by JC Cassels
His attention dipped briefly to the weapon in her hand before returning to her face. His gaze locked with hers.
“You look good,” he said.
Bo’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not as pretty as you used to be,” she fired back.
He winced as he shifted position again.
Adrenaline flooded her system as she shifted her aim from his leg to his head.
His brow gathered. Something akin to regret flickered across his face and disappeared. He sighed.
“Can I at least hold on to something?”
For all his complaining, a little wound like that wouldn’t stop Blade Freakin’ Devon. Back on Aisso IV, he’d gotten up after being gut-shot, with a head wound, and taken out an armed patrol before they’d had a chance to get off the first shot…and he’d done it with a long knife and his bare hands.
“Keep your hands where they are.”
“Come on, Bo…” He shrugged, lifting his arms slightly. “This would be enough of a workout in standard gee, but you’re killing me here.”
She smiled. “This isn’t killing you,” she said. “This is making you suffer before I kill you. You’ll know when I kill you.”
“For the love of peace…” He shifted more of his weight to his good leg with a small hop.
Her smile faded and her shoulders tensed. Her weight moved to her back foot as she steeled herself to fire.
They eyed each other warily.
After a long moment, he tried a different tack. His lips parted in a charming smile and he shook his head. “I just want a ride, Bo.” His gaze traveled the length of her body like a lover’s caress. “I can make it worth your while.”
Her traitorous heart accelerated in response.
“I’m getting six hundred thousand for this job.”
“Six hundred thou…” he echoed in disbelief. “That’s pretty steep.”
“I’m The Barron.” She replied. “No bottom-feeder is going to be able to fly the gauntlet in and out of Akita. That’s Black Wing skill.” She canted her head at him. “I don’t like when someone breaks into my ship, and I don’t like you. So for you, this trip will cost you twice the going rate.”
He gaped. “One point two mill?” he said, incredulously. “For an extra passenger?”
“For an ex-husband.” She smiled, enjoying having the upper hand. “If you don’t like the price, you’re welcome to leave. I will be happy to escort you to the airlock.”
“We’re in hyperspace.”
She lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing.
He muttered under his breath and shook his head. “You’re a pirate, you know that?”
“You’re a stowaway. You’re lucky I only shot your leg. How did you get on my ship?”
“You want to know how I bypassed your security system and broke into your ship?” He waited for her nod. “Passage, Bo, that’s all I want. You give me what I want and I’ll give you what you want. That information alone is worth one point two mill to you.”
Her mouth tightened.
He was right, of course. The smug bastard was always right.
The gleam in his eyes said he knew it, too.
Her eyes narrowed. “You’ll be confined to quarters for most of the trip,” she said sharply. “You’re not getting off my ship until you tell me how you broke in. That is all I want from you. Do we understand each other?”
“Perfectly.”
She gestured with her blaster. “Up the steps, down the corridor, and head port.”
“We aren’t going to stop by sick bay?”
“No.”
“But I’ve been shot!”
“Port,” she said firmly.
She nodded toward the steps. He started to lower his hands.
“Hands on your head,” she ordered.
He growled in protest, but obeyed.
“Not my fault you’re getting old and flabby.”
“Flabby? Really?” He shook his head at the notion.
He wasn’t flabby by any stretch of the imagination.
From the look of him, he hadn’t slacked off on his workout routine at all in the last few years. In fact, if anything, he looked like he’d bulked up a little. The muscles that bulged under his prison issue jacket looked like molded fuseform.
Her gaze lingered on the grimy fabric stretched tight across his chest, clearly outlining every chiseled contour of his frame. Her mouth went dry at the thought of running her fingertips along each unyielding ridge and hollow.
Giving herself a sound mental shake, Bo sidestepped around him, never lowering her aim. He was still a dangerous Predator, and she would do well not to underestimate him, or lower her guard at all.
Limping along slowly, he favored his injured left leg. When he reached the steps, he looked back over his shoulder at her.
“I’m going to need my hands to get up the steps.”
Light glinted off the ring he wore on his left hand…his wedding ring.
It hit her like a punch to her solar plexus. Bo’s steps faltered.
What the hell was he doing still wearing that? He couldn’t have known she’d be breaking Nix out of Akita. She’d buy the coincidence of running into him during a prison break. Given who they were and what they did, she was surprised they hadn’t crossed paths before now. What didn’t make sense was that he was still wearing the ring from a marriage that had been nothing more than a sham.
“Bo? What’s wrong?”
Shaking herself out of her momentary shock, Bo reminded herself to breathe. She swallowed and licked her dry lips.
“Not your concern, flyboy.” Her voice sounded thin. She cleared her throat. “That ship broke grav a long time ago.”
He searched her face. “Did it really?”
His low voice wrapped around her like a gentle caress.
Oh hell! He was doing that thing again. Under his steady gaze, Bo fought to maintain eye contact. Instinct pushed her to look away or peer coyly at him through her lashes. He was pushing, looking for her to give something of her feelings for him away, some unguarded body language. She couldn’t afford to let him find a break in her defenses, or he’d be in her head again like a master puppeteer.
“What about my hands? Can I use the rail to haul myself up or not?”
Her gaze narrowed. She slowly nodded. “If you want to keep them, you’ll mind where you put them.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“One wrong move and I’ll…”
“Shoot me.” He grinned. “Yeah. I’m getting that.”
He looked entirely too pleased with himself.
Damn!
She’d given him something he could use.
He took hold of one of the hand rails. Instead of hauling himself up, he leaned on it and studied her.
“You know, this isn’t the first time you’ve shot me.”
Her lips twitched in amusement at the memory. “It’s the first time I ever meant it.”
His grin widened. “How was it?” His voice slipped down the register ever so slightly. “Was it good for you?”
Between the innuendo and his hungry gaze, her nerve endings lit up. Parts of her that she didn’t want to acknowledge ached for his touch.
Bo squelched the sudden burst of excitement. He was only pulling on her string to see if he could make her dance.
Not this time.
“Look at you, finishing early…again.” She raked him with a scathing look. “I’m just getting started.”
“Ouch.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “You want me to shoot your other leg?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll pass. You know me. I’m only good for one round and then I’m out like a light.”
That’s not the way she remembered it.
To her annoyance, her face heated as the color rose in her cheeks.
“Then I suggest you get your ass up the steps,” she said brusquely. She hoped to get him moving before he noticed…
A look of pure male satisfaction spr
ead across his face. “There it is,” he said softly, the timbre of his voice dropped lower. “I never get tired of making you blush.”
If it had been any other man smiling at her like that, she’d never have doubted the sincerity of his affection. Blade, however, was a master of manipulation, and he knew exactly how to use every milligram of his considerable charm to get what he wanted.
“I’m holding a blaster,” she reminded him.
“We both know you’re not going to use it again unless I do something incredibly stupid.”
“Provoking me like this is pretty stupid.”
“You were angry and emotional,” he said. “You lost your temper and shot me. You’re in complete control of yourself now.”
Bo shook her head. “You think you know everything.”
“I know you,” he said. “I feel what you feel, remember? My heartbeat has already synced with yours.” He held out his hand to her. “Feel for yourself.”
She snorted in derision and stepped back a couple of paces.
“What do you take me for? I’m insulted that you would think I’d be stupid enough to come within arm’s reach of you. I know your tricks, Devon. I don’t trust you within a parsec of me.”
He studied her a moment. “You don’t, do you?” He withdrew his hand. “You don’t trust yourself either.”
The web of seduction spinning in the air around them vanished like a puff of smoke in the wind.
Abruptly, he turned and hauled himself up the steps. “Let’s go, then. You need to lock me into quarters so you can put yourself in stasis. Give yourself a dose of anti-inflammatories and muscle relaxers first, or the stasis won’t do you a bit of good. Your back is pretty tight.”
Disconcerted by his mercurial shift, her brow furrowed. She followed him up the steps at a wary distance. “How…”
At the top of the steps, he returned his hands to his head and waited for her. “I spent a year studying with Tahar at the temple on Mount Jihat. I became a priest. If you want, I can help you sleep.”
Bo missed a step. “A priest? You?”
“Lahtrecki orders don’t practice celibacy,” he said with a smile.
“It’s a wonder the Maker hasn’t struck you down where you stand.”
He clucked in disapproval. “So judgmental, Bo.”
“I’m just starting to lose track of all your hobbies.” She waved him into motion with her blaster.
With a shrug, he limped down the corridor toward the port steps. “A man’s got to do something to pass the time while he waits for his wife to take him back.”
“Try holding your breath.”
“I did that,” he said. At the bottom of the steps, he reached for the hand rails and grinned at her over his shoulder. “I kept passing out.” Without waiting for her response, he hauled himself up.
Bo shook her head and bit back a smile as he hopped up the steps. Maker help her, the only reason she’d managed to stay angry with him for so long was because he hadn’t been around. She’d never been able to hold on to her ire under the full force of his irrepressible charm. That was what made him so damn dangerous.
When they reached the crew’s quarters in the port corridor, the hatch slid open in silent invitation. With a jerk of her head, Bo indicated that he enter. He peered into the compartment, then met her expectant stare with a lopsided grin.
“There aren’t any facilities in there,” he observed softly, dropping his tone again. “What do I do when nature calls?”
Blood rushed to her erogenous zones.
Holy Maker! He’d disarmed her with his charm and then gone in for the killing stroke. She needed to get away from him before she threw herself at him bodily.
“Tell Sundance,” she replied tersely. “I will escort you to and from the lav.”
He nodded. “And what about…mealtimes?”
“I’m not playing this game with you, Blade.”
“What game?”
The mischievous gleam in his eye belied his innocent tone. Only Blade Devon could carry on as though he were completely in control of the situation when facing incarceration at the hands of an angry ex.
“I’ll bring you ship’s rations,” she replied softly, mimicking his tone. “When you hear the signal, back over to that bulkhead and…put your hands on your head. If you are anywhere else and your hands are anywhere else, I will shoot you.”
He didn’t look worried. If anything, he looked amused.
“What if I have a bad dream in the middle of the night?” he asked, warming to the banter. “Will you comfort me?” He leaned slightly toward her. “Can I get in bed with you?”
Her chest tightened at the memory of him crowding into her bunk. She tamped down the surge of excitement. The air between them fairly crackled with sexual tension.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Bad dreams or no, if you want to arrive at Chiron with all your parts intact, I suggest you keep to your own rack. Let’s get one thing clear, now. I don’t want you. I don’t need you. If you come near me, I’ll kill you.”
“You say that now…,” he said with a self-deprecating smile.
Bo didn’t reply. She simply raised one eyebrow expectantly and nodded toward the compartment. He glanced inside, but made no move to enter.
“I won’t be able to sleep.” He searched her face. “I’ll be thinking about you, lying in your bunk, naked, on the other side of the bulkhead.”
Her lips parted with a wicked smile. “Enjoy your little fantasy, because that’s all we ever were.” She took a step back. “Get in.”
“No medipak for my wounded leg?”
“I can always give you a matched pair.”
He sighed. With no other option, he reluctantly limped into his quarters. Hands on his head, he turned to face her. “Can I at least have a goodnight kiss?” His eyes settled briefly on her mouth.
Her breath caught and before she could stop herself, she lightly chewed on her bottom lip.
“One innocent little kiss?” he coaxed.
Damn the man! He’d made his choice, and it hadn’t been her. It had never been her.
She lifted an eyebrow. “Since when do you ask?”
By way of an answer, he glanced briefly at the blaster in her hand, then met her stare once more.
“You know I could take that from you,” he said.
A half smile lifted one corner of her mouth. “You could certainly try,” she purred. “But I don’t think you’re that stupid.”
“I take it that’s a no to the kiss, then?”
“Good night, Agent Devon,” she said.
A genuine smile quirked his lips. “For the record, Bo, I’m not your ex-husband. Kah Lahtrec doesn’t recognize divorce.”
“Everyone recognizes a widow.” She stepped back. “Seal him up, Sundance.”
The hatch hissed shut. Bo relaxed her aim.
There went her plans to spend the rest of the trip in stasis. This trip just got a whole lot more interesting.
A small smile touched her lips. She tapped her command codes into the locking panel beside the hatch.
Damn, if she wasn’t the teeniest bit happy to see him.
CHAPTER FOUR
Blade’s smile faded and he lowered his hands. The access panel beside the hatch hummed as the indicator flickered from green to red.
Of course.
He knew it wouldn’t help, but he rubbed his throbbing thigh anyway.
He had lost her trust a long time ago. He hadn’t really doubted that she’d lock him in. He was a trained assassin. Only a fool would give him free run of the ship.
Bo may be brash and daring, bold and confident in her skills, but she was no fool. Confining him to quarters was the prudent thing to do.
Not that it would do her any good.
His gaze flicked over the gray compartment. Four bunks in all, stacked two on either side, contained by a cramped locker at each end of the bunks. Reaching out, he took hold of the edges of the upper bunks. The ache in his
thigh eased only marginally.
He’d half expected her to lock him into the mate’s quarters in the starboard corridor across from her own. She hadn’t intended it this way, but isolating him on the port side of the ship made escape easier. Blade’s grip on the bunks tightened.
Lifting an eyebrow, he glanced at the bulkhead.
He hadn’t been lying. He would obsess over the fact that less than a meter separated them. Bulkhead be damned, even now his pulse thumped in rhythm with hers. He was so attuned to her prenaha – her life force – that without even trying, he could sense where she was within the ship at any given moment, and her emotional state was as tangible to him as his own.
They belonged together. She knew it, too, whether she was willing to admit it to herself or not. That’s why she was still so angry with him.
Pushing away from the bunks, Blade tested the stability of his wounded leg. As far as injuries went, it wasn’t serious – just painful. Breathing through the pain, he compartmentalized it as Tahar had taught him. It receded. But his leg still needed treatment.
What a mess. He had to make things right with Bo. He had to…or die trying, which, knowing her, was a distinct possibility.
It had taken everything in him to not take that damn blaster away from her and kiss her until her knees buckled. He wasn’t so clueless to believe that, given the current state of their marriage, it was anything remotely like a good idea. He would just have to be patient.
He would have to remind her why she fell in love with him in the first place.
His lips twisted in a sardonic smile.
He should also see about reversing gravity and finding a stable wormhole to an alternate universe while he was at it. Both were equally impossible, but still more likely than convincing her to give their marriage another chance.
“Sundance, I’ve been wearing the same clothes for a week and I need a shower,” he said.
“May I suggest the autovalet, sir?”
Blade nodded. “You may, but I don’t think I need to show up on Chiron dressed like an escaped inmate. You wouldn’t happen to know if I might find anything in storage, would you?
“Commander Barron has stored your belongings in the hold in cargo compartment two.”
“She has?”
“Yes, sir.”
He let that information sink in.