by Calista Fox
“Tell me what it is,” she said, her voice compelling as it filled the quiet room. “Tell me who you are, D.T. Really.”
Chapter Five
He seriously wanted to end this conversation. She was digging too deep. Going too far. Making him think about a life he’d left behind, one he didn’t intend to remember, let alone rejuvenate.
Yet, as Gizelle stood before him, looking so amazingly beautiful and sensual following the multiple orgasms he’d given her, her green eyes glowing in the moonlight that filtered in through the open windows, he knew he couldn’t lie to her.
But damn it! To tell her the truth….
Finally.
After all this time.
Would it make a difference? Would it even matter to her? Or would she simply rebuff him, angered anew by the fact that his current mission wasn’t the one she wanted it to be?
D.T. swore under his breath. He’d have taken another swig of Scotch if she hadn’t swiped his glass. But he suspected, after their previous discussions, she likely needed the fortification as much as he did.
Propping his hip against the edge of the desk, D.T. crossed his arms over his chest. “You may find this difficult to believe, but I do care about the war. The outcome, in particular. I want us to prevail, make no mistake about it, Gizelle.”
She set the empty glass beside him. “You have a funny way of showing it, D.T. Wanting me to quit blockade running. Spending all your time on this planet.” He could tell she had something disparaging to say about PX330, and he didn’t blame her. He could at least understand that it seemed decadent and frivolous for him to reside here.
But damn it! It was also extremely advantageous as he gathered intel for the Protective Forces. He was a spy, for Christ’s sake!
His belief in The Cause—freedom and everything it took to fight for it—was something that lived and breathed in his heart and soul. The need for victory flowed through his veins the way it did every other warrior in the galaxy. D.T. had fought for the Milky Way’s freedom since he was sixteen years old. He continued to fight for it today.
Not that Gizelle or many others would know that. For D.T. was working a covert intelligence mission that gave the illusion of his disinterest in the war in his home galaxy. But really, he played a pretty damned active role in combating the invading force.
In all honesty, the currency he could score from the gold bars he’d recovered today would help his plight exponentially. But he knew Gizelle needed the resources more than he did, for D.T. had other streams of revenue to tap into in order to help him secure the information needed by the Protective Forces to continue to fight their enemy. Including his own vast fortune. He wasn’t above dipping into his private stash of gold to make things happen when all other means of persuasion failed.
Though he did have a pretty damn good system in place as it was. The life forms from M81—home to the invading force—might be droids, but they still had some basic needs. The Pleasure Providers on PX330 offered services that satiated those desires. And like other planetary forms, human, alien or droid, the Gyllians tended to say the damnedest things in the throes of passion. D.T. and the leaders of the Protective Forces benefitted greatly from the information the Pleasure Providers gleaned while sharing the evening with a fighter from M81.
Would Gizelle ever understand his role?
Would he even try to help her understand?
The thought lodged itself in his brain. Was he as much to blame for their current dysfunctionality as she was?
Yes.
Letting out a low groan, he turned away and started pacing again. There was a reason he didn’t tell Gizelle everything. Even though it just might make her see him in a different light. A better light. Even though it might lead to a partnership between them that had the potential to keep her safe.
He’d held all of his secrets close for so long for one reason. Because he couldn’t begin to fathom rehashing the past. Calling forth all the memories he’d locked away, for purposes of maintaining his sanity. What D.T. had gone through since the age of sixteen, as he’d fought the invading force and moved up quickly in the ranks, was something he didn’t want to relive. Not even for Gizelle.
Yet, when she moved toward him, he felt his resolve weaken. On her beautiful face was a compelling look along with confusion and the obvious need to understand him, connect with him. “D.T.”
And he knew he was about to lose this battle.
“Why are you here? Why do you prefer this planet to ours?” Her voice was soft, reminding him of the intimacy they’d shared. They’d once bonded together physically despite their differences, but D.T. had never been as open and honest with her as he should have been. With his physical needs, yes. He’d never held back his passion for her, his desire. Even emotionally, he was willing to give her everything she needed to understand his depth of emotion and his true feelings for her.
Yet when it came to telling her who he really was, D.T. had never gone that far. Had never allowed himself to wallow in the past in order to bridge that one last gap with her.
Shaking his head as the dread crept up on him, and the memories he’d successfully kept at bay for the past four years encroached on his mind, he knew his time had come. But D.T. still struggled with telling her what she obviously needed to know.
When her hand reached out to him and her fingers curled around his forearm, he stopped pacing. Stopped running.
“There’s something I’m supposed to know about you,” she said in a soft voice. “What is it?”
D.T.’s jaw work vigorously. But he chose not to turn away. “I support the war, Gizelle. I believe in The Cause. I do what I can for it.”
And that’s when everything seemed to click into place for her. He could see the sudden shift in her as a look of surprise and excitement lit her eyes, and her fingers tightened around his arm.
“Oh, my God,” she said in a breathless tone. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.” She shook her head as though in amazement. “General Dylan Tanner. D.T. That’s you, isn’t it?”
What could he say to that?
Nope, not me. You’ve got the wrong guy, sweetheart.
Gizelle would see right through him. And maybe he wanted her to.
Shoving a hand through his hair, he shook his head and let out a short laugh. One that sounded like a man who’d just been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar and didn’t mind it. Which really confused him. But he said to Gizelle, “Don’t get all patriotic on me, sweetheart. I’m as dedicated as they come. You can’t top me.” He shook his head again. “But I’m far beyond capable of leading fighter brigades. It’s not a part of me anymore.”
She opened her mouth to protest. The excitement in her eyes making them wide and vibrant.
But he cut her off instantly. “No, Gizelle. I’m not going back. And I meant what I said earlier. There’s not enough gold or currency in all of space to change my mind.”
He moved past her, cutting off the connection of her hand on his arm. Stalking back to his desk, he refilled his glass. But he didn’t drink. Instead, he stared at the amber liquid as it swirled in his glass. This planet, this new life was safe and sane for him. Well, okay, maybe not wholly safe because he was a spy. But he was so damned good at pretending to be an Earthling detached from the mayhem in his home galaxy that he’d created a persona and existence that did give him a measure of security.
And best of all, he wasn’t watching the people he cared about die on a daily basis.
Turning away from Gizelle, D.T. stared out the open windows at the four distinct glimmering rays of the moons that played on the placid water. This view typically calmed him, but not tonight. Not with Gizelle here. Not with this sudden burning need he had to convince her of his good intentions.
To what end, he didn’t know.
Except that D.T. hated how she’d pulled away from him six months ago. How she’d avoided him all this time, and had only ended up here tonight because he’d stol
en the gold from her. Lured her here. And then she’d pulled away from him again, hadn’t she? So he had to reveal all his weaknesses and relive his past in order to make her see him for who he really was, and maybe win her back?
Yes.
Goddamn it!
“D.T.”
Her smooth-as-silk voice made his eyes close. When her fingers touched his arm again, he drew in a deep breath, inhaling the sultry night air and her intoxicating scent. He’d compartmentalized his life the past four years, and that had meant putting Gizelle in a place that didn’t conflict with his job or his previous life and memories.
Tonight, however, she was a part of his entire existence. And he knew she wouldn’t accept anything less. Surprisingly, when she moved closer to him and her breast brushed his bicep, the hard nipple teasing his skin through the thin material of her blouse, D.T. felt a peculiar longing that told him he could no longer hide from his past. Compartmentalize his life. Keep Gizelle at bay.
But even as those thoughts infiltrated his mind, he knew another absolute, one that would never sit right with her. One she would never forgive him for.
Staring down at her, D.T. said, “I’m not going back, Gizelle. Not for gold or currency. Not even for you.”
Chapter Six
Heartbreak was an emotion Gizelle had locked away, in the depths of her soul, a very long time ago. She’d experienced the kind of core-shattering pain that only came with losing people she loved, the bone-deep sorrow, the intense grief. Some miracle had given her the strength to rise above it and focus on something other than her sense of loss during her darkest years. The overwhelming pain had been dimmed by her rage. Anger was an emotion she could channel into something good, while grief would only lead to despair and hopelessness if she’d allowed it.
She hadn’t. Gizelle had embraced the fury inside her when her family had been murdered by Gyllian snipers right before her eyes. She’d been spared, but only to do the bidding of the Gyllians. Her rage had helped her focus on escaping their clutches, stealing a fighter ship, and braving a near-impossible escape from the enemy’s battle station.
Gizelle was a fighter through and through. It was an inherent part of her, fully engrained within her, body, heart and soul.
So when D.T. admitted to being the legendary General she sought and then refused—outright, adamantly refused to return to the Milky Way with her, to leave the outrageously extravagant Pleasure Planet in order to help save their people—
“Oh!” Her fists clenched at her sides before she lifted her hands and waved them in the air. She’d strangle D.T. if only she could! “That self-serving son of a bitch!”
Trey poked his head around the wall of the cockpit of her small cargo ship. “Something wrong?”
She narrowed her eyes on him.
Trey cocked his head to the side. “Guess you didn’t get what you wanted from Vaughn.”
“Oh, I got what I wanted from Vaughn,” she said between clenched teeth. “He gave me the gold. It’s in the cargo hull.” He’d given her something else, too, but there really was no need to share that with Trey.
“Damn him,” she said. “I need more than the gold. I need General Tanner!”
Trey’s dark brows knitted together. “Now you’ve lost me. I didn’t catch much of the conversation after the, uh, show.”
Gizelle shook her head, ignoring the heat that touched her cheeks at his unabashed remark. “I’ve lost me, too. I mean, all this time, he was right underneath my nose.”
“Come again?”
Gizelle’s teeth ground together at that unintentional innuendo. Any sort of sexual double entendre was sure to set her on edge at this point because the mere thought of sex with D.T. was still so damned appealing. Even though she currently hated him. Again.
With a sigh, Gizelle said, “D.T. is General Dylan Tanner. The one I intended to persuade to return to the Milky Way to help lead the Protective Forces. That’s what a good portion of the gold was for.”
“Ah,” Trey said, apparently catching on. “And your friend refused your offer.”
“He’s not my friend,” she said, irritated. She hated the fact that she was almost pouting. Damn it. D.T.’s refusal to return to Earth with her did more than annoy or anger her. It broke her heart. “He’s selfish and arrogant and self-indulgent and he’d rather be holed up here, drowning in the whole sensuality of this stupid planet, than help his own people.” She shook her head again, disgusted. “What kind of heathen is that, I ask you?”
Trey merely shrugged a broad shoulder. “Maybe he’s got a reason. A good one.”
“For letting his fellow human beings suffer? Die? Um, yeah. I’m sure he’s got a damn good reason for that.” And she hated every one that popped into her head. He was more interested in the Pleasure Providers on this rotten planet. He was more intoxicated by his decadent, vintage Scotch. He was more captivated by the four fucking moons! Gizelle’s temper flared. “There isn’t a reason good enough for turning his back on the Protective Forces when they need him. Now more than ever.”
She really needed to pace, to release some of her frustration and tension. But the one-person cockpit didn’t allow her much space. And it didn’t help that Trey seemed to take up more than a fair share of what little space she did have.
So she stood in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest. “I have the gold. And with it, I can do a lot of good things to help The Cause. But we really need General Tanner to rally the weary troops. How in hell am I going to convince D.T. to return to Earth with me?”
Trey propped a broad shoulder against the wall. “How’d you get him to give you the gold?”
Gizelle frowned before admitting, “I didn’t do anything. He’d already intended to give it to me. Apparently, he only stole it so I’d come to him to claim it.”
A slight grin tipped Trey’s full mouth. “Sounds like a man who knows what he wants.”
“And isn’t afraid to go after it.” Lord knew, he’d pursued her relentlessly from the get-go.
“So,” Trey mused in a contemplative, if not somewhat devious, tone. “If he was willing to use trillions in gold bars to lure you to his lair and hand over said gold, I’d say that clearly gives you the upper hand in this scenario.”
Her eyes narrowed on her tall, dark and handsome companion. “How so?”
Trey pushed away from the wall and closed the gap between them with one wide stride. Staring down at her with a smoldering look in his dark-as-night eyes, he said, “You believed you could seduce him for the gold. Obviously, you didn’t have to. Can you seduce him into returning with you?”
Gizelle let out a half-snort, half-laugh that was decidedly unladylike. She plopped into her chair. “Not a chance in hell. D.T. was adamant. And when he’s being stubborn about something, there’s absolutely nothing I can do to sway him.”
“Oh, really?” Trey knelt down, wedging himself between Gizelle’s legs and forcing them apart.
“Hey,” she protested. But then the wicked glint in Trey’s eyes and the hands on her bare thighs told her exactly what he was getting at. “Oh, I don’t think so. I mean, really, this would never work.”
As a dark eyebrow crooked at her response, Trey’s large hands moved further up her legs until they disappeared under the hem of her loose skirt. The erotic touch notwithstanding, she managed to swallow down another protest.
She’d considered using Trey in a no-holds barred seduction in order to get the gold before D.T. had handed it over to her without strings or the need for seduction. Or violence.
She knew she possessed the ability to ignite D.T.’s lust with little more than a sexy outfit. After the way he’d responded to her tonight, acting so territorial, so possessive, wouldn’t he just shoot through the solar system if he saw her with another man?
And Trey was the only man who could help her pull off this seduction. For one thing, he was bold and daring. He proved that by keeping his gaze locked with hers as his thumbs absently—or maybe purposely
—caressed her inner thighs. And he looked remarkably similar to D.T., which would no doubt tweak D.T.’s massive ego and make him determined to prove to Gizelle that even a devilish imitation like Trey wasn’t the man for her.
A smile teased her lips as a plan formed in her head.
“Oh, you’re good,” she whispered. To herself. To Trey. Because his sensuous touch and the heat in his onyx eyes made her believe she could persuade D.T. to return to Earth with her. “He’ll be tormented by every second that he has to see us together. Which means we have to be in public, where he can’t make a scene or beat the crap out of you for touching me.” Her brow lifted. “A Pleasure Club. One he’d never want to be kicked out of. He’ll have to suffer through every minute of us together or concede the fight.”
Trey’s dark eyes glowed seductively. “Selfish on my part, but I hope he’s got a really strong constitution.”
A thrill of excitement shimmied up her spine at the lascivious look on Trey’s face and the innuendo that hung in the air. “He’s strong-willed, no doubt about it.”
“Then I’ll have to pull out all the stops. And enjoy every second of it.” His hands swept higher.
He clutched her bare hips and pulled her toward him until Gizelle was perched on the edge of the seat. The breath escaped her body at the raw intensity in his eyes, the scorching look he gave her. And when his mouth crushed over hers, she whimpered in exhilaration as much as in protest.
Her fingers curled into tight fists, so determined was she not to touch him. She’d just made love with D.T. And damn it, D.T. was the man of her dreams. But, oh, God! Trey was one hell of a kisser. And if she was going to make D.T. so hot and bothered, so freaked out that she was with another man that he’d do anything—like return to Earth!—to keep from seeing Trey fuck her, then she at least had to act the part, right?
And so she unclenched her fingers and wrapped her arms around Trey’s neck as he deepened the kiss. I can do this, she told herself. Really, what was so difficult about letting such a devastatingly handsome man seduce her? In front of D.T., no less? Self-indulgent scoundrel deserved it, after all. She’d finally get her revenge for the endless amounts of time he spent at the Pleasure Clubs, for she was sure he toiled away the days with Pleasure Providers.