being thrown past information technology. Only the shock returned as he began to speak.

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