Azar's Prize
Page 19
“Aye, aye,” he said throatily. “Mistress.”
Epilogue
Azar watched the ship’s viewscreen, his every nerve ending on high alert. For a half hour now the attack fighters had been engaging the advanced force of Narthians. It was a test battle, designed to see if the new weapons were going to work against the super bugs.
Azar had wanted to fly one of the ships, but his skills were needed as a general. Should the fighter ships fail to stop the attack, the larger cruisers, his own ships and the Guardian fleet would have to do the job.
Naturally, he was concerned for all the pilots. But he had his eye on the left side of the formation. A certain ship, flown by a certain woman.
The woman who held his heart. Who was his joy, the color in his world.
If he should lose her…
Damn it, why weren’t there any transmissions coming back?
“Reconfigure the transmitters,” he ordered his first mate. “Make sure we’re not being jammed.
“Aye, aye, sir.”
There was a sputter over the loud speakers, and then silence.
He glared at the dark stars, in the center of which loomed a gray, swirling cloud. The battlefield. Narthian nest ships and Guardian ships, locked head-to-head.
“It’s not worth the risk,” Azar had thundered at Theron when the plan was presented to engage the small ships. “Why not meet them with heavy cruisers? We know their advance party is limited?”
“Because we have to know,” said Theron. “If our battle plans work, if the weapons work. You know as well as I when they make their main attack we will be spread too thin to use the heavy ships everywhere. We have to know where we stand. Later on it will be too late to experiment and you know it.”
“Damn it, you’re thinking like a bureaucrat, Theron.”
“And you’re thinking like Theryssa’s husband,” he countered.
Azar had no response. His old friend was right.
“I’ll be fine,” Theryssa had insisted. “Stop fretting over me so much. I’m a soldier, not a baby.”
“You’re my baby,” he insisted. “Always.”
She kissed him soundly for that one. “And you are my hero. My swashbuckling, idealistic, grumpy, domineering pirate. I know you only want to protect me, but you have to let me go. It’s my job.”
“Do you have to be so dedicated?” he complained.
“I had a good teacher.” She patted his ass.
Azar smiled at the memory.
“Sir, we have something.”
“What is it?”
“A faint signal. Over the secret channel. Number Seven.”
His heart thundered. He’d had that one put in for Theryssa. At his insistence. She thought it was showing favorites over the other pilots, but he didn’t give a damn. He could fight just as well with one more channel to listen to. “Can you zero in?”
“It’s in code.”
“Give it to me,” he ordered. “Quickly.”
“It says…You owe me. Have I translated wrong, sir?”
“No.” He sighed in relief, too deep for words. “You have it right.”
They had made a bet. Theryssa’s idea. If she came home safe, he would get flogged for giving her a hard time about going. She thought it the perfect bet.
“If I lose,” she’d quipped in perfect Theryssa style, “I’ll never have to pay up.”
“Sir, we have more signals. It’s the fleet.”
“I know,” said Azar. “The battle is won.”
Azar felt the warmth return to his limbs. All would be well. For Earth. For the galaxy. And for his heart, which was at this moment sailing in space, somewhere out there, locked in a fighter ship piloted by the bravest soul, male or female, he had ever known.
After all, who else would dare to love him?
Yes, indeed, things were going to be well all over.
With the possible exception of his ass, which was going to sting like hell tonight.
About the Author
Reese Gabriel is a born romantic with a taste for the edgier side of love. Having traveled the world and sampled many of the finer things, Reese now enjoys the greater simplicities; barefoot walks by the ocean, kisses under moonlight and whispers of passion in the darkness with that one special person.
Preferring to remain behind the scenes, cherished by a precious few, Reese hopes to awaken in the lives of many the possibilities of true love through stories of far off places and enchanted lives.
For the sake of love and hope and imagination, these stories are told. May they be enjoyed as much in the reading of them as in the writing.
Reese Gabriel welcomes mail from readers. You can write to Reese c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
Also by Reese Gabriel
Come and Get Me
Dance of Submission
Holiday Reflections anthology
Kimberlee’s Keeper
More Than Male 1: Nyssa’s Guardian
More Than Male 2: Seria’s Star Warrior
My Carina
Prisoner of Shera-Sa
Roping His Filly
Temporary Slave
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
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