Heart of a Smuggler

by Heart of a Smuggler (lit)

  “You mean apart from the fact that there’re slaves aboard my ship, I’m being blackmailed by both security and smugglers, and now I’ve got you as well?”

  “’Tis a good thing or bad thing that I’m lumped in with your responsibilities?”

  She gave a sheepish grin. “You’re the only good thing right now, trust me.”

  “’Tis pleased I am to hear it.” He nuzzled her nose with his.

  “Shamon... if anything happened to you...” She dropped her gaze.

  “Nothing will happen to me.”

  “If it did... nothing will be the same. I don’t know...” Her soft sigh puffed against his lips, making his toes almost curl in his boots.

  Shamon’s hand on her bottom flexed. Stars, if only he had a place he could take her to, a place he could lay them skin against skin, where he could shower her with kisses and reassure her how much he loved her.

  The thought stopped him in his tracks. He’d not told her how he felt. Should he? He studied her, the way her thick lashes lay against her cheeks as she continued to avoid his gaze. Would it unnerve her? Distract her during this time? He couldn’t risk it. Besides, when he told her, he wanted privacy, not a few seconds snatched before everything converged on them again.

  After this hellish mess was over, whether she protested or not, he was going to carry her away to Daamen, take her somewhere private, tell her he loved her, and then show her just how much.

  And she was never going to face danger again, he’d make sure of that. He’d just not let her know that. Shamon was no fool.

  “Anyway...” Those thick lashes lifted and her green gaze was warm. “You promise to keep your head down and run like a rabbit if the shit hits the fan.”

  “I promise.”

  “You don’t mean it, though.”

  “Nay, but I’ll say it to make you happy.”

  She laughed, and as always her laughter was like a sparkle of sunshine after rain, touching him with welcome warmth and making him laugh as well.

  He hugged her to him and kissed her.

  Gabie leaned into him and kissed him back.

  “Gabie!” Paz’s voice sounded down the corridor.

  Shamon groaned against her lips. “That boy picks the worst times!”

  “It’s a knack he has.” She kissed him again and pulled away. “In here, Paz!”

  “When this is over, lass, I’m taking you away where we won’t be interrupted, and I’m going to have my wicked way with you.” Shamon looked at her hungrily.

  “I’ll hold you to that.” With a grin, Gabie walked past him, giving him a heart smack on his backside as she did so.

  He lunged after her and she shrieked and dodged out the door into the corridor. When Shamon shot out after her, she was standing behind a startled Paz. Give the boy his due, he looked nervous but he didn’t back away.

  Shamon smiled and walked past him, giving his hair a fond ruffling. But as he passed Gabie, he reached back and swatted her on her luscious bottom. She yelped in surprise and Shamon grinned. Aye, life with the wench would never be dull, but first they had to get through this in one piece. His grin faded as he turned into the dining cabin where Misha was holding the little box of minuscule communicators and discussing them with Heddam and Olin.

  Regardless of what he told Gabie, he’d guard her with his life. One whiff of danger and he’d place himself in-between her and whoever sought to harm her. Without Gabie, his life would never be the same. If she died, the sun would leave his life forever.

  Heddam looked up as Shamon came to a halt near the table. “These communicators are the same ones Reya and Tenia had back in the Outlaw Sector.”

  “Aye?” Peering into the box, Shamon saw the tiny, miniscule communicators. “They look like it. How do they work?”

  “Same as the ones we used before. They attach to whatever you press them to. From memory, we attached ours to our earrings.”

  “I remember.” Shamon looked at Gabie as she came to a stop beside him. The wench didn’t have earrings, and nor did Misha, he saw when he shifted his gaze to her.

  “These are slightly different in that they adhere to skin.” Sticking her fingertip into the box, Misha withdrew one to show it stuck on her finger. She flicked her finger around, shook her hand and waved it in the air. The communicator stayed attached. “All we have to do is put them on the inside of our ears.”

  “How far inside?” Heddam looked warily at the communicators.

  “Just inside. Like this.” Placing her finger into her ear, she pressed slightly and withdrew her finger. “Just press it onto the inside flap.”

  “Flap?”

  “The piece coming from your head,” she said with a grin. “It’s halfway up facing the inside of your ear.”

  “Here.” Gabie touched his earlobe, ran her finger up to the top of the lobe, then turned her finger inwards and tapped the small flap above it again. “It won’t catch the light to reflect anything, and will be concealed.”

  “Right. It won’t fall off and disappear into my ear canal?” Shamon felt her every touch.

  “You big baby. Of course not. It won’t come out unless you press against it with your finger again, and then it’ll reattach to your finger.” She patted his arm. “You’ll be fine, honey. I promise.”

  Even Paz grinned.

  “Just think,” Olin mused. “These may save our lives.”

  “Oh yeah,” Misha said dryly. “I worship communicators.”

  And that brought to mind another little problem. “Speaking of saving lives,” Shamon murmured as Olin put the lid back on the communicators. “Mayhaps you’d care to explain a missing body?”

  “Huh?” Gabie blinked.

  “A dead slave on board?”

  “Oh. Well, one died and we shot her out into space.” Gabie took a step back.

  Shamon snagged her wrist.”If there’d been a sick person on board ship, you’d have been bawling your eyes out, wench. I’m not stupid. Now how about the real explanation?”

  “I’m hurt that you don’t believe me.”

  Give the wench credit, she did a fair job of looking hurt, too. But Shamon saw right through her.

  “The missing slave, wench. Where is she?”

  “And who was she?” Arms folded, Heddam swept the Larceny’s crew with a stern gaze. “’Tis a dangerous game you’re playing right now, and you added to it by releasing a slave.”

  “He wants a confession,” Misha said mildly.

  “Crap.” Gabie said.

  Shamon looked at Olin, who shrugged and yawned. Paz went paler than ever when Shamon speared him with a warning look.

  “There’s no big deal.” Resting her free hand on the table, Gabie slouched back against it. “One of the slaves was pregnant, so we sent her off with Emet.”

  “Pregnant?” Shamon didn’t like the sound of that. “Did Sabra know?”

  “Yep. But she wouldn’t take her, said the woman was being monitored with a tracking device, as all the slaves have on them. But Olin knew something about tracking devices and removed it, and we set the slave free and kept the tracking device. As far as anyone knew, she was still on board. We just got rid of the tracking device in space this morning, so as far as anyone knows she disappeared and we say she died. End of story.”

  “End of story?” Shamon couldn’t believe the satisfied expression on her gamine face. “Gabie, if that slave talks—”

  “She won’t,” Gabie assured him. “She’s Emet’s sister. He’s wanted, she’s wanted, they won’t talk. How’s that for a good plan?”

  He didn’t know whether to throttle her himself or applaud her actions. So he did the only thing he could do to retain his sanity—pinch the bridge of his nose, squeeze his eyes shut and take several deep, calming breaths.

  “I knew you’d see it our way.” Gabie cheerfully patted him on the arm and withdrew her wrist from his grasp. “Come on, people. We have to pretty ourselves up for the big meeting.”

  The crew left
the cabin and in the silence left behind Shamon opened his eyes to find himself looking at Heddam, who was trying to control his laughter.

  “Those people,” Shamon finally managed to say, “are a bloody danger to themselves.”

  Heddam started laughing out loud.

  “Where do they get their crazy ideas from?” Sitting down, Shamon rested his forehead in his palm.

  “You have to admire them.” Still chortling, Heddam sat on another chair. “They have soft hearts.”

  “To match their heads.”

  “I heard that!” Gabie yelled from beyond the door.

  “You would,” Shamon muttered.

  Heddam laughed harder.

  ~ * ~

  The Lewd Tavern didn’t match its name. There was only one tavern wench who looked half asleep and was slouched down on a stool at the bar. A handful of men sat at the tables. The bartender looked like he’d seen better days, and there wasn’t a bouncer in sight.

  “Wow, this place is full of life,” Gabie commented.

  Olin glanced around. “It’s jumping, all right.”

  They hadn’t gone inside four steps before two hard-eyed men in the corner got to their feet and strode across the room.

  “Here’s the welcoming committee.” Gabie watched them approach.

  “Keep your smart comments to yourself,” Shamon’s voice sounded in her ear.

  “Just being friendly.”

  The snort that sounded was open disbelief. How about that.

  The men looked nasty, hard-eyed and one had a viscous scar across one cheek. Lasers hung low on their hips, and they looked her over with a lust that made her skin crawl. Olin they dismissed with a brief look, which was a mistake, because Olin could be quick when he wanted to, one of the reasons Gabie had brought him along. But it was to their advantage if Tason’s men thought him of no consequence. It gave her and Olin the element of surprise if needed.

  “We’re here to check the merchandise,” one of the men said, his gaze raking across her breasts.

  “I’m sure.” Ignoring the crawl of her skin, Gabie gestured to them. “Come along. I’ve things to do and I want to get this over with.”

  Their laughter was low and mocking, but they followed. She felt their gazes on her as she walked, and she wished she’d worn a long coat instead of her usual short jacket. Yuck. She’d had this before, she could handle it.

  Oddly, it had never bothered her so much until she’d met Shamon. When Shamon watched her hungrily, it produced an entirely different sensation.

  It was a relief when the docking bay came in sight. Three spaceships were docked, the far one being the Larceny. Misha was waiting at the bottom of the ramp, her stance casual, but Gabie could see that her laser was loose in the holster. Her friend was primed for trouble.

  They might run like rabbits sometimes—all right, most times—but when cornered they could fight if they had to. Poor fighters, true, but they had been able to get themselves out of messes a couple of times.

  She just hoped this wasn’t going to be one of those times, though she wouldn’t have to worry. Shamon would rip the men’s heads off if they turned deadly.

  Misha nodded briefly to Gabie and Olin, didn’t bother to greet the men and fell into place behind them as they went up the ramp. Paz was standing by the control cabin door, and he looked decidedly ill when the men passed him with sneers.

  “Where are the slaves?” One of the men asked.

  “In these two cabins.” Gabie stood back.

  “Open the door of the first cabin.”

  Misha did so and the two women inside huddled against the back wall, their eyes wide with fear, visibly shaking.

  Damn it. Gabie looked away, not wanting to see their distress. She’d be glad when this was over. Cripes, all she wanted was to live a little boringly for a while. Yep, that’d do her. Smuggling wasn’t an option after this. She kept her gaze averted when the door to the cabin holding the male slaves was opened and then shut.

  “Right.” The man gestured to his friend. “Search the ship.”

  Gabie leaned back against the wall and waited. The search she didn’t fear. She had faith in the hiding compartments of her ship. They had been built in by Olin, and he didn’t look worried. The hidden compartments had never been discovered when the law had thoroughly searched the ships, and she doubted these two jerks would have any better luck.

  The man came back soon and shook his head. “Clear.”

  The first man looked at Gabie and leered. “Reckon you’re right to continue to the drop-off point.”

  “I am so pleased.”

  “Come with me to your control cabin and I’ll enter the coordinates.” He narrowed his eyes when Misha and Olin made to accompany them. “You three stay here.” He looked at his friend. “Guard them.”

  Misha’s lips tightened and Olin looked at Gabie.

  “Stay here,” she said.

  The man almost pushed her into the control cabin. He waved his laser at Paz, and Gabie gestured to him to leave. She was relieved but still wary when the man quickly entered the coordinates into the viscomm. Until he stood up.

  He moved fast, grabbing her hair and forcing her to her knees. Bending down over her, he said in a deadly quiet tone, “Don’t get any funny ideas of double-crossing Tason, bitch.”

  “The thought never crossed my mind.” She winced, unable to stop the gasp escaping her when he gave her head a cruel wrench.

  “You do anything stupid and Raznin will let us all have a piece of you.” He licked his lips, his gaze dropping to her breasts. “And I’m first in line. There’s a few of us to ride you, bitch, but Raznin will be the one to break you.”

  “Right.” She grabbed his wrist. “I don’t think he’s going to like it if I’m bald.” Tears pricked her eyes at the pain.

  She heard the low rumble of a growl through the communicator in her ear.

  Fourteen

  He shoved her hard and she crashed against the console. “Be seeing you, bitch.” He strode from the cabin.

  “Gabie!” Misha was in the cabin before the men had even made it into the stairwell. Falling to her knees beside Gabie, she helped her sit up. “Shit. Are you all right?”

  No, she felt like crying. “Of course I am. Geez, what is it with men and grabbing hair?” Rubbing her stinging scalp gingerly, she held on to Misha’s arm as she stood up.

  Olin was in next, worry stamped on his weathered face.

  Gabie held up her hand. “Steady on. I’m fine.”

  “What did he do to you?” Olin demanded.

  “Pulled my hair.” She smiled when all she wanted to do was sit down and shake, but falling apart in front of her friends wasn’t an option. “What is it with these sissy men? Kicks in the shins and hair pulling. Cripes, did no one teach them to hit like a man?”

  Paz ran back in. “They’re gone.”

  He leaped away just in time when Shamon came barrelling through the doorway with Heddam on his heels.

  Gabie was glad to see him, and when Shamon gathered her into his arms and hugged her fiercely she even managed not to wince as he accidentally squashed a new bruise.

  “Lass, are you all right?” Placing her back on her feet, he ran his hands gently across her cheeks, his gaze searching her face for marks.

  “Of course.” She smiled up at him, managing to swallow the lump in her throat. “They fight like girls. I can handle that.”

  “Your hair...” Fury burned in his eyes and a muscle ticked in his jaw, but his hands were tender as they lightly brushed across her head, his fingers undoing the tie so that her hair spilled free around her shoulders.

  Alarmed, she put her hand up and felt around. “What? He yanked a patch out?”

  “’Tis the least of your worries—”

  “Misha!”

  “Your hair is fine. Messy, but fine.”

  Misha’s voice came from the corridor, and now Gabie saw that the cabin was empty apart from she and Shamon. And that was when she
stopped fussing with her hair and looked up at him. She tried, she really did, but her bottom lip trembled a little and he saw it. Fury and anguish fought for supremacy in his eyes and he picked her up by the simple process of putting his hands each side of her ribcage and lifting. When she was on eye level, he pressed his cheek to hers.

  “God, lass.”

  Leaning full against him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. His grip shifted and then his arms were wrapped around her. She didn’t care that a bruise on her back bit like hell under his arm, all she cared about was that for now she felt safe. His embrace was a safe haven. And while she wouldn’t cry in front of her friends, she didn’t mind being weaker in front of Shamon.

  Life was strange. But who gave a vagrat’s arse anyway?

  She gave a little sniff.

  “Gabs.” It was all he said, but his voice held a wealth of emotions. Fury, sadness, even a hint of...

  “Cripes, Shamon, you’re not crying, are you?” Turning her head, she buried her face in his thick, shaggy hair and breathed deeply of his clean, masculine scent.

  “Nay.” But his voice was thick.

  That almost broke her heart, so she did what she always did to cope with unexpected situations. “We don’t have time for crying. And I can’t very well sit you on my lap and rub your back.”

  “God, lass, do you have any idea what torture ’tis to know you’re being threatened and be unable to do anything about it?”

  “I’m guessing it wasn’t easy.” Lifting her head, she pulled back enough to look at him.

  His eyes burned with fury, but there was guilt mixed in, too. Regardless of the situation, Shamon felt guilty.

  “This is pointless, Shamon.” Gabie tapped his nose lovingly. “You can’t feel guilty about what you can’t fix.”

  His normally merry brown eyes hardened. “I’ll be exacting some revenge later, lass, don’t worry about that.”

  “I’m not worried, as long as you don’t go haywire and try to get that revenge before security shows up.” She gave his face a little pat. “We have to leave now or those men will wonder why we haven’t flown off already. I don’t want them back. Let me down.”

  He held her for a few seconds longer, and she saw the emotions chasing through his eyes. In those few seconds, with their faces so close, she saw another emotion in his eyes, something that turned them warm and soft and tender and almost... loving.