Her friends were chewing their lips while they watched anxiously as Olin applied anaesthetic.
“Could have done with that before the antiseptic,” Gabie informed him.
“Can’t risk germs,” he grunted back. “Stop whining.”
Shamon squeezed her fingers gently. Finally he raised his gaze to hers and the tenderness in the brown depths made her smile slightly.
“I’m glad you find this so amusing,” Des snapped. “Damn it, Gabie, you were told not to antagonize that bastard!”
“Who? Olin?” That was funny.
Even Misha thought it was funny.
Des didn’t think it was funny. “Are you insane? You were bloody told to obey orders. You wouldn’t even listen to us!”
“Hey, be kind,” Misha chided. “She’s hurt.”
“You can talk. What the hell were you doing pulling a bloody laser?”
“It was automatic. It’s something I do when it looks like my friends are in danger.”
“You were told to obey orders!” Des ran one hand over face. “Shit!”
Shamon just smiled at Gabie.
She smiled back.
“Why can you never do as you’re told?” Sabra asked quietly from where she leaned against a nearby wall watching Olin work.
“Well pardon me for being tired of having my hair nearly yanked out of my head,” Gabie replied. “Oh yeah, and for being tired of being slapped around and—yuck—having that jerk try to kiss me.” She shuddered. “I dare you to stand still while that’s happening.”
“You could have waited.” Sabra’s gaze flickered to Shamon but her words were directed at Gabie. ‘What about that kick that broke Tason’s knee? What was that about?”
“That was a lucky shot.”
Simon, who was standing slightly behind Des, had a gleam of amusement in his eyes.
“Most impressive,” Misha put in.
“’Tis my lass.” Shamon squeezed her fingers again, his gaze approving.
“You might have gotten away unharmed if you’d only obeyed orders,” Sabra repeated, though she had a resigned expression on her face.
“I told you we weren’t cut out for this,” Gabie reminded her. “W run like rabbits, or we panic and fight. What choice did we have? We sure as hell couldn’t run.”
Freeman laughed outright.
“Shut your cakehole,” Des told him sharply. “This isn’t funny.”
“Well, it sort of is.” He guffawed.
She turned away in disgust and caught sight of the grin on Simon’s face. Her eyes narrowed and she sucked in air. “And what the hell were you doing so close by, anyway?”
“Trading, lass, what else?” Arms folded across his massive chest, he looked down at his wife standing by his side.
“Trading? What trading do you have in this area?”
“A bit of this, a bit of that. The usual.”
“You better show me your schedule, trader.” Scowling, she poked him in one massive pectoral. “And it better be real.”
“Lass, you wound me.”
“Don’t push it.” Her brown eyes, so pale they were almost yellow, flashed with temper. “How did you know where to come?”
“Just luck. We flew over, I recognized the Larceny and saw the trouble.” His eyes were totally innocent. “My friend was down here. ’Twas nothing I could do but aid him.”
“You keep up that innocent shit and you’ll need aid yourself.”
“From you?” His teeth gleamed in an almost predatory grin. “I can’t wait.”
Big tough Des blushed. Gabie stared in amazement. Freeman was laughing in his normally annoying fashion. Heddam grinned. Sabra just looked even more resigned.
Besides, staring at a flustered Des was more fun than watching Olin thread the needle he held in his fingers.
“You keep up those wise cracks and you’ll be in trouble,” Des said heatedly, trying to recover her composure.
Simon leaned down and whispered something in her ear. Well, hello. There was a flare of heat in her eyes and then that blush just got a little redder. Simon looked so pleased with himself that Gabie wanted to laugh. Unfortunately, it was all she could do to control the nausea roiling inside her as she felt the push of the needle in her flesh. True, it didn’t hurt, but the thought was sickening regardless.
Misha came to her rescue by diverting her attention. “So we’re free to go now, huh?”
“Nay.” Sabra watched the needle going in and out of Gabie’s arm without expression.
“What?” Gabie looked at her. “We did as you wanted. You got Raznin and Tason. We’re done.”
“You’re witnesses when the trial is brought to the IPS Council court.”
“What? When’s that?”
“When this is finished, which will be soon. We only have to find one more piece of information, though we may still have enough if we can break Raznin and Tason.”
“I’ll break them.” Shamon’s deep voice drew Gabie’s attention to him once more.
Yeah, he looked like he’d break them in half. That fury had just been banked in his eyes before, now it flared full force.
“You nearly broke them already,” Sabra replied. “But I need them breathing.”
Shamon didn’t look convinced. Gabie gave him an encouraging smile and squeezed his fingers. “My hero. You did look fierce out there, tossing that sack of shit around.”
“If your friends hadn’t dragged you off, you’d have torn him in half,” Paz added. “I’d have liked to have seen that.”
The vehemence in the youth’s voice startled Gabie and she looked at him. His pale cheeks were flushed and anger burned in his eyes. Along with a sheen of tears. Whoa. That was unexpected.
“Paz,” she said soothingly. “It’s all right. It’s over.”
“He hurt you, Gabie. If Shamon hadn’t grabbed him, you could be hurt even worse.”
“Yeah, but it didn’t happen. Security wouldn’t have let him kill me, right?” Gabie glanced at Des.
“It hurts to say this, but you’re right. We’d have saved your sorry arse.”
“Cripes, thanks for caring.”
“I wanted to kill Raznin and Tason myself.” Paz abruptly left the cabin.
Gabie started to stand up, only to have Shamon’s fingers tighten and Olin push her shoulder down.
“Sit still,” the old man ordered her gruffly. “You can see to the boy after.”
“Paz needs me—”
“I’ll go.” Simon pushed away from the bench.
“Simon, you don’t need to go—”
“Yes, he does.” Sabra looked directly at Gabie. “Paz needs a man right now, not a wench’s touch.”
“Listen, I know Paz—”
“And I know men. Paz is a young bloke and he needs a man to talk to. Olin is busy, and your boy needs someone right now.”
“She’s right,” Shamon said quietly. “Paz has emotions that only another man could fathom.”
Well, that left Gabie feeling very unwanted and useless. She glanced up to see Misha with exactly the same expression and felt a little better. Misery loves company.
“Besides, we have other arrangements to sort out,” Sabra continued. “The Larceny will be towed back to the IPS and you and your crew will travel aboard our security ship.”
“What?” Startled, Gabie transferred her gaze to Sabra. “Why?”
“Because you are witnesses in an upcoming court case and too valuable to lose.”
“Hey, we’d come back.”
“Right now you are all under protective custody.” Sabra studied her calmly. “You will stay in custody abroad the IPS. Once the court case is over, you’re free to go.”
“So you’re imprisoning us?”
“Not at all. You’re free to move around the IPS as you’ll be monitored at all times.”
“Hey,” Misha said. “That’s not freedom.”
“It’s your best offer. I could just keep you under lock and key.”
; Somehow Gabie just wasn’t surprised by the whole thing. With a sigh, she looked down at her arm, which Olin was covering with a very large self-adhesive patch.
At least she wasn’t going to get the stuffing belted out of her any time soon. That just had to be a bright spot. Not to mention her scalp would get some relief from all the hair yanking it had suffered lately. Whoo hoo, another bright spot. Things were looking up. She sighed.
“Gabie, Misha, Olin and Paz could travel with us,” Heddam suggested.
“No,” Des said immediately.
“’Tis a good idea,” he insisted. “Paz gets to hang around with young Torkra and Mikal, which will give him something else to think about. ’Tis plenty of room for Olin to lie around and sleep—”
Olin sent him a sour look.
“Misha can play cards and things with the others and amuse herself by cheating them out of as many dinnos as they’re silly enough to part with,” he continued, “And Shamon and Gabie get time to... uh... recuperate.”
“Is that right?” Des gave him a hard look.
“Shamon’s been stressed lately.” Heddam nodded seriously. “He needs some downtime with his wench.”
“Oh yes, down time is exactly what he probably does want.”
“You can stay guard on our ship,” he added enticingly. “Take Simon in hand. You said yourself he’s in trouble.”
Even Sabra grinned.
“’Tis a good idea,” Shamon agreed. “I’ll not lie. I’ll feel better if Gabie is with me. After today...” He looked steadily at Gabie before turning his gaze to Sabra. “Please,” he said simply.
Cripes, what woman could turn down that look? That plea? It even made Gabie’s heart melt.
Sabra wasn’t a pushover, though. She eyed her big friend and fellow Daamen back just as steadily.
“You know we can protect them all,” he continued. “We will. And we’ll be right behind you. If you want, you can send other security aboard.”
The silence stretched as she looked at him consideringly.
“What harm can there be?” Freeman asked cheerfully from where he lounged in one of the big armchairs which completely dwarfed him. “We’re going the same way, travelling together, everyone is happy. Sounds good to me.”
“Anything sounds good to you,” Des shot at him.
“What are you worried about? You get to spend time with Simon.”
“I’m on duty.”
“I hear he loves it when you play the tough security officer.”
Gabie was half expecting Des to jump all over the smaller man. Des was a woman, but she was tall, well-built, had a mouth like a sewer and was as tough as nails.
Except when it came to her husband, Simon, obviously.
Actually, Gabie didn’t want to travel on the security ship. She felt much more comfortable on the big trade ship, amongst friends. With Shamon. She looked at him and his smile was warm, his gaze warmer.
Cripes. She was warmer.
“All right.” Sabra decided. “We have the extra people on board with the freed slaves anyway. If Simon is in agreement, you lot can travel aboard the trade ship. Des, you go with them.”
“As if Simon wouldn’t agree to time with Des,” Freeman said. “I just bet you’re jealous because it’s not Cam’s ship, Sabra.”
“Shut your cakehole,” Sabra and Des said at the same time.
“A man can’t say anything anymore,” he returned cheerfully.
~ * ~
Checking his clothes in the mirror once more, Mellar angled his head from side to side. Even after all this time, he was still a good-looking man. It would be easy to find another wife amongst these high-class people.
Cheran, as always, watched impassively from his place by the door. In his arms he held Mellar’s rich, fur-trimmed robe.
“Have you spotted any likely pickings amongst the females?” Mellar held out his arms and watched as the robe settled around his shoulders.
“There are some young ones. Very pretty.”
“Good. Good.” He arched one brow at him in the mirror. “Have you heard back?”
“All went well.”
“Excellent!” Clapping his hands enthusiastically, he crossed to the table, poured a goblet of wine and downed it in one gulp. “Then let’s get on with the hunt for my next wife!”
Opening the door to his chambers, he stepped out into the corridor. People came from both directions. It was a thriving, chattering throng, and he revelled in it.
~ * ~
Misha and Gabie settled into the one spare cabin on board the big trade ship. Paz was sharing with Mikal, and Olin had Shamon’s bunk.
Shamon was sleeping on the big sofa in the huge dining/living cabin. In the dim light from the corridor he looked almost angelic. Kneeling by his side, a glass of icy berry juice in her hand, Gabie studied him. Apart from his size, he didn’t look anything like the raging giant who’d come to her defence and nearly killed a man the security wanted alive. He’d been almost possessed.
She’d been half scared security would have to hurt him to get him away from Raznin, and it was with relief she’d seen the other traders come piling out of their trade ship.
Since she and her friends had come onboard the trade ship that morning, he’d treated her very carefully, making her rest after she’d cleaned up, ensuring she had everything she wanted at her fingertips, hovering around her like a mother hen.
It was sweet, but she didn’t want a mother hen. She wanted a lover.
Shamon.
Leaning one elbow on the armrest, she rested her chin on her hand and studied him.
His lashes, thick and black, lay lightly against the tanned skin of his cheekbones. His lips were relaxed in sleep, slightly parted. That strong jaw was still strong, but it couldn’t detract from the gentling of sleep.
The cover he had draped across his body from the waist down. From the waist up he was naked, his muscles hard dips and swells in the dimness. Was he naked from the waist down? Somehow she doubted it, not with Misha aboard and sleeping in what was basically a public cabin.
Reaching out with one finger, she stroked back a thick lock of fair hair, pushing it back over one broad shoulder. What was it about Shamon that attracted her so much? Sure, he was dangerously handsome, but all the Daamens were. She’d met many of the different crews to know that. They were a handsome, good-natured people. But none had attracted her.
None had made her yearn for their touch, or filled up a corner of her mind. And considering how full her mind could sometimes be with schemes, just the fact that Shamon could invade her thoughts so easily was shocking in itself.
Just the thought of maybe not seeing him after all this was over was enough to make her breath hitch.
But why was she worried? He’d said himself he wanted a relationship, to go further. She’d seen it in his eyes, something more than just attraction to her. Seen it but wasn’t sure if she could trust it.
Sitting back on her heels, she took a sip of the berry juice. When he’d come roaring to her rescue, she’d been shit-scared he’d get his head shot off. She really had. For one awful minute when it looked like he would kill Raznin, all she could think was that he was risking his life for her, and if he died, she’d die right along with him.
Because she couldn’t bear the thought of life without him.
Vagrats. All this excitement was bad for her. It made her maudlin. She blinked back a tear, took another sip of juice and started arguing with the little voice inside her head.
All right. Do you love him?
I don’t know.
You must know.
I don’t know enough about relationships to know.
Go with your gut.
I could have had that slit open today.
Ha-ha. Focus.
If I’d die without him, that must mean I love him.
You could be right.
I think I’m right.
What if you’re wrong?
I think too much. I nee
d to go with the flow.
Are you avoiding thinking of it?
I’m thinking of it now. How is that avoiding it?
Do you love him?
I guess so.
Oops. Well, there it was. She guessed she loved him. But how did she know for sure? Bummer. She needed a sure sign. As Misha said, sometimes she was thick in matters close to home and this was likely one of them. Maybe she was just infatuated with Shamon and not actually in love. Could infatuation kill you if the object of your desire died?
Life would be easier if a big neon sign in her head would just flare up with “You’re In Love” flashing on it, then she’d know. Sheesh, what did she know of love and men? Nothing. Maybe. She’d sure never given her virginity to anyone. Until Shamon.
“You think any harder, lass, and you’ll give yourself a nose bleed.”
Startled, she refocused her attention to find Shamon regarding her from sleepy eyes.
“I’ll try not to get any on the carpet.” She held up the glass. “Want a sip?”
Coming up onto one elbow, all that glorious shaggy hair spilling over his shoulders, Shamon took the glass from her. “Are you all right, Gabs?”
“Sure. I always kneel by men and offer them drinks.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement as he took a swallow of the berry juice. His head tilted back with another swallow and it took all her discipline not to reach out and trace the strong cords in his throat.
Lowering the glass, he handed it back to Gabie. “Nice.”
“I thought so.” And she didn’t mean the drink.
One dark brow arched up, and his eyes lost that sleepy look. Interest sparked in them as he glanced down her night-gown clad body. Then his attention snagged on the big self-adhesive patch on her arm and he reached out to lightly touch her skin above the path.
“Are you sore? We have some painkillers in the medikit.”
“I’m fine. Olin gave me a heap of painkillers because he knows what a wussy I am when it comes to pain.” Gabie took a slow sip of berry juice. “How about you?”
“I’m fine.” He echoed her words. “So why are you here and not tucked up in bed?”
She looked at him for several long seconds. Oh, to hell with it. Placing her glass on the table behind her, she moved forward fast, framing his cheeks with her hands and kissing him. Long and deep. Just like he always did to her. Drugging his senses, tasting him, and feeling his response come swiftly.
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