by Hotter Edge
Hakan narrowed his eyes. Careful, friend.
“We would be willing to bring your woman with us while you settle your debts. I shudder to think what they will take from her should they get their hands on a Princess of Sol.”
Hakan had endured the Orchid’s violence, had watched the butcher’s knife come down, had screamed the agony when he’d been determined to bear it, then the long hours of suffering thereafter—all of it heightened to an almost unbearable shout of warning: Get her away from here.
He dragged his gaze over to his wife. Her gold sparkle was near blinding. But he could see all too clearly her uplifted, questioning brow and the challenge in her eyes daring him to do his worst.
***
“I’d like that very much,” Hakan said to Lash, “but Pilar goes wherever and does whatever she wants.”
A smile twitched at Pilar’s lips. See? Her husband was getting to know her. Nothing like a little life-and-death situation to accelerate the process.
“You should teach her her place.”
Pilar’s mood sharpened. Her place? No one placed her, not even Hakan. What an idea.
“Her place is next to me,” Hakan said, so he must have known what Lash meant. The Hub had so many different kinds of people. It would take a while to understand them all—maybe her whole life.
Never mind. She’d learn, and Hakan would help her. He was right. Her place was next to him.
“Where I can keep an eye on her,” her husband amended.
Pilar elbowed him in the gut. Not exactly what she had in mind.
“Well, we’re leaving as soon as we can get the red for our journey—this situation could get very bad quickly.” Lash paused in the threshold of the door. Cocked his head in a kind of why-the-hell-not shrug. “We’d take you both. Get you away from here. You could come back with Congress soldiers, flush them out.”
Tempting. Especially because she’d seen the raw flesh and cleaved bone of Hakan’s wrist. They could go away, return stronger. And they could do so with complete anonymity. No one would think to search the Roma caravan. And as long as Hakan was with her—
Hakan sliced his head to the side. No. “Something had to have happened recently to give my uncle his newfound confidence, or he’d have acted before this and saved himself the threat of exposure from the attention of the wedding.”
Pilar flushed. She hadn’t considered the timing of Victor’s coup—just the money behind it. But sending an assassin while the four sectors watched? Maiming his nephew? Why now?
Something about now was critical. They shouldn’t leave unless they were prepared to give up Nyer. And she wasn’t. Not yet. Not even after Hakan’s hand. Corp families had the courage to brave the stars in their genes. It’s how their ancestors had won their fortunes, and how Pilar would keep hers.
“Princess of Sol,” Lash asked, “do you know where we might find some red?”
It was well known that her dowry was 500 books of solyite. But the lot wasn’t going to be sent to the Hub to be put on display, as it had on Sol during the wedding celebration. Sol Corp was going to convert the value into pax and transfer the funds to Hakan’s account. Maybe they already had, and Victor now had her money in addition to the Orchid’s.
“I’m sorry. Wish I did.” Which meant the Roma were stuck. Wait. “How did you get here without red?”
“We’ve been using the synthetic mica.”
Pilar made a face. “Doesn’t that—?”
“Make you sick. Yes. We put the women and children in stasis while we travel.”
The synth could also shorten life. She had no idea if that side effect was mitigated by stasis. Made her blanche to think about the very young enduring it.
“You’d head to Sol if we went with you,” Hakan put in. “Negotiate our release in return for red.”
A flash of cold pooled in Pilar’s belly. She could’ve become a hostage while she’d been sparkling her eyes with gold flakes. She could’ve become a hostage and she wouldn’t have blamed Lash, not if his family were getting ill on the synthetic red. Children, for gods’ sake.
“You could wait,” Pilar said. “I could get a message to my family. Have some red here in less than two days.”
Lash’s gaze dropped to Hakan’s stumped arm. “The Hub is lost. The Orchid could take our birds, and then we’d have nothing.”
“Thirty-six hours.” Pilar had been present for the Sol Corp research symposium on synthetic solyite. Had seen some of the long-term effects. She’d never considered that people would use it anyway. “I’ll comm them now. It’s my mica.”
“I won’t gamble with my children’s lives,” Lash said.
Pilar shook her head. Gods, if he only knew. Who was peddling the synthetic red anyway? “Trust me, you are already.”
***
Hakan sighed the moment he closed the door to the quarters and turned to Pilar. “You’ve been busy.”
Her eyes went flinty, chin lifting to goad him. “Just getting to know my new home. My new people. I love this Hub. I think I’ll stay a while.”
He didn’t mistake the edge in her voice. They had unfinished business about his forcibly removing her from Nyer. Well, he didn’t regret it, even if it hadn’t worked. “And here I’ve been sorry I brought you into this mess.”
“You’ve been wrong.” All that gold on her olive skin dazzled. He was always dazzled looking at her.
He’d been interested in Pilar-the-woman—different from Pilar Sol, heiress—from the first moment she’d shot him a wry, long-suffering glance. He’d just formally presented himself and his proposal to unite Sol and Frust to her father. She was lovely, no missing that, but she’d had a commentary going on in the depths of her dark eyes, and it had seemed he’d been the only one aware of it. Just him. Somehow they’d gotten to talking like that throughout the negotiations.
A dark glance from her cat eyes. You bored yet?
Drawn brow. I live for business.
Eye roll. Well, I’m bored.
Smirk. When we’re having so much fun?
Tilted head, in the direction of where to meet her. More fun over there.
Level look. Won’t you get in trouble?
Grin. I live for trouble.
Made of light and spirit, Pilar had burned away all the concern and worry that had gathered in his mind about his uncle and his criminal partners. She’d weighted down his heart with hope for the future, the idea that maybe he could prevail. That with their marriage, he could win back Nyer.
Pilar was right: he’d been wrong. At least he was man enough to admit it.
He held out his only hand. “I’m Hakan Frust. Nice to meet you.” Nice, and a little frightening as well. Who was she really, besides his wife?
Half of her mouth pulled up. “Pilar.”
They shook lefties, like strangers.
He wondered why she’d left off the ‘Sol,’ since that had had as much to do with their marriage. But then, no—she’d left the Sol part of herself behind—had needed to, he thought—while he was doing everything in his power to become the Frust of Nyer Hub. Her conspiratorial streak during the negotiations should’ve warned him. She didn’t do what was expected of her, and she wasn’t afraid of repercussions. Ultimately, she’d rigged the courtship process so that she’d get what she wanted. Or rather, whom.
Had anyone else realized that the marriage had been orchestrated by Pilar, and Pilar alone? And she’d managed to look devastating throughout. Well, she’d managed to devastate him on many occasions.
What in Sol hell, to borrow a phrase, had he gotten himself into?
“You are aware that the Hub you love is in financial distress.” He should’ve always been negotiating with her. He knew better now.
“I’ve studied the reports,” she said.
He bet she knew every line item. Maybe he should ask her about the tariffs.
Full disclosure now. “While I was courting you, my uncle was courting the Black Orchid so that he could retain control without Sol support.
”
“I figured that out the hard way.” A little bite there. Warranted, of course.
Hakan bent the elbow of his right arm. “I figured it out the hard way, too.”
His mistake. The white orchids decorating the wedding fetes should’ve warned him. But what then? What could he have done differently? It could be that their failure had actually been the best escape possible.
Pain flickered across Pilar’s features, and a little resignation. But only a little. “Thank you for getting me out of the line of fire.”
He smiled. “Thanks for coming to rescue me.”
She shrugged, heaved a huge sigh. “The rescue was actually an accident.”
She made him grin: saving his ass had been an easy by-product of some other escapade.
“Thank you anyway.” What had she really been doing—oh, right, something with Barton. “You can’t trust him, you know.”
Her thoughts were running parallel to his. “There’s a chance he might come through.”
Hakan had been back in the sector for two years, and Barton had proven himself over and over again to be a spineless dick. How many chances could a man, even family, be given?
But Hakan wasn’t going to doubt Pilar again. If she thought there was a chance. “I hope so.” He really did. Barton, cousin by blood, had been a brother once. “He’s doing what for you exactly?”
“Getting a dump of his father’s contract files.”
Snort. “There’s no way Victor would let him have the codes to access that information.”
A glimmer in her eyes. Hakan now knew to be forewarned.
“And yet I have your codes and you didn’t give them to me.”
He inclined his head, shifted forward, the better to catch her. “Do you, now?”
“Mmm,” was her affirmative answer. The glimmer turned to dialogue. What kind of fool do you take me for? I had your codes the first day.
He raised an eyebrow. The first day?
A tug at her lips. The first minute even.
His other brow lifted to join the first. You exaggerate.
Her smile broadened. Do I?
Gods, but she made him hard. “So let’s hear it,” he said. “Your plan.” If she could save the Hub, he’d give it to her. Besides, every Roma in the four sectors would be docking here if they succeeded.
She shrugged, easing back away from him infinitesimally. “I need the files from Barton first. We’re to meet him and Reina in a couple of hours.”
Hakan remembered: at some party. “And let’s say the files provide a name—an Orchid in control. Then what?”
“We alert the Peace.” But her tone descended as she made a realization. “Who would either be already bought by the Black Orchid or your uncle, or who would be killed for becoming involved. Your uncle would have the Hub Peace under his thumb.”
And comming for off-Hub help would be risky. Help would take time to arrive—the nearest being Sol—and Victor controlled the Hub’s defensive measures. Still, Hakan had friends. A secure comm line, and maybe he could find safe passage.
She screwed up her mouth for a second, thinking. “It’s just us against them, isn’t it?”
“Mmm,” he replied, stealing her wry answer from before. “For the time being.” He had some friends he’d attempt to make contact with. See if they would help.
Not to be defeated, her gaze hardened. He could almost see her moving around the pieces of their situation into different configurations. This here. No this. And if Barton… Then this. Maybe Father—?
Uncertainty flickered in Pilar’s gaze, and that more than anything else alarmed him. Not right. She would always be one to believe there was a way out, a solution, victory on the horizon. And he’d borrowed her faith, since he lacked it in his nature. The first step in any successful plan would be to restore her hope if he were to have any.
Hakan reached out with his good hand and snagged his wife at her waist. Drew her close to him, so that she looked up in irritation at her interrupted planning.
“I’m actually optimistic,” Hakan lied.
The Pilar inside her eyes looked skeptical, while her mouth remained in a studied version of her pout.
“We’re still alive.”
“Yeah. Alive is good,” she begrudgingly allowed. Clearly didn’t satisfy her though.
“And off my uncle’s radar.” He’d have no idea where they were.
“Off radar.” A little better, but she wasn’t about to celebrate. She had his Hub to save, and she’d wanted to do it all by herself.
He would love this woman forever.
“And with the wedding fetes on indefinite hold, and our meeting with Barton two hours in the future, we have time alone together.”
Her breath arrested, eyebrows lifting. It seemed he’d finally made a valid point.
“I could use some seducing,” he said. “I’ve had a bad couple of days.”
A flash of irritation. “You drugged me and threw me on a bird for Sol.”
“Good point.” Hakan drew her closer. “I’ll do the seducing.”
***
So now the man thinks he’s going to get lucky. She turned her head away, so that his kiss wouldn’t find her lips. Little condensations of anger still existed in the space occupied by her heart. And they hurt. She’d made everything so easy for him, maybe too easy. She hadn’t played any games—well, not the toying kind. The roof of Sol palace had been an excellent location for their first night together—under the stars—even if he’d had to walk the ridgeline of the eaves to get there. She’d had to do the same, although, okay, she’d been doing that balancing act from the day she could walk.
The point was, she’d never misled him. All her artifice had been employed to mislead others, specifically her parents, who’d become excruciatingly overbearing while Mica was off-world. But with Hakan, she’d always been true.
His mouth grazed the spot just under her ear, exploiting one of her weaknesses. Damn him. She braced against the hot sparkle that zapped along her nerves, complimentary zings echoing deep and low. He knew she loved his mouth.
She inhaled and tightened to deny the sensations, but it only made her breasts press more firmly against his chest. Another clever move on his part.
“Wife,” he murmured.
Damn. The bastard fought dirty. Wife was her favorite word.
“I thought of you while we were apart.” He spoke as he slid his mouth down to her bare shoulder. His breath was scorching hot on her skin and heated the rest of her from that discrete area of attention. And yet she shuddered against him and gripped the bicep of his good arm.
“Well, I was cursing you.” He was the one who’d separated them.
“I figured.” A smile against her skin.
The smile cracked her resolve. Her body’s responses to him were one thing—though she fully realized she’d be depriving herself if she resisted—but her heart didn’t think at all where Hakan was concerned. She loved him. They might war against each other, but she was a not-so-secret double agent. It had been his most devious maneuver—getting her on his side—during the courtship negotiations.
At some point during his arguments on behalf of Frust, she’d found herself wanting him to succeed. He’d seemed to have something to prove, a darkness to overcome, a future to build. She’d wanted to push up her sleeves and help him accomplish it.
“Nyer is pure possibility,” he’d argued. “It’s Nyer that will dictate the shape of all our fortunes. Joined with Sol, Nyer will return prosperity through the measures presented in my proposal—the kind of light system they have hubbed at Mars, suing for representation in the Congress, recognizing indigenous life forms before voracious expansion. But let order fail, and so does any hope of peaceful commerce for the foreseeable future. Help me.”
Her father had said that there was no way humanly possible that Hakan Frust could accomplish his ambitions.
And she’d observed back that if he even managed a quarter of what he hoped,
Sol would thereafter be known as the fool world without the vision to back him.
She’d already been sleeping with him by then, a fact her father hadn’t needed to know. Hence, the rooftop.
But to build something. Even now she felt Hakan’s passion.
Of course, her husband was now amusing himself in the cleavage pushed up by her new corset. She’d known when the Romani woman pulled the strings at the back tight that Hakan would enjoy the effect. Predictable. She didn’t know how he was going to get her out of it, but she’d have a hell of a lot of fun watching him try. On pain of death, he’d better not cut the ties. She loved the fit.
Pilar gave a long-suffering sigh. “So the sex.”
Hakan lifted his head. His eyes had darkened, and now contained a caveman’s narrowed interest. “Sex good.”
She forced herself not to smile. “You probably expect me to do all the work?”
He lifted his stumped arm from where it had rested against his side, slightly bent at the elbow. “Not so. I can think of an ideal position that wouldn’t affect my arm at all.” He lowered his hand to her ass—which would be up the air if they went with his idea—and pulled her even closer.
Yes, he was feeling better. The residual euphorics from the nanites probably had something to do with it, but his color was normal, his grip on her behind characteristically Hakan. She warmed all over. Her body knew him, wanted him skin-to-skin close, but mingled with the rising heat was her fear.
If Victor had been vicious enough to take Hakan’s hand, he could easily have killed him too. A future without Hakan was unthinkable—she might survive, but it would change her such that she wouldn’t know herself.
She didn’t want to cry now. “Seriously? That’s all you got?”
The fact that he’d been maimed less than thirty-six hours ago got him a bang lot of leeway, and he knew it.
“I happen to know you enjoy it as much as I do. But if you have another idea, I’m very amenable in this matter.”
“Uh-huh.” She pushed him toward a pallet made of converted seating, just wide enough for one person to sleep, open on all sides. He reclined on his back, the Frust heir at his ease, and she climbed up to straddle him. He was smiling as if he’d already come out on top. The possessive hand on her hip claimed her right back.