by Wolfe, Kylie
“I know you’re awake. No use pretending.” His voice was flat, cold.
A scarred, calloused hand grabbed her nearest arm and yanked her to her feet. Tru bit back a groan and tried to wrench her arm out of the implacable grip. Dizzy and fighting nausea from the foolhardy action, she prayed she wouldn’t throw up. Sweat trickled from under her cap and stung her eyes. Perhaps it hadn’t been the best idea to follow him after all. Maybe he wasn’t the kind of man she’d imagined when searching through the data files. Reality painted a much different picture, one with wide brush strokes of barely-contained power and potential violence. He was much bigger up close than he had looked from her hiding place near the alehouse.
Much bigger. Angry. Too bad she hadn’t considered that possibility when she’d hatched her desperate plan to escape Lodestone.
His silent regard stretched her nerves until she wanted to collapse into a whimpering heap on the floor. Deep-rooted determination locked her knees, but couldn’t prevent the unsteady sway of her body. Mouth dry, unable to think, she kept her head lowered and waited. What else could she do?
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t jettison you into space without a suit.”
Horror snapped her head up. Chills sprinted along her skin, tightening muscles already trembling with too much adrenaline. Her lungs labored to draw her next breath. His eyes widened, then narrowed as he searched her face. Tru guessed her disguise was blown.
“Sonofabitch,” he snarled. “Who the hell are you?”
“I c-can explain. G-give me a minute.” She swallowed hard. The only thing keeping her upright was his iron grip on her arm
“Barf on my boots and I’ll throw you out the nearest air lock.”
Tru didn’t doubt for a minute he would do as he threatened. She nodded and sucked in deep breaths, willing her stomach to settle. With her vision still blurred from the blow to her head, she fought to bring his face into focus, and then wished she hadn’t succeeded.
“Well?” he demanded.
Words failed her. The dark cavern of her mind only echoed with the roar of the headache pummeling her brain like a punch-drunk miner. A quick, hard shake from Nick did little to help, nor did the potent curse he uttered when she lost her balance and fell against him.
A strong arm clamped around her back, giving her the opportunity to find her footing. Unable to do anything else, she rested her aching head against his hard chest and closed her eyes. Weariness dragged at her as the shock and fear from the past few days drained away. She trembled in his embrace and hated her weakness.
Nick Rayven had a reputation as a dangerous man to cross, but her careful inquiries had also shown him to be fair and well respected. She was betting her life on it. He was her best shot at getting out of the mess she’d found herself in. That is, if she could persuade him he needed to help her. A big if at the moment. Gathering herself, she straightened and pulled away.
It wasn’t easy meeting his eyes. Somewhere in her mind it registered they were brown, but there was no warmth in their depths. Intense, missing nothing, his sharp regard made her squirm. When he pulled a knife from his boot, her luck might have just run out.
She opened her mouth to scream. Nothing came out but a mewling squeak. She jerked in his hold, but he tightened his grip until her shoulder felt as if it was being crushed. Heart racing, barely able to breathe through the panic constricting her throat, she shut her eyes and waited for the end. Awareness narrowed to a pinprick concentrated on the man in front of her. He stepped closer and she was surrounded by the heat of his body, heard his inhale and felt the brush of displaced air when his arm moved. She gulped a breath, drew in the taste of her own fear.
Time slowed and stretched each second into a lifetime. Nothing happened.
She peeked from one eye, wondering if her cowering posture had stopped him. “What are you waiting for? Go ahead and kill me. It isn’t as if you’re the only one trying.”
“You aren’t worth killing, little girl.” Contempt spiked his voice and she cringed. “But if that was my intent, I wouldn’t use a knife. I’d have to clean up the mess and that would just piss me off. If you want your hands free, it’s faster to cut the ties.” He shifted his grip on the knife and slashed the bindings around her wrists.
Her numb arms flopped to her sides and she sucked in a breath. Why was she still alive? Pathetically grateful, she turned, took a wobbling step and swayed.
“Now then. Who the hell are you?” Nick barked.
“Tru. Tru Creighton.” Feeling began to return to her arms and razor-edged needles of agony shot from her shoulders to her fingertips, pulsing with the pounding in her head. She clenched and unclenched her fists, desperate for relief. Tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked rapidly to prevent them from falling.
“Okay, Tru Creighton.” Nick enunciated her name as if he doubted she was who she claimed to be. “Why don’t you explain why you followed me and we’ll take it from there. I’m warning you, I’d better like the answers.”
“No need to be snide. I’ll get to it.” She lifted her chin and scowled in his general direction, not quite daring to meet his eyes before looking away.
Silence stretched between them while she stalled. Intimidated and trying not to show it, Tru rubbed her wrists. Unable to stop herself, she stole a glance at him, stunned to see something perilously close to a grin and all coherent thought fled. Gathering her scattered wits, she tried again. “I...ah...need your help,” she whispered.
He raised an eyebrow, his expression mocking.
Her spirits sank further. “I can pay.”
Nick crossed his arms over his broad chest and snorted. “You don’t look like you have two credits to rub together to me.”
Her shoulders slumped. Nothing was going the way she planned. Licking dry lips, she stared into Nick’s hard face. “Please.”
Chapter 2
Nick rubbed his jaw and considered his unwanted passenger. The last thing he needed was to be saddled with another problem, and Tru Creighton had trouble written all over her. She also looked ready to collapse. He guessed sheer determination kept her on her feet. Weighing his options, he eyed his captive and blew out a breath.
“I’m guessing you have a hell of a headache,” he said, careful to bury any sympathy deep enough she couldn’t see it. Her bulky clothing had done a good job of hiding her gender, but it rankled that he hadn’t suspected she was a woman right away. “Just be glad I decided you were too small a target to use the blaster on or the authorities on Lodestone would still be picking up pieces. You’re damn lucky you got out of this with only a headache.”
Nick watched her grapple with the ramifications, half expecting her to back down or apologize for her stupidity.
She raised her chin and said, “It’s illegal to carry weapons in Lodestone. Off-worlders have to leave them at the spaceport before they can go into town. It is strictly enforced.”
Instead, she’d seized on the one piece of information she must have thought would give her a moral high ground.
“You don’t say,” Nick drawled and relaxed back against the bulkhead, holding her gaze.
No point in telling her he was licensed on numerous worlds to carry weapons. He would hate to ruin the indignation sparking in her blue eyes, replacing the fear. Her fear bothered him. Hell, there was a lot about her bothering him, like how even dirty, bedraggled and swaying on her feet she managed to look cute. He didn’t like the fact he noticed.
Nick shrugged, as if weapon laws mattered little to him, leaving no doubt he made his own rules. He watched her bite back any further comments and approved her caution in keeping her mouth shut.
“Wise move,” he said as he turned and headed for the door. He stopped in the entrance and glanced over his shoulder. “Come on. I’ll get you something for your headache, unless you plan to stay in the cargo hold.”
Tru scurried out of the cargo bay. She gave him as wide a berth as the space allowed and waited while he closed the
door. She winced with each step, and Nick remembered all too clearly the pain that battered a skull thanks to a concussion. She squinted through watering eyes as she entered the bright crew bay.
“Sit,” he ordered. With a jerk of his thumb, he indicated the small table and chairs to his right. “I’ll check the MedKit for something for your headache. Then we can talk, or rather, you can talk. I want to know what was worth risking your life to get my attention.”
* * * *
Tru sank onto the chair, folded her arms on the tabletop and dropped her aching head onto her arms. Her wool cap itched, but she didn’t have the energy to remove it. She’d been running scared for several days and didn’t care if her stomach chose that moment to rumble with hunger. What was one more humiliation?
“Here.” Nick’s tone was rough, but not unkind, as he placed a metal cylinder of water and a ‘gesic packet on the table. “I hear this stuff works quickly.”
She eyed the offering for a moment, straightened and reached for the cup. The cold liquid soothed her parched throat and revived her spirits just a little. She tore open the packet, removed the ‘gesic strip and placed it on her tongue to dissolve. Immediately her headache eased, and she sighed. Her eyes fluttered closed as she rolled the water cylinder against the throbbing bruise on her temple, appreciating the chill against her tender flesh. Opening her eyes, she murmured her thanks and offered a tentative smile.
Nick spun his chair around and straddled it. He looped his arms across its back. She couldn’t help but notice the muscles in his thighs or the strength in his forearms where he pushed up his jacket sleeves. Her gaze wandered over his broad chest and shoulders and up to the scowling man looking back at her.
She wouldn’t say he was classically handsome, but something about him drew her. Part of her interest stemmed from preliminary research she’d done a month ago on his business for her grandfather. If she were being honest about it she would have to admit to being fascinated with Nick ever since.
Studying his face, she wondered why she found him so appealing. He had high, flat cheekbones, a firm jaw and a hard mouth, with the bottom lip fuller than the top. It wasn’t a mouth given much to smiling, but she would bet her last credit when he did smile it would be devastating. Thick lashes framed deep-set brown eyes and a small crescent-shaped scar cut through the corner of his left eyebrow. He had a strong face, world weary and harsh in its beauty.
Uncompromising. The reality of Nick Rayven was so much more than the image she’d studied. The sheer force of his personality weakened her knees.
“Looked your fill yet?”
The heat of a blush climbed her cheeks and she lowered her eyes. She placed the water cylinder back on the table, removed her cap and dropped it on the table. Running her fingers through sweat-dampened hair she tried to restore it to some order. His somber scrutiny was unnerving, and she dropped her hands to her lap, clutching them together to still the tremor in her fingers.
“I cut my hair to try to pass for a mining apprentice,” she explained.
Normally she wasn’t too concerned with her appearance, but Nick’s cool regard made her nervous and aware of her present state. Feeling grubby and unattractive, she wished she’d kept her mouth shut when he flashed a ghost of a smile.
“I didn’t have much time so I know it’s cut badly. I had to use a knife of all things. I must look a fright. I rubbed dirt on my face to look like I’d just gotten off shift and I borrowed, um, stole these clothes, since mine were a dead giveaway.”
Tru raised tear-drenched eyes to his and bit her bottom lip. “I didn’t know what else to do,” she whispered.
She wasn’t making sense, didn’t understand why her badly cut hair and ugly clothes seemed more important than anything else at the moment. They just were. Her emotions stayed too close to the surface, overriding everything else.
Reaching for the water to give herself something to do, she inadvertently knocked it over. Water cascaded across the tabletop, over the edge, and onto her lap. Jumping up from the chair proved a mistake as blood drained from her head. Black spots danced before her eyes and her knees gave way. She swayed, but before she collapsed, Nick caught her and lowered her to her seat. His large, strong hands gently pushed her head between her knees.
“Take slow breaths until you don’t feel so lightheaded before you try to sit back up,” he ordered, crouching beside her chair.
Embarrassed, she nodded, gripping the chair edge with shaking fingers. When the dizziness passed, she sat up, blinking to clear the grey tunneling her vision. He thrust the rescued container of water toward her and she automatically took it.
“Drink.”
Tru brought the cylinder to her mouth and drank what remained.
“Feel better?” He rose, and went back to his seat.
Without looking at him, she nodded slowly, unwilling to make any sudden moves. She flinched, but held her ground when Nick lifted her chin. His calloused fingers warmed the skin along her jaw and she suppressed a shiver. This more compassionate side of Nick increased her growing attraction to him.
“When was the last time you ate or slept?” he asked.
Tru raised her eyes to meet his. Caught by his intense gaze, she couldn’t look away until he dropped her chin and put a little distance between them. Rocking back in his chair, he crossed his arms and frowned. Whether he was irritated at himself or her, she didn’t know.
“The day before yesterday...I think. I’ve been hiding, waiting for an opportunity to get away from Lodestone.” Drained, she propped her elbows on the table and cradled the cylinder of water between them.
“And I was the opportunity. I could have proven worse than what you were running from, so what made you decide I was the best avenue for escape?” An unmistakable warning pervaded his tone. “Don’t even think about lying either. I want the truth.”
She bit her bottom lip. Nerves drove her heart rate up a notch. “I was desperate and trapped on Lodestone. I thought you looked like someone who might help, who could be trusted.” She glanced at him. “I still don’t know if I made the right choice.”
Nick’s mouth tightened.
Her simplistic answer wouldn’t satisfy him for long. Whatever he thought was well hidden, but he didn’t press for more. She was grateful.
“It must be your lucky day then. You’re aboard my ship, the Messenger, and I’m Nick Rayven. Currently, we’re headed to my home world of Alludra. Got a problem with that?”
“No, none at all. Thank you.” She breathed her first easy breath in days.
He pushed out of his chair and rummaged in the food storage unit until he found a meal packet. He popped it into the heater, warmed it, then plopped it in front of Tru.
“Eat.” He headed to the bridge, leaving her alone.
She waited, but he didn’t return, so she relaxed enough to shrug off her outer coat and drape it over the back of her chair. It was a relief to remove the heavy garment. She would have liked to remove the work jacket she wore under it as well, but wasn’t quite up to the task. Instead, she turned her attention to the foil packet in front of her and inhaled. It smelled like heaven, better than any gourmet meal she’d ever eaten.
She couldn’t open it fast enough. She barely tasted the first few bites, but once her initial hunger eased, she slowed down and savored the food. She wouldn’t turn her nose up at a prepackaged meal ever again. Finishing off the meal, she kept one eye out for the man who held her fate in his hands. Her gamble had paid off and she’d escaped Lodestone, but she might have just jumped from the fat to the fire.
* * * *
Nick listened to her quiet movements with half an ear. He wasn’t without sympathy, although he did his best to hide it. Obviously, she was up to her pretty little neck in some kind of trouble. Whatever her problems, he had no intention of getting involved. He’d drop her off at the nearest city and let her fend for herself. What happened beyond that was of no interest to him. He had bigger problems to worry about.
> The last minute change in delivery plans by Geotern Mining worried him. Why was it necessary to travel all the way to Kaydet instead of the original drop off on his home world? Dendera Labs had many outposts, but Kaydet lay way off the beaten path. If Geotern Mining was in such a hurry to register its find, then it made no sense to add so much travel time.
Nothing would be gained by brooding so Nick ambled back to the crew quarters to check on Tru. She slept at the table with her head pillowed on folded arms, the remnants of her meal pushed to one side. She looked vulnerable and young. Long lashes left crescent shadows against her cheek and the paleness of her skin highlighted the darkened bruise on her temple. It had not been one of his finer moments and guilt twisted his gut. He could do nothing about it now. Time would tell what trouble Tru Creighton was in and until she told him the whole of it, he would bide his time and reserve judgment.
He lifted her easily and carried her to one of the bunks bolted to the wall. She slept deeply without stirring when moved. Placing one knee on the pliant surface he shifted her against his chest one armed while he unbuttoned and removed her work jacket. He tossed it to the foot of the bunk and then removed her boots, letting them drop to the floor with a soft, metallic thud. He opted to leave the remainder of her clothing alone.
He got his MedKit and then did a quick scan using the portable MedScan. It showed her vitals were good, and her concussion nothing to worry about. She’d dropped into a restorative sleep. Some of the tension eased out of his shoulders as he put the device away.
Restless, he cleaned up the table then paced to the bridge to double check the coordinates. He settled into his chair and ran a long-range perimeter sweep to look for anything out of the ordinary, a habit ingrained from years in the military. Satisfied no one followed, he initiated a random scan program, and then pulled up a haloviz screen to do a little research on his sleeping guest.