Authors: Mina Carter
He coughed and covered with a smile. Smooth bastard. “How about I give you a hand getting the spare into place? We’ll be back on the road in no time.”
Heat burned her cheeks but she ignored it, turning toward him with her arms still folded. “Spare? What kind of outfit do you think I run?”
She didn’t have one. She
should
have one, and she knew it, but she didn’t.
“You don’t have a spare?” His jaw dropped, and he stared at her as if she’d grown two heads. “What kind of idiot runs a ship this size without a spare engine? Are you mad?”
“Idiot?
Idiot?”
The heat of embarrassment faded under the sharp spike of anger as it flooded her veins—as immediate and hot as the road they sailed. She rounded on him in a heartbeat, stalking toward him and stabbing him in the chest with her finger to punctuate each of her words.
“Idiot, is it? How about the idiot that saved you and your pretty-boy little racer out there? Or should I have left you in the shear for that architeuthis to find? You’d have no chance in something that size—he’d have gobbled you up whole!”
By the time she’d finished, she had him backed up against the ladder to the upper deck, her finger pressed against his chest and her face right in his.
That was when she realized he wasn’t arguing and that his blue eyes had darkened to the color of a midnight sky. She was so close she could feel the heat rising off his body. A body that was as toned and muscled as she remembered ten years ago, when she’d allowed herself a bride’s anticipation of her wedding night. He smelled so good—the faint traces of aftershave and pure, unadulterated Kelwin wrapping around her in an inescapable embrace.
Shit.
“Yeah.” His answer was clearly a throwaway, a word dropped into the tension between them without thought for what it actually was. His dark eyes signaled his intent far clearer than a detailed set of instructions.
Faster than any man had a right to be, he pushed off the ladder and grabbed her shoulders. A second later, their positions were reversed and she was pressed back against the ladder with his hard body a fraction from hers.
She didn’t even have time to whimper in feminine need at the object of so many lonely nights and frustrated fantasies. His lips crashed down on hers, anger and desire in their touch. His tongue swept her lower lip, demanding that she open up for him. Unable to do anything else, she moaned and allowed him access.
Groaning in the back of his throat, he crowded closer to drink hungrily from her mouth. His hands were on the ladder either side of her, but he didn’t touch her anywhere else. His body heat licked at her skin, tendrils of flame and need racing over her limbs in an invisible net. Anyone else and she’d have been fighting to be free, maybe even pulled out the lethal micro-blade tucked in the back of her belt. Anyone else…but him.
Her moan of pleasure was lost in his mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He didn’t know who she really was…so what was the harm? Besides, he’d been so drunk on their wedding day that he hadn’t even managed to kiss her, let alone negotiate their marriage bed. She’d left the next morning, but the way she saw it he owed her a night of passion. So why shouldn’t she take it now?
He rumbled in surprise and pleasure as she kissed him back, his strong arms encircling her slender waist. Their tongues dueled in an exchange that quickly became as darkly heated as the fires of the Hell-bound Supernovas. The slick, wet thrust and parry as he teased and withdrew sending an erotic charge of heat through her body. He lifted his head and looked down into her eyes, his expression as stunned as she felt.
“Gods…” His breathing was ragged as he smoothed her hair back from the sides of her face then leaned in to kiss her again. This time his lips were gentle, caressing hers with a reverence that made her heart—an organ she’d locked away a long time ago—ache.
Her eyes fluttered closed as he pulled away again. Sucking her lower lip between her teeth, she memorized the taste of his kisses. She ached with need, the temptation to ignore the engines and just drag him back to her cabin almost overwhelming.
Almost.
Sighing, she opened her eyes. “I need to do something about the engines.”
“What? One engine, two sides. Not much to do about that…”
His expression was tight as he looked down at her, his arms still around her waist. His voice was low, as though they were discussing more intimate things rather than the gaping hole in the hull behind them.
She shrugged, idly exploring the solid muscles of his shoulders under her fingertips. “The engines are modular. I can try to split the propulsion chambers into two.”
He sighed, amused frustration replacing the heat in his eyes as he rested his forehead against hers. “You really are a trooper, aren’t you? You’d rather mess about splitting ion engines than ask me for help?”
Nerys frowned. “Ask you for he—”
“The
Artemis
has engines,” he said softly.
She pushed him away from her and then moved past him, pacing the deck. Raking a hand through her hair, she looked at him in confusion.
“Why would you help me? That’s an expensive little toy. You can afford to wait for rescue, so why would you let me mess about with it?”
He leaned back on the ladders again, watching her with an unreadable expression. Wariness and excitement chased each other through her body as the mood between them changed. From amiable, helpful passenger, Kelwin had switched up to predatory and dangerous.
He’d been a Soldier—she knew that. And soldiers, especially the higher-ranked ones like Kelwin, could be dangerous. There were stories of those unable to cope without the cushion of war going berserk, but the way he was looking at her, she knew it wasn’t bloodlust on his mind. More the bedroom-type of lust.
He lounged, the position highlighting his lean, muscled body and making no pretense of hiding the large bulge at his groin. Her gaze wandered down, paused for a moment below his waist and carried on back up to his face.
“Impressive.” She managed to sound calm and collected—a woman of the universe. “I take it that you’re after payment in kind?”
Chapter Four
He could watch her for eternity. Kel shifted to make himself more comfortable and waited as she considered his proposition. Her full lips pursed, the look in her eyes assessing. A shiver chased over his skin in the wake of her blue-grey gaze. She was so calm and collected. If she hadn’t just melted in his arms, he’d have started to believe her claim that she was into women.
But he didn’t buy it. She wasn’t
just
into women, anyway. Not how she’d reacted to him. Male pride and anticipation filled him at the thought of the night ahead. She needed those engines to deliver her cargo, so she didn’t have an option.
She had to accept his offer.
A twinge of guilt assailed him at blackmailing her. A small one. He squashed it ruthlessly. If she hadn’t responded to his first kiss—if she hadn’t gone up in flames and taken them both to the heart of the inferno—then he’d have lent her the engines. Hell, he’d have given her the damn things…it would cost more for his engineering team to recover them from the
Lady
than they were worth. Thanks to his pay-off from the military, he was a very wealthy man. He could take the hit.
After tasting her response, her passion, all bets were off. He wanted her so much his cock was hard enough to snap in two. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth again, the sensual little movement hitting him in the gut and drawing a groan from the depths of his chest. If she’d done that during the war, when he was hyped up on Euphoria—given a look like that and the nod from her he’d have shoved her against the wall and taken her there and then, regardless of where they were and who was watching.
“Don’t look at me like that, sweet.” His voice held a note of begging as he cupped his groin and reseated his raging hard-on to get some relief. It didn’t work. “Or I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
The last woman to look at him that way had been a mere slip of a thing. Just nineteen years old, blonde and so delicate he’d been scared he’d break her… Kelwin had worshipped Nerys McQuaid from the second he saw her. When her father had accepted his request for her hand in marriage, Kel had been over the moon. Several moons. Hell, the moons in several
systems.
At Kelwin’s insistence, the wedding had been organized within days, and on their wedding day, Kel had drunk himself nearly insensible to dampen the Euphoria still in his system. He had it all planned out. He was going to take his bride like a civilized man, not some rutting animal driven by drug-induced desires.
The memory triggered a wave of bitter amusement. It hadn’t made a difference. Nerys had seemed fresh-faced and innocent, but she was in it up to her neck with her father. His drinks had been spiked. The next morning, he’d woken with a pounding headache, minus a bride and with a large hole where his bank account used to be. Lucky for him, his bank had been able to recall the money—but there was no sign of his wife.
Rhys’s gaze flitted down to his groin again, dragging him out of the unpleasant past and right back to the far more pleasurable future. Why she had reminded him of his runaway bride, he didn’t know. Right now, he didn’t care. He was only interested in Rhys and her answer.
He dropped his voice, adding a husky tone.
“It’ll be good. I promise.” He was good in bed—he knew he was. He had plenty of practice. Between missions, there wasn’t much else for a Soldier to do apart from sleep, train and visit the pleasure district on the base.
He pushed off the ladder and stalked toward her. Anticipation and lust raged in his veins, adrenalin surging through him as he approached. He imagined what she would look like naked and stretched over his bed. All that golden-hinted skin was his to kiss and caress, his to explore from head to toe.
To her credit, she didn’t back down, just watched him through unreadable eyes. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“However you want it.” He tilted his head and considered what her preferences could be. “You’re strong, but not the kind who wants to be owned—no rough and dirty sex. I think you want to be treated gently…like something precious and rare. Looked after, cared for.”
The quiver in her exhale and the sudden soft look in her eyes told him that he’d guessed correctly. Savage triumph hit him low in the gut. Forget his former bride. He’d never wanted anyone as much as he wanted the slender redheaded woman who trembled at the smallest touch of his callused fingers.
He leaned in until his breath stirred the small curls that hung loose around her neck. “I’ll take you to bed, Rhys, and treat you like no man has ever treated you before. I’ll worship your body—touch and caress you until you cry my name.”
He didn’t touch her, but gods, he wanted to. Her exotic floral scent enticed him, sliding gentle hands over his body until they wrapped around his cock. He bit back a growl as it pulsed and jerked, desperate to be free.
“I’ll make love to you…hold you until you fall asleep in my arms, then keep you safe until morning.”
He paused as she stiffened. Perhaps that last line had been a little over the top. Why he’d offered that, he didn’t know. He never spent the night with his conquests. Most of the time, he was gone before their eyelids had started to close. He’d never wanted to get to know any of his lovers before. Their intellect didn’t interest him, nor what made them tick. Like most soldiers, he was more interested in a pretty face and a full pair of tits than discussing anything of importance.
He didn’t know why Rhys was different. Because if she didn’t have to get this cargo to its destination, he’d quite happily sit on the deck above as they waited for rescue and just talk. He wanted to know what went on in her head. Why amusement danced in her eyes at some of his comments and why sadness shadowed them the next.
“No love,” she whispered. “I don’t believe in it.”
Her voice was so soft he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. His titian-haired siren didn’t believe in love? The thought should have made him rejoice. Instead, it made his heart ache.
“Okay, no love. Promise.”
Leaning in, he placed a gentle kiss on the side of her neck and swore to himself that, by the end of their night, she’d believe in love again.
He’d blackmailed her. Actually fucking blackmailed her. Her gut clenched, her heartbeat pounding in her skull as she settled herself against her harness. Hands shaking with the force of her anger, she checked her hookups for a final time.
“Shit on a stick. I must be freaking nuts,” she muttered to herself.
Swinging out from the side of the ship, Nerys maneuvered the sleek engine below into place. She was used to out-of-canopy work, but she’d never trusted the slinky protection suit that was all she could wear with the harness. As far as she was concerned, the only viable way to be outside the protection of the Idrium-laced glass was in a full protection suit with a ship-fed air supply.