by Jodi Redford
“Things haven’t been handed to me.”
“But I bet you haven’t exactly had to struggle for anything either.” His assessing glance lingered on her pink-polished nails. He remembered his ex-wife’s standing weekly appointment at the expensive salon she’d insisted was a necessity and the teary eyes she’d predictably turned on him when he’d asked her to cut back on the spending. In the end he’d caved. When it came to Sandra, that’d always been his M.O.
Tearing his thoughts from dark alleys he’d rather not traverse, he gestured towards Rini’s hand. “Maybe that’s the real underlying reason you decided not to become a cop. Why settle for a low-paying job that’ll only ruin your manicure?” He met Rini’s indignant glower but all he could truly focus on was the dazzle of those damn diamonds in her ears. They brought out the bastard in him. “After all, Mommy and Daddy have a nice, cushy job all set to go at the agency. Way better than having to actually work your way up the ranks, like all the rest of us poor peons.”
He waited for her inevitable denial. When it didn’t come, he shook his head with a scornful snort. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Rini made no move to correct Lucus of his idiotic assessment. Let him think the worst of her. It was better than him knowing the sordid truth.
Hardly anyone knew the real reason she gave up her dream of becoming a ranger. Not her parents, not her coworkers, not her best friend. Only two other people knew the truth, and they certainly weren’t going to blab to anyone. So her story was safe—a painful secret stuffed in the furthest recesses of her heart.
She had every intention of keeping it that way.
Lucus leaned forward and adjusted the temperature control. She hadn’t noticed how warm it was in the bridge. Of course, the sight of his shirt pulling snug over his broad shoulders only made it feel a hundred degrees hotter. Jerking her gaze away, she focused on the stars and satellites zipping past the viewing shield.
He didn’t like her. She didn’t like him. If she had the slightest sense, she’d stop thinking about his yummy body and brain-frying kisses.
The sound of plastic crumpling drew her attention back to Lucus. His hand was stuffed in a bag of Galaxy Gus’s potato chips. He looked over and caught her staring.
“Want some?” Lucus extended the crinkled sack, but she hesitated. He shook the bag in invitation. “Don’t worry. It’s fresh—opened earlier this afternoon.”
Reassured, she ducked inside the package and fetched several chips. She popped the first one inside her mouth and her stomach rumbled in anticipation.
Lucus must have heard the embarrassing sound because he chuckled. “When’s the last time you ate? Sounds like a mutiny is going on in there.”
She swallowed the chip and licked the greasy salt from her fingers before answering. “I had a nice steak dinner planned, but I ended up sacrificing it to your hound.”
“So that’s how you snuck past Roscoe. Remind me to fire that damn dog.”
“Roscoe?” Tapping another chip against her lips, she contemplated the name. “Yeah, it suits him. Kind of butch and no-nonsense. And I get that he’s a guard dog, but really, would it kill you to bathe him once in a while?”
A quick snort shot from Lucus. “Trust me, if I could catch him he’d get a scrub down every damn day, considering his love affair with garbage cans leaves him reeking to high hell. As it is, I’m lucky to blast him with the hose on occasion before he runs off.”
She nibbled the edges of the chip clutched between her fingers. “Hmm, he doesn’t sound very obedient.”
“Speaking of which—you’re staying in the ship when we reach Aquatica.”
The remainder of her chips forgotten, she glared at Lucus. “Excuse me, but that sounded an awful lot like you telling me what to do.”
“It is what it is.”
“It’s demeaning. In case you didn’t notice, we’re no longer living in caves and clubbing wooly mammoths.”
A nerve twitched in his jaw and he crushed the chip bag before stowing it next to his seat. “This has nothing to do with sexism. I just don’t want you sticking your nose in my business.”
“Why, what sort of business are you conducting on Aquatica?” She stared at his profile, willing him to allay her suspicions. His mouth stayed fused in its stubborn line. “Well, I guess that explains how you managed to gain trade access with their leader.”
Irritation shimmered off him like an invisible force field. “Like I said, I do what’s necessary to survive.”
He made no move to elaborate further and Rini saw no point in dragging out an argument that was clearly pointless. She settled back in the seat and tried preoccupying herself by finishing her chips and mentally jogging through the rest of her week’s schedule. Most of the jobs were simple—easy enough a drunk monkey could do them blindfolded.
Without warning, Lucus’s earlier statement floated through Rini’s head. Maybe that’s the real underlying reason you decided not to become a cop. Why settle for a low-paying job that’ll only ruin your manicure?
A laugh attempted a quick getaway and she choked it down. Oh yeah, like repo’ing is such a glamorous job.
The star cruiser began descending, yanking her from her cynical musings. On the distant horizon, a small planet took shape, its dark, craggy surface just visible beyond the glowing moon orbiting the planet’s perimeter. “Is that Aquatica?”
“Yep. Make sure your harness is fully secured. Sometimes the gravitational pull around their moon is a bitch. Normally I wouldn’t approach from this direction, but it’s faster.”
Not in the mood to test the splatter resistance of the Liberty’s viewing shield, Rini tugged on the harness and expelled a relieved breath when the straps remained snug.
They approached the enormous moon and the star cruiser shuddered and dipped. Lucus’s knuckles tightened around the jerking throttle until the bones appeared like they might break through his skin. “Come on, baby. You can do it. Just a little more.” Cooing to the ship like it was a child throwing fits at having to eat brussel sprouts, he maneuvered past the moon’s hazardous pull.
Their safety assured, Rini released her death grip on the harness, her shoulders sagging against the seatback’s rigid spine.
Aquatica’s surface loomed closer, the crags and craters gaining definition. They soared over the highest peak of a mountain range before plummeting in a slow coast towards the arid valley nestled at the basin.
Like the majority of the planets existing in the Daxitron galaxy, Aquatica’s oceans and lakes long ago fell victim to ever-increasing solar warming, leaving each body of water in a barren state. Unlike its neighboring planets, Aquatica’s residents refused to find more hospitable accommodation elsewhere, as evidenced by the sizable warren of dome-shaped buildings clustered in the shadow of a massive water-drilling rig. The moon’s reflective glow glinted off the rig’s network of scaffolding. With a slight jolt, the Liberty touched down on the small landing strip situated several yards from the largest of the domes.
Lucus abandoned his seat, but not before giving her a move-a-muscle-and-you’ll-regret-it stare. Hah, like that wasn’t going to happen. She twisted in her seat and glared at his retreating back.
No force in the universe would keep her from the showdown she had planned for Aquatica’s leader.
Chapter Four
Lucus kept his distaste in check as General Quarrel limped across the lit tarmac followed by a small army of heavily armed guards. Aside from the Aquatican leader carrying excess flab that made him look like an octopus with a major beer gut, Quarrel represented everything Lucus despised in an individual. Top on the list of the general’s repugnant qualities—his delight in employing cruel and vicious terror tactics, even on those who possessed less threat to him than a sand gnat.
It didn’t help that the general coerced Lucus into this illegal trade operation, with a little help from Chase.
For the millionth time—minimum—Lucus envisioned his hands wrapped around his foo
lish brother’s neck. If Chase hadn’t gone looking for a cheap piece of tail on Shiarta three months ago, none of this would be happening. And if Chase paid the damn UGG payments as instructed, there wouldn’t be an aggravating, nosy woman prowling inside the star cruiser, waiting for the exact moment to make a huge nuisance of herself.
General Quarrel wobbled to a halt and leaned his massive weight into the walking cane gripped in his hand. His tentacle-like fingers slithered over the sturdy brass knob topping the cane. Watery, bile-green eyes regarded Lucus intently.
“You’re late. Do you have my shipment?” Impatience knifed through Quarrel’s raspy demand.
Lucus nodded.
“You made the trip here with no incident? I don’t need those damn bastards heading the UGG charging in here and raiding my compound.”
Willing away the bead of sweat attempting to slide free of his scalp, Lucus swept his arm towards the parked Liberty. “Everything went fine. If you have transport carts ready, I’ll start unloading the cargo.”
The general rapped his cane against the cracked cement and his guards scurried in the direction of the carts crammed in front of Quarrel’s main headquarters.
Giving one more clomp of his cane, the general shuffled across the tarmac. “Come on, I don’t have all night.”
Imperious son of a bitch. Grinding his molars, Lucus stalked after Quarrel. A stiff breeze kicked up, blowing a tattered scrap of packing material over his boot. He reached to pluck the paper free and the sweet, cloying essence of lilacs drifted to his nose. Jerking his head up, he scanned the surrounding area. Why the hell couldn’t she stay put? Straightening, he quickened his pace until he was running the final distance to the star cruiser. He skidded to a stop outside the rear cargo doors. His pulse drummed in his ears—his mad jog only partly to blame. The true source of his high blood pressure stood on the top step of the lowered ramp.
“Who the hell is she?” Quarrel wheezed from behind.
“My copilot.” Lucus kept his gaze trained on Rini, silently commanding her to keep her yap shut.
“Your copilot’s a woman?”
Lucus caught the scornful disbelief in Quarrel’s voice and rushed to ease the general’s suspicion. “Female copilots have their advantages.”
A robust laugh chuffed from Quarrel. “Ah yes. I can see the benefit of having available pussy during those long flights.”
Outrage glimmered in Rini’s eyes. She descended a step, her body tensed for confrontation. Lucus grabbed the rail and blocked the ramp’s exit. Her lips whitened as they flattened but she remained planted in place. Good. If she behaved the next fifteen minutes, they might get off the planet in one piece.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you join me inside while I get the general’s shipment ready?”
Apparently reading the demand beneath his gritted request, Rini spun an about-face and stormed into the darkened confines of the cargo bay.
Quarrel’s chuckle resembled rocks being dragged through a tumbler. “You have a feisty one there.”
Lucus stifled a grunt. There’s the understatement of the century.
“I bet she fucks like a wild creature.”
An image of Rini screaming her throat raw, her wild hair streaming over her shimmying breasts while she bounced on his cock flashed across Lucus’s mental big screen. He shook his head. Four months without sex—it was killing him. Clearly his hand was a poor substitute for the nirvana found between a woman’s legs. Soon as this job was finished and he paid Rini, he was flying to Shiarta and taking the first prostitute with the wickedest proposition. So long as she didn’t have red hair. He didn’t need his brain conjuring any more fantasies of Rini.
Turning to Quarrel, Lucus noticed the guards approaching with the transport carts. He took his cue and hurried up into the bay. Rini was waiting for him on the other side of the doors. Judging from the flush gracing her high cheekbones, she’d overheard the general’s crude assumption regarding her bedroom skills.
Head held high, she led the way to the nearest crated pallet. Her curvaceous hips moved with an unintentional, sexy sway. At least he assumed it was unintentional. The possibility of it being anything else was pretty damn slim. Particularly when he had better chances of winning the super-galactic lotto than having Rini deliberately tempt him with her luscious booty.
She plopped down on the edge of the crate that held a collection of raw silk from Jhiordan. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Yeah, he did. That was the problem with striking a bargain with the devil—you did as told or ended up flame broiled. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna have to move. You’re sitting on part of the shipment.”
Rini crossed her arms over her chest. “What if I don’t?”
“Then I guess you’ll be considered part of the cargo.” His gaze traveled a slow sweep over her torso. “Don’t think General Quarrel will mind.”
She jumped from her perch like a fire had been ignited under her ass. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he wheeled the collapsible conveyor into the center of the bay and released the crank. As the track snaked across the floor, two of Quarrel’s guards entered the bay. They glanced around, bemusement stamped on their squid-like features.
Lucus tossed a crate strap to the nearest guard. “Why don’t you get started over there by the door?”
Grumbling, the guards turned to the stacks of crates and began loading them onto the conveyor. Rini overlooked the operation, her face pinched with disapproval.
“Why don’t you wait up in the bridge?” When she didn’t budge, Lucus shook his head and swiped another crate strap from the bin. The hydraulic hiss and whine of the conveyor lowering its freight onto the waiting transport carts provided a noisy soundtrack while he hustled ass clearing his side of the bay. He almost missed the shout from one of the guards. Wiping his brow, he pivoted. “What?”
“This crate is ruined.”
“It can’t be. I checked them all before I left Warddok Ten.” Tossing the strap over his shoulder, Lucus walked towards the far wall. From a foot away, he spied the splintered crate sitting between the two guards. His stomach bottomed out. “How did it get like that?”
The guards both jerked their heads. He wouldn’t have thought it possible for alien mollusks to look terrified, but these two appeared ready to discharge some serious squid ink.
“We…we did not do it,” the chattiest of the guards stuttered.
“No? Well, I sure as hell didn’t. Who else could it have been?” Lucus stepped back, his attention snagging on a flash of red off to the side. Awareness slowly seeped into his brain. Swiveling, he stared at Rini.
She bit her bottom lip. “Sorry, I meant to tell you but forgot.”
Fury burst in Lucus’s head like an electron bomb. Seven long, angry strides brought him face-to-face with Rini. Her eyes widened as he crowded her against the large crate behind her. “Real convenient.”
“I know how it looks, but I honestly forgot.”
He leaned into her until a slip of paper wouldn’t find space between their plastered bodies. Her soft breasts pillowed against his chest but the static rage buzzing in his head didn’t let him enjoy it. “Bullshit. You’d like nothing more than to see my ass in the frying pan and you figured out the perfect means to deliver me there.”
She blinked and crammed harder against the crate, a useless attempt to put some distance between them. “Are you accusing me of deliberately damaging the crate? That’s crazy.”
“No, baby, that’s sabotage. But your plan backfired, because your ass is going in the frying pan with me. See, Quarrel isn’t as understanding about these things as I am and he’s going to be mighty pissed at the both of us.”
“Lucus, we’re citizens of the UGG. He can’t do anything to us. Plus he broke the law.”
His hands trembled with the urge to shake some sense into Rini. Instead, he shoved away from her and plowed his fingers through his hair. “You are damned naïve. Do you think Quarrel kowtows to any of the
laws cooked up by the UGG?”
“Maybe I am naïve. It’s better than willingly partnering with a lawless dictator.” She threw out her arms. “If everyone did that, the galaxies would be flooded with criminals and the innocent would be at their mercy. That’s not the type of universe I want to live in.”
“I didn’t willingly partner with Quarrel.” He never intended the admission to slip free but her heated declaration hit his defense button. Damn it, it wasn’t as if he wanted to live in a lawless universe—and his moral code wasn’t that much lower down the pole than hers.
“Are you saying he forced you?”
Oh shit. He recognized that tone. It reminded him of the one his ma used when he’d come home as a kid, all bloody and bruised from a recent round with the neighborhood bully. “Look, give me a second to think. Maybe I can find a crate to decoy as the damaged one.” If they were lucky, Quarrel wouldn’t discover the switcheroo until they were long gone.
And preferably after I’ve gotten a face transplant. Clenching his jaw, Lucus headed in the direction where he’d left the quaking guards. He stopped short, the handful of chips digesting in his stomach threatening to make an early checkout.
The guards and the damaged crate weren’t in the cargo bay.
He whipped his head around, hoping by some miracle the guards might have snuck past him and were in the back corridor of the ship. Nope. “Son of a bitch.”
Rini scooted forward. “What is it?”
“Babe, I think we’re about to get busted.”
Chapter Five
Rini jogged after Lucus as he hightailed it down the corridor. “What are you doing?”
“Getting us the hell off this planet.”
She almost stumbled trying to keep up with his breakneck clip. “But the rear doors aren’t secured. You’ll lose your cargo.”
“Yeah, better than losing our lives.”
Lucus slammed to a sudden halt and she smacked into him. She peeked around his broad shoulder and sucked in a breath. Four of General Quarrel’s guards blocked the entrance to the bridge, their electro-pulse rifles trained on her and Granger. Lucus took a wary step back, nudging her along with him. They got no farther than five paces before a hard object jammed against Rini’s skull. She didn’t need eyes in the back of her head to recognize the muzzle of a triple-scope pulse rifle. Gulping, she dug her nails into Lucus’s thick biceps, stalling his retreat.