Ricochet (16 page)

Remnants of food littered a plate next to him on the bed. Bastard. He must have replicated a meal, never asking her if she was hungry. She narrowed her eyes as he kept his attention trained on the datapad on his lap.

“Found ’em when I showered earlier.”

“And you got back into bed after that? Why?”

“You looked all soft and cuddly in the sheets, no prickles visible. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see what that Willa would be like.”

Did the man have to be a jerk every time he opened his mouth? Yet it pleased her he’d returned to the bed—and her. “Where are the towels?”

“There’s a cabinet near the door.” A smug grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “Help yourself. I’m not your servant or your father, but I am the guy who rocked your world.”

“Go fuck yourself.” She wrenched open the cabinet. Her shoulders sagged in relief when there really was a stack of towels inside. Grabbing one, she wrapped it around her body and tucked in the ends.

“No can do. I’d rather play another round with you.” Finally, he peered at her, and his eyes were hard and flat. “Let’s get a few things out of the way first thing this morning.”

“All right.” Since their overnight bags were on the ship taken by the thieves, she began finger-combing her hair.

“I don’t need you thinking you’re in love with me now that I banged you.” He crossed his legs at the ankles. As he shifted, his half-erect cock bumped against the datapad. Her belly twinged. “Most of the women do, but I expect better things from you.”

What a conceited man.
“It’s a good thing you’re into yourself, since every person you’ve ever known leaves you. Think about that for a second.” Despite his being a jerk, curiosity about his past drew her in. She wanted to keep him talking; otherwise, she’d have nothing to focus on but the enclosed room while the claustrophobia returned. “Here’s a cold, hard fact for you. We’re stuck in this room until the door opens at our departure time. Since I’ve shared about my life, or had it dragged from me, I think you should return the favor. Why is the great Stratton Sinnet so messed up?”

“That depends on how you look at the situation.” He laid the datapad aside and wrapped one of the sheets around his waist. “Personally, I think I’m well adjusted.”

“Are you? Let’s do a quick recap.” She perched on the edge of the mattress. “You said your parents were killed when you were young, and no particular family wanted to keep you. That had to make an impression on you.”

“What’s your point? We have a course to plot.” Unidentified emotion roughened his voice until it matched his eyes—cold, hard and angry.

She raised an eyebrow. How far could she push before he went over the edge he presumably couldn’t see? He deserved payback. “Here’s how I see it. You tripped around this galaxy and the next, taking odd jobs, hooking up with random women in an effort to guard yourself against getting too close or hurt. All short-term. No need to worry past a few weeks or a month. How’s that working for you now?”

Stratton’s lips disappeared into a thin line as fire burned deep within his eyes. “My life was fine until I got paired with you at the start of this damned race.”

“Ah, so it’s my fault you’re probably feeling disconnected from life or that loneliness is biting at your heels.” She ran a fingertip along the hem of her towel, feeling each square of the waffle pattern. She wanted to break him, make him as miserable as he’d made her, until he cried for mercy or owned up to his feelings. “You’re, what, in your late thirties? I’ll bet you’re longing for a stable home. You want someplace to call your own and connect to or put down roots. Am I right?”

“My life is not up for discussion.” He wriggled off the bed and began to pace the small expanse of floor. His knuckles turned white as he clutched the sheet. “I enjoy chasing a bounty. I enjoy women. As long as I’m happy, what difference does everything else make? It’s more than what you have.” Anger rolled off him so powerfully, Willa felt its hot energy from where she sat. The room filled with his presence, pulsing, seeking and looking for a new victim to consume.

She attempted to calm her rapid heartbeat by taking slow, measured breaths, but his masculine scent filled her nostrils, derailing any chance at peace. “I’m happy in my own way.”

“Are you?” He turned, pressing against her legs and looming over her. “Spending your life desperate for a male to give you praise? That can’t possibly fill you up inside. I’m surprised you’re not working your way through this race on your back, hoping to replace the lost daddy-love.”

Her stomach ached as if he’d physically kicked her. Was that how she appeared to him? Her chin trembled. No way would she cry. “Oh, like having sex with any female who’ll spread her legs will replace a family’s love for you?” She wrapped her arms around her middle and averted her face from his intense gaze. “Take your own advice, Stratton. Get happy with who you are, because I don’t think it’s happened yet.”

“Woman, how many times do I need to say it?” He gripped her shoulders, pulling her upright. The sheet began a slow slide over his hips. “I don’t want anything else from my life. Why should I? I have money, women and everything else those two things can give me. Most men would kill to be me.”

“No.” Her knees wobbled, but she remembered to hold up her towel. “Most men try to kill you because you steal everything they have.” She peered into his eyes, hating the confusion and rage she found there. Willa wanted to draw him out, force him to confront what he’d denied, for years probably.

“You have no idea who I am.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” The fact that she wanted to know him on a personal level, beyond a race partner, worried her. Never had she cared about anyone on that level before. She had to find out how far she could push before he cracked. “You have nothing, so you take stuff that’s not yours. Everything you’ve come by is stolen or illegal, earned by the sweat of someone else’s back. When you do achieve a goal and think about how good it feels, you bail and run, because you don’t want the responsibility.”

When he remained silent, Willa continued. “You have nothing to call your own, yet you refuse to rest on your own accomplishments.” Hurt sprang into his expression. She gave a small smile, knowing she’d finally touched a nerve, broken through his unaffected attitude. It made him less of a legend and more human. “Don’t preach to me about happiness when you’ve never had any.”

“Are you finished?” His fingers dug into her shoulders.

For the moment, since she refused to acknowledge how off kilter he made her feel. She shrugged. “I guess so. It’s not like you’ll bare your soul. At least not now.”

“You want to know something about me? Fine. I don’t have parents anymore and, yes, I am alone in this world. Why? Because some jackass with a laser gun took them out right in front of me.”

“Oh, I—”

“Happy now, or do you want me to keep talking?” Unknown emotion roughened his voice. “If you don’t like who I am now, you’ll never like me. I’m not the sort of guy who’ll change. I scheme and weasel my way around until I get my bounty. I cheat, drink and sleep with toxic women. On occasion, I kill a few people. It is what it is.” He held her gaze, intensely searching. “Got it?”

What did he think she’d do, fall on her knees and beg him to change, to stay with her? That would never happen. She didn’t need him, and there was no way she’d ever become a woman codependent on a man who treated her… She gasped. A man who treated her like her father and brothers. They really didn’t care. Why should she align herself with a carbon copy?

One of his eyebrows quirked. “Care to share that
aha
moment?”

She shook her head. “Don’t expect me to change either, especially not overnight just because you say I should. I’ll work on it, though.” Willa ignored the spirals of need heating her stomach, but her legs refused her brain’s command to move as his eyes darkened. “You may not like the woman I am, and I can’t help that.” She swallowed. “I’m in a constant state of flux.”

“That’s exactly where I like my women.” Stratton leaned into her, his lips mere millimeters from hers. His warm breath whispered over her mouth, tasting slightly of the fruit he’d eaten at breakfast. She could discern every individual hair in his thin, sculpted beard. “You’re stubborn as hell. That means trouble.”

Willa’s throat grew dry. “I guess you’re not up to the task?” Her knees knocked together as he ground his hips into hers. His clean scent, the feel of his hard body against hers, the fact he was aroused even through his anger, sent her equilibrium into a tailspin. Why was she having this conversation with him? Hadn’t she made her mind up to go her own way after the race?

He stroked his fingers along her cheek and down the side of her neck. Her new resolve started to crumble like a child’s sandcastle in the oncoming tide. “I’m not looking to add trouble. I travel light.”

She bit back a moan, waiting for him to kiss her. If he wanted it, he’d have to take it. She wouldn’t give in. Stratton held his position for endless seconds, his gaze boring into hers, his expression unreadable. Then, with a shake of his head, he reared back. Willa couldn’t understand why he hadn’t gone ahead and kissed her. Did he value the upper hand in their partnership more than the connection? Did she?

She tried to look around him, over his shoulder, anywhere other than him, to cover her confusion, but Stratton seemed to fill all available space. The silence grew deafening. “Um, we should—“

“Sorry,
kita
, but we have a course to plot.”

Willa wouldn’t let him change the subject. The man was too damned interesting to let the conversation end. She had to know more. “What about your fear of the Caringa?”

“What about it? Sharing time is over.” He bent and retrieved the sheet, wrapping it around his waist as if he had no other care in the world. “Do you realize we’re ready to enter the last leg of this race? Next stop is a planet, an ice planet at that. Treachin Houth. Do you know anything about it?”

Tucking the towel more firmly around her, she sighed but let the previous subject drop. “I visited there once when I was very young. It was on a family outing. My brothers enjoyed the snow sports the planet offered. All I remember was the snow. It was blue, and it sparkled in the dual moonlight.”

“And? Is there more to this lovely story?” Sarcasm mixed with his words.

“My father told me we were there to conquer the slopes, not make castles. But to my little-girl self, it was magical, and I enjoyed it. Later, after I became a pilot, I took a brief vacation there, to see if I could recapture that feeling.”

“Did you?”

“No.” The damned tightness returned to her throat. She ignored it, like everything else. There’d be time later to analyze her feelings. “It was only another tourist trap after all. I guess my imagination had created something else in those long-ago days.” The childhood dreams were no more foolish than the secrets of her womanly heart she wouldn’t allow anyone else to know.

He snatched the datapad from the bed, scrolling through screens as if his life depended on it, but he didn’t comment on her statement. “Says here the marker is hidden somewhere in a city, near the commerce district. It mentions to look for a narwhal, an animal that some legends say has never existed on this planet or any other. Maybe at one time, it did live on Earth, but not now.”

“Not my problem, Ace. As of this moment, I’ll be the pilot for the rest of this mission. You’re the nav. You figure it out.” She brushed past him, her limbs shaking from strain as she checked on their uniforms that hung on the back of the door. Almost dry. “Find something to do until the door unlocks. As you said, sharing time is over.” She retreated into the bathroom. The prospect of spending enforced proximity with a pissed off and emotionally constipated Stratton didn’t sound too appealing at the moment.

Once the door to their room had been unsealed and they’d departed the asteroid without incident, Stratton sat in the navigator’s seat, boots propped on the scratched and scarred console, watching Willa through half-closed eyes. They’d been underway for a good three hours, and for most of that time, neither of them had spoken. Stratton dozed on and off, sleep deprived since sharing a bed with her. Having to behave himself kept him from slumber. Now, he was unsure of how to handle a situation for the first time in his life.

She’d never know, but her constant questions this morning had dredged up old hurts he’d thought long buried. Of course it stung to think of not having roots, which was exactly the reason he didn’t think about it. As long as he kept moving, kept busy with his bounty work and taking comfort where he could find it in the arms of transient women, he’d never think about his past.

Hadn’t he promised himself not to remember? To be better than where he’d come from and never to be left behind or feel unwanted again?

He glided a finger along the smooth edge of the datapad. Should he mention their mattress aerobics or leave the incident alone? Should he apologize? Shit, why was dealing with this female so difficult, and why the hell was he worried about it? He’d never allowed a relationship to form after sex with any other woman. Why would
she
be any different? Again, his gaze drifted to Willa’s profile. She didn’t seem outwardly annoyed about their coupling or the silence. If anything, one corner of her mouth was lifted in a half smile.

That little gesture sent unfamiliar sensations prickling through his heart, causing him to blurt out, “You know, my parents survived the initial attack all those years ago.” Stratton slammed his feet to the floor and straightened in his seat. He needed to hear her voice, if only to assure himself he’d made the right decisions.

Willa pressed a few buttons, and two glowed yellow on the console. She swiveled around to face him. “The ship’s on autopilot for a few minutes.” In the dim glow of the interior lights, curiosity showed in her expression. “What happened?”

In the face of her interest, Stratton struggled with sharing too much. Eventually, he gave up a bit of the fight. “They, uh, died trying to board one of the escape transports a few hours later.” He tugged on the suddenly too-tight collar of his slick gear. “A group of invaders got wind of the evacuees, I guess. I remember feeling my mom’s hand slip from mine as she shoved me into the ship. It was crowded, and people were jostling all over the place, hoping to be taken. As I turned to make sure her and Dad followed, everyone behind me on the ramp was mowed down by laser fire.” A swallow pushed an unexpected lump down his throat. “The pilot took off, and the cargo door shut. I never saw my parents again.”