“Don’t be nervous, kitten,” Ruush said. “Some bureaucrat stamps your chip. Easy peasy.”
I glanced down at my wrist. Yesterday, I reinserted the identity chip. Part of me, a large part of me, hated that damn chip. It was everything I wanted to leave behind. At least this time, I kept the chip shallow, barely under the epidermis, for quick extraction. The last extraction involved too much digging.
“I’ve sown up the torn testicles of Tal cage fighters. I’m not nervous.” Bureaucracy wasn't scary, I told myself. Angry, hurt fighters drunk on booze and adrenaline, bleeding out and still seeking flesh to rend and tear. Any piece of flesh they could sink their claws into. That was scary. “I can do this.”
* * *
The Avalon Station orbiting the planet was dusty. Can you imagine such a thing? A dusty space station. After being under quarantine for a year, all travel and trade had ceased. The station was an endless parade of empty shops, empty cafes, empty docks, empty workstations, and empty customs queues.
At least we didn’t have to wait for the immigration agent interview. We strolled right up to the counter and presented my wrist to be scanned.
“And what skills do you offer,” the immigration officer asked. The bored bureaucrat didn’t even glance up from his tablet. I saw the gleam in Ruush’s eye. This wasn’t good. He hated being ignored.
“Well,” Ruush said lazily, leaning forward onto the counter. “I ain’t fancy like a doctor. I guess nothing, if you don’t count between the sheets.”
“Ruush!” A fast and fierce blush overtook me.
“Don’t be ashamed, kitten,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “You have an important job helping people. And it’s my job to take care of you.” His hand caressed the side of my face. “To help you relax. Often. To complete satisfaction. Again and again.”
Was it possible to die from blushing too hard? Stars.
The bureaucratic cleared his throat.
“Just put homemaker,” I said.
“My kitten calls me her love bunny. Ain’t that adorable?”
I wasn’t going to die. He was.
Ruush’s production satisfied the agent and he updated our chips with our new clearance. However, we weren’t free to go.
“Mandatory twenty-four-hour observation period. You must also meet with the IHO medical director tomorrow. An appointment has been scheduled,” the clerk said.
“That’s ridiculous,” I protested. “Observation for what?”
“Pathogens, Doctor Yvar. Pathogens.”
That made no sense at all. Ruush patted my arm. “They want to inspect the ship, kitten. So many people try to sneak in and violate the quarantine.”
We were assigned a room for the duration. One room. One bed. Because we were “married.” On the way to our room, Ruush gripped my hand tight and would occasionally pull on my arm, making me lean into him. Bastard. Once in the room and the door closed, I jerked away from him.
“What the hell was all that?”
“Back there? It’s call selling the sizzle. I had to demonstrate my utter and complete devotion, kitten.” He turned on the entertainment center and set the volume unreasonably loud.
“Did you really have to say all those things? And does that have to be so loud?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Kitten, if I ever had the honor of being in your bed, I would crow it from the rooftops.”
“Don’t say things like that. It’s embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing that a man would find you attractive? I got news for you, kitten,” he said, closing the gap between us. His hands were on my upper arms, his thumbs stroking my skin. “Right now, every man in this station is imagining you naked, all succulent and voluptuous, and every one of those bastards is wishing he were me.”
My blush was back, threatening to overwhelm me.
Ruush
I waved my hands frantically but Meyet had her heart set on yelling at me. I did admire her spirit. I also admired the way her breasts bounced when she stomped her foot in frustration. Part of me wanted to tell her as much, to get that shocked, open-mouthed expression. The rest of me was trying really hard to keep the pious choir boy from ruining a good, tit-bouncing, thing.
The biggest issue was that the room most definitely had a bug. I would plant a listening device in all the ‘mandatory observation’ rooms myself. But Meyet wouldn’t stop talking long enough to let me search. It seemed I embarrassed her pride. Enough was enough.
“Kitten, you need to listen to me,” I said, gripping her arm.
“No, you need to listen to me.”
We were getting nowhere. I scanned the channels on the entertainment center, and settled on a classic Gyer martial arts movie.
“That’s too damn loud,” Meyet said, as she moved towards the volume control.
I caught her wrist. Her nostrils flared and she stomped her foot again. Damn. This woman got better and better. I leaned into her and whispered, “Bugs.”
“Like bed bugs?” Horror flickered across her face.
“Surveillance equipment. So we keep the volume up and we don’t say anything important.”
“Fine, but you can let go of me. You’re only pretending to be my husband.”
A wave of possessiveness overcame me. My fingers dug into the tender underside of her upper arms. “Listen kitten, I’m not pretending anything. Until you pay off your debt, you belong to me.” She was mine. Only mine. The idea of sweet Meyet with any other man drove me wild.
Mine.
Her eyes, green as new grass, went wide. “I am NOBODY’S property!” She raised her right hand to strike me but I caught her wrist easily. The delicate bones of her wrist under my hand felt like clutching a bird. She didn’t struggle to break free; my thumb rubbed the soft skin of her hand and I smiled at her.
The out of nowhere, she rammed her left palm straight into my nose. The sharp tang of blood and staggering pain filled my senses. Then a swift kick dropped me like a sack of grain.
Prone on the floor, blood flowed freely and trickled down the back of my throat. “You broke my nose,” I moaned. Actually, it came out “Youbroft muh noss” but you get the idea. Blood. Pain. Stunned awe.
Stars above, Meyet was exquisite.
She stood over me and then lowered herself, sitting on my chest. Her delicate hands rested heavily on my shoulders. She brought her face right to mine.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” she said, voice innocent and sweet. “In this relationship, you belong to me. You’re mine, Ruush et Rueben. Only mine.” Her lips were close to mine, nearly brushing. I lifted my head but she pushed me back down. “So get that cocky grin off your face because I don’t know if I want to keep you yet.”
Then a miracle. Her lips claimed my own, possessive, strong and everything a boy like me could ask for. Was this fighter really the scarred woman I found in a crate? Fortune favored me after all.
“Stars, you’re a mess,” Meyet said, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. I had that effect on the ladies. “Let me clean you up.”
If I hadn’t been gurgling from a broken nose, I might have admired my kitten’s fire. Who was I kidding? I loved it. She drew first blood on me. My mate had a warrior’s spirit. She would be mine completely. Now I just had to convince her to keep my unworthy hide.
Meyet
“Lean forward and breathe through your nose,” I said.
Ruush sat on the edge of the bed. Scarlet blood soaked the neckline of his shirt. I brought my medical kit over and set out my supplies. At least the worst of the bleeding was over. Gently, I prodded the swelling bridge of his nose. “Good news and bad news. Which one do you want?”
“Gub news,” he said.
“The cartilage is dislocated but I can fix it so you won't ruin that sexy face of yours.”
“And thu bad?”
“It’ll hurt and I don’t have the mind to be gentle.”
Ruush gave a stoic grunt.
I pressed the hydro to h
is neck and quickly administered an anti-inflammatory med. He flinched. So much for the stoic suffering of the Fremmian warrior. “You big baby,” I muttered. Then I made a triangle with my hands, all four fingers on either side of his nose. “Take a deep breath and exhale slowly.” He did as ordered. I brought my palms in closer and dragged my hands down in a straight line to his chin. The cartilage shifted and settled into place. Was I as gentle as I could have been? Nope. Did Ruush complain? No.
With a crack in the center of the insta-ice pack, the cold chemical reaction spread swiftly. I pressed the pack to Ruush’s nose. “Keep that on to reduce swelling.” The bed frame creaked as I sat down next to him.
“How did you learn to do that?”
“The break or the fix?”
“The break.”
I shrugged. “My brother’s a fighter. He taught me. Calmness told his men to keep their paws off me but sometimes they needed a reminder.”
A growl rumbled deep in Ruush’s chest. Look at that, the rogue was all possessive and jealous. Actually, the idea pleased me.
“You still think I’m sexy,” he said, the cocky smile back.
Ugh.
Chapter Twelve
Meyet
The next day, I had an appointment with the Interstellar Health Organization’s field director. In retrospect, immigration was easy. I flashed my credentials and got access to the quarantined planet. Now was the hard part: convincing the IHO that I was there to actually help, and not rob plague victims. The idea of taking supplies from needy people in the middle of an epidemic made my skin crawl. Still, it wasn’t like I had a choice. Big smiles, Meyet.
The IHO had an office and clinic on the station. Calm and quiet, the sound of a water fountain filled the clinic’s lobby. There were a few obviously ill people in the waiting area, but the atmosphere was orderly, not the chaotic mess I expected. Actually, as Ruush and I headed to the meeting, I realized this small clinic was nicer than any I’d worked in on Talmar.
Administer Zurita’s office was palatial, decorated with expensive woods and lush fabrics. I sat on the edge of my seat, my second hand outfit clashing with the fine decor. The director, a man with a pinched, sallow face, sat behind an enormous desk.
“Your resume is rather light, Doctor Yvar,” the director said.
“I was on retainer for a private client.”
“Private client? Sounds expensive. What sparked your interest in the IHO? Our salary can’t compare to what you’re use to.”
I glanced at Ruush before answering. “My client passed. I needed to build my resume and the IHO was recruiting.”
The director studied his tablet, flipping through the pages of my resume. I’m not really sure what Ruush included. I was operating under the assumption that the IHO was desperate for altruistic physicians willing to work for a pittance.
He set down the tablet. “We’re not exactly in the position to turn away qualified doctors. I understand you have your own transport and shelter.”
“My ship, the Promontory,” Rush said. “We’ll be staying there. Home sweet home, after all.”
“Yes. The cargo freighter. Seems a bit large for two people.”
Ruush shrugged, as if asked the question all the time. He opened his mouth to say something smart-alecky and ruin our cover story. “He won it in a card game,” I said, cutting him off. But then I frowned. Didn’t I want his scheme to be ruined?
“That’s true. I won it in a card game from my brother,” Ruush said. His expression commanded me to be silent. “It belonged to our parents. They were archeologists.”
The director leaned forward in his chair. “Archeologists or treasure hunters?”
“My mother is a professor at the Royal University of Fremm. My father is... was shadier.”
I tried to keep my expression neutral. Was Ruush telling the truth about his parents? He was such a skilled liar; he could just be spinning a complex tale about the family-owned spaceship. But it sounded like the truth.
“Even for a family of four, it seems large.”
The nonchalant shrug was back. “Mom took her students on excavations. The family, the students, and the interns all stayed in the ship rather than make camp and possibly disturb a dig site. I spent a lot of my childhood onboard that ship.”
The director studied Ruush’s face for a long moment before his attention swiveled back to the tablet. “Everything seems in order. I’ll authorize the release of your ship and send the coordinates of your assignment.”
Easy-peasey. My sabotage skills need work.
Ruush
I did exactly what I told the immigration officer I would do. I took care of Meyet.
Watching Meyet work was a pleasure. She was tireless in the clinic, from dawn to dusk. I brought her lunch, ensured she ate, and made sure she had a proper break. Then I arrived at the end of her shift and escorted her back to the ship. I fed her, bathed her, and put her to bed. My bed, of course, in case we are under surveillance. I did not touch her, though I longed to, but listening to the soft murmurs of her breathing was soothing. One day, soon, I would not lay there on the far side of the bed, with my back turned away, ignoring her soft curves and my hard erection.
We followed this routine for eight days. I arrived at the clinic with a basket and smiled at the nurses. Charming information out of marks was my specialty. We talked about the weather (hot) and lack of supplies (constant). Meyet did her job caring for the ill and I did mine, plucking out intel.
The nurses stared at my Meyet with envious eyes and I puffed up in pride. I would be a good mate and take care of her. I couldn’t explain the overwhelming need I had to demonstrate that to her but it drove me. I wanted Meyet to stay, so I needed to prove myself a good mate.
Part of me entertained the idea that Meyet was my fated mate, my kompli. Certainly something resonated in me when I saw her for the first time. And bringing Meyet meals, making her set her work aside and placing food in her hands gave me great satisfaction. More than I expected. When I went to retrieve her at the end of her shift, it was not feigned delight on my face when I saw her. I was genuinely pleased, and slightly distressed at her exhaustion.
On the evening of the eighth day, I had what I needed, and I drew Meyet away. “But there’s too much to do,” she said, clutching a tablet to her chest. “I need one more hour.”
I removed the tablet and placed it on her desk. “No. You need to eat, to bathe, and to sleep.”
“This is more important,” she said.
“Keeping you fit to do your job is important,” I said. My hands engulfed hers and I pulled her to me. “Take off those scrubs and let’s go home.”
Meyet gazed up at me from the embrace and nodded. Heavy purple circled her eyes. My heart lurched. I was not taking proper care of my exhausted mate. She stripped off the white coat and the top and bottom scrubs, revealing sensible black underwear. The dirty laundry landed in a basket and she pulled on the fresh outfit I brought her.
Dinner waited on the Promontory. I wasn’t much of a cook, but I had been serious about taking care of Meyet. I saw how hard she worked, caring for the ill. I saw her exhaustion at the end of the day. The least I could do was provide her decent fuel.
She took a cautious spoonful of the tomato soup before nodding in satisfaction. Grilled harvartan on a bed of greens accompanied the soup. Look at me, learning to cook like an adult.
“I have the information I need,” I said.
Meyet’s eyebrows rose. “I almost forgot why we were here. I’ve been so busy.”
“There’s a shipment coming in tomorrow night. We’ll intercept it.”
“So we leave tomorrow.”
I nodded. Tomorrow I’d start the process of waking the crew. I could already imagine the expression on Resolve’s face when she learned I’d been playing homemaker with the doctor.
“And I can’t stay?” Meyet asked.
“Do you want to stay? What about Galax One?”
She took a bite of the
grilled meat, buying a moment to consider. “Malik is waiting for me. Besides, if I stay I’ll be arrested and questioned when the authorities realize what you’ve done.”
Sensible kitten. Stars, I wanted to toss her down on my bed and make her scream herself senseless. But we weren’t there yet. So I said, “You’ve done good work. You can be proud of that.”
Her eyes narrowed. “But I’m helping a thief steal medical supplies.”
Couldn’t let that go, could she? “How about a shower and then bed?”
I took Meyet’s hand and led her to my cabin. She was clearly tired. Her heavy steps dragged on the floor. I moved to carry her, but she batted my hands away. Proud until the end. In my cabin, I started the shower. Only my cleansing room had a shower large enough to accommodate two people. Being captain had its privileges. But when I returned to the main room, Meyet was already slumped on the bed, asleep.
She couldn’t sleep without washing away the hospital disinfectant and germs. The harsh scent was wrong, masking the honey and lemon that emanated naturally from her skin. Gently, I woke her, helped her to sit up, and undress. It was entirely clinical. I’d seen her naked before, after all.
She was mostly awake by the time we were in the shower. She leaned against the tiled wall, exhausted. “You work too hard,” I said as I reached for the shampoo and lathered it into her hair. She closed her eyes and sighed, leaning back against me.
“I wouldn't have to work so hard if we weren’t going to steal from the clinic.”
“So you’re responsible for the actions of others now?”
She snorted. “I don’t think I could even try to be responsible for your actions.”
Alien Rogue's Price: Alpha Alien Romance (Alpha Aliens of Fremm Book 4) Page 7