Devoted Deceptions, A 4th Millennium Adventure, Book 3

by Cherie Singer

  Cat stared at her in disbelief. "You've given up?"

  "Not at all. It is imperative to me that I break the codes. I have managed to trace the origin of the transmission back to the Falchion."

  "How the bloody hell can that be?" Coiled tension exploded. Cat threw herself back into pacing. A string of messages from the Falchion all but ruled out Wheeler. Unless he had an accomplice. The very idea that someone else could be guilty made her sick. Cat chewed on her bottom lip while she studied the communication officer. She'd circumvented Seleen's console more than once. Someone else must have that expertise. Who?

  Seleen's muzzle whiskers twitched with ill-suppressed agitation. "I know how."

  A shockingly strong feeling of guilt rolled off the Grimalkan officer. The fine hairs on Cat's arms lifted in response to the chill creeping over her. It couldn't be! "Oh, Seleen! No!"

  The tip of Seleen's tail flicked wildly. "Aye, Commander. The messages have been--What is the Earther term? Ah, yesss--piggybacking on our authorized transmissions. It's the logical conclusion. I should have caught that fact sooner."

  Cat wilted against the hated recovery bed, weak laughter trickling out of her. "That's why you feel guilty?"

  "Reason enough. I failed you and the captain."

  "Your loyalty is the direct opposite of failure. Seleen, for the messages to piggyback like that, the timing would need to be--"

  "Nearly perfect. Which means someone on the bridge, or with access to bridge functions."

  The fresh chill that swept through Cat brought a new clarity. Or else Albright's drugs had finally worn off enough for her to think straight again. "Not if the messages were imbedded in the computer system and activated at predetermined times."

  "Or certain incoming transmissssions could act as the trigger." Seleen's back practically arched. Her outrage showed in every line of her body, the sibilant sound creeping into her speech.

  "Any transmission in particular you have in mind?"

  "I am unwilling to accuse anyone without proof. If I may be excused to study the comm logs?"

  "By all means. Um, Seleen, if you find anything conclusive, let me know before you trouble Captain Kincade."

  "As you wish, Commander. The captain does have an abundance of concerns at the moment."

  "I appreciate your discretion."

  "As I was uncertain how long Doctor Albright intended to keep you here, I included a copy of the message you received on Nutralis about the children. You will also find a log of all I and the Nutralian comm monitor have done to decrypt the contents. I thought you might need something to kill time."

  "Seleen, you think of everything. Be assured that if the good doctor discovers I have the handcom, I won't remember where I found it."

  Within seconds of Seleen's departure, Cat logged onto the handcom and had her identity confirmed through voiceprint and passwords. "Play."

  `Catherine.' Admiral Flemming's voice snared her complete attention. `First, I want to assure you that while we're doing everything in our power to find your son and daughter, we have not yet met with success. I'm deeply sorry. On a personal note, I've been saying prayers I'd thought had long been forgotten.'

  Lack of information pertaining to the children didn't surprise her, but the continued silence further blighted her already thinly stretched hope. An ache, buried deep around her heart, threatened to burst forth in a rush of sharp pain. Cat tamped down the hurt, locked the misery away. Falling apart now would surely condemn any hope for the children, her mother or Cass.

  `On to business. It appears we have a bonafide source of natural plunarium available to us. I'm sending a Covert agent to isolate and protect one of the mine owners until sale negotiations are completed. Once that is accomplished, we'll be able to shroud most of the fleet. Until we speak in person, take care.'

  Bless the Creator for Flemming not wanting her to take care of the mine owner. She would've refused, for she could not abandon the hunt for the children, her mother or the chairman, and who knows where the noncompliance with orders could have led.

  A flutter of movement in the doorway caught her attention. Cat eased the handcom into a utility pocket of her uniform, forced herself to appear relaxed.

  Albright strolled into the recovery room. "Been awake long?"

  "Yes. Not that I don't appreciate your department's hospitality, Nora, but how soon can I get out of here?"

  "Now, if you manage to follow a few simple guidelines."

  She eyed Albright's sly expression with suspicion. "How few and how simple?"

  "You're to go directly from here to the captain's quarters."

  Sounded easy enough, but her tensing muscles said differently. For some reason she couldn't identify, the sudden freedom felt like a trap. Ridiculous. "If I comply, you consider me released from medical restrictions?"

  "That's the deal."

  "Done and done!"

  "COME," WULFE'S voice filtered through to Cat where she stood in the corridor.

  Her heart pounded so hard the sound thundered in her ears. No reason in the Creator's sweet universe why her palms should perspire at the thought of entering her husband's quarters. Nonetheless, she wiped the puzzling dampness on her uniform.

  The door panels parted, allowing Cat to step inside the rooms she'd shared with her mate for a few glorious months. Wulfe, his wavy, sable hair loose around his silk-clad shoulders, strode across the living area to meet her. His teeth flashed whiter than the ivory of the full-sleeved shirt. The devilish grin made her knees go suddenly weak. He gestured to the low table situated in front of the lounger.

  Her sense of smell maintained its accuracy--the small bouquet of freesias on the table brought back instant memories for her. Did Wulfe remember the only time he'd presented her with freesias? The night she'd become pregnant with Garrett.

  Startled by the thought, Cat tested for the bonding link and found...the wall. She let out a slow breath. For just a few seconds--whether wishful thinking or fact--she swore she'd sensed a chink in the barrier.

  "Wulfe?"

  He shrugged, looking self-conscious. "Don't ask me to explain it. Somehow, offering these to you felt right. I believe the botanist called them freesias."

  "That's what they are. My favorite."

  "Good, they please you. A couple of other things felt right, too."

  "Such as?" Cat spied their bonding goblet and a bottle of passion wine on the table. A tremor darted through her. They'd used that goblet a second time to renew their vows the night of Garrett's conception, and now Wulfe had it out again.

  His gaze followed hers. "The goblet seemed appropriate. I also seem to recall that one of your favorite things to eat is a baked potato smothered in sour cream under a mountain of cracked pepper."

  "You recall quite well." Thoughtful bribery. The first time Wulfe had done something so blatantly Earther--flowers and favorite foods--he'd seduced her quite thoroughly. Seemed to be a theme going on here.

  Wulfe went to the dispenser unit. The choices must have been preprogrammed because he returned with a tray in only seconds. He'd included a variety of fruits and crisp vegetables. The rich aroma of a thick, savory bresk't stew, served on a Wulfe-sized platter, made her close her eyes and remember family meals on Bellona.

  He put the tray onto the low table, then nodded to the food. "Meet with your approval?"

  "Mmm." She sat on the carpeted deck, crossed her legs beneath her while he eased himself onto the lounger. "Perfect. The food. The flowers." Cat poked a forefinger into the sour cream burying the potato and licked away the contrasting blend of peppery smoothness. "What's going on?"

  Wulfe had the grace to look uneasy while he finished chewing his first bite of meat. He put his fork down with great care, swallowed. His eyes unflinchingly met hers. "I've been wrong."

  Cat coughed on a piece of cracked pepper until her eyes watered. She finally managed to sputter, "Say again!"

  Wulfe grinned as he reached across the table and brushed moisture from th
e corner of her eyes with his fingertip. He couldn't blame her for being surprised. He'd be able to count on one hand the number of times he admitted such a thing, and still have fingers left over. "Nice to see you nearly speechless for a change."

  "Keep talking. See how long I stay that way."

  "Fair enough." Wulfe pulled his hand back. Reluctantly. But that was the only way to continue clear thought. He held no doubt about what he felt, though he didn't have a clue as to how Cat would react when he told her. He didn't care about the things gone wrong between them in the past. Cat would never have intentionally done anything to harm their unborn son. Wasn't part of her nature. An accident, a horrible twist of fate took that child's life.

  "So which time are we talking about?"

  "Which time? Have I been wrong that often, in your opinion?"

  "Often enough, and when you're wrong, you are wrong."

  "I see." Quality makes up for quantity, hmm?

  Cat's amber eyes sparked with new emotion. "Or are you referring to something new I have yet to discover?"

  She wasn't going to make this easy for him. "You can be--no, you are--the most exasperating female the Creator ever put into this universe!"

  "So you've said before, though not so good-naturedly." She arched her eyebrow at him in that saucy, defiant way of hers. "Wulfe? How bad can this be?"

  His recent thoughts of confession locked, refused to verbalize. The perfect moment had passed, Wulfe realized with regret. Ah, well, the correct time would show itself, but for now, he had to come up with something. "I underestimated your fortitude. Your inner strength is a continual source of amazement to me."

  "Oh. Well." Cat looked at him quizzically, shrugged. "I've had a piece of good news, if you're interested."

  Wulfe felt a flush of encouragement. "Really? Garrett and Morgan? What?"

  She put the forkful of potato back down. "Not good, like finding the children, or anyone else, for that matter. Good for the League and Space Corps." She brought the fork to her mouth again, paused as she continued. "A natural source of plunarium. Covert only needs to keep one of the owners safe until a deal can be made."

  Covert would tear Cat away from him yet again! Wulfe clenched his teeth, ground them together so hard he thought his jawbone would crack, until he gained control. If she intended to leave the Falchion to do Covert's bidding, he'd give her a memory to take with her, by the gods!

  He shoved the dishes away, stood and towered over her.

  Cat dropped her fork and scrambled backwards across the floor at least a meter before he could take another step. His intentions must have radiated from him in empathic waves, because she watched him with a wide-eyed consternation that made him realize how vulnerable she could really be. The tip of her tongue quickly touched the center of her full bottom lip. His pulse raged while she seemed to make a speedy assessment of their situation.

  Wulfe stepped around the table, moved toward Cat, held out a hand to her and waited. The delicate, familiar hand slid into his without betraying any hesitation so he could help her to her feet. She came up and into his arms in one fluid motion.

  Cat shook her head. "I'm not hungry anymore."

  Her sweet, throaty voice sent a shiver arrowing down his spine.

  "I'm starved. For you, ma'ten."

  She curved her arms around his waist, leaned back far enough to look up at him, a smile lifting her lips. "You know me. I always have room for dessert."

  "As do I, if you are the sweet." He cupped her cheek in his palm. "I care not what has gone before. I am concerned only with today, and anticipate our many tomorrows together."

  Her lips parted on a soft breath of exhalation. "The truth of your words fills my heart."

  Something tight and coiled inside him released and finally began to live again. "Then I need only to fill the rest of you." He'd clear her mind of their troubles if only for an interval. His own, too.

  They wound themselves around each other. A slow, easy tumble took them to their knees and eventually to lie together on the deck. Wulfe captured Cat's mouth with his while the fingers of one hand slid down and around the slim column of her neck. He moved his hand lower, marveling at the heat her body created. She arched into him until her generous breast filled his palm, the hardening peak jutting through clingy uniform fabric.

  Skin! He wanted to touch, caress, bare hot skin. He needed her to burn for him the way he flamed for her. Questing fingers, exploring hands made short frantic work of confining clothes until they both had what they needed. Flesh, silky and heated.

  Wulfe slowed his pace then reacquainting himself with the honey-sweet smoothness of Cat's body. He traced the gentle hollows with his lips, tasted the generous curves with his tongue. He lingered over every satiny spot that made her gasp or catch her breath. "Do you burn for me, ma'ten?"

  In response, she stopped exploring him with her moist mouth and grazed one of his nipples with her teeth. Wulfe gloried in the sudden wanton lavishness of her tongue on him, her searching touches that threatened to loose his inner savage. The low sound, almost purr-like in its intensity, from the back of Cat's throat acted as pure invitation for him to increase his attentions.

  She writhed, reaching, reaching. Her hot, magical hand cupped around him and he thought he'd die of the pleasure. Just when he thought he could bear no more, she shifted her hand, stroked him from base to tip until he knew he'd explode.

  Cat felt the rumble of desire build deep in Wulfe's broad chest even before she heard the telltale sound. She released the hot length of flesh, wriggled her body until she could tip her hips under her husband, wrap her legs around him.

  She locked gazes with Wulfe, watched his brown eyes go even darker as he eased into her centimeter by breath-stealing centimeter.

  "I cherish you, ma'ten." The simple declaration in his deep voice moved through her, vibrated to her soul, made her heart ache with joy.

  When she thought she couldn't stand the absence of movement another second, Wulfe commenced a slow, deep rhythm designed to transport both of them to the brink of madness. He lengthened his stroke, going deeper, withdrawing further, always faster, harder, wilder.

  Magical heat grew, expanded to become an engulfing sexual flame. Liquid fire burned through her veins, bound them together, mind, heart and soul, only to explode in a rationale-rending culmination, shattering her control. A second later, Wulfe cried out her name, low and hoarse, and followed her into oblivion.

  Awareness came back to her in delicious little tremors created by Wulfe's mouth on her shoulder, lazily tasting her skin. Cat cleared her throat. "I burn for you."

  A soft, deep rumble of laughter made Wulfe's warm breath caress her neck. "I figured that out."

  He rolled to his back. Cat went with him, draping one leg over his groin, resting her head on his massive chest. She skimmed her fingers through the tangle of chest hair, listened to the pounding of his heart; reality crept in with the slowing beat.

  Wulfe wrapped both arms around her. "Are you cold? You shivered."

  "Cold? When I'm around you? Never." Cat stretched, flexed languid muscles, her torso twisted away from Wulfe when she gestured vaguely to their scattered clothing. "Duty calls."

  "Relentlessly. I'll have to settle for a sonic shower."

  A few minutes later Cat stood in the sleeping chamber next to the sleeper and watched Wulfe pull on a uniform. He'd been unusually quiet the last few minutes and she could sense something worried him, enough that he seemed uncertain of his actions. She adjusted the waist of her own uniform. "Returning to the bridge?"

  Wulfe glanced at her, a slight frown marking his brow. "I must handle a couple of, uh, unforseen details."

  "Anything I can do to help?"

  "No, I--yes, there is."

  "Tell me."

  He disappeared into the living area, came back with the goblet and bottle of passion wine. "I know traditionally we should drink this before we make love, but we seem to shatter all conventions. Let's toast a new be
ginning."

  "I believe that's a fine idea." She studied Wulfe while he poured the goblet full. Uneasiness radiated from him, as though he kept a secret.

  "To us." He offered her the first sip.

  Warmed by Wulfe's words but puzzled by his churning emotions--tainted by a hint of deceit--Cat employed her own brand of trickery. She resorted to ritual. She dipped her forefinger into the goblet, licked the wine away to prove it safe for her Lord. A shadow flickered in his eyes and cautious alarm emanated from him.

  Wulfe took a sip and handed the goblet back to her. "I think I saw your hair clasps in the living area. I'll get them for you while you finish the wine."

  Cat nodded in agreement. The second he left the chamber, she raced to the head, dumped the wine and sped back to the bedside. What the bloody hell was he up to?

  Wulfe returned, placed the metal clasps on the small table next to the bed. He stepped close to her, just beginning to tie his hair back. Wulfe stopped, reached for her, and looked at the empty goblet. "You finished it. Good. Would you like some more?"

  "I don't think so."

  He ran his hands down her arms until he encircled each of her wrists. He moved her wrists behind her back, held them there while he kissed her with slow, sweet and traitorous sensuality. Only when he released her mouth did she realize he'd tied her arms together with the strip of leather.

  "I didn't think you had time for games."

  Wulfe stepped back, his face serious. "This is no game. Sure you don't want more wine?"

  Humor quickly evaporated as she comprehended his seriousness. He'd drugged the passion wine! "Then what the bloody hell is it?"

  "I refuse to allow Covert to take you from our lives ever again."

  "Covert isn't taking me anywhere."

  "You bet they're not. You will not be the one to go to the aide of this mine owner."

  "I had no intention of doing so! This isn't funny! Untie me! Now!"

  "No." Wulfe picked her up, settled her on the bed and grabbed another strip of leather from the bedside table.