“I love you for asking that. Come on, then. Let's get you back where you belong.” She kicked the bike's power up and turned it as she pulled the goggles back into place. “Hurry up.” She'd accompany him. Then, once she was sure his people had him safely in hand, she'd leave.
Without knowing she hadn’t actually agreed, Miguel felt a jump in his chest and a rather silly grin cocked one side of his mouth up. Wait ‘til Rabbit gets a load of her.
Kicking his bike around, the pilot led the way back into open air and sped towards the sheer sides, taking the least vertical of them which still meant they had to stand and lean over the bars to avoid toppling out of the saddles. Once they’d cleared the ridge, they could see the dark reflective metal of a 12-man shuttle sitting alone in a field of cereal grains. The shapes spreading out around it were harder to make out but Miguel could read their bio-signatures, each one a name he knew. And there was Rabbit.
Pushing the throttle back down, the Spaniard sped straight for them, knowing his signature would come up with an unknown biological entity riding shotgun. He had to reach them before there were any misunderstandings.
So intent on reassuring his rescuers about her presence, he didn't notice the distance between them was growing. Lyrianne’s heart was in her throat as she slowed down though she didn't turn to leave just yet. She was afraid he'd do something dumb like follow after her again. She had to see him on the ground. Off the bike. Then she'd go. She hung back, waiting and watching Miguel as he reached his shipmates.
Miguel was quickly on them and bringing the bike down, the first words out of his mouth, “She’s with me!”; the deep greens and grays of the camo armor began to coalesce into five well-geared Fed men. And Rabbit.
“Miguel, you sorry sack, are you a sight for sore eyes!” The other pilot stripped off his headgear and met Miguel half way, the two embracing in a bro-hug. The other men kept their helmets on and were guarding the small perimeter they had established. One of them was facing Lyrianne as she slowly advanced on the hoverbike.
She drifted to a stop and removed the goggles, pulling the ponytail loose in the process. Her hair blew across her eyes and she reached up to hold the long strands to one side so she could watch Miguel greet the other man. It was obvious there was joy in the reunion. He was back with his own people and was probably already putting her forsaken planet behind him. Though she felt a painful sense of loss, she smiled. He would be fine.
She turned her head to get one good look at his ship and his people. Her fingers began to close around the bike's controls then her intention to leave fled from her mind, her grip on the bike's throttle loosening. The breeze that played with her hair was a typically warm summer gust but she felt her skin prickle with goose bumps.
She stared back at the hidden visage of the one who was watching her. Maybe it was his posture combined with the way he held his weapon at the ready or possibly that his anonymity changed him into the embodiment of all she had come to believe about the nature of the military, whichever side they came from. She didn't know but it made no difference.
Her sudden fear of the spaceman was overwhelming and kept her from moving. Slowly she raised the hand that wasn't holding her hair in place, palm out to show she was unarmed. She then turned on the bike's saddle, revealing as much of herself as she could while remaining seated, hoping the form hugging tank top and light weight pants she wore would reassure him she had no place to conceal weapons of any sort.
“You have your pilot back. I'm going to leave now.”
Miguel broke off the contact with his best friend and turned sharply, his eyes finding Lyrianne. There was confusion there, but something else, very close to the surface. He crossed in front of the man spooking her, disrupting her sight of him, and strode quickly to her.
Closing his hand over hers served two purposes. It connected them – and it prevented her from using the handbar controls to put the bike in gear.
“You are not staying here.” He searched her face, uneasy. They didn't have time for this. “We must go now before more tinmen come.”
“Miguel.” She shook her head. “Think about it. If I went with you, what would become of me? I am from an Alliance world, a colony world at that. In the Federation I would have nowhere to go and no skills that would give me any value. How is that any better than what I have waiting for me here?”
She fought back the desire to put her arms around him one last time. “You have to listen to me. I helped you because I wanted to. You don't owe me anything.” She turned her hand in his until she could grasp his fingers tightly. Her voice was barely a whisper as she looked into the fascinating depths of his eyes. “You have to go. Please.”
His throat moved painfully as he tried to swallow. Why did he care if she didn't want to come? What had he really been thinking? Was he going to register her as his companion and stow her in his quarters? This was a woman used to the freedom of so much land. It would be cruel to take her from it, akin to locking her up in a cage with nowhere to go. It would kill her spirit.
Raising his hand, he slid it gently up her jaw to cup her cheek. “I will never forget you either, querida.” Brushing his thumb over her slender brow, he watched the even stroke before meeting her eyes. His smile was sad and full of longing. “Thank you for saving my life.”
Leaning close, he slanted his mouth over hers in a soft, lingering kiss.
She let him kiss her but didn't return it, sudden fear over who would be waiting for her at the farm crowding out any joy she might have found in the farewell. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she smiled at him then touched his cheek and mouth, her hand then sliding over the still visible bruise on his jaw. “I think you did that yourself. In spite of me.”
Heaving a big sigh, she looked beyond him to his friend then to the others. “Is there a proper way to surrender? Some way to make sure they don't shoot first and ask questions later?”
She tried to make it sound like a teasing thought inspired by her embarrassing fear of his companions. She wanted him to think it was said to lighten the mood for him, and her, before they parted. It was, however, probably the most practical thought she had in her head right then. She was thinking of those who would be looking for her when she got back. Farley had had plenty of time by now to report her aiding the enemy and she was trying to be strong as her father's daughter should be. She would not run or hide or beg but that didn't mean she wasn't afraid of how she might be treated if she seemed a threat to her captors in any way.
Miguel looked uncertain as he tried to smile at her jest, misunderstanding whom 'they' were that she was referring. “They are good boys, querida, though I have no doubt one or two would enjoy your surrender.” His brows rose and he leaned back though he did not release her face that he now held in both of his hands. “You will come with me then?”
Thinking she had changed her mind, he grinned broadly and reached across her to power down the bike. “Come. We have taken too long.”
“Don't keep saying that!” She choked the protest out on a sob, fighting the tears which only served to make her angry at their persistence. “Don't.” She grasped the anger as if it would anchor her crazily spinning emotions. “You are so stubborn!”
She tried to get the bike started again but was having trouble with it. Her exit spoiled, she turned her eyes back to his. “I know you think you should rescue me or something, because of a debt you think you owe me – which you don't - I would even let you do it, but, forgive me, I don't think I could stand it when... It would hurt too much and I... Miguel, please. I'm giving you an out. Just take it and stop trying to be noble. Go.”
His brows climbed his forehead and he almost stepped back, his hands falling away. “Is that what you think?”
“Madrid, man, we got to go!” Rabbit, tall, lanky and ebony skinned, was pulling his helmet back on and heading towards them. The flashes of an approaching vehicle had registered on the LED lenses of Miguel's eyes but he had ignored them until now.
“I want you to come with me because I do not want to say goodbye. Because I hate the thought of not seeing you again. Because I want to make love to you with the stars at our backs-”
“Gah. You're gonna make me puke, man...”
A muscle tensed in the pilot's jaw, but he didn't look away. “I cannot leave you here to be arrested. I will not. Now get off this bike and come with me before we are all killed.”
Her awareness was so focused on Miguel, she jumped when his friend spoke, but she didn't turn away from those meltingly intense brown eyes. He still had not said any more than he had before but she thought of it all a little differently. He wanted her with him. He'd never promised how long that would be. So be it. She would go. Her reason was simple. This time she really believed he was risking his life and his friends' lives because of her refusal to come with him.
“Fine.” She threw herself at him before she could talk herself out of it, her arms encircling his neck tightly. “I certainly didn't go to all the trouble I did only to see you killed because you're more stubborn than an old mule.”
Her glance slid to the other man and she nodded at him, but her attention quickly switched back to the man who had stolen her heart. She whispered into Miguel's ear. “But I'm going to hold you to the promise of making love to me with the stars at our back.”
Miguel grinned broadly and kissed her soundly, then scooped her legs up and started purposefully for the waiting shuttle. Rabbit and then the other men filed in towards them, keeping their backs safe as the rumble of an approaching Alliance cruiser shook the ground.
Climbing the ramp, Miguel swept Lyrianne into the open maw of the shuttle's back hatch, only setting her down once he'd positioned her in front of a seat along the side of the vehicle. Working quickly, he had her fastened into the harness as the other men made it inside and the hatch folded up, sealing them in.
Grinning at her as if their lives weren't in any danger, the Earth-born pilot stole a kiss and squeezed colonial woman's hand before taking the seat beside her. He was barely clipped in when the shuttle roared to life and lifted, the whole vessel shuddering, and colored light filled the forward viewport. The shuttle heaved, Rabbit crossed himself, and then they were rising up, gaining speed.
Miguel's hand closed over Lyrianne's and held tight.
She needed the contact. Things were happening too fast. She nervously gripped Miguel's hand back with both of hers, her eyes wide as she looked at him, seeking reassurance.
Watching him calmed her and gradually she relaxed and sighed, releasing his hand. She brought her wrapped foot up to gently massage the area on either side of the ankle while she continued to look at him.
“I think you're a little daft, you know?” She was smiling, not seeing anyone but him and therefore not trying to keep quiet. “I practically break your jaw, bite your tongue, sic a crazed charging bull named Farley on you, interfere so you wind up with your back side practically singed off, and then my driving gets your poor head broken, and still you tell me you won't leave me behind.” She touched the dried blood caked on his ear and frowned, her tone no longer teasing. “You really should have gone without me, Miguel.”
He turned his head and eyed her quite seriously, the rumble of the shuttle soon quieting as they left the planet's atmosphere. A soft orange light above his head cast a glow on his face, most of the interior lights switched off in favor of the less obtrusive essential bulbs above each seat and marking the floor under their boots.
A quiet hum encapsulated the vessel, its gentle rocking almost soothing. And through the port was the star filled canopy and the distant spacefarer that blotted its shape among them.
Miguel smiled, thinking how he’d had to fall out of the sky to find her.
“I am not going anywhere without you ever again.” And he bloody well meant it.
Catch a Falling Star Page 14