Prime Obsession

This book could never have been written without the help of my critique buddy Sherry Crane and early critical advice from Bonnie Dee and Jayelle Drury. I would also like to thank my two beta-readers for their comments and encouragement: Laura Adlam and Holly Shelley. And, as always, thanks to my editor Terri Schaefer, who manages to find all my mistakes. Special thanks to Geoffrey Kidd, proofer extraordinaire, and his spot-on suggestions.

Finally, I dedicate this book to my friend and fellow author, Linnea Sinclair, who writes the best damn science fiction romance in the universe.

A resort on Tooh 2, Mu Arae Solar System

“Captain! Captain! Mel! Dammit, wake up!”

Galactic Alliance Captain Melina Grace Dmitros roused from her light nap in the sun. The tenseness in her second-in-command’s voice was vastly different than the relaxed, jovial mood from their earlier lunch with fellow officers. If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve thought they were back on the command deck of their battle cruiser
Leonidas
and not lying by a pool in a seaside resort on the garden planet of Tooh 2.

Turning her head slightly to the right, she growled, “What is it, Nowicki?”

“We’ve got a problem!”

Commander Royce Nowicki angled his head toward the poolside café where only ninety minutes earlier they’d officially kicked off Gold Squadron’s three-day leave. Prior to this well-deserved vacation, they, and Captain Garth Warten’s Blue Squadron, had spent three standard months chasing pirates all over the Mu Arae Solar System.

Mel did not want to hear about a problem. Not one. But Nowicki’s body language told her she needed to deal with whatever was bothering him. He did not raise false alarms.

Following Nowicki’s gaze, she not only saw, but heard the problem.

Ensign Steve Parker of Blue Squadron was in the process of taunting and threatening three large men. From the look of their clothing, they were part of some diplomatic team.

Great, just what she needed, a political powder keg.

Removing her dark sunshades, she squinted more closely at the objects of Parker’s drunken rage. Depending on the race, the problem could be more or less serious.

It was more.

“Well, hell. Count on Parker to pick on the new Cejuru Prime ambassador to the Alliance. Is he suicidal or what?” She turned her head and glared at Nowicki. “And, dammit, how in the blazes did Parker get off Tooh 10? I thought he’d been confined to quarters for that last bout of insubordination.”

“Insubordination?” sputtered Nowicki, his eyes fiery with remembered rage. “The cretin almost got you killed!”

Mel rubbed her side where the healing wound was now merely a faint scar. The regen bed had done wonders for the superficial healing, but the underlying muscles and nerves were still knitting back together. Nature could only be helped along so much.

“Warten convinced me that he’d handle the matter. I gave him the benefit of the doubt. But, at the very least, Parker was to be confined to quarters while the Admiral and Warten decided what to do with him.”

She scanned the pool area for Parker’s commanding officer as she reached for her cover-up. Settling potential galactic incidents in a bikini was not protocol.

“Warten’s not here,” Nowicki stated what she had already determined for herself.

“He left the café after lunch, said something about a date with a pillow.”

“Sure. Fine,” she muttered as she struggled into the sheer silken chemise that had looked just right for a day by the pool, but now seemed all wrong for the coming confrontation. And that there would be a confrontation she had no doubt. Parker was a hothead; he wouldn’t back down.
Dammit
. “Garth is off tangling in the sheets with some tanned, voluptuous Tooh 2 cutie, and
I
get to clean up his mess.” Spying two other of her senior officers, she turned to Nowicki. “Get J’ar and A’tem.

Call for military security. Then clear the area around Parker. I don’t want any innocents hurt if the Prime decide to teach Parker a well-deserved lesson.”

“Captain, what are
you
gonna do? Maybe we should just let the Prime pound him.” Nowicki’s pale blue eyes glinted at the possibility.

“You didn’t wake me up so foreign dignitaries could beat up one of ours. You and I both know the Alliance does not need a galactic cluster fuck,” she stated. “The Prime are joining us after centuries of isolationism. We
need
their knowledge and skills in fighting the Antarean raiders. I’m still not sure what
they
need from
us
, but I do know the Galactic Alliance Counsel is thrilled that they’ve chosen to fight alongside us. But it isn’t a done deal.”

“Great,” snarled Nowicki. “So, you need to place yourself between Parker and danger—again—for the frigging peace of the galaxy. I should have just let you sleep and beat on the scum-sucking bastard myself.”

“You did the right thing. Parker would never have listened to you. Then you would’ve been thrown in the brig for fighting or, worse, injured, and I really would’ve been annoyed.” Raising one brow, she smiled. “Me? I outrank him. He hates my guts.

And has always underestimated me. Plus, I owe him,” she touched the healing scar again,

“and am hoping to have to use
un
reasonable force. So, your job is to keep everyone out of harm’s way. Understand?”

“Yeah, just be careful. He cheats.”

“I know. Now go!”

Striding toward the café, she opened up all six of her senses and observed the three Prime males, testing their emotional response to Parker’s insanity. The oldest one, the Ambassador—his name escaped her for the moment—spoke to Parker in what she could tell were low, calming tones. The Ambassador’s emotional aura read as cool and calm, a true diplomat. Not so for his two much younger associates; they were all red-hot anger barely controlled.

Knowing Parker, the diplomatic route would just set him off even more.

Mel approached the four men. Cautiously. Quietly. Her heightened senses became even more so as adrenaline poured into her system. Her heart pounded. She licked suddenly dry lips and took a deep, cleansing breath. Her muscles twitched, readying themselves for whatever might come.

As she’d expected, anger roiled off Parker in waves, probably exacerbated by alcohol consumption. She could smell him; it was as if he’d bathed in potent Tooh 2

whiskey. Alcohol notwithstanding, Parker always ran hot; his temper could boil over in a flash. Definitely not officer material. Coolness in the heat of battle was always best. He’d only made it to the rank of Ensign because of political connections. If he survived this incident, she’d have to insist he be sent away from the Mu Arae system. There was too much tension in this sector of the Milky Way as it was without adding loose cannons.

“Ensign Parker!” She stopped about three feet from his right side, in his peripheral line of sight. He’d have to turn his head to see her.
“Stand down.”

“Go away, you fucking bitch!” he spat out. She could always count on Parker to be disrespectful, mentally adding insubordination to the list of charges against him. “This is a private conversation.”

“That’s
Captain
Fucking Bitch, to you, soldier.” All three Prime turned their attention away from Parker. They eyed her bikini-suited body inadequately covered by the thin shift. Their pale amber gazes turned molten hot, darkening to the color of aged single malt scotch. She could smell, almost taste, the adrenaline levels shoot up in all three men. Their gazes projected a complex mix of emotions—concern for her, anger at Parker, and lust for her body.

Great. This could get ugly fast. A damn disaster in the making.

Historically, male Prime were described as overprotective of females and needed few reasons to fight. Right now, they had the perfect trifecta of excuses to hand Parker his head on an ancient Prime battle lance. Documented as the oldest humanoid race in the galaxy, the Prime hadn’t survived this long without learning how to fight to win. They sure as heck didn’t need her, a mere Terran female, to fight their battles. Yet, Parker would be dead meat if she left them to it. And a horrible diplomatic mess would then ensue, that most likely was the only thing holding the Prime back—for now.

If she handled the situation, Parker would be bruised, battered, and, hopefully, unconscious, and the new bond between the Prime and the Alliance could go forward. An additional plus, the new allies would see that Alliance female officers didn’t need alpha male warriors to fight their battles.

Taking a deep breath, she said, “Ensign Parker, you are under arrest. I am not even sure what you’re doing on Tooh 2. The last I heard Captain Warten had confined you to quarters.”

Parker turned his attention from the Prime toward her. Exactly what she’d wanted.

Her gaze fixed on Parker as she watched for his move.

In a calm, authoritative tone, her eyes never moving from her opponent, she said,

“Ambassador. Gentleman. Please leave. I apologize on behalf of the Alliance if this man has insulted you or caused you any embarrassment. This is a military problem and I
will
handle it.”

Around her, she heard—and felt—her men clearing the café. She let the noise and emotions of the curious crowd pass over her. Her focus was divided between Parker and the Prime. All angry alpha males. The situation was fluid, highly charged. Anything could change at any time.

The Prime didn’t move away, but they didn’t attack either. Maybe that was the best she could hope for, that the three warriors would stand and observe—at least until they thought she needed assistance.

Mel wouldn’t let it come to that. Despite her smaller size as compared to the large Prime males, she was of above-average height for a Terran woman and extremely well-trained. She was also well aware of Parker’s weaknesses. Her strengths in battle were stamina, quickness, the ability to read her opponent, and, most often, her opponent’s overconfidence.

She stood quietly, balancing her weight on the balls of her feet, ready to move.

Increasing anger and hatred flowed from Parker in invisible waves so hot they swept across her skin like a volcanic windstorm.

Nothing and no one moved. It was if the area surrounding the café was encased in a bubble, isolating it from the rest of the resort.

Then Parker’s left eye twitched. His tell.

Her lips thinned into a grim smile. The three Prime males tensed as if to move.

She moved first, yelling at the Prime. “Stay out of it.” Mel dodged Parker’s lurching move to grab her. Her fist drove into his stomach like a cannonball. Roaring in rage, he grabbed the strap of her cover up and ripped the garment away as she twisted and spun out of his reach. The silken fabric slid down her body to tangle at her feet. Leaping out of the puddle of silk, she sent a hard front kick to his gut, knocking him away from her. The percussion from the solid hit traveled up her leg into the healing laser wound across her obliques.

She grunted at the sharp, stabbing pain. Sublimating the ache, she turned it into responsive anger, anger that this shithead had ruined her first leave in half a standard year.

Like the bullheaded son of a bitch he was, Parker charged her. Anticipating his move, she stepped to the side, throwing a side kick to his groin. He turned just enough that she merely caught the edge of his hip.

“How’s the side, bitch?” Parker taunted in a raspy voice as he circled her. He threw a booted kick at her healing wound as she spun away. His foot glanced off it.

Mel hissed, swearing under her breath. Moving fluidly, she delivered a reverse head kick. With the full power of her pelvic girdle, she caught him on the jaw. Hard. Really hard.

Holding his jaw, shock in his eyes, Parker staggered back. He bled from where he’d bitten his lip. He rubbed his jaw, shifting it from side-to-side.

Damn.
Too bad, she hadn’t broken it.

Spitting out blood and a tooth, he snarled as he circled, looking for an opportunity to hurt her. “They threw me out of the military because of you, bitch. You deserve whatever I dish out.”

She stared at him, not answering. Why waste her breath? She needed it for the fight.

Parker had always been an impatient fighter, always wasting energy. He’d be flagging, while she still had energy in reserve.

She’d have reserves, that is, if the pain from her reinjured side did not weaken her first. Pushing the throbbing agony to a place deep within her brain, she breathed slowly, deeply. Waiting.

“Captain?” Nowicki sounded scared. He knew her fighting ability, knew she could beat Parker. So, why all the concern?

Hell, she must look worse than she felt.

She sensed the three Prime moving closer, as if to render assistance. After all the trouble and pain she’d gone through to get Parker’s attention away from the diplomatic team, she wasn’t going to allow them to intervene, no matter how bad she looked.

“Stay out of this, Nowicki!” she snarled. “That’s an order. Just keep everyone out of the way.”

Parker was distracted by the exchange between her and Nowicki. His feral gaze looked beyond her to where Nowicki stood.

Using his momentary mental lapse, she went on the attack. Sweeping low with her dominant leg, she kicked Parker’s legs out from under him. He recovered just enough to go only to his knees. As he struggled to get up, she kicked his jaw, the loud
whack
from her sandals echoing off the walls of the café patio.

This time the jaw broke. Her mouth twisted into a satisfied smile as she pictured him in prison, eating all his meals through a straw.

Continuing to use his off-balanced position to her advantage, she kicked him in the ribs and got off a shot at his nose before he managed to scramble backwards like a crab and use a low wall to struggle to his feet.