She felt alive and free. For once, she didn’t worry about trading, or balancing Perma’s moral and environmental health or working late into the night.
“This is crazy.” Savan stood and scooped Brinn into his arms.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. She’d never spent much time on men and relationships. She gave all her energy to her work. And this particular man left her feeling like she couldn’t quite get a handle on things—on him, on her feelings, on what this crazy interlude might mean for them.
But there was something so delicious about being held in the arms of a strong man. One you knew would shelter you from any storm. Snow still clung to his shoulders and she dusted it off. “We’re headed back to the warm.” He walked inside.
A dip in the snow might be invigorating, but it was nice to be back by the warmth of the fire. But Savan didn’t stop at their bed in front of the flames. He continued to the large window overlooking the lake.
“What are you doing?”
“I love watching the moonslight on your skin.” He set her down and ran one hand over her shoulder, cupping the rounded joint with his palm. “It makes you glow. Like some sort of winter goddess.”
Warmth threaded through her. Who would have guessed Savan Bardan was a poet?
When his hand slid down and cupped her breast, pleasure shot through her. He flicked a finger over her nipple. It was already hard and sensitive.
Then he dipped his head and sucked her nipple into his mouth. She moaned. He circled an arm around her back and she let her head drop back, her breasts pushed up to his clever mouth.
“Beautiful.” His words were a murmur against her skin. He swapped to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention.
Desire was instant and urgent. She’d thought their previous lovemaking would have taken the edge off. But her need grew every time this man touched her.
“Savan.” Fria, was that breathy, needy voice hers? “Please.”
He spun her around and pressed her hands to the glass-like ice of the window. It was cool under her palms.
“I want you right here. I want to watch you in the moonslight while I make love to you.”
“Yes.” She arched her back, looking at him over her shoulder.
He stroked a hand down her spine and the look in his eyes undid her. Wonder, reverence, like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It amazed her that a man who’d traveled the breadth of the galaxy, seen, bought and traded the most exotic commodities, thought she was beyond compare.
He palmed her buttocks, then gripped her hips. In one hard thrust he was seated inside her.
She clamped down on her lip. He felt bigger this way. He pulled out, slow and steady. Tormenting them both. Then he surged back in until she felt his hair-roughened thighs rub against the backs of her legs.
As everything in her body reached for release, she stared blindly out the window, watching the glint of the ice lake. Savan’s steady rhythm increased, and he leaned over her, his warm breath on her ear. His breathing was harsh and raw, and soon hers matched it.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” He nipped at her ear, never once slowing his hard thrusts. A hand snaked down her belly, leaving a trail of hot sensation. Then he was rubbing her clit.
It didn’t take long. Under the dual sensations of his caresses, she exploded apart in a wild rush. He followed seconds later, holding himself deep inside her, his big body shaking through his orgasm.
Brinn fought not to collapse. The night’s events caught up with her. Her ragged breath puffed against the window.
His arm tightened on her, pulling her close to him and spinning her to face him. He searched her face. “Brinn, I...”
She waited for him to continue, mesmerized by what she saw swirling in his eyes. But he broke the connection, looking over her shoulder to the window. Then he sighed.
A heavy feeling lined her stomach. What was there for him to say? This moment between them—no matter that it was as hot as the fusion crystals that brought him to Perma—was temporary. She knew that.
He would head back to Rendar and fulfill his goal of becoming head negotiator.
She loved Perma. She loved her people, her work and her family. She would always be focused on her world’s prosperity.
There was no way they could spend more than a few stolen moments together. Better that this—whatever this was—end here. Where it would always be magical in her memory. Better that it stay special than that they erode their connection with the bitter edge of absence and resentment.
She leaned into him and pressed her lips to his chest. She breathed in his ocean-storm smell, mingled with the musky scent of their loving. She had the rest of the night to savor him, to store away memories of a man she’d never imagined existed under the solitary, silent exterior of the galaxy’s toughest trade negotiator.
“We need to get some rest.” He rubbed his jaw against the top of her head. “As much as I’d like to spend the remainder of the night exploring every exquisite part of you, we need to be out of here at first light.”
She gripped him tighter. The specter of the assassination attempts swirled around them like smoke. They needed rest for the hike ahead of them. “Let’s get some sleep.”
“Agreed.” He nudged her back toward the fire.
She sat on the blankets and lay back.
He groaned, his gaze running over her. “You’re not going to let me sleep, are you?”
She smiled. “Maybe.” She really didn’t want to waste any minute with him sleeping. She stretched one arm above her head and watched his gaze arrow to her breasts. “Maybe not.”
Chapter Eight
Brinn watched Savan extinguish the fire. All that was left was ashes.
A quiet ache washed over her. Their stolen night was over.
Soon the weak Perman sun would rise above the horizon and they’d leave.
“Here.” He dropped a silver packet in her lap.
“I hate emergency rations.” But she knew they needed the fuel. She tore the packet open and watched him open his own. He downed the contents. She ate a bit of the cloned gel-like substance. Grimaced. “How do Rendarians survive on cloned food? It’s vile.”
“Most don’t know any different. Some even prefer it now.”
She shuddered. “For a race dedicated to pleasure, they miss out on a great deal.”
“More than you know.” His gaze traced her face. “I’m sure your mother will save you some Yule ham.”
“She’d better.” But somehow the idea of enjoying her Yule feast while Savan was jetting back to Rendar didn’t bring her any joy.
Savan moved around, collecting items they might need, dividing them between his backpack and the emergency pack. She’d carry his smaller, lighter pack. She knew she was seeing the man honed during the wars. The commander, the soldier, the survivor.
His face was once again stark with its lack of expression. Only his eyes showed his intense focus on the upcoming journey.
Her passionate lover was gone.
She needed to focus, as well. They needed to survive the cold and snow. And anyone who might still be out to kill them.
She shrugged into her winter coat. Winced. It was still damp along the seams.
“Here.” He thrust something into her hand. “I found this in the kitchen drawers.”
Her fingers curled around the small sonic blade. “What’s this for?”
“Protection.”
He didn’t elaborate and she didn’t want him to. She prayed to Odinn and Fria that the most dangerous thing they faced this morning was knee-deep snow.
Savan gripped the lapels of her coat, pulling her close. “We head down the mountain, hit the highway and flag down some help. We’ll call the authoriti
es as soon as we can. If we run into trouble, no heroics. You run. Fast as you can.”
How had she ever thought this man arrogant and selfish? “We stick together. Whatever happens.”
He dragged her closer, until their noses touched. “Brinn.”
“I’m not one of your soldiers to order around.”
Air whistled through his teeth. “I haven’t been a commander for a long time.”
“Hasn’t stopped you from giving orders.”
He kissed her. A brief touch of lips, but it conveyed so much. “You just stay safe. I don’t—”
A clatter of metal rang out from the warehouse.
They froze. Listening. The scrape of shoes on ice.
Brinn felt the color drain from her face. Savan’s jaw clenched.
“We need to go.” His words were a near-silent whisper. “Now.” He shoved the backpack at her and slung the emergency pack on his own back.
He tugged her against the wall. At the doorway, he searched the warehouse with a quick glance. He pulled back, yanking his laser blade out of his pocket.
With shaking hands, Brinn got her own knife out. She wasn’t sure how she felt about plunging it into a living thing. But if it came down to her or Savan’s life versus an unknown assassin, she figured she’d find the courage she needed.
With a brief nod, Savan slipped into the warehouse and headed left. Away from the noise.
She followed him, hoping no one could hear the thundering of her heart.
Odinn’s fury, what if their stalker had audio or thermo sights on their weapons? They’d pick up the slightest noise or body heat.
Savan’s hand gripped hers, gave a squeeze. She looked up into his now-familiar green eyes. His calm steadied her. She gave him a nod and his hand dropped away.
They stayed behind crates and racks when they could. She realized they weren’t going out the door they’d used to come in, but the side door leading to the lake.
He moved with such grace. Like the snowpard cats that hunted in the mountain foothills. His sure, steady moves calmed the fear threatening to bubble over inside her.
There was a crash of something behind her.
Brinn couldn’t stop her small cry. Savan gripped her arm as she turned to look over her shoulder.
A figure dressed entirely in white leaped onto a long workbench in a crouch.
The man balanced there, one hand gripping the edge. Through the slit in the head covering, she saw eyes of the blackest winter night.
She had no doubt he was there to kill them.
“Run.” Savan didn’t wait for her to respond, just yanked her forward.
They sprinted through the door and into the snow. The sun had risen, shining down on the pure white landscape. The mountain peaks looked like a row of spiked teeth looming above them.
Running in the thigh-deep snow was like trying to swim through her mother’s thickest stew. Brinn’s lungs labored as she fought her way forward.
Savan looked over his shoulder and cursed. She didn’t need her lingual implant to tell her it was bad.
Still surging forward, she too looked back. The bottom dropped from her stomach.
The man in white was walking on top of the snow, his arms and legs sawing in a graceful motion.
The bastard had snow skates.
And he was leveling a weapon at them.
“Faster,” Savan urged.
She tried, but the snow was getting deeper. A line of orange fire streaked beside them. Whatever the weapon fired evaporated the snow, turning it to steam.
With a scream, Brinn pitched forward and was buried neck-deep.
Savan yanked her up and continued on. Relentlessly. His fingers bit deep into her arm. His face was icier than the surroundings.
“Savan.” She heard the helplessness in her voice.
There was no escape.
Ahead was more deep snow. To their right was the webbed surface of the lake, the ice not thick enough to take their weight.
And behind them lay death.
Suddenly Savan pulled her to the right. Her heart stopped. Toward the lake.
“No.” She struggled against him. “We can fight him. The lake will kill us for sure.”
“Two blades are no match for a thermal carbine.”
Nausea rolled through her, filling her throat with acidic bile. Memories of cold, cold water filling her lungs wrapped around her like plasma wire. “I c-can’t.”
“We take our chances on the lake. Or die.” He stepped out onto the ice.
* * *
Savan saw fear etched deep on Brinn’s face. She looked over her shoulder at the nearing assassin and then back to the ice.
“I almost drowned in a lake.” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “I was caught under the ice.”
“You want to see your family again?” He kept his voice hard, harsh. He wanted to coddle her, protect her from her fear. But he wanted her to live more. “Find your courage, Brinn.”
He held out a hand.
Determination. He saw it as she set her jaw.
She stepped onto the ice and gripped his hand.
“Good girl.” He tugged her behind him.
He let the familiar battle calm fall over him. It had been ten stellar years since he’d last been in a life-and-death situation, but he’d kept his focus honed every day in his negotiations.
He could block out the distractions—the assassin closing in, Brinn’s too-fast breathing, the creaking ice under his feet—and focus on survival.
Beneath them, the ice cracked and groaned. Brinn gripped his fingers in an iron-hard grasp.
He kept his gaze trained on the ice, searching out the sturdier sections that would hold their weight. He didn’t let conscious thought take over—that would slow him too much—instead he trusted his instincts.
He’d never traversed a frozen lake before, but during the war he’d had to cross the lava lakes of Kebira to escape an advancing battalion. The crusted-over lava wasn’t that different from ice.
Only this time, if he failed, he’d freeze to death instead of fry.
Another spray of carbine fire hit the ice to their right.
Brinn gasped. He steadied her and watched the thicker ice to their right break up under the heat.
A full blast of the thermal power of the assassin’s carbine would kill them in an instant. How the hell had a professional assassin missed?
Savan didn’t have time to wonder. He looked around them. Ahead, the ice was thinner. But options were limited.
He tugged her onward.
“Savan, no!” She jerked on his arm. “It’s too thin. Do you know how cold the water is? We’ll freeze in seconds.”
“Better than burning to death.” He shot her a quick glance. “You can do this. You survived a crash and an avalanche. Don’t let some ice beat you.”
Her chin lifted. She nodded.
They moved out over the thin ice. It creaked and popped under their weight. Cracks split away from them.
“Keep moving!” he shouted.
But the ice was breaking up faster than they could run on the slick surface. Ahead, a wide gap of icy-cold water blocked their way.
“We have to jump,” he said.
“By Fria and Odinn—”
He let go of her hand and leaped across the opening. He landed in a crouch on the other side, the ice rocking beneath him. Looking back, he waved her on.
She stood for a second, her red coat standing out against the bright white landscape. He knew she was afraid, the nightmare of her childhood rising to choke her.
Behind her, the assassin was barely discernible against the surroundings. The ice had slowed him down, clearly not an environment he was used to dealing with. He moved
with stealth and caution.
But he was closing in.
“Brinn, now!”
She bunched her muscles, took two steps and leaped into the air.
Shit, she wasn’t going to make it.
A lump lodged in his throat. He watched her arms and leg pinwheel as she tried to propel herself forward.
Come on, come on. He moved to the very edge of the ice. It dipped under his weight, freezing water lapping at his boots.
He held his arms out. Prayed she’d reach him.
She hit, one leg splashing in the water before her body slammed into him.
They skidded backward from the edge. Savan’s heart was drumming on his ribs. Brinn gripped him, her fingers digging for purchase.
“You made it.” He pressed a fast kiss to her hair. “Now, let’s go.”
They were up and running as fast as the ice allowed.
One quick look and he saw the assassin pacing on the far side of the break in the ice. It had widened. No longer possible to jump without aid.
Savan tossed the man a quick salute.
In return, the man aimed a small boxlike device.
Savan only had time to frown before searing heat scorched across his skin. Brinn screamed. Both of them dropped to their knees.
The pain was excruciating. Like being fried alive in a fusion reactor.
He expected to see his skin bubbling, burning off. But as he stared at his hands, it looked normal.
It was an electromagnetic weapon. One most often used to cause discomfort and deter oncoming enemy soldiers.
But it wouldn’t kill. For some reason, the bastard wanted them alive.
The red-hot pain intensified. If they could get out of range, the pain would stop.
Savan couldn’t summon any words. He gripped Brinn’s collar and surged to his feet.
He dragged her across the ice, forcing himself through the pain. One step, another. He kept going until he stumbled off the ice and into the snow.
The pain stopped.
Brinn collapsed into the powder, her breath sawing in and out of her lungs. Savan looked back across the lake.
The assassin was gone.
A Galactic Holiday Page 26