Prime Target

by Monette Michaels

  Chapter 12

  Later that evening, Captain’s Table

  Susa sipped her wine and smiled encouragingly at the man across from her at the Captain’s Table as he related an anecdote about the previous Myriad cruise he’d taken. Unfortunately, the man was the Tau Cetan from the suite across from theirs.

  The Tau Cetan, who’d introduced himself as Jahdi, had avoided Damon’s eyes through five courses. Susa couldn’t blame him. Damon had a very effective glare.

  Jahdi’s companion was a singer in one of the lounges on the ship and had been invited by Mori to be Jahdi’s plus-one. The poor girl looked very uncomfortable with the undercurrents flowing across the table. Smart girl.

  The last twosome at the table was an older couple from Earth. They were very gregarious and had volunteered they were a long-term Dom/sub couple and had saved for this cruise for years. Happily, the couple ignored the various emotions at play; they were too busy enjoying the food and drink.

  “Stop smiling at Frog Face,” Damon muttered.

  “His name is Jahdi, and I’m being sociable,” Susa whispered. “You’re making his dinner companion uncomfortable.”

  “Fuck.” His muttered curse word did, however, sound ashamed.

  Damon pasted a smile on his face and saluted Jahdi and the singer with his glass of whiskey.

  Jahdi blinked in surprise and the singer looked less stressed.

  Damon took a deep drink. “Better?” he muttered out of the side of his mouth.

  “Yes. Thank you.” Susa shook her head and her mouth twisted into a grin. They’d only been on the ship for four standard hours. During that time, her all-too-attractive companion and overprotective guardian for this kink-cruise-fest had managed to glower or snarl at almost every male they’d come across and that included a gay male who’d complimented her on her dress.

  Because Damon was in his thirties, he wasn’t going to change who he was at this stage of his life. Since they shared the anteroom outside their suites, Damon needed to at least tolerate Jahdi. Being overprotective and territorial didn’t preclude good manners.

  Heavy breathing from her left had Susa gritting her teeth to keep from cursing Mori and his ancestors. She took a deep breath and pasted the social smile she’d learned to use with the nastier Caradoc men. Then she took a sip of the very excellent wine Mori had requested for their table. The captain might have excellent taste in wine, but if the lecher invaded her personal space and stared at her breasts—even as covered as they were—one more time, she’d dump her wine over his head.

  Mori, like many males, had the misconception that he was the One’s gift to all womankind. She had news for him, he wasn’t.

  On her other side, Damon muttered under his breath. His fisted hand lay on the table, his knuckles white against his darker skin tone. When Mori turned to leer at his dinner companion’s generous breasts overflowing a tightly laced corset top, Damon leaned forward and fixed, what Susa had come to call, his death stare at the captain’s back.

  “Guess he’s a breast man, huh?” she murmured into Damon’s conveniently close ear. “Thanks for vetoing the other outfit. Mori would’ve have been drooling down my exposed décolletage.”

  Damon’s eyes slitted, and he emitted a rumbling growl. Simultaneously, the phrase fucking-ass bastard floated through Susa’s mind.

  The thought wasn’t hers—so it had to be Damon’s, since Geep was back in their suite gorging himself on the room service she’d ordered for him. Plus, Geep didn’t quite swear in Standard yet, though he was showing signs of learning the language.

  Since meeting Damon, her ability to gauge his moods had grown rapidly. Now, she seemed to be getting telepathic impressions from him just as she did with Geep. She and Damon were connecting on a psi level she’d never had—even with other Prime.

  Maybe Damon’s family had extra-strong psi abilities. She’d ask Bria when she next spoke to her friend.

  Another explanation struck her with the force of a solar wind. No, she wasn’t going there.

  Burying the shocking concept in a dark corner of her mind, she covered Damon’s fisted hand. “Damon, Mori is harmless. He flirts with all the women,” she whispered. “It’s his nature.”

  “I’m sure it is.” Damon’s husky baritone was much easier on Susa’s ears than Mori’s slightly nasal tones which had given her a headache. “But if he moves beyond the leering and innuendos and becomes a fucking-ass bastard…”

  There was the proof her mind had received Damon’s active thoughts. No, she would not go there. It couldn’t be that.

  “…let me know. I’ll take him aside and have a word with him.” He relaxed his fist under her touch, then turned his hand to give hers a gentle squeeze.

  “And what would that word be?” She raised her wine glass to her lips and admired the picture Damon made in his tuxedo with his shaggy, multi-hued blond hair curling over the pristine white collar of his shirt.

  Bria’s adoptive big brother was a good-looking man. But Damon wasn’t the settling-down-and-having-a-family type of man Susa needed in her life. Bria had told her Damon had always been wild and wanted adventure. As soon as he was old enough, he’d left his family and the idyllic pastoral life they lived behind. That and the facts he was probably still not over losing Bria and lived on a rough-and-tumble jump station in the back of the beyond ruled out any long-term relationship developing with Damon.

  But Susa was attracted enough she wouldn’t be opposed to a short-term relationship with Damon. He could be the first sexual fling of her choice.

  “Fuck off.”

  Susa jerked at the words and the angry tone, then realized Damon was answering her earlier question about Mori—not responding to her thoughts. Thank the One, he wasn’t able to read her thoughts. Yet.

  No, it wasn’t possible. Was it?

  Damon tossed back the rest of his whiskey and signaled the waiter for another.

  “That’s two words,” she pointed out.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. Mori needs to know you’re off limits. So, he gets more than one word.”

  Damon sounded, acted, and even read as, jealous.

  Could he be as attracted to her as she was to him? And why did that thought make her heart sing?

  So far, she’d only caught his superficial moods and emotions—and that one clear telepathic thought. Anything deeper was protected by a mental wall as if Damon had locked away some of his emotions.

  Susa could relate. She’d built a similar fortress around her most private feelings, because the majority of the Prime people had some sort of empathic ability. The theory was the Prime psi ability was related to their species’ neuro-chemical process in finding the perfect mate. Since her previous lovers hadn’t been her choice but her duty, she’d constructed strong mental shields to guard her emotional reactions.

  Damon’s possessiveness warmed her from the inside out. She liked him—a lot—and felt quite a bit possessive of him in return. The realization was a singular moment filled with wonder and a rightness she’d never experienced before.

  Then all the practical reasons she couldn’t pursue a long-term relationship with Damon came flooding back and shredded the burgeoning feelings into pieces and tossed them about. Reality sucked.

  Damon viciously stabbed at his steak. “Men like fucking Mori go through women like fucking disposable goods. He probably thought he’d landed in fucking pussy heaven when he nabbed this fucking job.”

  All the f-words and the heat behind them reinforced there was more going on than Damon’s need to act as her bodyguard. His emotional outburst was too strong for merely protecting a relative of his business partner.

  But every time she was on the verge of zeroing in on exactly what drove Damon’s strong feelings, the emotions or motivations behind them slipped away and hid behind that damnable wall.

  Susa laid a hand on Damon’s tensed arm. As it had earlier in the dressing room, a sensation almost electric in nature flowed from him into her, cau
sing her to tremble with … wanting. “If it makes you feel better to have a word or two with him,” she whispered, “do it. I don’t want him breathing down my cleavage any more than you do, but please try to be more diplomatic than fuck off.”

  Damon’s lips twitched into a half-smile. “Thanks for your permission, but I was going to do it anyway. Borac would kick my ass if you were hurt or harmed in any way on this trip.”

  That was the truth, but there was more there, lingering just under Damon’s consciousness. Something more personal.

  Damon added, “He really wanted to meet you on Tooh 2 and escort you himself, but—”

  “Cissy needed him.” Susa patted Damon’s arm one more time. She liked touching him. Her body greedily soaked in the energy flowing from him; it warmed her from the inside out. “I understand that. I’d hope my mate”—Now why had she said that?—“would choose to stay with me immediately after I presented him with another child.”

  Damon’s body visibly stiffened. His gaze grew warmer and even more focused on her.

  Flustered, Susa tacked on, “Um, anyway, I’m looking forward to helping Cissy with the children.”

  “You like children?” Damon took a sip of his second whiskey.

  She wanted children with an ache that never went away.

  “Yes. I loved helping with the few children living in my neighborhood. I’d babysit so the mothers could go shopping or have a day out. Prime males, while they like having progeny, aren’t much for childcare.”

  Damon frowned. “What about Iolyn and the other Caradoc males? Will they help out when their children are born? I heard from Bria that she, Nadia, and Mel are all pregnant.”

  Susa deduced he’d added the other Caradocs in for cover. Damon was mostly concerned about Bria. He still had deep feelings for his adoptive sister, and those feelings were complicated and conflicted.

  One thing his feelings for Bria weren’t—they weren’t buried behind the wall in his mind, unlike his feelings for her.

  “Iolyn and the others will help with the children. They’re very excited about impending fatherhood. Cejuru Prime is having a baby boom thanks to your sister”—Damon flinched at her mention of Bria. That time, pain and grief colored his emotional aura.—“and the Caradocs routing the Pure Blood fanatics.” Susa leaned toward Damon after the waiter removed her empty plate. “Wulf, Huw, and Iolyn will be great fathers. They had a good example in their father who worships the ground his gemate walks upon, and Ilar truly enjoyed being with his sons as they grew up. Their family unit is one many other Prime envy and wish to emulate. Tenar was a jealous fool and damaged many lives in his attempt to obtain revenge for Ilar mating Lorinda.”

  “Yes, he did. The bastard hurt you.” Damon snarled.

  Susa winced and leaned away from the anger on her behalf. “Let’s not talk about that now.” Or ever.

  “Sorry,” Damon whispered, then stared at the dessert course placed in front of him. His nose wrinkled with distaste. “What in the seven hells of Jupiter is this? It looks like a bird’s nest.” He flicked at the wiry woven basket with his finger and then used his fork to poke at the rest of the dessert. “Are those eggs? For dessert?”

  Susa laughed at the look of disgust on Damon’s face.

  Damon stared at her mouth as she continued to chuckle. His eyes darkened, but not with anger this time. His nostrils flared as he inhaled. The intensity of his concentration stilled her laughter. A fracture in his mental wall gave her a glimpse of the heat and fire aimed her way before he sealed the crack.

  This man wanted her with a passion Susa had never encountered before. She was torn between excitement and disappointment. Excitement because he desired her. Disappointment, because all those valid reasons not to get deeply involved were still present.

  Right now, her gut urged her to toss all logic aside and break down Damon’s walls and take on everything that was him.

  “Susa,” he murmured huskily, “what is this muck?”

  “Um, it’s a Prime dessert,” she explained. “The nest is candied spun gold. The mousse is vanilla and flower-flavored. The little blue eggs are actually eggs from a small bird similar to a Terran quail. The eggs are cooked and then candied.”

  Susa had to grin at the look on Damon’s face, and the faces of the others at the table—well, all but for Mori who wore a smug expression. “You don’t have to eat it, you know.” She spoke loudly enough to include the others at the table. “It’s considered a special delicacy on my planet, but my tastes are far simpler.”

  She shoved the exotic dessert away.

  Damon signaled the waiter who looked crestfallen at the repudiation of the special treat. “My companion and I really don’t need a dessert, but thank you.” He handed his plate to the waiter, then turned to Susa. “Would you like an after-dinner liquor, instead?”

  “Yes, please.” The smile on Damon’s face was worth turning away the decadent dessert. “And maybe a cheese-and-fruit plate?”

  Damon nodded and gave the waiter their order.

  As the others at the table also requested after-dinner drinks and lighter desserts, Mori’s smug look disappeared, and he looked deflated. He’d obviously wanted to impress her. It would take a lot more than an overly exotic dessert and insincere words of praise for her beauty to win her over.

  Anything that came too easily wasn’t worth keeping—that was true both for life and love.

  Susa looked at Damon. He’d never be easy, but she had a feeling he’d be worth the effort to win him. Her heart beat faster at the thought, and her breath hitched. Flushed with sexual heat, Susa squeezed her thighs together to assuage the throbbing.

  Alert to her every move and sound, Damon turned to her instantly and touched her arm and set her nerves tingling. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just a tickle in my throat.” She patted his hand and even more electricity swept over her skin and arrowed to a particular spot on her lower abdomen, over her right ovary.

  Ansu bhau. It wasn’t nothing, and the feeling wasn’t a tickle in her throat or otherwise. Instead, the sensations overpowering her body and mind with sexual need were ones she’d only read and heard about from other Prime women. And the feelings when put together with the growing psi connection with Damon—She couldn’t be mating … could she?

  A talk with Bria was more important than ever.

  Chapter 13

  Later That Night, Dreamcaster Casino

  “I’ll meld.” Susa’s lips twisted into a pleased smile, and she looked across the green felt table top at Damon.

  After three hours of playing Martian Doubles, they were the night’s big winners so far, and she didn’t expect that streak to end with this hand. Even though Damon’s face was a complete blank, his emotional aura indicated his satisfaction with his hand. He was also happy with her move, even though she was bluffing—this time. And somehow, he knew it.

  With four decks in use, she could recall every card played, discarded, and drawn. Between her excellent memory and empathic ability, she had a fairly accurate idea of what every person at the table had. If someone called her on the meld, she and Damon would lose.

  But she also knew no one would challenge them. The first two times a player had, it had gone badly for that person.

  “I’m out.” Mori threw in his hand with disgust. “The lady hasn’t melded false the whole evening. And I’m damned sure her partner can support her hand.”

  In turn, with a lot of grumbling, the other players tossed their cards onto the table.

  “Good play, partner.” Damon winked at her and mixed his cards in with the rest.

  Mori’s partner, Jahdi, reached in front of the person sitting next to Susa and placed his hand over hers as she was about to throw in her cards. He’d been a complete gentleman the whole evening, mostly, she suspected, because Damon was present.

  Damon stiffened and growled, “Move the hand, or lose it.”

  Jahdi inhaled sharply and pulled his hand back. “I merel
y wished to see her cards. I have that right.”

  “Yes, you do,” Damon acknowledged, “and you may call for it. But you don’t ever touch my woman again. I don’t like it.”

  “And neither do I,” Susa murmured as she turned over her cards.

  “She bluffed us!” Mori looked astonished which was amusing since the man was a horrible card player and a small child could’ve bluffed him.

  The other players grumbled and groaned. Martian Doubles was all about strategy, and Susa had always been good at playing the long hand as she assimilated cards, skills, and tells of her opposing players.

  “Nice play, partner.” Damon raised his glass of Valerian whiskey. “A toast to the best damn Martian Doubles player I’ve ever partnered, and the most beautiful woman on this cruise.”

  Good sportsmanship prevailed, and the others raised their glasses. Susa raised hers and smiled. “Thank you, my very talented partner. Thank you all.”

  The floor manager in their area of the casino approached. “Do Ms. Anghard and Mr. Martin wish to bank their winnings or collect?”

  Susa looked at Damon. “Shall we bank? I’d like to play cards and try my hand at some of the other casino games throughout the cruise.”

  “My lady wishes to bank, so we shall.” Damon reviewed the running totals presented to him and compared them to the tally he kept for the partnership, then signed the card presented to him.

  “You may also use your winnings at the shops, if you wish,” Mori added.

  The cruise was advertised as all-inclusive, but shopping was on the passenger’s own credit. Since Damon had vetoed most of her clothes as too revealing for “the randy assholes on this ship,” she would have to go shopping. Though, she’d be very surprised to find any clothing in the cruise ship boutiques less revealing than the ones she—and Damon—had already picked out.

  “Damon did tell me I needed to buy more outfits for the cruise.”

  “Susa,” Damon’s voice was teasing, “you know how much I enjoy picking out your clothes.”

  “I know.” She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes. “You like to cover up every inch of my skin.”