by Imogene Nix
He palmed open the door, entered, and gave the command to lock once more. Raven stalked through the office to his bedroom. He deposited her gently on the bed and pulled up the thick, satiny-blue covers. Raven disappeared back toward his office only to reappear a few minutes later with warm drinks for both of them and a steaming face washer to soothe her sore eyes. Jemma accepted both gratefully. Hiccupping softly, she focused on wiping her face clear then holding the clean side across her upper face.
“You know, I wouldn’t normally do that. It’s not who I am.” She was so embarrassed he had seen her sobbing like that and the face she’d presented.
“I know, sweetheart. But maybe this time you can let go because there’s someone you can lean on.” Raven sat down on the bed beside her. He gathered her in his arms, and God, how she wanted to accept that strength. “Maybe it’s time to let go of control and hold onto me.”
“But Raven, I’m scared. What if I do that and it goes wrong? I mean, look at what happened this time—”
Raven cut her off swiftly. “Jemma, sometimes in life you have to take a leap of faith. Yes, it could go wrong. We don’t know what’ll happen in the long term, but maybe, just maybe, what we have is the real thing. Are you prepared to hide from an opportunity like that?”
He turned her in his arms to face him. “I know how I feel about you.” His eyes blazed, and she sat looking at the wonderful man who kept saying he wanted to be with her. “There are no questions left for me. But you need to work out if it’s right for you.”
He pulled her close, just holding her in his arms. There was nothing sexual in the way that he held her, and she stayed still. The comfort spread through her like a warm haze on a summer’s day, and she soaked it up, letting the cold that had seeped into her bones disappear.
* * * *
Jemma woke with a start, her stomach rumbling loudly, and she heard voices beyond her line of sight. They sounded angry, yet quiet. She sat up, trying to orient herself and listen at the same time. The soothing blue of the room, the large bed, and the smell of Raven all around her reminded her of where she was. She’d fallen asleep in his bed after that conversation.
Jemma felt woolly-headed and confused, but she pushed the covers out of the way and rose slowly. She stretched and padded through the doorway.
Raven stood facing Duvall. “No. She’s having dinner with me. After the way you ripped into her today, there’s no way she’s going to have dinner with you and Mellissa on her own, not without me there, and to be frank, I wouldn’t eat with you right now even if you were the last people in the universe.”
“For Eshra’s sake. What do you think I’m going to do? Run off with your girl or make her cry? Mellissa already carpeted me, straight after you left.” Duvall’s voice sounded frustrated. He inhaled deeply, then continued. “We thought dinner in our cabin, maybe the eight of us, will help to break the ice after my outburst. I still need to talk to her, though, and let her know I was out of line.”
Jemma hooked the stray stands of hair behind her ear. She felt grubby and disheveled, and in no way ready to deal with the emotional fallout, but she refused to allow Raven to take all the heat.
“Duvall, you were way out of line. I’ve no intention of upsetting the ship, but what’s between Raven and I...well, it’s our business.” Jemma moved silently through the doorway and into the room. Both men looked shocked to see her. “I can tell you that we have no intention of letting things get out of hand, even if it doesn’t work out.” She watched Duvall’s face intently. “After all, we’re all adults aboard this ship, and I’m only here until the end of the mission.”
Could he understand and accept what she was saying? For the first time, she felt like maybe she was in some way equal to the others, as if maybe she did have a place here. It was only a whisper-thin feeling of belonging, but it was more than she’d felt in a long time.
“I’m sorry, Jem. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Raven looked cross with himself and Duvall. The hard look he gave Duvall indicated that she’d read the situation correctly.
Duvall continued to look upset that he’d found her there and that she’d overheard what he’d obviously been meaning to say to her later, in private. This was, after all, a man who didn’t like to be taken unaware or proven wrong, Jemma reminded herself.
“It’s okay, Raven.” She moved around him soundlessly. “Duvall, you had no right to attack me the way you did, but I can understand that you felt uncomfortable about the whole Raven-and-me thing. For now though, I think we should just let it go. If we don’t, things might only get worse between us, and to be frank, until we get through this mission, we don’t need any more angst.”
She smiled, hoping to smooth out any bite from her words. She waited for his response. For some reason, it was important that he understood what she’d tried to say. Her body tightly clenched as she waited for his reaction.
“Good then. Right, Mellissa wants you both to join us for dinner. I think the eight of us, something fun before we get into the meat of the mission. Say 1800 hours, my office.” He turned and headed toward the door, stopped, and looked back. For a moment, the discomfort at being so wrong showed in his face, together with the dismay he felt. “I am sorry for what I said. It was very wrong of me. It certainly wasn’t my intent to wound you, and if this relationship works for you, then that’s terrific. I just have to consider all my crew and the way it could impact if things do go wrong.” A brief nod of his head to Raven, then he palmed the door and was gone.
“It’s not okay at all,” growled Raven, looking fiercely at her. “We should have said we were skipping the dinner.”
“Now probably isn’t the right time for a bloody fight. We need to be on our game, and taking this on right now means we’re not concentrating on the important things. Like staying alive. Like being together. Now, I don’t know about you, but I think my eyes are puffy and I need a shower and makeup.”
She walked back to his bathroom, stripping off her clothes as she went. Sure, she wasn’t over it. She felt frayed around the edges and battered by emotions she never really wanted to experience. In some ways, Duvall was right. They needed a circuit breaker before the battle ahead.
As Jemma reached the doorway, she turned and was startled to see Raven right behind her. He had also started removing his clothes. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” she asked.
“Well, I find I have a hankering for a shower with the most beautiful woman in the galaxy.” He leaned in and kissed her softly. “I’m sure you need a slave to wash your delectable back.” He grinned wickedly at her.
“No, Raven. You shouldn’t.” Her arguments grew weak as he cupped her bare breasts.
“Yes, I should. Nothing you don’t want, and no sex involved. But you deserve tender loving care and I want to give it to you,” he whispered into her ear, and God help her, she melted against him. He pushed her into the shower. “Hot shower, wide flow.”
The water started through the head of the nozzle, which pushed out enough for both of them to fit under as he pushed in behind her. She could feel him, every inch, against her body.
He hefted the soap and lathered his hands, which he gently transferred to her wet body. She closed her eyes, feeling his supple hands sliding over her flesh, warming her wherever his fingers touched. His insistent erection burned into her from behind. She sighed.
Hands gripped her shoulders and turned her toward him, and she opened her eyes. His eyes blazed down, his face flushed with exertion as his chest rose and fell.
She wanted him, here in the shower, right now. She burned for the touch of his body against hers. She felt his shaft jutting against her belly and moved closer. He stepped back as much as the small stall allowed. She stood watching him, feeling the delicious, sensual flow of water sheeting over puckered nipples. Waiting. Aching.
He lathered his hands again, and this time the sliding touch over her breasts made her writhe beneath the soft touches. She moaned low in her throat. His
hands left her body, and she let her eyes open.
“Nothing sexual. I promised, and I mean it.” His voice was rough. “Shower off.”
She watched as he reached for towels, wrapping one around his waist and moving forward to rub her dry. It had never been like this before, as she mutely accepted the tribute, still confused but feeling cherished in a way she had never experienced. She mentally shrugged her shoulders as she reached for her clothes.
* * * *
Raven watched as Jemma dressed her magnificent body. He was still aroused from the shower. He wanted to touch her, but he knew in his gut that if he rushed her, everything he’d regained would be lost.
“What is my makeup doing here?” She speared him with a glance and his face heated.
“I knew you’d want it, so I grabbed it while you slept.”
Her expression softened. “Thank you, Raven. You really are the most thoughtful man I’ve ever known.” The tender kiss she gifted him with didn’t help his urgent desire, so he stepped back as a trickle of sweat wound its way down his back.
He knew that she would want to cover her face with makeup. It was a defensive shield that she hid her true self behind, and he understood her need. For now, he would be patient.
Together they left his cabin. He itched to grab her hand and proclaim to the world that she was his, but he restrained himself. His fingers curled into fists.
They reached the door to Duvall’s cabin, and he made sure he went in first. It was instinctual, he knew, to protect the woman he loved. He knew she could protect herself on a physical level—he’d seen her scores from the academy—but emotionally, he knew she had few defenses. Those that she’d used as barriers were seriously depleted right now.
He sighed inwardly as she entered the room. Mellissa made her way over to Jemma, and he watched Jemma tense. He wanted to step in but knew that this was necessary. He would be here in case she needed him though.
“Jemma, I’m so pleased to see you. How are you feeling?” Mellissa enfolded her into a hug. So far so good, he thought.
“Thanks, Liss. Yeah, I don’t feel too bad, all things considered.”
“Now, that outburst from Duvall...”
Raven braced himself, ready to cut into the conversation as he watched Jemma stiffen slightly.
“He was so out of line, and I told him so. He was wrong. You’re entitled to a personal life. I have to say, you’ve got good taste. If I wasn’t married to Duvall, I may just have been interested in Raven. Good thing you got him first.” She whispered loud enough for him to hear, and he had to work hard to keep his embarrassment from showing.
You never hear what you want to hear when you eavesdrop, he reminded himself. Over the next few minutes, the others joined them. Elara and Grayson. Chowd and Meredith too.
As the company gathered Duvall strode into the room, and Raven felt his body tensing. Duvall moved toward Jemma, and once there, he stopped. “Jemma, I owe you an apology. My outburst was wrong, and in front of everyone, I want to welcome you to the Elector officially.” His words sounded stilted, and Raven could see his discomfort. He never did like to apologize.
Jemma reached out toward him, briefly touching his shoulder. “Thanks, Duvall. I really do appreciate it.”
She smiled, but he could see the wariness in the corners of her eyes. She hid it well, but he could see it was still there—a distrust of what Duvall had said. He waited silently to see what would happen next.
Mellissa sat down at the converted conference table, and the rest of the senior crew—Elara, Grayson, and Chowd—found spots, as did Meredith. Raven reached for Jemma’s hand and led her to a seat. His awareness of the watching audience made him weigh and measure his actions. It buzzed through his system, but he ignored the interested looks. He was going to enjoy the night with his girl.
Chapter 13
They touched down, and Crick Sur Banden made his way out of the hatch, turning to watch the pallet following him. His future consort lay supine on it. Since considering her as a possible mother of his offspring, he’d felt it appropriate that she be treated as such. An infiltrator in his ranks should be punished, and what better way than to impregnate her and make her incubate his young? He felt some distaste at the smell of her, but that he could ignore as he used her body. After all, she was only needed to bear his child.
He was surprised that, this time, the girl was taking longer to heal. Perhaps he should have found another specimen for his scientists to conduct their research on. He would have to ensure she wasn’t used again in the short term, at least until his young was born; after that, he really didn’t care what happened to her.
A flash of interest flared. “It will be interesting to see how quickly she heals this time and the effects of bearing a Ru’Edanian child.”
“Sire?” The healer must have caught his low words.
“Nothing.” With a wave of his arm, he dismissed the medic and flicked his gaze around the barren landscape. The purple grass waved softly in the breeze under an azure sky, but the walls of the red-striated canyons rose in the north, making this an ideal location for a bunker. He watched as his second-in-command made his way toward him.
“Are the defenses in place? I’m expecting them to arrive soon. “
“Yes, sir. The pirates confirmed that they entered the hyperspace corridor, and I would expect them to arrive within days. They encountered resistance when the ship was powered down, and they lost a number of pilots in the skirmish.”
“How careless.” His mind conjured images of a damaged Elector running from its foes.
“However, we still don’t know the reason why the ship stopped. We know they have a combat pilot aboard of great skill.” His second bowed low as he relayed the information. “I’ve arranged enough markers to be set in place so they can find us, but not so easily that they’d consider it a trap. But sir, I have to ask, is it so important to neutralize Duvall McCord? What if they bring in this pilot? We know they lost the fighter plane, but if they can find us with something smaller, they will have had time to make amendments to a ship, placing our defenses in danger. Could we not seek his destruction after we take control of the Empire?”
“What?” The word burst out of stiff lips. He watched as the officer backed off, dropping once more to a servile bow. “He took what was mine and turned him against his own! He must pay, and the sooner the better. The lost needs to return to the fold, and if that means removing the one who stole him, all the better.”
A film of anger overlayed everything and his hands shook. With great effort he forced the vicious bite of fury away. They were fodder not strategists… Only he knew and understood.
“He will be by my side when we triumphantly walk through the corridors of the Empire Chambers.” He spat out the words, and he could see that he had cowed the officer once more. But the seed of concern had been sowed—if his second-in-command was questioning his authority, then perhaps he was not the one who should be at his side. It could damage his role as leader of the rogues.
But who else was there at this point? It should be his son. It will be my son.
He smiled, a feral lifting of the sides of his mouth, showing razor-sharp teeth. “Now come, you’re my second-in-command. It is right that you should ask these questions.” His words were silky, but in the back of his mind, he considered what he needed to do. Keep this one only until he had his son back within the fold. Yes, that will do nicely.
The point was made for now—don’t question why things must be so. He would see his actions and orders carried out, and as an act of faith, once he had his offspring back under his command, he would have his son kill this worm. After all, they were all dispensable, no matter how much they may have done in the past. They were all no more than cockroaches beneath his feet. They may once have seemed compliant, but he knew what they did behind his back. Did they think he didn’t know?
Once he had control, then he could do away with the Senate and install his offspring into a positio
n of power. The thought stabilized his emotions. He smiled once more. “The girl. When do the medics believe she will be ready for her new role as my consort?”
“They say that there was more extensive damage sustained during the last session and that they are looking at her spine. They have also mentioned the possibility of reproductive damage. They will hopefully have her ready within a week, sir.” The younger Ru’Edan shook before him, his gray face taking on a red sheen and his yellow eyes flickering nervously from one side to the other.
“Good. I want to know as soon as she’s ready. She will need to then be cleaned and dressed appropriately for her new position.” With that, he turned and entered the underground bunker. Most of the Earth creatures that had been there had been eliminated, but he could still smell the stink of them. He screwed up his face in distaste.
The bodies had been removed and placed into piles, ready to burn. Those that they hadn’t killed would remain, especially the women. They would make excellent slaves, preparing their food and warming his rogues’ beds. That would settle any mutiny for now.
He nodded to himself. Yes, everything was going to plan. He would have his showdown with Duvall McCord, and he’d have his son very soon.
* * * *
Jemma stretched sore arms above her head. Days in hyperspace had passed by, and they expected to exit within the next few hours. The removal of the fittings on the shuttle were finally completed. She had worked for many hours with Chowd and Grayson to find the most defensible points for their entry into the atmosphere and the best place to hide the stealth ship from detection. She was quietly pleased with her efforts.
The relationship thing still caused her the most disquiet in the time they had traveled through hyperspace. Since Duvall’s outburst, she had remained doubly careful to keep businesslike and distant when she was on duty, but in her private hours...well, there was no escaping Raven.