The Choosing (The Pruxnae Book 1) (12 page)

Ziri tucked the
covers under her chin and rolled onto her side, the better to admire Ryn’s nude
figure. The wicked thought brought a smile to her mouth. She folded an arm
beneath her head and studied the long length of his body, so finely made. “When
will your ship be ready?”

“Maybe today. Probably
not, though.”

“So, then you
can take me home, right?”

“We’re going
home.”

Relief flickered
through her. Persuading him to take her back to Tersii hadn’t been nearly as
hard as she’d thought it would be. “Is there a place where I can contact my
parents and let them know I’m ok?”

He chose pants,
a shirt, and underwear and padded back to the bed. Ziri’s gaze raked over his muscled
chest and flat stomach and landed on his manhood, jutting proudly away from the
juncture of his thighs. The head was broad and ruddy, the shaft thick, the hair
around it as black as the hair on his head. She sucked her bottom lip between
her teeth. What would it feel like to have him inside her, pleasing her as only
a man could? Would he take his time, loving every bit of her in a slow symphony
of heat, or would it be fast and hard and heart-poundingly beautiful?

Desire stabbed
at her, pooling between her legs in a sharp flood of warmth, and her knees
reflexively curled toward her stomach. Oh, no. No, no, no. She couldn’t have
sex with Ryn. Hadn’t she already decided that when she’d woken up with his firm
nudity pressing her into the bed, his weight deliciously unyielding above her?

“Not yet,” he
said, and she jerked her gaze to his face. A soft smile hovered on his mouth.
He shimmied into underwear, slipped a hand into the waistband, and adjusted
that long length.

She forced her
mind away from an image of him stroking himself and her watching, ignoring the
heat slinking through her blood. “Why not?”

“It’s not time.”
He shrugged on a black, long-sleeved, form-fitting shirt. “Hungry?

“Starved.” And
she was. Her stomach was eating a hole in her abdomen. “Can we go shopping
again?”

“Ziri.” He
huffed out a breath. “Didn’t you get enough of that yesterday?”

“We didn’t see
the whole market yesterday, and I saw you eyeing a few things, too.” She
clasped her hands together under her chin and batted her eyelashes at him.
“Please?”

He tugged on
pants and, without bothering to fasten them, crawled onto the bed and stretched
out beside her. “I want you to be careful with your credits. Omba sent a man after
us yesterday, trying to figure out where we were staying so he could steal your
credits back.”

She abandoned
her playful pose. “
That
was why you grabbed that man in the alley?”

“He was a
runner, a street thief. Omba is not to be trusted, so, be careful with your
credits. It isn’t wise to flash them around the way we did yesterday, buying
out half of every stall we crossed.”

“It was only a
quarter of every stall,” she murmured. “I’m sorry.”

He smoothed a
hand over her head and cupped her nape. “Don’t be. You deserved a fun day. I
was happy to be able to give it to you.”

Her heart melted
just a little, though she couldn’t resist poking at him. “Those were my credits
making us happy.”

“No,” he said
firmly. “Your credits went into the
Yarinska
. My credits made you
happy.”

She didn’t see
the distinction, but if he insisted, what would it hurt to humor him? He’d been
kind. After everything they’d been through together, it was enough. “Let me
make you happy today. That yarn stall we were at. Did you want to buy some for
somebody back home?”

His hand
tightened around her nape. “I wanted to buy some for you. You seem to like my
sweaters and socks well enough. I hoped to make you some, too, something that
fits better.”

Her eyes
widened. Most men on Tersi didn’t fiddle with handicrafts. Some, yes, but
mostly they strayed toward metal-working or driftwood or, like the master
potter, clay. Very few bothered with fabric crafts. “You made those? Truly?”

“Yes.” He
glanced over his shoulder at the packages and bags piled beside the door. “I
have a measuring string, if you have the patience to wait for me to knit a
garment.”

“Yes, please,
thank you so much!” She pounced on him and pecked kisses across his stunned
face, ending with a firm smooch on his lovely mouth. “I can’t wait to see what
you make me.”

She hopped off
the bed and bounced into the bathroom, humming under her breath, not caring a
wink that she’d just given him a peek at her fully nude body.

It took two more
days for the
Yarinska
’s repairs to be completed. After their one night
at the inn, they spent the rest of their nights shipboard. They’d jettisoned
the Sweepers’ remains before arriving at Lodem, but the aliens’ stench tended
to linger. The crew making the repairs had somehow found a way to rid the
Yarinska
of the smell. Ziri had seemed particularly relieved. She refused to discuss
what had happened on the bridge that day, saying only that she was fine and
repeating her threat to punch him if he ever took her near another Sweeper
again.

It was a threat
he took seriously, and not out of fear of her anger. They’d be traveling along
more frequently used jump points for the rest of their journey. He had no wish
to expose her to the hardship of life on the fringes of civilized space any
more than he had to, and they could train just as easily on Abyw as they could
on the
Yarinska
, maybe more so. Alna would insist on helping, once she
got to know Ziri.

He watched her
now as she haggled with the yarn merchant. During the days, they wandered
through Irix’s streets, visiting the trading zone as often as not. This was
their third visit to this particular stall. Once Ziri had learned of his skill,
she’d insisted on buying enough yarn for an umlek of sweaters, as many pairs of
socks, and at least two shawls. He frowned and counted again. No, three shawls.

If I have to
wear something over my face every time we go out in public, it should be pretty
, she’d said,
her beautiful eyes soft and sweet, and he’d melted under her gentle plea.

At least she’d
understood the necessity of a covering. Part of it was tradition, a custom
handed down for so many generations, its origins had been obscured by the
passage of time. The biggest part, though, was the Pruxnæ’s main occupation.
They were raiders at heart, zipping across the galaxy in search of new worlds
to explore and exploit, though many older men, happy with their stolen wives
and the children they’d fathered, ended up as traders. Still, enough of the
younger men raided for anonymity to be prized. When off-world, the Pruxnæ hid
their identities behind body armor and scarves, as many other cultures did.
Only rarely did the guise fail to work.

Somehow, Ziri
had turned the entire thing into an adventure. Oddly enough, that hadn’t
surprised him at all.

Ryn kept one ear
on her discussion with the yarn merchant, held in a heavily accented Pruxnæ on
the merchant’s part, and both eyes on the surrounding crowd. Omba had sent
another man after them, in spite of the warning Ryn had given the first runner.
You think I’m tough? Wait until my wife gets hold of you
, followed by a
detailed explanation of the things Ziri would do to him, things Ziri had
probably never heard of, let alone ever done. Ryn grinned behind his helmet. That
was one he wouldn’t be repeating in front of her, not for a while, anyway.

The yarn
merchant caught his gaze. She was an older woman, jowly, with a round belly and
graying hair braided and pinned in a circle around her head. “Can’t you do
anything with her? She’s cutting my profits to the bone.”

Ziri glanced
over her shoulder. Her eyes glimmered above the top edge of her scarf.

Ryn shrugged.
“She’s the boss.”

Ziri winked and
faced the merchant. She pointed to a row of deep purple hanks of yarn hanging from
a wooden rod on the far side of the stall. “Four of those, each one for the
same price as this one, and that will do me.”

The merchant
rolled her eyes and threw her hands up. “Thank the gods. I’ll throw in a full
set of wooden needles if you promise not to visit me again this year.”

“Done,” Ryn
said. With an extra set of needles, he could teach Ziri how to knit. It might
help her work through her anger when she realized they weren’t heading toward
Tersi.

Guilt wormed its
way through him. He hadn’t lied to her. They
were
going home, to Abyw,
the place they’d live after the Choosing. Later, he’d bring her back to Tersi
for a visit, but not until she was his.

Was it selfish
of him to want to keep her?

He studied the
relaxed set of her shoulders, the elegant tilt of her head, and firmed his
resolve. Wanting her was many things, crazy and hopeful and tender, and maybe
not the wisest thing a man could do given the way her skills on the mat were
improving, but it wasn’t selfish. He’d waited too long to find a woman like
her, bright and charming and full of life, a woman to ease the loneliness in
his heart and be a true partner, the way Alna and Gared fit together. Letting
Ziri go, knowing he could have that kind of life with her? No, he couldn’t do
that, not when he needed her a little more every day.

And she him, he
hoped.

She bounced
around, her eyes crinkled into a smile, and held up the bag of yarn she’d
haggled for. “That’s it. Thanks for letting me handle it this time.”

“It’s your
place,” he reminded her.

“You keep saying
that. I have no idea what you mean.”

She’d see soon
enough. They’d reach Abyw within a few days. He’d show her his home, the cabin
he’d built with his own hands and the flock of molnog he’d started, and Alna
would teach her the duties of a Pruxnæ woman. Ziri would love it, the dense
forests and the snow-capped mountains and the waters lapping along the
shoreline, and he would love her.

He touched a
hand to her waist and guided her away from the harried merchant. “We’ll be
leaving tonight.”

Her smile
brightened the gleam in her blue-gray eyes. “Could we stop by that inn and get
those icy green drinks again?”

He laughed and
tangled his fingers with hers. “As many as you want.”

And in his mind,
he tacked on the one word he longed to call her.

Wife
.

* * *

That night, Ziri
readied for bed with a light heart. Their time on Lodem had been fun. She stuck
her head out of the bathroom door (no, the head, she reminded herself, since
they were on a ship) and said, “That was my first time on another planet.”

Ryn glanced up
and humor sparkled in his dark eyes. He scrubbed a cloth briskly along the top
of his boot, polishing the scuff marks out of the tough leather. “Did you like
it?”

“I loved it. Can
we stop on another planet on the way home?”

“Of course.” He
set the boot down and picked up the other one, giving it the same careful
treatment. “No more yarn, though, not until we use up what you bought.”

She smiled and
ducked back into the head. “We’ll see.”

“Ziri.”

We only have so
much space
,
she thought, and her smile widened into a grin when he added, “We only have so
much space.”

“But the yarns
on each world are different. You said so yourself.” She washed her hands, dried
them, and stepped across the raised lip of the doorway, grateful for the
hand-knit socks he continued to let her wear. They cushioned her feet from the
Yarinska
’s
cold floor and kept her warm, true, but they were his and that was the
important point. For some odd reason, she enjoyed wearing his clothing.
“Besides, you promised to teach me how to knit. We have to have enough yarn for
both of us, don’t we?”

He set the boot
down, dropped the cloth on top of it, and tugged her into his lap. It was too
familiar of him and she should really make him stop. His arms curved around
her, one behind her back, the other along her thigh, and she sighed. On the
other hand, he was warm and comfortable, and there was no harm in simply
holding him, was there?

And after
everything they’d been through, the Sweepers and his injuries and sleeping
together every night, it seemed silly to object, especially to the sleeping
together part. She was beginning to enjoy it for more than shared warmth. Now
that he was taking her home, surely it was ok to admire his maleness just a
little and take advantage when he was so willing to share it with her. No sex.
Of course not. They weren’t handfasted and living on separate planets would
make that arrangement difficult anyway, but she didn’t see a thing wrong with
cuddling as long as he kept his hands to himself.

Mostly.

He rubbed his
chin across the top of her head, a habit he’d developed over the past few days.
“We have enough yarn to keep both of us occupied for a full season. Where will
we put more?”

“In my room.
There’s still a little space there.” Not a lot, but some. Ryn had encouraged
her to purchase warmer clothing and it had taken up a lot of the remaining
storage there. Why she’d need it was beyond her. Tersi was too warm for most of
the items he’d picked out for her. “How much longer until we reach Tersi?”

He tensed. “A
while. We’re stopping by Abyw first.”

“Your planet? Is
it on the way?”

“It’s closer. We
have some business there.”

“And then we can
go to Tersi?” At his short nod, she relaxed and rested her head on his
shoulder. “I’d like to see your world. I’d like to see
every
world.
That’s kind of a funny thing for Tersii. We’re not really known for wanting to
leave our homes.” And she’d been content there. She yawned and closed her eyes.
Now, she was content roaming the galaxy with Ryn, at least until he took her
back home. “I really want to let my family know I’m ok. They must be worried
about me.”

“Soon,” he
murmured. “You’ve been patient there.”

“I’ve been too
excited to worry a lot. To think, I might’ve missed all this if you hadn’t
kidnapped me.” She snuggled into him, enjoying the feel of his smooth skin beneath
her cheek. “Not that you were right to do that and I’m still not happy you
stole me, by the way, and my door. Somebody’s going to fix that, but everything
else, learning about your ship and visiting Irix and learning how to knit.” She
yawned. His hand circled slowly along her hip, the motion so soothing, it was
sending her right into sleep. “You didn’t really steal me for a wife the way
Advocate N’du said, did you?”

His hand
stilled. “What would you think if I said yes?”

“I’d think you were
crazy, but it’s ok. I kind of like you anyway. Wait.” She tilted her head and
caught his gaze. “We’re not already joined in some weird Pruxnæ custom I don’t
know about, are we?”

One corner of
his mouth tilted up. “Not yet.”

“There’s no yet
here, Ryn, and no more kidnapping either. Promise me.”

“Of course.”

“You gave in too
easily.”

“I don’t need to
kidnap anybody else,” he said simply.

“How did you
kidnap me, anyway? Tersi’s planetary defenses are pretty good.”

His arms tightened
around her. “You can’t have all my secrets. Ready for bed?”

“Mmm, yes. Can I
fly the ship tomorrow?”

“You can.” He kissed
her forehead. “For somebody who’s so eager to get home, you seem to like space
a lot.”

“I really do,”
she marveled. Even the Sweeper attack hadn’t dimmed her pleasure in it, now
that she’d found her place on the
Yarinska
. She was learning to pilot
the ship, and Ryn let her tinker wherever she wanted to and she had her plants,
though she still couldn’t read the seed packages. Different autolearner, Ryn
had explained, and Ziri had let that one pass. No more autolearners for her. “It’s
not that I didn’t like Tersi. I did. It was my home and I knew everybody and my
parents are there and I really want to go back, but this, being able to visit
all these worlds instead of just reading about them. It’s fantastic. I didn’t
even know about Lodem until you brought me here.”

“Wait until you
see Abyw. Endless blue skies, water everywhere. The mountains make the ones on
Tersi look tame, and there’s snow where we live, half the year ‘round at least.”

“A winter
world,” she murmured. Now she knew why he’d insisted on warmer clothing. “Tell
me a story, Ryn, about growing up there. Tell me about the snow.”

He tucked her
under the covers, dimmed the lights, and curved his body around hers in the bed,
and for a long time after, his low voice related tale after tale of his
childhood among the snowy forests of his home.