by Elsa Jade
The caress of his parted lips over hers wasn’t lustful in the least. Not the cruel mash of a cowboy whose careless hands had left his horse sullen and hard-mouthed, not the tentative peck of an untutored town boy frittering his father’s store money on a quick roll. This kiss glided like a shooting star—hot, fast, utterly out of her reach even as her fingers clenched needfully on the straps of her restraint harness.
Her pulse rushed through her ears like dangerously venting atmosphere as he righted himself and stared down at her. A flush of hectic color darkened his cheeks, and his green eyes glittered brighter than ever.
Why should a kiss mean anything to them? She was a practiced saloon girl, he an imprisoned spy. The kiss was more a tease than a promise, and yet…
If they crashed and burned, the sweet, remembered taste of his lips would be the last thing she knew.
Still staring at her, he touched two fingers to his lips. She swore the tingle went down her own spine.
“Hopefully my nanites won’t have to save my ass again, or yours,” he said, his voice a little husky. Then he plunked back into the pilot’s chair. “Prepare for entry. Hold on.”
She held back a ridiculous, inappropriate giggle. He didn’t mean that kind of entry, of course. But for some reason, when she squeezed her thighs together, she envisioned something equally dangerous but much more pleasurable.
As he’d warned, the descent nearly chattered the teeth out of her skull. He’d opened only one small, lo-res view of their destination, but it reminded her of Montana: wide-open spaces with scrubby flora interspersed with bigger, more established plantings settled in deliberate rows by the terraforming crew. Instead of a small ghost town, there was an automated station that blinked a recorded message at the shuttle as they flashed over it before the station passed out of view.
Nell gritted her teeth, partly to keep them from rattling and partly to hold back a nervous yelp as they battered their way through intermittent cloud cover. The temperature in the cabin climbed well past a high plain’s summer swelter and was moving up toward unsustainable. Droplets of sweat clung to Troy’s brow, although she suspected that wasn’t just the heat. While the ship’s controls didn’t require physical power, his rapid movements weren’t as smooth as she’d come to associate with him. Subtle though it was, he was clearly fighting the ship for his life. For their lives.
True, saving her was just a side effect of saving himself, but it was the nicest thing that’d happened to her since the empress decided not to return her to stasis the last time.
The whoosh of air buffeting the shuttle sounded like unkind laughter.
Troy banked, sending her stomach into a flipflop. “I’ll put us down on the hill at the end of this valley. We’ll have a bit of a view, just in case.”
“Just in case what?”
“Maybe we’ll be marooned here. We’ll live on the hill and be homesteaders like back when we first met.”
She stared at him in horror. “I left farming far, far behind. At least the empress never made me milk a cow.”
He chuckled. “You’re right. I’d be a worse farmer than I was a cowboy.”
For a shroud—programmed to be whatever he needed to be—his modesty was refreshing. “You were a good thief. And kisser.”
After one darting glance at her, he returned his attention to the viewer. “Thank you. Coming from a connoisseur, that’s gratifying.”
Despite their precarious situation, the racing of her heartbeat settled to a portentous throb almost as loud as the engines as Troy eased the shuttle down to the hilltop he’d chosen. But this banter wasn’t right, not when they were captor and prisoner. She popped out of her harness before he finished powering down.
She was no more interested in throbbing than she was in farming. Better to be far away from both.
But the shuttle was small. And so was the moon. When Troy released the hatch, she peered out and the arc of the horizon was so pronounced that for another heartbeat, vertigo made her sway, as if she might tip sideways off the world.
Troy grabbed her elbow. “Careful. The gravity is only a quarter of Earth’s. You don’t want to bounce away.”
“Actually, sometimes I do,” she muttered. As a breath of chilly air snaked into the cabin, she twisted away from him, checking the blaster. When had he sneaked up beside her? If he’d been on her other side, he could’ve slipped the pistol out of her holster before she noticed. She needed to be more watchful of him.
Keeping that careful space between them, she took a heavier cloak from the storage slot beside the bunk portal. From high collar to shin-length hem, the pale blue therma-pile would keep her warm in the thin, mountain-fresh air.
And it would be another layer of distance between her and the Theta.
Because she had to watch him, closely, while he repaired the ship. She couldn’t let herself be distracted by his lithe strength as he launched himself lightly from the hatch and strode around the shuttle. She couldn’t drift on the manly drone of his low voice as he called out obscure repair codes to the AI—codes she knew she’d have to review to make sure he wasn’t sabotaging them.
Ooh, why did she find him so fascinating? It had to be their shared history, how he’d given her his nanites and she’d taken his place when the reclamation team had come to Earth. He’d had his freedom while she’d been trapped in the empress’s clutches, and now they’d switch.
Also, maybe seeing him made her realize how lonely she’d been. In some ways, living as the empress’s childhood toy had been no worse than being a plaything for horny cowboys. But neither exactly encouraged revealing her innermost thoughts and feelings. The kiss she’d shared with a half-metal man had been one of the most honest moments she’d ever had—and he’d been stealing from her boss while she’d been extorting him for drugs and diamonds.
She walked down the gangplank from the shuttle to keep an eye on Troy, vigilant about keeping herself between the hatch and him. No way was she going to let the handsome, charming, lying Theta jump into the pilot’s chair and fly away without her. She could be wistful and wanting and not stupid at the same time.
But when he detached one of the shuttle panels, exposing the complicated mechanics within and revealing the hard clench of muscle across his shoulders, she couldn’t hold back a sigh. They were both wicked beings, so she didn’t blame herself for ogling.
Finally, a little sniggle of embarrassment made her clear her throat. “It’s a bit cold on this moon. Would you like a jacket?” She had abducted him from Earth without a single possession to his name.
He shook his head. “I was just thinking I was getting warm. The thin atmosphere lets the sun shine through.” Still focused on the inner workings of the ship, he stripped out of his shirt, unveiling more of those muscles. Under the brassy alien sun, his smooth skin gleamed almost golden and his hair was like liquid oxidized bronze.
Nell managed not to choke on her lolling tongue. Shrouds were built to meet the parameters of their designation, she scolded herself. Of course a seductive spy like a Theta would be…seductive and whatnot.
He straightened, idly flicking a lock of his long hair over his shoulder. In the fitful breeze and low gravity, the bronze strands flowed as if he were underwater.
Well, parts of her were feeling damp too…
Averting her gaze from Troy, she clamped her knees together under her cloak and split skirt. They were here only long enough to fix the ship, not to revisit the circumstances of their first meeting.
But the memory of those Earthly kisses stayed barely hidden, like seeds left behind in shallow, unfamiliar soil to maybe spring to new life.
Beyond the shuttle’s perch, the low, undulating line of hills flattened out into a wide plain. Nothing moved besides the clouds and the wind through the low scrubby brush tucked into the folds of the hills. Pixberries, of course. The tough plants had been bioengineered to thrive in almost any environment and was usually one of the first additions to terraformed worlds, since most
parts of it were edible.
Casting another quick glance at Troy, Nell took a few steps toward the nearest bush, where a hint of purple peeked out from under the thick leaves. Her mouth puckered at the thought of a few fresh berries. Another quick step took her bounding farther than she intended, but she could also get back to the ship with a few bounces.
She gathered a double handful of the sweet treats and turned back toward the ship.
Troy was standing in the open hatch, looking around with a frown furrowing his brow.
How had she gotten so far in just a few steps? In the same instant that she realized he could fly away, his gaze met hers.
He waved a get-back-here gesture and disappeared inside.
As she hurtled back toward the shuttle, her heart slammed heavier than gravity inside her chest. But the hatch stayed open and the engines didn’t whoosh to life.
When she stumbled to a halt inside the main corridor, Troy was in the pilot’s seat. “I need you to hold down this breaker while I clear the lines. Uh, but maybe wash your hands first? You’re all purple.”
She glanced down at the berries squished in her tight fingers. “I thought you were going to fly off without me.”
When he pushed out of his seat, the low gravity sent him looming over her before she could regret saying the words. The syrupy juice bound her fingers together so she couldn’t even reach for her pistol.
“I was made to be a spy, a saboteur, a killer when necessary.” He put one hand over hers. “And I know I left you behind in the saloon. But even I wouldn’t abandon you here.”
With a gentle tug—so gentle that she practically floated along with him, the gravity unable to hold her down—he urged her toward the galley. He unfolded her fingers to let the berries drift to the counter. A few were hopelessly squashed, releasing the sweet-tart fragrance of the fruit.
He held her hands under the cleansing unit. “Who left you before?”
Though the sprayed cleanser was blood temperature, she couldn’t seem to unclench her frozen fingers. “What?”
Patiently, he smoothed her hands. “Why are you so terrified to be left?”
She wanted to protest. Terrified? After all she’d been through, she doubted anything could jolt her out of her numb resignation, as if all the years of laudanum had left her permanently anesthetized.
Only his infusion of nanites had cleared that fog—just long enough for the aliens to track her down and abduct her.
After a brief sputter, she pointed out, “Being ditched on an uninhabited moon would make anyone afraid. Also, since technically I kidnapped you, no one would blame you for leaving me.”
He rubbed the last of the cleanser into her knuckles, the chemical evaporating away to moisturize her skin. “Ah, the one time a Theta would have the moral high ground. I should definitely take advantage. But if I took advantage, then by definition, I wouldn’t be the good guy anymore.”
She peered up through her lashes at him. The empress’s healers hadn’t fixed the scars on her skin, but they had repaired the smallpox scarring of her eyes, replacing the damaged cornea with a lens that processed some infrared and ultraviolet as well as visible light. Though her unenhanced Earther brain didn’t have the means to handle all the extra information, if she concentrated, a faint silver aura danced around him.
Maybe it was his nanites regenerating because her hands tingled in his. “You want to be a good guy?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve been worse things.”
A laugh bubbled up in her like pixberries floating. “Neither of us has ever been good.”
Though the moisturizing cleanser was long gone, he kept rubbing her hands and his murmur was even softer. “Is that why I feel compelled to touch you?”
At the musing words, her breath caught in her throat. “You’re a cyborg. You don’t have feelings.”
“I’m designed to be a thief and assassin, so I have extra nerve endings to make me more sensitive and dexterous.”
She blinked. “That’s not the kind of feelings I…” She trailed off as his fingertips trailed up her arm.
The layers of therma-pile weren’t thick enough to stop the shiver that followed his idle caress. Probably even the plasteel panel he’d removed from the side of the ship wouldn’t be enough to block the sensation.
She really wished she hadn’t thought about him removing layers.
But really, the kind of feelings he meant had been missing from her life for so long. The empress didn’t approve of her childhood dolls having that kind of relationship even when they weren’t actively attending her.
As for the other kind of feelings… All the heated, compressed, glittering chunks of carbon in the universe weren’t worth having feeeeeelings again.
She caught his hand before it reached her face. The edge of the stasis cuff pressed against her wrist bone, as if they were both locked down. “I know you can’t help yourself, Theta—”
“I can’t,” he murmured. “Why can’t I? There’s something about you.”
“It’s not me,” she said. “It’s you. This is what you’re programmed to do: tease and manipulate. Even when you don’t want it and there’s nothing here for you.”
He didn’t want her. Not really. Why should that truth sting? She knew how lust and loneliness worked, and she’d survived because she’d learned how to tease and manipulate too. She didn’t blame him for plying his trade to get what he wanted since she’d have done the same. At least he had the excuse of being built the way he was.
The hard bite of his cuff against her skin reminded her she was worse.
Stepping back, she released him. Her fingers tingled where she’d touched him, but that had to be just the effects of the stasis cuff. “Fix the ship. Then we’re both going back where we belong.”
Chapter 6
Troy averted his gaze for a moment, letting the wild torrent of his pulse slow. If he’d been a shuttle, there’d be a warning light across his dash: Temperatures rising. Structural integrity compromised. Continued contact with Nell Dearly inadvisable at this time.
Touching her made him…reckless. And Thetas weren’t ever rash—their programming didn’t allow for it. Even with his nanites repressed, his baseline code still commanded his behavior.
Except with her.
A thrill shivered down his spine. Was he imprinting already, his code subtly altering around her? He’d been following the steps of courting: making her a gift of food with the apple pie, removing his clothing to display his virility, kissing her.
Technically, he’d kissed her too early. He should’ve waited until she was yearning for him. But they’d been in the midst of crashing a spaceship, so it had seemed like a good time. Also, they’d kissed more than a century ago so it was fair to skip ahead.
Also also, he hadn’t been able to stop himself, as he’d inadvertently blurted out to her.
This definitely seemed like imprinting, just as he’d devised. Although he’d meant for her to fall in love first.
Frowning, he sidelonged a glance at her. Why couldn’t she be a simple keyholder? Someone malleable and compliant. Instead, she was prickly and skittish, like the coyotes that haunted Diamond Valley where his matrix-brothers had established their stronghold. She’d be hard to catch and harder to hold. And if his imprinting on her locked in before he had her under his control, he wouldn’t even mind that she’d become his owner.
Deliberately, he focused on the berries she’d brought back. Surprising that she’d been distracted even for a moment from aiming the blaster pistol at him. Maybe she was coming to trust him, on some level, instinctively echoing the resource-sharing impulse that was part of courting.
Damn the keyholder coding that left him so vulnerable.
After he got his oscillating emotions tamped down—and rinsed the berries before slotting them away in an extra galley storage bin—he turned back to Nell. “As I was saying before, we need to clear the lines before I can continue repairs, so I need your help on
the bridge.”
She followed along behind him as he strode up the central corridor, and he felt the intensity of her stare like the open bore of the blaster between his shoulder blades. Good thing shrouds lived for danger or this tension between them could get awkward.
He slid into the copilot seat, granting her authority over the main controls. Maybe that would help ease her wariness.
“The shuttle will automatically try to reinitiate when I disconnect, but I need to clear the lines before I can do the work. You’ll have to manually override here”—he indicated the toggle in question—“while I cut the power. Then I can reroute as needed and we’ll be on our way.”
She held the switch he’d indicated. “But if you cut power here, won’t that—”
He initiated the sequence, and every light in the ship went out.
“—kill everything,” she finished wryly.
“Just until I reroute and restart,” he assured her. The daylight through the open hatch provided enough illumination for them to move around the small shuttle. But on the small, swiftly rotating moon, night would come soon.
And then his charm attack could continue in earnest.
“If you pull out the emergency pack, you’ll find extra lights and supplies for while we’re powered down.”
Grumbling, she boosted herself out of the pilot’s chair. “Well, I guess you can’t fly away without me now.”
How would he win her when she doubted his every move—not wrongly? She needed to believe that she had him where she wanted him, so he needed to give her full power over him, even though his Theta programming resisted giving up any advantage.
“I’m going to make sure the outside lines are clearing,” he called to her as he stepped out.
After a cursory inspection of the shuttle—everything was going as he’d planned, of course—he reconsidered his subtle seduction of Nell. He had to earn her focus and her empathy before he could win her love.