by Kylie Scott
"But I promised to be there today."
"You're serious about this?"
"Yes. I am."
The door com chimed and she slid from the bed, wrapped herself in her robe while her husband scowled at her. A lot like a spoiled child.
"How long will these jobs take?" he asked, with a definite hard edge to his voice, a snarly one. Which shouldn't have been hot in the least, but he was buck-ass naked, the cheat.
"Five to six hours, normally. They're really low on staff right now, Adam. I'm not going to leave them in the lurch. Especially not when I gave my word."
She swiped her hand across the sensor. A fine-looking, straight-standing man waited at the door in a black company uniform. His brown hair had been neatly combed. She shoved a hand through her own and hoped for the best. Maybe she should have made Adam answer the door.
"Hello," she said.
"Mrs. Elliot, it's good to meet you. Though the circumstances are not what I'd wish." The man put a hand out for shaking and she took it. He had spoken at the memorial, she remembered. His grip was firm but not too firm, and his smile warm. Mid-forties, perhaps? A good-looking mid-forties. His gaze held hers as he shook her hand, and for some reason she couldn't look away. He had a definite presence.
"Chief." Her husband appeared beside her dressed in pants and a T-shirt. Adam slid an arm around her waist, drawing her against his side. Staking his claim, maybe. "Princess, this is the chief of operations, Nathan Hillier."
An amused smile flashed across the chief's face at the mention of her moniker and he ducked his head, presumably to hide it for her sake. Bless her husband for opening his mouth.
"Come on in." Her husband waved the man forward and the door slid shut behind him.
"Thank you. Adam, we've had a communique from your mother. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I'm afraid your father suffered a terminal heart attack. He passed at 1:20 a.m. yesterday." The chief's brow furrowed and he watched her husband closely. "I can get you on a ship in two days' time. It's only a freighter, but it's the best I can do at short notice. Your mother has indicated that she's willing to delay the funeral for you to be there, or hold a second ceremony upon your arrival."
"That won't be necessary." Adam's hand tensed on her hip but his voice stayed calm. "Thanks for the offer."
"Are you sure?"
"Very."
"All right." The chief's lips thinned and his eyes honed in on her husband with a kind of bleak, unhappy understanding. "They're expecting word back. Wouldn't you like to send something yourself?"
"No. Thank you."
The chief's gaze slid to her, but she had nothing to offer. She knew nothing of this situation with his family, not yet.
"All right." The chief lifted a hand to the scanner and the door silently opened. "Let me know if you change your mind, Ad."
"I will." Her husband blinked repeatedly as the door slid closed. His jaw moved as if he were grinding stones with his teeth.
His father. How horrible. Her heart ached for him.
Her own parents had passed in a shuttle crash four years ago. It had been devastating. The loss had crushed her for a time and Con had been her solace, her strength. He hadn't always been about greed and duplicity. Once upon a time he'd just been her boyfriend, the supposed love of her life. But he'd loved money more than he had her.
Louise placed her hand on Adam's and squeezed it tight.
"Five to six hours?" he asked, continuing their earlier conversation without missing a beat. "So if I come and help we could be out of there in under three?"
Huh.
She nodded and he nodded right back.
"All right," he said. "That still gives us plenty of time to get into a good position for the lights."
"Hey." Louise turned, stepping in to him 'til their chests pressed together. She cupped his face in her hands and his dark stubble scratched her palms. Her husband, her man--no matter the extraordinary circumstances that had brought them together--had to be hurting. The vacant gaze and the tautness of his mouth attested to it. She needed to comfort him, to do what she could. "Talk to me."
No response.
"Adam?"
He looked into her face and grimaced, put his warm hands over hers and moved them down onto his cotton shirt. "I'm fine."
"But..."
"Louise, I haven't talked to my parents since they disowned me when I was seventeen. So yes, I'm fine."
"What happened when you were seventeen?"
His hands tightened over hers and his blue eyes looked as if they carried the pain of the world. He spoke through gritted teeth. "I ran with a rough crowd when I was younger. Too stupid to know better. We got into a bar fight one night and someone died. It was an accident, but... He was about to shoot my friend, so I shot him. He died."
"Oh."
Adam had killed someone. Adam was...Adam was a killer. Her husband. No. It didn't fit. It wasn't right. She'd seen a killer at work and he hadn't cared one iota for the blood spilled or the life lost. The killer had enjoyed putting a bullet into Con's brain, the sick fuck. Her stomach roiled at the memory.
This pained Adam. Two decades later, the weight of it still bowed his shoulders. He looked as if he had aged simply in the telling. His eyes were tired, sad. It didn't make sense. Her hands started shaking, a fine trembling he couldn't help but feel.
"Did you go to jail?" Grimly, she forced herself to maintain eye contact.
"Only the four months awaiting trial. My parents had money, hired the best lawyers. They didn't want the family name stained." His hands slipped away and hers did with them, falling back to her sides. Everything around her felt cold and quiet. Adam didn't look at her. "They cut off all contact with me afterward. I was disavowed. I had nothing. That was when I joined the army. The war was just getting going, so they were desperate for people. And I'd already proven I was willing to pull the trigger, so I went right to the top of the class."
She swallowed hard. "That's everything?"
"Yes. I suppose someone should have warned you."
"Adam, you were just a kid..."
"I was seventeen."
"Which is still a kid."
"It's not something you can excuse, Louise. Someone died." He took a step past her and she stopped him, moving into his path and weaving her arms around his neck. Trying to reach him however she could. He turned his face away and his hands rose to disengage her. "Don't..."
"You don't," she growled, stomping her foot on the hard floor. Juvenile but effective.
Wary eyes met hers. "Louise..."
"I need to hold you and you need me to, so just don't."
He rubbed his hands over her arms, then stopped, his fingers trying halfheartedly to pluck her from him. "Gideon was a good man. You deserve better. Maybe if we talk to the coordinator..."
"Gideon is dead. You are my husband. You," she said, a strange sort of panic rising inside her, mixing with the anger. The thought of losing him unraveled her. Her hands balled into fists, anchored around his neck. "You think I'm some toy to be handed around? Fuck you."
With a startled look, he lifted his chin and gazed down at her. "You're really mad."
"You're talking divorce and you're insulting me. Of course I'm mad."
The skin between his brows ridged and she resisted the temptation to use it as a target, to slap the palm of her hand right there. Knock some sense into him. She wasn't normally a violent person, but he brought out all sorts of complicated in her.
"I'm trying to do the right thing by you," he said.
"What bullshit. I don't get to walk away from you, so what gives you the right?"
"Louise..."
"No. Really."
The man stopped and stared. "I hadn't thought of it that way."
"Yes, well--it's hypocritical."
"Ah." His chest heaved against hers and his hands settled on her back, smoothing down her robe. "All right."
She said nothing. Relief weakened her. If he hadn't been th
ere to prop her up she might have hit the floor.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Okay."
Her husband nodded slowly, eyes fixed on her.
"You were young and stupid--you made a mistake," she said. "But Adam, I don't want anyone else either."
"No?"
"No."
Adam lowered his forehead to hers, eyes sealing shut. He stayed quiet for a long time, standing there, holding her tight. It felt like a safe space in his arms, in their home. "I think I needed to hear you say that."
She sighed and pressed her face to his. "Idiot."
"That, not so much." He smiled.
It was a beautiful thing, Adam Elliot's smile. Louise licked her lips and drew herself up tall. Doing the right thing sucked. "And, if you need to go back to Earth for your father's funeral, I understand."
"I don't."
"Adam, you're only going to get one chance at this. I don't want you to do something you'll regret," she said. "I know family is complicated, but it seems as if your mother is reaching out to you."
He made a noise of disapproval low in his throat. "Do we really have to keep talking about this? I thought we needed to get to work in the garden."
"Fine. I'm only saying--"
"Princess."
She shut her mouth with an audible snap and he pressed a light kiss to it.
"Thank you," he said.
Louise let Adam lead her to the garden with her hand tight in his. It gave her the warm fuzzies, him wanting the connection. Holding hands was such a simple, sweet thing.
He took her a back way, moving at his usual impossible pace. Down a small, silent corridor of rough stone. Down six flights of stairs. On and on they went. Her shirt was clinging to her by the time they reached the bottom, despite the frosty temperature in the passageways.
"Are you trying to avoid someone?" she enquired of her husband's back.
"No."
"Because this feels a little out of the way. Taking the lift wouldn't have been more direct, perhaps?"
"No."
"Sure you're not trying to avoid the chief, maybe?"
"No."
"Just wondering."
Adam's com sounded and he drew it from his back pocket without slowing the pace. "We've got a meeting with the marriage coordinator tomorrow."
"Are you going to show this time?"
He stopped so fast she stumbled straight into him. Strong hands caught her elbows, steadying her. Dark stubble lined his jaw because he hadn't bothered to shave. Her husband did rugged awfully well. Made her want to swoon, just a little. "I'm sorry about that."
"Let me guess--that was before."
"It was." Blue eyes narrowed but he couldn't quite keep the start of a smile off his face. A smile was a victory on what had to be an awful day for him, no matter what he said. "You're a bit of a smartass, princess."
"I'm your worshipful wife," she corrected.
"Ah. That would be it."
"Best five days of your life, since I arrived."
"True."
"So I think you should turn up this time and tell the nice lady as much."
He nodded gravely. "I will. We'll go together." Adam dipped his head and kissed the tip of her nose, the jut of her chin. His eyes radiated warmth, affection. "Best five days of my life."
And her heart kind of tipped and fell for him. Which terrified her, but there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it.
"Adam."
"Mmm?"
She couldn't afford this, the feeling of being opened wide, everything exposed. Falling for this man could definitely expose her and her secrets. It could endanger them both. The district attorney had been insistent. She could tell no one. It would only put them in jeopardy. What happened to Con might have been a mess of his own making, but it wasn't happening to Adam. He wouldn't get dragged into it. She wouldn't allow it. Now more than ever, she had to keep her shit together. There was still a price on her head for testifying at Con's murderer's trial. People still wanted her dead, if they could find her. A guard had been tortured to death not long before she'd shipped out because someone in the DA's office had spoken out of turn. If the guard had known...
Louise stared at him with her mouth gaping but nothing coming out. Her husband.
An abyss yawned wide inside her and she stood on the edge, alone and uncertain. Her head was cluttered with all the things she couldn't tell him. All the truths she couldn't speak because he'd become precious to her. She couldn't tell him the truth. Couldn't risk it.
"You okay?" he asked.
Determinedly, she pushed back all the emotions pounding inside her. It took a long time for them to settle and recede. "Yeah."
Adam stared at her long and hard. "Shall we go to your garden and get this done?"
"Sure. Let's do that."
Adam watched his wife as she watched Esther's version of the Northern Lights do their thing. Dazzling streaks of green and blue and silver played across the sky overhead. Louise's face was upturned, eyes wide with wonder. Adam sat entranced by her. He found her a million times more interesting than the show nature was staging outside. She sat in the passenger seat beside him, the low glow of the transport panel lighting her face.
Glacial winds howled and buffeted the sturdy scout-class transport they'd borrowed, but otherwise the night was fine. Or fine for Esther.
"Tell me about your family," he said.
Her eyes darted to him. "My family?"
"Mmm."
"They died a while back. I was an only child. Not much to tell."
"You really were a princess. I bet they spoilt you rotten."
She gave him a distracted smile.
"Come and sit on my lap," he said, grabbing her hand and tugging her over his way. The perfect place for her to be for a nice heavy petting session.
"There's no room..."
"Sure there is." Another tug on her hand and she rose, giving him a dubious glance. He shuffled back in his seat so she could squeeze between him and the console, sitting sideways on his lap. "See. Now you can put your head on my shoulder and watch the lights. Won't hurt your neck so much."
"My neck was fine," she said, but did indeed nestle into his hold and lay her head on his shoulder. The warmth of her felt wonderful and the scent of her filled him with a sense of rightness. His woman. His wife. No place he would rather be.
"Thank you," he said, his fingers finding and stroking over the curve of her hip under her sturdy work pants.
There hadn't been time to change after completing all the jobs she'd set for them in the garden. She'd restricted his activities to fetching and lifting heavy objects after he had inadvertently crushed the fifth baby-whatever seedling requiring a pot. Everyone down there adored his wife--some of the botanical boffins a bit too much. A menacing look or two had set them straight.
"What work did you do before?" Adam inched a finger beneath his wife's baggy jumper. One of these days he would buy her some clothes that actually fit. His wife had a beautiful body. Hiding it was stupid.
"I worked in a dress shop," she said. "I told you already."
"Ah. That's right."
"What about you? What did you do in the army?"
"Just grunt stuff, then later the piloting. Nothing interesting." Because he'd learned a long time ago not to go into the details of special operations--the less said the better. Some of the things they'd done in the name of intelligence-gathering should stay buried for all eternity. Yes, they'd saved lives, but they'd taken them too. For the greater good or whatever--didn't matter. They had been dark deeds.
"Mmm." Her eyes remained fixed on the heavens. No reaction from her to the finger creeping beneath her clothing. He let the rest of his hand follow, sliding up her rib cage, his touch light.
"Adam." She squirmed suddenly, rubbing her rear against his groin in a pleasant fashion. "Your hand's cold."
"Sorry." And he was. He should have thought to warm it up first. But she hadn't asked him to remove it, so
he didn't. "What kind of dress shop?"
"A women's one." She smiled.
"Cute." Fingertips found the swell of a breast and the soft cotton of her bra. "What did your parents do?"
"Look, the colors are changing again." She pointed to the sky and he took the opportunity to tuck a finger into the top of the cup of her bra and drag it down. His knuckle drifted over the soft peak of her nipple and it immediately tightened. "You're being very distracting, Adam."
"Am I?"
"Yes. Wow, look--now there's some yellow coming into it. It's spectacular. I've never seen anything like it."
"Very nice."
"You're not even looking."
"I've seen it before." Adam plumped her delicate breast in his hand. Just the feel of her made him wild. A ravishing was not out of the question. "You were going to tell me about your parents."
"Sure. Then we should talk about your mother's communique."
He ignored her comment and lightly drew the pad of his thumb back and forth across her nipple, coaxing it to life. It didn't take much. Her breath hitched when he gave it a light pinch and her delightful rear wriggled in his lap again. "What did your parents do, princess?"
"My father was a programmer and my mother stayed home. Are there security cameras in this transport?"
"Yes, they're on all the transports. But we're not being monitored. I mean, most likely we're not."
She grabbed his arm, body stiffening. "Adam."
"Relax--they can't see a thing." He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, slowly increasing the pressure, tugging lightly until she gave a breathy moan. The one noise that ensured there would be no blood left for his brain at all. "I promise you, they have no idea how sensitive your gorgeous tits are. Nor are they aware of how much you like having them played with."
Louise's back arched against his hold, her teeth pinching her lip. "Stop it. What if someone is listening?"
"Well, yes. That could be embarrassing." His cock was a steel pike in his jeans and she kept making those tight little movements, hips jerking. "Better tell me more about your life before I get carried away and start talking about how luscious the cheeks of your--"
"Adam," she panted. "I thought you wanted to see the lights."
"Yeah, they're real nice. Wonder if I could make you come just by playing with your nipples? What do you think, princess?"
His wife gave a sexy growl, making the heat in his balls excruciating. No other woman would do. Only this one drove him nuts each and every time. "What do you want to know?"