by Lauren Dane
“It was all for nothing! She was a good woman. Kind. If I hadn’t done this, she’d be alive right now.”
“Carina, stop this.” He put his face right in hers. “This is not yours to own. She helped us for her own reasons. She did not die for nothing. She died for everything. Everything. Do you see the difference?”
“What reasons? What do you know?”
“Seems she had a secret romance with one of the young men in town. She was barely of age to romance anyone, but he tells me she was the great love of his life. They had to keep their relationship quiet because he was from a merchant family and she a servant. He disappeared, along with his entire family. He ended up on our side, but not before enduring four standard years of daily torture and abuse. His mother died on the transport to Silesia, where your father has his prisoners processed. The camp he was in does not exist anymore. He runs a dry goods store in Sanctu.”
Her eyes were wide, and she’d ceased trying to pull away. “She never told me. All those years she ferried information to you all, and she never once told me about this boy.”
“She could have left. We offered her the chance on several occasions. He wanted her to join him. But she told him she had to stay to make a difference. To bring your father’s regime down so he’d stop ripping families apart. She knew the risks. She was a brave woman, Carina. Don’t diminish what she did with your guilt. She chose her path, and she walked it with dignity.”
Without meaning to, he kissed her forehead again before stepping back. Her taste was on his lips, damn it. He knew her now, and he couldn’t wash away the sadness and salt from his mouth.
“I’m making toasted bread, and the water is boiling for tea. Let’s break our fast and toast the very fine and brave Claira.”
She nodded, still looking pale and lost. “Yes, yes, that’s a good idea.”
He wanted to make it better. She wasn’t hard like him, couldn’t be expected to find a way to deal with heartbreak like this.
Woodenly, she stood. “Let me help. I saw some preserves. Those will be good with the bread.”
He made the tea and managed to rustle up some grains and salted meat to go with the meal.
Carina’s head hurt. She wanted to cry but knew she’d totally lose control if she did. But she wanted him to know, at least part of it. What she’d grown up with had bent her thinking in ways she would probably never comprehend.
“People disappear. A lot.”
Startled, he looked up from where he’d been frying the meat. “In your life? How do you mean?”
“Here. In the Imperium and in my family. It’s always there in me. The expectation that one day I’ll hear someone else I know or love has simply gone. It’s happened to me so many times it’s just something I’ve accepted.”
She swallowed several gulps of the sweetened tea, letting it warm her.
Dividing the bread between their plates, she got out utensils, and he brought the meat over. There had been some jarred fruit, and the simple food was what she needed.
“I’ve prepared myself for this moment. When I heard Claira was dead or had disappeared. I always think that preparing myself will make it hurt less, but it never does. And she’s so much more than I gave her credit for. I feel small for that. I never imagined she’d had this boy she’d loved and lost. I . . .” She raised her shoulders. “I don’t know what to feel. It’s nothing good in any case.”
“I imagine it will take you time to adjust. You’ve lived a certain way your entire life, Carina. You can’t just suddenly not be who you’ve been bred to be. There’s no shame in that. How could there be?”
“I’m frightened that the next news I hear will be about my mother.” She blurted it out, needing to say it out loud.
He covered her hand with his own. “I know. I’m sorry. I hope very much that we don’t.”
He didn’t promise anything. He couldn’t have. The entire thing was utterly out of their control. But he listened to her, and it made her drunk with emotion. It was invigorating to have this interplay with him. This getting to know him. The ease with which she got used to him, wanted his presence. Felt safe with him.
At the same time, they were in danger, and she’d just heard terrible news. It rolled around inside her. He held her hand.
“Your hands are cold. Here.” He scooted over until he was next to her. Taking her hands in his, he bent his head and cupped her hands with his own, blowing warm breath over her skin.
She was utterly comforted and wildly charmed. Confused, but enjoying it, even as everything else got more dire.
“Do you know how to play cards?” he asked, as if he sensed she needed the diversion.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re an expert at games of chance?” She raised her mug. “To Claira.”
They both sipped.
“I promise not to bet you any money.” He smiled at her, and she realized he’d opened up to her, that they’d reached a new level of comfort.
“This is a good thing, as I have none.”
“Good point.”
Daniel returned from the comm array and caught sight of her as she brushed her hair. Stroke after stroke, it gleamed in the low light of the room. When they got up and left for the portal, she’d appear different, but for that moment, he simply stared.
She looked up, and their gazes locked. The power of that connection with her hit him straight to his toes, as it did each time they looked at each other. Humbling, to think he could be so affected when he’d considered himself unshakable on an op.
He broke eye contact and moved toward the bathing alcove to change.
“Looks like we’re a go. We’ll head out in four standard hours. There’ll be a conveyance waiting where we got dropped off. It’ll be full moonrise then, so we should have plenty of natural light to travel in.”
He spoke to her from around the corner and came into the room after he’d changed his clothes. “I’m going to propose we sleep for the next three hours. It’s going to be a long trip, and we should be as rested as possible.”
She’d changed her clothes, too, and had burrowed beneath the bedding. The room had gotten steadily cooler, so he didn’t waste any time making one last security check and getting in bed himself.
“Daniel?”
“Go to sleep, Carina.” The last thing he wanted was to get back into some intimate discussion with her so temptingly close and warm. He’d folded up blankets to fit between them, but she was still very near, near enough to smell her.
At her annoyed snort, he let himself fall into sleep.
“Daniel.” She poked him. “Wake up.”
“Why?” he mumbled.
“Three hours are up.”
“No. I had another short dream. I had time left.” He rolled to sit up, and the cold air got under the blankets.
“I don’t think so. Maybe time moves differently in your ’Verse. But here we use chronos. Mine says our three hours have passed.”
He got out of bed, grabbing his pants and pulling them on.
“And even if you did have a short time left, you needn’t be so cross.”
“I have a very good internal chrono.” He went to wash his face and noted his skin had gone very pale and his hair very dark. After the pills kicked in, his eyes had gone from green to brown. He added a scar on his neck, leading up to his ear.
She barged around the corner to continue pestering him. “You’re a pain in the—” Her eyes widened. “You’re very good at this disguise part of the job. I should cut my hair, don’t you think?”
His gut cramped at the thought. “It’s very beautiful,” he said before he could say something sane and professional. “I mean, you’d still be beautiful with short hair and—”
She put two fingers over his lips and froze, before moving her hand away. Then she pressed her mouth to his. He hadn’t expected it, but he couldn’t step away either.
Her lips were sweet, sweet as the kiss was. A soft exploration of his mouth with hers. At first.
It wasn’t so much innocent as it was unexpected. It snared him, much like her taste had. She was warm against him, relaxed, obviously trusting him more than any rational woman should have. His blood surged with need for her, with want, demand for more.
He fisted his hands to keep from hauling her against him, from stroking the elegant curve of her spine down to her ass. A groan bubbled from deep within his gut at the memory of the fantasy he’d had the day before. She sighed, taking it into herself.
It was when she stepped closer, her fingers digging into the front of his shirt, molding herself to his body and her tongue sliding into his mouth, that he finally found his sanity about a meter from where all the blood in his body had gathered.
“Seven hells,” he gusted as he set her back from him, holding her upper arms firmly. “That can’t happen again.” Her mouth called to him, those luscious lips just so slightly swollen.
“Why?” She licked her lips, and he groaned.
“Stop that. Carina, this is a bad idea.”
A smile played on her lips as she realized the extent of her power. Gods, he was in trouble now.
“Why? Really? You kissed me back. You’re attracted to me. I can see it. I can taste it.” She pressed fingers to her lips, and he struggled to breathe.
“You’re my cargo. You have something that could save the lives of millions. You’re . . . I bet you’re untouched, aren’t you?” He forged on without an answer. “I’m not. I’m not a nice man. I kill people. All the time. You need a nice man. A gentle man who can give you the life you were bred for.”
She waved a hand as she turned. He took advantage of her distraction and headed back out toward the main room.
“Where are you going? I need your help with my hair,” she called out.
“Tell me when to come back there.” He scrubbed his hands through his hair, standing it on end.
“Now. Gods, did your mother drop you on your head a lot as a child?”
“You’re pretty mouthy,” he mumbled as he headed around the corner and found her in little more than sheer underclothes. “Hey!” He turned his back. “You’re naked. I said when you were ready.”
“You’ll get hair in my clothes and it will itch. Cut it short.” She handed him shears as he turned back around and tried in vain not to look at the shadow of dark pink nipples against the pale material.
“Are you sure about this?” He sifted fingers through it, so long and soft. Beautiful and feminine. “If you braid it, you can tuck it into a watch cap, and no one will know the difference. Women of all ranks have long hair. You don’t have to cut it.”
She turned, so close she brushed against him. “Women of all classes have short hair, too. Do you like it?” Tossing her head, pale burnt-sugar hair tumbled around her shoulders.
The scent of her choked him in the best kind of way. This chemistry between them was so very delicious, even if he knew anything else between them was totally impossible.
“It’s lovely. It’s up to you.” He tried to step back, but he was boxed in, and she knew it.
“I am a virgin, you know. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have desires.” She leaned in, brushing her cheek against his chest. His cock ached, the pulse as he got harder and harder was an angry throb. “I do. Have desires, that is. I’ve never had the opportunity to express them and certainly not with anyone like you. There’s no one quite like you, Daniel.”
“You’d do well to remember that, Carina.” He pointed to the stuff he’d left on a ledge near the basin. “You’re my sister again. We’ll call you Carrie, and I am Neil. We’re itinerant workers, looking to get on with the grain shipments. Do you know anything about wheat? It’s a crop brought from Earth, and I know it’s grown out here. We’re from Suerte.”
He managed to step neatly away once she’d turned to look. “I always wanted blue eyes.” She began to plait her hair into two long braids as she spoke. “I’ll keep it long for now. And I’m very well aware that there’s no one like you. This isn’t over.”
She wanted to laugh when he scurried from the room. An altogether new sort of power surged through her veins. Her allure as a woman wasn’t new, not really. But this sort of romantic chase, the sensual dance they did as he pretended to resist her, was something she’d never imagined, and it was thrilling.
If she had to risk her life, leave her family behind and hare off into new territory with a man like him, she planned to enjoy every moment of it.
Chapter 9
Four days after they’d finally left Philos safely, they were no closer to Federation territory. He’d had to put them on super-slow and off the basic path transports, crisscrossing back and forth to keep from attracting too much attention. It was tedious progress; he itched to get her back, to be assured she was safe. He had to run like hells before he did something monumentally stupid like fucking her.
Carina Fardelle and her big, sexy eyes, her constant questions and the way she was strong and so fragile all at once. She’d relentlessly thrust herself into his space whenever she could. He realized she’d begun to understand her effect on him, but there were times when she charmed him. Some little thing she’d do or say would leave him disarmed and pleased all at once.
She looked beautiful. Even as she was supposed to be some riffraff, ranging around looking for work, she looked gorgeous doing it. Damn it. She’d trimmed her hair this time. But whatever she’d done had left it curly instead of straight. It took all his strength not to touch it.
Instead, he worked on keeping his gaze sharp for their contacts and pretended she didn’t make him want to stop and sniff her like a lovesick fool. That level of concentration kept his mind actively engaged on keeping them out of trouble and not on the way she’d brushed against him earlier that morning, trying to tiptoe up and kiss him. And especially not thinking about how close he came to letting her.
He bit back a groan and redoubled his efforts to be on the lookout for trouble.
They’d arrived in Frontera and had easily made it through the checkpoint. They’d heard a rumor that the troops had been diverted to another transport that was set to arrive shortly after theirs had. He hoped that luck would continue to be with them.
Rife with thugs, the criminal element of the portal city in Frontera had been the reason many transports refused to stop for fear of losing cargo. Since his cargo was feminine, on the run from a monster and beautiful, he would have to kill anyone who thought of stealing her.
“You need to stick closer to me,” he said but realized he’d sort of growled it. Infuriatingly, she turned and smiled his way, that knowing feminine smile, and he wondered where she’d gotten that from. Did virgins have that look yet? He made a mistake with her, he realized, in making an incorrect assumption that having her maidenhead in place meant she was naïve about sex. She was not. He needed to remember that.
Better yet, he didn’t need to remember it at all. He didn’t need to think about it in any way.
She’d begun to lose some of her fear, growing bolder in many ways. She settled into herself in some way, taking up being Carina with a sort of wholehearted enthusiasm. Though annoying at times, she was generally a pleasure to be around, even when he didn’t need to be thinking about any of this at all.
“I’m within reach, Neil. You know I’m always happy to have you touch me.” She broke into his thoughts. “Where is our conveyance?” She put her hand through his arm. Instead of telling everyone she was his sister as instructed, she’d told people they were married and had taken every opportunity to touch him and act like a wife.
In short, he was nearly insane with wanting her, and she had no intention of letting him forget it. His mother had a word for what Carina was becoming with him—saucy.
“Don’t start with me, woman.” He tried to be light with her, but something wasn’t right. He didn’t like the feel of the streets here. He felt far too exposed and wanted to get her away and safe. “Perhaps we should get back to the guesthouse. I can come out later to see if t
hey’ve arrived.” He steered her away from a group of undesirables who’d just materialized and most likely were the source of his agitation. He sent them a look over his shoulder as he escorted her back around the edge of the marketplace and toward the guesthouse they were staying in.
“It’s getting rather warm out here anyway.” She continued to hold his arm as they walked, and he continued to like it, even though he knew how stupid it was when he could not have her.
He tensed up, keeping a watch on three men who’d walked from an alleyway just ahead. The group he’d avoided a few streets over. Four more appeared, followed by one last man, and they all headed straight for them. Sound died away as the street emptied. At least he could get rid of some of his pent-up energy with a fight. Daniel felt a moment of pity for these probably illiterate morons who chose the wrong mark.
“They’re coming for us,” she murmured.
“Stay behind me. Use that weapon if you have to; don’t you dare hesitate.” He stepped ahead, putting her behind him.
“Looks like you two are a bit heavy with gear.” A mouth filled with few teeth made an ugly gash of delight on the thug’s face.
Daniel knew the look in the man’s eyes, knew they meant to rob him and harm Carina. Neither would be allowed.
He rolled his head on his shoulders, steadying for what was to come. “You should heed my warning and keep moving. You’re not going to be pleased with the outcome if you bring a fight my way.” Daniel didn’t speak very loudly, but the one in charge heard just fine. Whether or not he took the warning was something else entirely.
The snick and gleam of a blade triggered Daniel’s sense of calm. His body relaxed as he focused. White noise rushed through his ears as a blade handle fit into his palm.
“Look here, boys, he thinks he can take us all on.”
Daniel sighed and began to move. Nothing he did when he fought ever took conscious thought; his body, his reflexes simply took over and did the job. A step forward, a lunge with one arm and a step back.