by Anna Hackett
“Why do I get the impression you plan to leave bruises?” he said.
She gave him a sharp smile. “Are you afraid, barbarian?”
He lifted his staff. “Never.”
She took him through some basic moves. It wasn’t complicated, but it was different, compared to using a sword.
“Good.” She brushed her damp hair from her face. “Not bad.”
Colm pressed his tongue to his teeth. “How about a challenge? The winner can demand a boon from the other.”
She looked uncertain.
“If you’re afraid—” He shrugged and lowered his staff.
She put her hands on her hips. “I’m not six years old, Colm. That won’t work on me.”
He smiled.
“Damn you.” She shook her head “Fine. If you win, what do you want?”
“A kiss.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s it?”
“Yes, but you have to kiss me with no inhibitions, no holding back.”
She looked away, nibbling on her lower lip, which made Colm’s cock twitch.
She looked up. “Fine.” She swung her staff up, tightening her grip on it and widening her stance. “Do you want to know what I want if I win?”
He lifted his staff. “No. Because I’m going to win.”
She bristled like a darken beast. “Because you’re a big, bad barbarian and I’m just a woman?”
“No. Because I really want that kiss.”
He saw a blush of heat in her cheeks.
With a growl, she stepped toward him, and slammed her staff against his. He moved, and they circled around. She came at him again. She was packing her hits with all her strength.
And dammit, she was making him work for it.
They parried a bit longer, staffs smacking together, feet shuffling across the mats. Finally, Colm saw his chance.
He stepped back, leaving himself open. An invitation she couldn’t ignore. As soon as she lunged at him, he brought his staff up and knocked hers from her grip.
He saw her grit her teeth for a second. “You tricked me!”
“Did you think warriors were all just power and brawn?”
“No. But I didn’t think you were quite so cunning.”
“Ah, but with the right incentive…”
She released a long breath, then she strode forward. Without a word, she pressed her hands to his chest and leaned up on her toes.
Then she pressed her mouth against his.
It was like electricity through his body. She moved her lips softly, almost delicately over his.
“More,” he growled. His hands clamped on her hips.
Then the kiss ignited.
Colm groaned and wrapped his arms around her. She made a husky sound in her throat, and then she was practically trying to climb up his body. The kiss deepened, tongues tangling.
He dropped to his knees, pulling her close against him until they were plastered together. He wanted to devour every inch of her, strip her naked, spread her thighs, and plunge inside her. He felt like a rutting beast with the scent of a female in heat. The urges pounded inside him like nothing he’d ever felt before.
Then she tore her mouth from his, panting. She pulled away, falling back on the mat. His own chest was rising and falling very fast.
She cursed under her breath, pressing a hand to her lips.
Colm fought for control. He’d perfected control during his warrior training, made it his life’s work to never, ever let his nanami get out of control.
To not be what his father had been.
And right now, he was riding the edge of it.
“Not the usual response I get from a woman,” he said, managing to keep his tone light.
She stood. “You’re a problem, barbarian. One I don’t need. I have to go.” She hesitated.
Colm fought the urge to grab her and pull her back in for a kiss.
But maybe she was right. With his nanami going crazy the way they were, it might be best to limit his exposure to Honor Brandall.
She tightened the tail of her hair. “Be ready for your first trip into space, warrior. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She left him there, and Colm remained on his knees for a long time, his body buzzing and agitated.
***
Colm walked toward the large ship sitting out in the field.
By the Great Warrior. Its silver hull gleamed dully in the sunlight. It was called the Drake, named for some long ago Earth explorer. Colm hefted his leather bag onto his shoulder and tried to find his adventurous spirit.
He’d much prefer his hargon beast beneath him and his sword in his hand.
Kavon, along with a small group of warriors, Niklas Phoenix, Nera Darc, and their team, had already left for the Darken Wilds. After their mission to the shipwreck, they were planning to transfer to the larger ship—the Magellan—that was still in orbit to scan the northern reaches of Markaria. Nik still believed a starship wreck could be hidden under the snow.
That left Colm to work with Honor on scanning the moons.
Inside, he wasn’t feeling his usual warrior calm. He was equal parts unsettled and eager about a trip to the stars.
And it wasn’t just about going into space. It was because of the woman he’d be with.
She’d haunted his dreams. A golden-haired, warrior-woman riding him, loving him with a wild passion.
There was heat in her. He sensed it. Felt it. She’d given him a taste of it, and then locked it up tight. He wasn’t sure why his little warrior denied it so hard.
His steps slowed and he heaved out a breath. But he wasn’t sure if dancing with Honor was a good thing anymore. He wanted her, but he was worried she could be the one thing that threatened his control.
And if his control broke…
No. He was a warrior. His jaw tightened. And right now, he had a job to do for his warlord.
When he reached the bottom of a ramp at the side of the ship, the door at the top slid open.
Honor was waiting for him. She was wearing another neatly pressed uniform.
“Good morning,” she said.
He nodded, letting one fist curl. He wanted to touch that golden hair, stroke her soft cheek. “Good morning, Agent Brandall.” He paused beside her, the inch of space between them filling with tension. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes. Like a baby.”
The little liar. He could see the shadows under her eyes. “Really? I didn’t.”
Her gaze flicked up.
He leaned his head a little closer. “I dreamed of you, sitting astride me, riding me hard.”
She sucked in a breath. “Warrior Mal Kor, we have work to do.”
“And we’ll do it. Me telling you the truth won’t stop that.”
“You are so stubborn.”
“Determined.”
She stepped back and waved him inside. “No argument there. Come on, I’ll show you the cabin where you can leave your bag, and then give you a quick tour.”
As they navigated a sleek corridor, Colm noted the gleaming metal, sharp edges, and slick feel to the ship. It was nothing like the ragged furs, rough stone and open spaces of Markaria.
They passed some more uniformed people. He recognized Dr. Lev’nan and Agent Wu. Honor introduced him to the others. More astro-archeologists and different types of scientists. Scholars. He was interested to see a few with scale-like skin, and another with skin of a pale blue.
“This is our library.” She waved her hand to the doorway. Colm saw a compact room with many books lined on shelves, several flat screens he guessed were computers, and a large flat table.
“You enjoy history?” he asked.
She nodded. “I’ve always studied combat, but I minored in astro-archeology at the academy where I studied. I’ve always been fascinated by history, I guess because of my homeworld.”
He detected something wistful and a little sad in her voice. “I cannot imagine losing my world. My people are connected to Markaria, f
or all its harsh landscapes and wild beasts.”
She smiled. “It’s silly, really. I don’t even remember Predia.” She stopped at a door. “Here you go.” She pressed a palm to a plate on the wall and the door slid open.
Inside, was a small room with a large bed, built-in desk and an adjoining room he guessed was for washing. He set his bag down. The cabin smelled of cleaning products and steel. He fought a grimace.
When he turned, he breathed in and smelled Honor’s spicy scent.
As they stepped back into the corridor, Colm detected a faint trace of Honor’s scent farther down the corridor. Without thinking, he followed it.
“Hey, warrior, where are you going?”
He pressed his palm to a door lock and it opened. Inside, the cabin was much the same as his, but a mirror image. The bed was neatly made, no clothes strewn anywhere, and the tantalizing scent of Honor was strong.
He strode in. He saw two crossed wooden staffs on the wall above the bed. They looked old, the center grips wrapped in faded red fabric. He spied a framed picture beside the bed.
“Barbarian,” she growled. “How about you get out of my cabin?”
He picked up the frame and studied the image. An older man stood to one side, his arm around a smiling Honor. On her other side were two tall men with short hair and rugged faces. The resemblance between them all was remarkable.
“Your family?”
“Yes.” She snatched the frame and set it down. “My father and brothers. They’re all soldiers in the GSS—Galactic Security Services.”
Colm tilted his head. “Why are you not part of this GSS?”
“My father asks me that every time I speak to him.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sure you won’t understand, but I don’t like to kill. I wanted to use my skills to protect, plus I love history, so working security for the Institute suits me far better than the military.”
Colm paused for a moment. “That makes perfect sense.”
Her mouth opened, closed. “No comment on me being too soft? Not having a killer instinct?”
He guessed she’d heard those accusations before. He lowered his voice. “Honor, I saw you use that sword and I saw you fight the raiders. I think your instincts, killer or not, are fine.”
She stared at him. “You just keep surprising and confusing me, warrior.”
He smiled. “Good.” He was going to taste Honor Brandall before she left his world, his own control issues be damned. “I have something for you.”
“Oh?”
“A gift.” He held out the package he’d had in his bag.
She eyed it like it might bite her.
“Does no one give you gifts?”
“No one I work with.”
She was a prickly thing. “It is Markarian tradition for leaders from different clans to offer a gift at the beginning of a working alliance.”
“Oh.” She took it and opened the thin, paper wrapping. Her eyes widened. “Oh!”
The gauntlets were smaller versions of the ones she’d admired at the arena. He’d paid a small fortune for the artisan to finish them quickly. It meant they weren’t richly decorated, just a few swirling engravings in the deep-brown leather. But Colm decided they suited Honor better that way.
She stroked them, a look of want on her face, and it went straight to Colm’s cock. He shifted.
She looked up. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“It is tradition on Markaria to seal a working deal with a kiss.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Markarian warriors kiss when they work together?”
“No. They do a warrior’s shake, but since you have not passed the Way of the Warrior, you are not considered a warrior.” He smiled as she scowled. “No matter how well you can swing a sword or staff.”
“Fine.” She went up on her toes, pressing one hand to his chest.
He felt the burn of that touch, felt the sweet warmth of her. She pressed her lips to his. One fleeting brush. Then she pulled back.
He saw the heat flickering in her eyes. “Kiss me again, Honor.”
“I shouldn’t. I think you’re dangerous. You warriors should come with a warning.”
“You aren’t a coward. What if I promise to keep my hands at my sides?”
“No.”
“Kiss me,” he coaxed. “One more time.”
She was still and silent, her gaze on his. Then slowly, so incredibly slowly, she leaned forward.
She nipped at his bottom lip, then deepened the kiss.
Colm groaned. She did, too, and suddenly the kiss turned into something wild and out of control. Colm’s nails bit into his skin as he fought not to break his word and grab her.
She threw her arms around his neck, her body plastered to his. She made hungry sounds, and Colm poured his frustration and desire into the kiss.
“Agent Brandall, prep for take-off is going well. Twenty minutes.”
The voice made them jerk apart. The sound was coming from the small badge attached to Honor’s heaving chest.
She stepped back and he watched as her face turned serious. She touched the badge. “Thank you, Wu. We’ll be there shortly.” She looked back at Colm. “Thank you for these.” She set the gauntlets on her bed. “Now, let me quickly show you the rest of the ship and we’ll get up to the cockpit for take-off.”
Chapter Six
Honor tried to calm the trembling, hungry feeling in her belly.
A hunger for one thing.
One man.
Colm strode beside her, taking up most of the corridor. He was looking around, absorbing everything about the ship.
She really wished he’d been the all brawn-no brains warrior she’d assumed when she’d first arrived on Markaria. She thought of the gauntlets in her cabin. He was proving to have far more depth, and cunning, than she’d given him credit for.
“Here’s the ship’s gym. I know our scanning trip won’t be long, but you’re welcome to use it if you wish.”
He stepped inside, eyeing it all. “This is where you train?”
“Yes. Sparring, hand-to-hand. We also have machines for exercise and muscle-building.”
He made a grunting sound, which she took to mean he wasn’t that impressed about exercising with a machine.
She moved over to the line of spar-droids resting in the rack on the wall. “These are special spar-droids. You can program them to spar with you at different levels of intensity and several hundred different combat methods from around the galaxy.”
She hit the button and the first droid moved out. It was shaped like a humanoid but had no legs, just floated a meter off the ground.
Colm raised a brow. “That can fight?”
“Yes. Droid, activate program brandall-alpha-seven.”
The droid shot forward with a hard-driving punch at Honor. She was ready to block it when something slashed down fast between her and the droid.
Colm’s sword split the droid in two. It fell to the mats in a sparking mass of broken metal and wires.
She stared at it, open-mouthed. “Uh, warrior, you weren’t supposed to kill it.”
Colm slid his sword back into his scabbard. “It was trying to hurt you.”
“It’s a machine, Colm. It was doing exactly what I asked it to do. I spar with these things all the time.”
A flush of dull color hit his cheekbones. “I am not sorry.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, this was my fault. I’ll have someone fix—” she eyed the destroyed droid again “—er, throw it in the trash.”
“Hoo, what happened here?”
Honor closed her eyes and prayed for patience. She faced the newcomer. “Darzan. Ah, nothing. The droid apparently doesn’t have a warrior setting. This is Warrior Colm Mal Kor. Colm, this is Agent Wade Darzan, a new member of our security team.”
Darzan looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Yeah, sorry, these droids don’t come with a simple, low-tech setting.” The man was enunciating his words like he was talking to a child
.
Honor frowned at him. What did he think he was doing? They’d all been briefed that the Markarian language was very similar to English.
“That’s what you’re used to here, right, barbarian?” Darzan finished.
Honor stiffened. “Agent Darzan, you’re out of line.”
Beside her, Colm stayed relaxed. He held up a hand. “I don’t fight machines, no. I fight wild darken beasts and other men my size.” Colm eyed Darzan’s shorter, more slender body.
Darzan went stiff. “I’m a trained security agent…I know more about combat than you’ll ever be able to dream about.” He pulled his laser pistol out. “You might wear fur and have a big, old-fashioned sword, but you’re no match for this baby.” Darzan aimed his weapon at Colm’s chest and smiled. “I could kill you in a second.”
Colm moved so fast he was a blur. His wristbands glinted in the overhead lights as he grabbed the laser pistol. A twist of his hands and it crumpled. He dropped it onto the mats.
Darzan goggled. “That’s my weapon! You can’t—”
“Would you like to challenge me?” Colm’s voice was low and silky. “On Markaria, we have challenges to the death. Just you and me in an arena…only one walks out alive.”
“Ah…” Darzan’s complexion suddenly looked green. He glanced at Honor, his eyes pleading.
She crossed her arms. She wasn’t helping him out here.
“You can even bring your weapons.” Colm dusted the last of the crushed stunner pieces off his hands.
“No…I…”
“Agent Darzan, you pulled a weapon on a guest for no reason.” Honor kept her tone as cool as she could, but anger was vibrating through her. “I will be reporting your inappropriate conduct to Darc. You’ve been rude to Warrior Mal Kor. What do you think Darc’s going to say about that? Scratch that, she won’t say anything. What do you think she’ll do?”
Darzan’s face paled more.
“And what do you have to say to Warrior Mal Kor?” she said.
Darzan swallowed. “My apologies.” The man looked like he wanted to crawl into a maintenance shaft and hide.
“Dismissed, Agent Darzan. Get strapped in for take-off. Come on, Colm. We need to get to the cockpit.”