His rich voice was even better in person, and my worry melted away. “I missed you, too. I’m glad you’re here.”
He stepped back with a secret smile. “I brought you a present.”
I glanced at his empty hands uneasily. Whatever he’d brought had to be small. Was it a ring? Terror and longing fought for dominance.
Valentin’s smile turned into a laugh. “It’s not what you’re thinking,” he assured me with a wink. “Not yet.”
“Then what is it?”
“I left it in the ship. Come with me and I’ll show you.”
I couldn’t help the grin. “You know that sounds like a bad pickup line, right?”
His smile turned wicked. “That wasn’t what I meant, but I could show you that, too, if you’d like.”
Heat spiraled through me. I would like that. I let myself imagine it for a second before returning to responsibility. “Later,” I promised. “For now, I want to see the inside of this ship. Is it a prototype?”
“Something like that.” He turned to Luka. “Stay here and keep Ari company.”
Luka’s scowl got fiercer and a muscle flexed in his jaw, but he remained silent and nodded curtly. I figured this wasn’t the first time Valentin had run this plan by him.
Ari was more vocal. “I’m not staying behind while you take Queen Rani on a foreign ship—especially not one capable of defeating our sensors.” She was being excruciatingly formal and her tone had a chilly bite. She hadn’t forgiven Valentin for his little stunt earlier.
Valentin swept his arm toward the ship. “You’re welcome aboard, of course.”
Ari grunted her agreement, and I hid a smile. That grunt meant she wanted to argue, but Valentin had taken all of the wind out of her sails with his easy acquiescence.
Valentin guided me toward the ship. Luka and Ari fell in behind us, silent, grumpy shadows. We climbed the ramp and entered the cargo bay.
“Welcome to Ardia,” Valentin said.
The inside of the ship was as beautifully built as the outside, even here where most ships were bare and utilitarian. The walls were sculpted metal and the floor had been etched to resemble wooden planks. A staircase with a banister of what looked like real wood led to the upper levels of the ship. The understated elegance on display meant this ship was ridiculously expensive.
“Are you replacing Korax?” I asked. “Did Asmo’s family bribe you with this ship to lighten his sentence?” Asmo Copley was one of Valentin’s former advisors—one who’d betrayed him. Copley Heavy Industries was one of the largest shipbuilding companies in the Kos Empire. If anyone could build this ship, they could.
Valentin’s expression hardened at the mention of Asmo. “No, I’m not replacing Korax and if the Copleys tried it, I’d lock up the whole family. They know they’re on thin ice.” He glanced at Ari. “Would you mind waiting here? I promise I’m not going to harm Samara, but I’d like to give her the present in private, please.”
Ari looked set to argue until I glared at her. She linked me instead. Shout the second anything seems strange.
Do you really believe Valentin is going to try anything, after all we’ve been through?
She wrinkled her nose at me. No, she admitted, but caution is prudent.
Noted. Don’t kill Luka before I get back.
No promises.
I closed the link just as Ari said, in her grumpiest voice, “Fine, but don’t be too long.”
Valentin inclined his head in agreement and offered me his hand. I slipped my hand into his, and the butterflies took wing once again.
He led me upstairs to Ardia’s main level. In the corridor, the walls and ceiling were lined with color-changing panels—another incredible expense. The panels currently displayed a soft gradient that started with yellows and oranges at the bottom and transitioned through to pale blue at the ceiling. The effect made the hallway seem like it was bathed in sunset. A fraction more color and it would’ve been too much, but the soft pastels worked perfectly.
This wasn’t a random computer generation; this had been designed by an artist with an excellent eye.
Valentin had stopped and turned to watch me as I stared at the panels, mesmerized. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought the colors were ever-so-slowly changing, like a real sunset.
“This is lovely,” I murmured. “Completely unnecessary, but lovely.”
“I thought you might like it.” He tilted his head, considering me. “May I kiss you?”
The simmering desire I’d been feeling blazed brighter. He waited with quiet patience as my gaze tracked across his face. If not for the heat in his eyes and the tense line of his jaw, I’d think he was completely uninterested in my answer.
Rather than answer, I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and gently pulled his face down to mine. Our lips met and my eyes slid closed. His lips were warm and firm as they ghosted across mine, once, twice. He made a low sound in the back of his throat, and the kiss changed from light and teasing to hot and heavy. Fiery pleasure sent my blood fizzing through my veins.
Valentin was warm and solid and here. There hadn’t been another attack after I’d left Koan, a worry I’d carried every day for two weeks. I put all of the feelings I couldn’t yet admit into the kiss and he groaned again.
This felt like home.
By the time we pulled apart, I had forgotten all worries about awkwardness. His expression was fierce with desire, and I wanted nothing more than to drag him into the nearest bedroom and have my way with him. But Luka and Ari were waiting in the cargo bay.
I thumped my head against his shoulder in frustration and breathed in the warm smell of cloth heated by his body. “Do you think Ari and Luka would leave if we asked them?”
Valentin wrapped his arms around me and ran a soothing hand down my back. “Thanks to my entrance, I feel like maybe I’m not Ari’s favorite person right now, so, no, I don’t think so.” His tone was rueful, but I could hear the smile.
“Then I suppose the personal tour of the bedroom will have to wait.”
Valentin’s arms tightened as I straightened. “On second thought,” he said with a grin, “Ari and Luka will definitely leave.”
I laughed and brushed a light kiss across his mouth. “Show me my present.”
“Do you want to see the rest of the ship first?” At my nod, his grin turned sly. “The captain’s quarters are nearby. Should we start there?”
My grin matched his. “Perhaps we should leave the best for last.”
Valentin’s hands flexed against my back, but he drew away and swept an arm toward a door on the port side of the hallway. “Then let’s start in the guest quarters.”
We toured the rest of the ship, and the more I saw, the more I wondered why he had acquired it if he wasn’t planning to replace Korax. Every detail was exquisitely perfect. Ardia had been lovingly designed by someone with piles of money and excellent taste. I started making mental notes for the ship I still needed to order to replace Invictia. I couldn’t afford a fraction of the elegance of this ship, but there were a few things I could do to get a similar effect for less money.
By the time we stopped outside the captain’s quarters, I was desperate to see the design. So when Valentin opened the door, I immediately swept past him into the room, only to freeze in place.
The walls were a familiar pale gold, and a big bed dominated a room that was strikingly, heartbreakingly familiar. This room was a near perfect—but larger—replica of my quarters on Invictia.
Chapter Two
“Do you like it?” Valentin asked quietly from somewhere behind me.
It took two tries before I could swallow past the lump in my throat and force the words out. “What is this?”
I heard him shift. “It’s not perfect, but I tried to get it as close as I could remember. I know nothing will ever replace Invictia, and I’m so fucking sorry you lost your ship because of me. But I’m hoping that you’ll accept Ardia as a poor replacement.” He paused, then tacked on, �
��Surprise.”
That did surprise a half laugh, half sob out of me. I looked around the room with vision gone watery. It wasn’t an exact replica, but it was such a close match that Valentin must’ve personally specified every detail from memory—and he’d only been on my ship once.
In the soft sunset light still streaming in through the open door to the hall, it was incredibly, unimaginably perfect, and I wanted it more than I’d ever wanted almost anything.
But it was far, far too much.
This ship would easily buy four or five ships of Invictia’s caliber—and that was before you added whatever special stealth technology the ship had.
The door swished closed as Valentin moved farther into the room. He stopped in front of me, expression shuttered. He gently touched my damp cheek. “I apologize. I just thought…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re welcome to pick whatever ship you like, of course. It doesn’t have to be this one.”
“It’s perfect,” I admitted softly. “I love everything about it. But I can’t possibly acc—”
Valentin interrupted me. “If you don’t accept, then Ardia will sit, unused, in a berth somewhere. I already told you that I’m not replacing Korax, and I won’t sell Ardia. I had this ship trimmed out just for you, so you’d be doing me—and the ship—a favor by accepting.”
I arched an eyebrow, back on firmer ground and glad that he hadn’t made a big deal of my tears. “Are you trying to guilt me into accepting a ship?”
He grinned at me. “Yes. Is it working?”
I had to laugh at his shameless honesty. “Maybe.”
“Do you want to see the bridge before you decide to mothball poor Ardia for the foreseeable future?”
I wavered, torn. If I saw the bridge, the ship would be as good as mine. My ability to be selfless only extended so far, and the rest of the ship, plus this room, had already stretched it to the breaking point.
“It’s got all of the latest technology, plus a few surprises,” Valentin tempted.
I paced across the plush rug—an upgrade from the worn one I’d had on Invictia. “You’re not playing fair.”
“No, I’m playing to win. You deserve a ship even nicer than this one, but I worked with what I could on a limited timeline.”
“When did you order it?” I asked, looking at him.
“Right after the attack on Invictia,” he admitted.
“That was before I left Koan!”
“I did tell you that I had some ship designs in mind.”
“You also told me that it was my choice.”
“It absolutely is. If you truly don’t like Ardia, I’ll buy you whatever you want. But if you’re just declining because you think it’s too nice, then I’m going to try to persuade you to keep it, by whatever means necessary. One benefit of being emperor is plenty of money. I’ve started giving it away fast enough to give my advisors gray hair, but let me be selfish and do this for you.”
His expression told me that he was deadly serious. If I didn’t like this ship, he would buy me something else. At the height of my career as the Golden Dahlia, I’d made very good money. Death was an expensive business, and I’d used my proceeds to buy Invictia. But even after I’d had the money, I’d agonized for months over the design, sometimes going so far as to price out individual parts.
Being able to buy multiple ships at the drop of a hat, one of them marvelously expensive, was a level of wealth that was so far out of my normal that I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Even when the Rogue Coalition was running at peak performance we couldn’t just buy ships willy-nilly.
Valentin frowned. “What?”
“What are you doing with me?”
His frown deepened. “What do you mean?”
“You can buy all of this,” I waved an arm around to indicate everything in the ship, “and I’m a former assassin turned rebel queen who almost let her people starve to death. We could not be more different. Why me? Why not some princess or the daughter of an industry titan. Someone more suited to your life.”
I had plenty of self-confidence in most areas of my life, thanks to hard lessons learned well and a driving need for self-reliance, but relationships were not one. I knew I had many amazing qualities, but I had even more glaring flaws and liabilities. I wouldn’t date me.
Valentin’s expression smoothed out into a blank mask. It was somehow worse than the frown. “Do you really think I’m that shallow?”
I’d hurt him. I hadn’t meant to, but that was irrelevant. “No, of course not. I didn’t choose my words with care. I apologize. I’m the one who’s lacking here, not you.”
“I wasn’t raised to be Emperor. If anyone is lacking, it’s me, but do you know what I see when I look at you?” he asked, mask still firmly in place.
I shook my head and refused to drop my eyes, even though I didn’t want to look at him while he laid me bare.
“I see strength, resilience. Caring, self-sacrifice, and love.” My lips parted in surprise, but he wasn’t done. “I also see cunning intelligence and fierce protectiveness.” He cupped my face and smoothed a thumb across my cheekbone. “Your life wasn’t easy, but it shaped you into the woman you are now, and I like you just as you are.”
His words pierced me, not with the hurt I’d feared, but with the strength of his care. Standing in this room, on this ship, the enormity of that care crashed into me. Valentin Kos, emperor of half the known universe, was here for me—and he wasn’t leaving.
I tipped my face up to his, and he met me halfway. His lips ghosted over mine, and I lost myself in the pleasure of the kiss. The pieces fell into place. Valentin had already slipped past my emotional defenses.
He was mine.
I drew back with a surprised inhale. For the last couple of weeks, I’d been subconsciously holding back, waiting for him to come to his senses, waiting for his interest to be revealed as a huge cosmic joke. But I was half of this relationship, and if I wanted it to work, I had to fight for it.
I always fought for what was mine.
My doubts settled as they always did when I had a plan and a path forward. There would still be occasional issues—no plan was perfect—but I felt more grounded. And I excelled at modifying plans in motion.
I kissed Valentin again, a quick brush of my lips against his.
“What was that for?”
“That was an apology for being an ass. Thank you for the ship. I love it more than you could possibly know. Show me the bridge before I forget Ari and Luka are waiting for us in the cargo bay.”
Valentin’s eyes softened before a playful grin tilted up one corner of his mouth. “If we take long enough, maybe they’ll get bored and leave.”
“Or barge in and interrupt.”
His laugh echoed around the room. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
The bridge was just as amazing as the rest of the ship. Glass and metal surfaces gleamed under the soft lighting. At Valentin’s urging, I sank into the deeply padded captain’s chair, and the console in front of me lit with a beautiful blue glow.
“Welcome, Captain Rani,” the ship greeted in the best impersonation of a masculine human voice I’d ever heard. It was uncanny.
“Thank you,” I murmured instinctively.
“You’re welcome. Please let me know if you need anything. I currently answer to Ardia. Would you like to change my name?”
“No, thank you.”
The ship chimed an acceptance and fell silent.
“That’s not a normal ship computer.”
Valentin laughed. “No, it’s not. I did tell you that I had a few more surprises for you. Ardia—the ship’s computer—is one of them. It’s the latest artificial intelligence assistant. The more you use it, the more it will learn your habits and preferences. It also has a full Kos military module and can control the ship’s offenses, defenses, and flight during hostile maneuvers.”
“Is it any good?”
Valentin’s teeth flashed in a fierce smile. “
Yes.”
My fingers itched to launch the ship into the sky, to see how well it handled, but I resisted the temptation. I wanted my first flight to be when Valentin and I could be alone—then we could christen the ship properly.
I stood and wrapped my arms around Valentin, drawing him into a tight hug. “Thank you,” I whispered into his chest.
His arms settled around me, returning my embrace. “You’re welcome.”
I enjoyed the simple pleasure of the hug before I pulled back enough that I could see Valentin’s face. “Should we see if Luka and Ari are still alive?”
He reluctantly let me go. “If we must.”
“We must. But nothing’s stopping us from returning later tonight for a private flight. Just the two of us. Assuming you can get away from your overprotective shadow.”
“I’ll make it happen,” Valentin promised, his eyes full of heat.
I nodded in silent agreement and led him back to the cargo bay. Despite my concern, Ari and Luka were chatting comfortably. Well, Ari was chatting and Luka was listening. Once I got close, I realized Ari was telling him about how Imogen had waded into a drunken fistfight between two men twice her size and came out without so much as a single bruise.
I couldn’t decide if the story was designed to be a warning or an enticement, but Luka was listening avidly—or as avid as I’d ever seen him, which meant his scowl was barely visible.
A mischievous smile tipped up the corner of Ari’s mouth. “Imogen has an undefeated record against all opponents in friendly bouts. Even our illustrious queen gave it a go and Imogen didn’t break a sweat.”
In a friendly match, Imogen could—and did—kick my ass. We were evenly matched in strength and speed, and I couldn’t put her down without seriously hurting her. So I’d lost our bout, much to everyone’s delight. But in a true fight, the odds shifted. I had more experience fighting dirty and enough moral gray area to use every advantage available. If I’d been fighting for my life, the fight would’ve been over in seconds with a very different outcome.
The Queen’s Triumph (Rogue Queen) Page 2