Authors: Caroline McCall
The new cell was identical to the first. Humans really knew
how to make a girl feel special, but it had been worth it. The captain had torn
strips off Jake in the shuttle bay and he was in a whole lot of trouble over
her little escapade. Tanith lay down on the bunk and, for the first time in
weeks, she smiled. The perfect solution to her desire for revenge had just
presented itself. Any mischief she got into would be reflected back on Jake and
she had six months to torture him and make his life hell. He would be glad to
get rid of her by then and she could start a new life on Earth.
Tanith eyed the security monitor overhead. She couldn’t try
to escape again. They would be waiting for that. She needed to get creative.
Pursing her lips, she blew a kiss at the monitor. “Crewman, I need access to
the regulations governing the treatment of prisoners and could I possibly have
a nail file?”
Restricted access to the ship’s com was granted several
hours later, but the nail file didn’t arrive. What did they think she was going
to do with it? All she wanted was a manicure. Tanith spent the evening reading
through Fleet Command regulations, pausing to smile flirtatiously at the young
crewman who delivered her meal. He pushed the tray into the cell before running
away like a scared
ground warver
. By the time the lights were dimmed,
she was almost looking forward to the next day.
Tanith looked at the startled crewman’s face. The young
ensign had just delivered breakfast and now she was going to ruin his day. This
should be fun. “Fleet Command Regulation 5993.2—all prisoners being held for a
period exceeding one week are entitled to a minimum of two hours exercise time
outside the cell each day.”
“Ma’am, I don’t know…”
She tapped her foot impatiently. “Then I suggest you find
out.”
An hour later she was in the female changing room in the
gymnasium. They had left her a selection of exercise clothes to change into,
all of which were very utilitarian. That wouldn’t do at all. Not for what she
had in mind. The girl at the far side of the changing room was wearing
something much more interesting.
Jake groaned when he heard his name being called on the
ship’s com. He had just come off duty—eight hours on the bridge, passing
through some of the most boring space imaginable, without so much as an
asteroid field to navigate through. Strom had been furious about Tanith’s
little escape effort and now he had been rostered for a week of night duty.
Still, it had almost been worth it for that brief touch of her skin. Tanith
might hate his guts but she still wanted him, and that was a start.
“Lieutenant Svenson, report to deck fourteen immediately,”
the call came again as Jake struggled into his uniform. There was nothing on
deck fourteen but ship’s stores and recreational facilities. Why would they
want him there? Jake walked the deck, glancing through each open door. Most of
the facilities were quiet, but there was a crowd in the gym. Strom paced the
corridor impatiently.
“Lieutenant Svenson, would you care to join me on the
viewing deck, please?” The flinty glare in Strom’s eyes belied his polite
request and Jake followed him obediently up the stairs.
The viewing deck was crowded, which usually only happened if
there was a team contest scheduled. Some of the crew shuffled out when they
noticed the captain’s arrival. One or two of the men winked in Jake’s direction
and several eyed him with unconcealed envy. Then he saw her—one hundred and
twenty pounds of physical perfection, graceful as a dancer on the parallel
bars, performing to a very appreciative audience. Lean, taut and strong,
Tanith’s long legs swung upward and she held her body in a perfectly controlled
handstand before launching into a half twist and dismounting easily. The tiny
camisole she wore barely covered her breasts and the matching thong left little
to the imagination. She might as well have been naked.
Several crewmen stepped forward to offer her a towel and she
laughingly accepted one of them, dabbing her face gently, before returning it
to him. From his blissful expression, she might as well have given him a week’s
leave. Jake had a sudden urge to choke him to death with the towel and only
Strom’s presence restrained him from beating her other admirers to a pulp.
Strom growled under his breath. “In case you haven’t
noticed, Lieutenant, she is not wearing regulation exercise clothing. Do you
know how many single crewmen there are on this ship?”
“One hundred and twenty-seven,” Jake responded
automatically.
“I want her out of there—now.”
The big guy was about to go supernova any second. “Yes Sir.
Immediately, Sir.”
Jake raced down the stairs and into the gym. The crew
scattered when they saw his furious expression. “Haven’t you forgotten
something, Tanith?” He could barely rein in the anger in his voice.
Tanith gave him an innocent look. “Don’t you like it, Jake?
The other clothing was so dull.” Dark eyes flashed mirthfully at him. “Now
don’t be angry. I didn’t ignore the regulations entirely.” She twisted her head
around. “See, I’m wearing the hair restraint.”
Tanith rolled over on the bunk. She couldn’t be more bored
than she already was. How was she going to put up with six months of this? The
gym was less fun these mornings. Although she was permitted to exercise
whatever way she chose, the facilities were closed to crew members while she
did. They had also restricted the number of visitors to the brig following an
undignified brawl in the corridor outside. She hadn’t seen the treacherous
human for almost three days. One of her visitors had told her that he was
pulling double shifts—probably as a punishment for her little gymnastic
display. How could she torture Jake if she couldn’t see him?
The burning sensation on her back was growing worse. She
knew from the mirror in the gym that the
Dermatrax
was almost fully
grown. Last night she had woken in a sweat, crying out Jake’s name. He had done
this to her, and if she didn’t get off this ship soon she was in imminent
danger of… No. She definitely didn’t want to think about that. The only one who
could release her was the captain. She would have to appeal to his better or
baser nature, anything to get off this damn ship. Tanith waved at the security
camera. “Crewman, send a message to Captain Hallstrom. Ask him if he’d like to
invite me to dinner.”
* * * * *
The following evening, Tanith prepared carefully for her
dinner with the captain. She had one shot at this and she definitely wasn’t
wearing the ugly flight suit. The nice female from the changing room had
brought her some clothing. The black dress had a deep vee at the back. She
would have to wear her hair loose to conceal the
Dermatrax
. The female
officers had sent some other little gifts, including a red lipstick and some
perfume. She didn’t need the perfume.
This morning, the spiraling pattern had reached the top of
her spine and already it was emitting a slight hint of pheromones. If she was
on Cyraelia, they would have packed her off to a women’s colony and kept her
there until a marriage could be arranged for her.
She hadn’t been sure if the pheromones would work on humans
but the ensign who brought her lunch tray had stared at her with a glazed
expression that bordered on the catatonic. She had to tell him to get lost
twice before he left her alone. If the captain reacted like that, she could
twist him around her little finger. There was no way that she wanted to return
to Cyraelia, but she could make a fresh start on another planet. At least she
would get away from the treacherous human.
Dinner for two turned out to be dinner for four—the captain,
the ship’s doctor and his wife, the ship’s botanist. The captain’s quarters
were quietly masculine, but impersonal. No images of absent family adorned the
muted walls and the furnishings, though appropriate to his rank, were probably
selected by Fleet Command. She had yet to figure Strom out. He was the one who Raoul
had been interested in. He had asked her to talk to him on the night that she
met Jake. Not spying exactly, just to find out why he was on Cyraelia and for
how long. Raoul seemed to know the captain personally, which was very puzzling.
He never told her that he had been to Earth but then Raoul hadn’t told her a
lot of things.
The botanist flashed a disapproving look at the captain. “My
dear, we didn’t realize that there was a female prisoner on board.” She eyed
Tanith’s dress. “Haven’t you been issued with a flight suit?”
Tanith cast a sidelong glance at Strom. “The fabric in the
flight suit irritates my skin. Cyraelian skin is very sensitive.”
As if to demonstrate, she traced a path slowly along her
collarbone with the tip of her finger. When the captain shifted in his chair,
she looked innocently at him before turning her attention to the doctor.
“Now that is most interesting. I received a gift of medical
data files from the Council of Cyraelian Scientists just before departure.
Unfortunately, I was unable to get any hands-on experience, so to speak, due to
cultural restrictions.” The doctor looked hopefully at her, awaiting
enlightenment.
Tanith was tempted to display the
cultural restriction
,
which stretched the length of her spine. It might be fun to see the captain’s
face if she did. No, she would save that little treat for when they were alone.
Strom was quite handsome, really—very tall and very blond, with dark eyes, the
color of aged Cyraelian brandy. None of the females on her planet had captured
his attention, although she knew that many had tried.
“Cyraelian males are protective of their females,” she
responded. “Once they are mated, only female medical staff may attend them. But
I’d be happy to assist if you find something in the data that requires
clarification.”
The doctor nodded eagerly. “That would be most kind, Tanith,
if the captain would permit.”
Tanith watched as Strom tugged at the edge of his collar. He
looked a little uncomfortable, though not as bewildered as the ensign had been
earlier. He obviously wasn’t mated or maybe he wasn’t sure if he was. The
pheromones worked best on unmated males.
As befitted a married man, the doctor was properly oblivious
to her scent. If tonight didn’t work out, she would have no problem explaining
her little difficulty to him and requesting a sedative to help her sleep. It
was a pity that medical science didn’t have a cure to stop her loving the
treacherous human.
When the doctor announced that he had some patients to
attend to, dinner finished early. Tanith reached for her glass and took another
sip of her drink. She wasn’t going anywhere—yet. Strom moved to the couch,
trying to get away from her. Poor human, he didn’t have a clue what was wrong
with him.
“I’ll have someone escort you to your quarters, Ms. Jasson.”
Yes, he was desperate to get rid of her. She smiled sweetly
at him. “Not yet, Captain, please. I’ve really enjoyed tonight. Couldn’t we
talk for a little while?”
Tanith thought she heard a low groan, but Strom pulled
himself together and assumed his usual urbane demeanor. “Of course, Ms. Jasson,
we should have spoken before now. I realize that the past few days have been
less than comfortable for you. Unfortunately, I was presented with a fait
accompli.”
Strom was surprised that his voice sounded so normal.
Throughout dinner he had felt very strange and he couldn’t fathom his sudden,
intensely lustful reaction to her. Setting her glass down, Tanith rose from the
table and came to join him. Moving to the couch had been a bad idea. At least
he could maintain some distance from her at the table, but now that the others
were gone, this evening was turning into a more intimate occasion than he had
anticipated. Damn Jake, how could he have put him in this position?
Strom edged along the couch until he reached the armrest.
Tanith appeared to be blissfully unaware of his reaction to her. She sat as
close as she could without actually touching him. Her eyes were amazing. It was
one of the first things he had noticed about her. Dark, rich chocolate with a hint
of gold around the irises, and her skin was soft and creamy, without a hint of
a blemish. He found himself desperately wanting to touch it. Dark images
flooded his mind, Tanith writhing under him, her legs wrapped around him,
crying out his name as he plunged into her.
Strom dragged himself back to reality when he realized that
she had asked him a question. He had no idea what she had just said, and when
she stroked his forearm lightly, awaiting his response, her touch felt like
electricity.
“I was just saying that I don’t blame you, Strom. May I call
you that?”
The touching continued, gentle circles this time with her
index finger and he bit his lip, trying not to moan out loud. He wanted to
move, perhaps offer her another drink, but the words refused to come from his
mouth. He sat there, wallowing in the unfamiliar sensation of a female hand.
Who would have thought that his forearm could be such a center of eroticism?
“I know that you’re as trapped in this situation as I am,
but I’ve been so lonely in the brig.”
Her lovely dark eyes filled with tears and Strom’s hand
reached out of its own accord, brushing a tear away from her eye before moving
hesitantly to trace the contours of her mouth. Her lips were incredibly soft.
They parted under his touch and her tongue flicked out, brushing against his
finger, light as a whisper. This time he did groan, before pulling his hand
away as if he had touched a flame.
“I have this burning sensation on my back,” Tanith continued
softly. “I feel so hot, especially during the night, and I don’t know what’s
wrong with me. Could you take a look?”
He must have nodded in agreement. Strom found that he was
incapable of processing more than one word in ten that she spoke to him. His
brain had gone completely off-line and his body had taken over. Tanith stood up
and pulled her long ebony hair over one bare shoulder. She was exquisite. The
back of her dress was slashed in a deep vee and along her spine was a
shimmering blue-green pattern that seemed to be alive.