Another man climbed down the ladder into the hold. His vivid red hair and freckles matched Katrina’s features.
“Rory!” Katrina greeted him happily.
“How’s me lovely cousin, Trina,” Rory said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. He scanned their faces and cried, “Bestir yourselves. We’ve got trouble. The Emps insist on searching the ship before we are permitted to lift off the planet.”
Deirdre shoved Katrina toward the inner passage, whispering, “Go hide! You know where to go?”
Katrina nodded. “Our usual hidey hole?”
“Dive into it quickly!” Deirdre said sharply.
“It will be a tight fit for two,” Cormac teased with a gleeful sneer.
Grabbing Black Hawk’s arm, Katrina, urged “Niall, come quickly! We must hide from the Emperor’s search party.”
He gave a curt nod, and followed her along the corridors. They ran along one passage, descended a ladder and entered the engine room. A large vat of water stood in the middle of the room for double use as a storage tank and for cooling the engines. Kat gestured to the flanged cylinder in the center of the water vat.
“The turbine?” Hawk asked.
“It’s modified to have an empty space in the center. We can hide inside it.”
Climbing onto the catwalk, Katrina leaned over the top of the turbine and pushed the lever to lower the water level in the vat. When the water had receded below the top of the black cylinder, she rotated the wheel to open the lid, revealing the internal cavity. She slipped inside and took hold of the rungs of the ladder on the interior wall.
“Come on, Niall!” she called, climbing down into the cylinder.
Cautiously, the Hawk followed her inside. It was indeed a snug fit for two people. They could scarcely avoid touching each other in the tight quarters.
“We go on down,” she whispered. Katrina turned the inner wheel to close the hatch, and reopened the water intake valve. She stepped lower on the rungs.
Hawk slipped down and stood facing her, with his hands resting on the wall behind her. Their bodies were separated by a scant two inches. Katrina listened to the water lapping higher on the outside of the cylinder where they were hidden. The water sloshed over the top of the turbine, and they were sealed underwater in the dark.
Sensing the warmth of Hawk’s breath on her face, Katrina quipped, “Doesn’t every smuggler ship have a hidey hole?”
“A turbine makes an unusual hiding place,” he said. “I like it. They may well miss us.” When he stopped speaking, only the muted hum of the engines disturbed the silence.
A moment later, he whispered, “Your friends are very affectionate.”
“It’s merely their manner. It doesn’t mean anything really,” she murmured, wondering if he felt envious of Cormac. How could she convince him of their innocent intentions?
“Have they really been searching for you, Mistress Trina?”
Her spirits drooped. He had reverted to the formality of calling her “Mistress.”
“Yes, Niall, they’re my loyal friends,” she said, trying to reassure him, or possibly, ease his jealousy. His firm chest was temptingly close to her. She smelt the acrid odor of sweat from their exertions running in the high temperatures, overlaid with his clean masculine scent.
Lifting her head, Katrina felt rather than saw, his head bend toward her. His lips fastened on her mouth, and they kissed, long and deeply. While he was distracted, she snaked her hand under the mask, hoping to explore his face. His cheek felt smooth, and the tips of her fingers lightly brushed against his nose and ear.
In an instant, his steel fingers gripped her hand. “No!” he snapped, removing her hand from his face. “Don’t touch my face!” He softened his harsh words by kissing her hand and nibbling gently on her fingers.
He’s good, she thought, as hot ripples of desire trickled down her spine. His lips traveled to hr mouth again and she pressed against his firm chest, longing for more. The space inside the cylinder was so tight that they knocked against the walls on either side with every shift in position. A pity, there was no room for vigorous movement.
After some minutes of his eager kisses, she murmured, “Niall, what shall we do now?”
“Katrina, lovely Katrina,” he whispered incoherently, still kissing her face. Her pulse quickened. Breathing faster, she slipped her hands over the contours of his back.
Abruptly, her resolve hardened. It was senseless to prolong this passionate embrace. Even now, the Imperial guards must be searching the scouter. His kisses thrilled her, but she was no closer to uncovering the mystery of his hidden face. Why was he so obstinate in concealing his face? The left side of his face had felt normal to her probing fingers. What was wrong with the right side? Was it deformed in some way? She tried to reason with him again, “Niall, we can’t go on like this.”
“I have no freedom in this snug spot,” he muttered, kissing the nape of her neck. He did not seem to be listening to her words. His lips traced lower down her neck.
Katrina stiffened, recalling his dead wife. She had no intention of making love in the dark with a man whose face was always hidden. Despite the temptation of his ardent kisses, Katrina resolved never to become his lover until he had revealed the mystery behind his mask.
“That’s enough!” she said in a hard voice, pushing his hands away from her body. Her indignation boiled over. Why, he was still wearing gloves! He could at least have removed the glove from his natural hand.
She hissed with the spitfire anger matching her red hair, “No more, Captain Hawk! Keep your hands off me! I will uncover your masked face first, before you widen my perspective further.”
His hands slid down and pinned her arms to her sides. “You’re a wild little Kat, but I’ll tame you,” he whispered, gravelly with suppressed passion.
Squirming in his tight grasp, she kicked hard at his ankles. Briefly, she considered, and then rejected, kneeing him in the crotch. It wouldn’t do to enrage him too far. She ceased struggling and said in her severest tone, “Those are my terms. Accept them or leave me alone!”
“Not even for one night,” he pleaded in a tantalizingly deep voice.
“I don’t do blind dates,” she snapped. “Once would not be enough. You cannot persuade me, nor can you force me to love you against my will.”
He pushed her back against the opposite wall, so their bodies were separated to the fullest extent possible in the cramped cylinder. “You win, stubborn Mistress Trina. Stop kicking me and I’ll take my hands off you.”
Her breathing slowed and her desire cooled, even though they were only two inches apart. “Thank you.”
Dropping his hands from her arms, he murmured with a hint of amused condescension, “Does Mistress Trina behave like that with her royal lover?”
“Do you imagine I would ever accompany him into a smuggler’s hidey-hole like this place?” She laughed at the notion. “Niall, I want to be your friend, more than a friend. But, I’ve lived too long with secrets to enjoy them. You have discovered my two identities. I don’t want your secrets spoiling my love life.”
“No one sees my face,” he insisted, yet again.
“Well, it’s your choice.”
At that moment, they heard the gentle swish of water receding from the top of the vat. Holding still and silent, Katrina gazed up, praying the Emperor’s guards were not waiting above the hatch. The external wheel creaked round. A hiss of expelled air, and the circular hatch lifted.
Cormac called down, “Had enough fun in there?”
“He can’t stop joking,” Katrina muttered, hoping Black Hawk appreciated her disapproval.
He tapped her arm, gesturing for her to ascend first. As she climbed the rungs, the Hawk patted her rump, evidently undeterred by her vehement protests. She crawled out of the cylinder onto the catwalk around the water vat, and stretched her cramped limbs gratefully.
Sliding lithely out of the hole in the turbine, Black Hawk joined her on the catwalk. Cor
mac watched them with his typical expression of cynical amusement. Katrina shot him a frowning glare, hoping he would restrain his lively tongue.
“The guards have left. They found nothing out of order and we have permission to depart,” Cormac announced in his lilting brogue. He tossed his black curls, grinning broadly. “Come up to the bridge and we’ll decide on our destination.”
“I’ll be happy if we can leave this planet safely,” the Hawk said in a sarcastic tone.
Cormac shot a glance at him, but refrained from comment, to Katrina’s relief. He waved Katina ahead. She shrugged and took the lead along the ship’s passageways to the bridge. The two men walked behind, without speaking.
She glanced back, noting the similarities between the two men. Both were tall and walked with loose, supple strides. Cormac’s lean face was pursed in a comic grimace, and he threw sideways glances at his black-clad companion. The Hawk’s expression was concealed by the veil of his black mask, and he stared straight ahead, ignoring Cormac’s glances. Katrina sighed, sensing the unspoken tension between them. She would have to watch them carefully to prevent conflicts erupting.
When they reached the bridge, Deirdre greeted her warmly. Rory leaped up from the pilot’s seat and hugged her enthusiastically. “Trina, me darling cousin, you’re sure a pretty sight for sore eyes!”
Katrina gazed around the small control room, familiar from many previous exploits. It looked much as usual, with a clutter of empty coffee cups on the console and the chairs swiveled in random directions.
Captain Hawk leaned casually against the rear wall, his keen eyes absorbing every detail of the controls. His taut stance exuded a thinly veiled strength. She smiled at him, pleased he seemed more tolerant of her friends’ levities and had recovered his equanimity.
“Mistress Trina, where have you been roaming?” Rory asked. “We searched for you on Hassam three and four.” As he spoke, he was checking the sensors prior to liftoff.
“Did my message capsule get through?” Katrina asked anxiously, remembering her instant decision to give the codes to the young Solarian officers.
“We’ve heard the Solarian Intelligence Service has denied any knowledge of the Emperor’s new codes. Of course, SIS is well known for denying its own existence,” Deirdre joked.
“So, they have the codes,” Katrina muttered. “I took a chance on an unorthodox conduit.”
“To be sure, me darling, you never liked the orthodox way,” Cormac said, slapping at her backside. She jumped aside quickly, evading his contact.
With a wry twist of her full lips, Deirdre declared, “Trina, remember you’ve been invited to visit Prince Alvin next week on the royal estate of Topaz.”
“First, let’s get away from this Imperial planet,” Katrina suggested, her heart sinking at the idea of consorting with the milksop Prince again.
Immediately, Deirdre sat down beside Rory, and gazed intently at the displays. Rory started the engines and eased the scouter into the runway. He stared ahead, revved the engines and the ship sped along the ramp, lifting over the fence and accelerating up through the atmosphere.
The ground shrank away rapidly, and Katrina breathed again. Soon, they rose above the planet and zoomed away from the yellow sun of Delphi towards the bright points of the stars.
Their focus on the star-filled view was broken by Cormac. He sneered, “They say he’s a great kisser!”
Suspicious of his intentions, Katrina frowned at him, “Who are you speaking of, Cormac O’Brien?”
He gazed at her with a puzzled expression on his long face. “Why, your unlamented Prince Alvin, of course!”
Katrina spluttered in exasperation at his unrelenting teasing. “It’s news to me. Why, I wouldn’t want to smear the red gloss from his lips or the kohl from his eyelids.”
With grunt of amusement, Black Hawk murmured, “Not someone comfortable creeping in a ditch. He would dirty his green satin skirts.”
Katrina guessed the Hawk was familiar with the Prince’s cosmetics, or at least he must have observed the fashions of the Emperor’s court. Interesting, she mused. Could he have visited the court?
Cormac chuckled, “Well, me dear Trina, your adoring little Prince will be flabbergasted if you don’t appear on Topaz.”
Still pondering the enigma of Black Hawk and his knowledge of Prince Alvin, a flash of insight hit Katrina. She blanched, reeling and grabbed the back of a chair for support.
A firm hand grasped her elbow and steadied her. “Careful!” the Hawk said at her ear.
Katrina smiled weakly at him. Once, she recalled, there was a rumor about the youngest daughter of the Emperor. She was childish and beautiful. The princess had escaped the court on some wild adventure, returning only to die tragically. Was it possible that the unfortunate princess was in fact the Hawk’s dead wife? Her notion explained the magnificent gowns in his wife’s bedchamber, and his familiarity with the courtly fashions. She bit her lip. What game was he playing? He despised the Emperor from everything she had observed.
She glanced up at his veiled face and her heart lurched.
His green eyes gazed at her with concern. He asked, “Mistress Trina, are you ill?”
She shook her head, murmuring sadly, “No. I’m tired of pretending to flirt with the foolish Prince.”
Rory called from the pilot’s seat, “What’s our destination? We’re exiting the Delphian solar system.”
Captain Hawk patted Katrina’s shoulder and stepped to Rory’s side, examining the star charts. He spoke with an assured authority, “My crew will be searching for me. Will you permit me to contact my ship and arrange a meeting place?”
“You’re leaving us so soon?” Cormac scoffed with ill-concealed distaste.
The Hawk stiffened, but remained silent. Kat saw his fingers twitch. She cried, “Stop, Cormac!” Her warning was ignored.
Stepping belligerently in front of Hawk, Cormac continued his taunts, “What of our lovely Mistress Trina? Have you finished toying with her?”
Black Hawk stiffened, a murderous glare in his eyes. Cormac thrust his fist at his opponent. In the blink of an eye, the Hawk had an unbreakable grip on Cormac’s wrist and was forcing his arm back.
Katrina cried, “No! Stop it!” and rushed to separate them, tugging their arms apart. The Hawk unclenched his fist and allowed Katrina to draw his arm away.
Cormac swore and massaged his wrist. “He’s got a grip like steel!”
“His hand is steel and lethal. His strength ensured our escape,” Katrina said fiercely, slipping her arm through the Hawk’s, while holding on to his metal wrist. “Why must you leap blindly into danger, Cormac?”
She looked around at her friends. “Niall helped me escape from our prison. I owe him the opportunity to regain his ship.”
“You’re right, Trina,” Deirdre chimed in with her melodic lilt. “Cormac overreacted, but he was angry, believing you would be abandoned by a dastardly pirate.”
Captain Hawk gazed at Katrina and groaned, “I would not abandon beautiful Katrina. But, I cannot agree to her terms.”
Although her eyes were filling with tears, Katrina smiled at him, and squeezed his arm to show her affection. “I’m sorry, Niall. I’m tired of the pretense.”
Rory said suddenly, “Trina, what will you do with your two disguises?”
Staring out the view screen at the distant stars, Katrina murmured, “I’m not sure anymore. I don’t enjoy the artificial pomp of the court, nor do I want to dodge around the docks, scared and dirty, for the rest of my life.”
The faces of her friends registered varying degrees of astonishment. Cormac’s long face had a thoughtful frown, yet for once, he did not speak. Rory shrugged and checked the sensors.
Tossing her long black tresses, Deirdre said, “Why I believe you’re serious, Trina.”
Katrina grinned at their bewildered expressions and effortlessly took charge of the bridge. “Deirdre, give Captain Hawk the com so he can call his crew on the Rogue Star.
Rory, is the scouter ready to go hyper?”
“All systems ready to go,” Rory replied, flicking through the displays.
Captain Hawk selected the correct frequency and set a call winging across virtual space to his crew. He looked curiously at the scouter controls and asked, “Do you have defensive capabilities?”
Cormac said in his lazy drawl, “Sure, you’d like to know. Why should we tell you, Black Hawk?”
“I’m a passenger on your ship and the Emperor’s cruisers may attack at any minute.”
“He’s right,” Deirdre said. She had a strongly practical side. “They may have put a trace on the scouter when we left Ulverkop. But, the Shamrock is designed for speed and stealth, not for opposing an attack.”
It was Rory from the pilot’s seat, and not, surprisingly the pugnacious Cormac, who raised another objection. “How do we know Captain Hawk won’t set a trap for his ship to board us?”
With a sigh of exasperation, Hawk said, “I prefer my ship over yours, and there is only one thing on your ship that I desire.”
“And what might that one thing be?” drawled Cormac, returning to his usual taunting attitude.
Katrina raised her eyes. Not again! She flushed red at the alluring invitation in the Hawk’s green eyes as he gazed at her.
“Why, Mistress Trina, or Kat, or whatever else she prefers. I invite her to visit my ship.” He offered her his outstretched right hand, the gloved metal hand.
She pressed her lips together, growing angry with him again. How many times must she tell him? Katrina said bitterly, “You coax me. Yet, what do you offer me? Life in the gilded prison of your dead wife’s bedchamber, with no lights allowed when you visit me?”
He recoiled as if she had slapped him. She thought the implied insult would keep him silent. She was wrong.
“Please, Katrina, you’re not like my ex-wife,” he pleaded. “You love adventure. You’ve fought by my side. I would never imprison you. You don’t know me well.”
Jumping to stand within a few inches of his chest, Katrina tilted her head and glared at his veiled face. She hissed with all the fiery promise of her red hair, “You have identified the problem, Niall Black Hawk. I wish to know you better. I have asked, and you have denied my request.”
Captured by the Hawk Page 6