Rayven's Keep (15 page)

To let her walk away had cost him. The heavy thud of his heartbeat pulsed in his temple and restless energy held muscles rigid. He called himself ten kinds of a fool, even though he knew he did the right thing. He ran a hand across the back of his neck before he went in search of a canister of ale he knew was onboard. He didn’t drink often, but tonight promised to be long and lonely.

After he snagged the chilled canister, he returned to the bridge. Slouching in his chair, he nursed the drink and stared moodily into space.

* * * *

Tru was freezing and woke from sleep curled in a tight ball. The temperature of the ship had dropped when life support functions were lowered. Shivering, she debated leaving the dubious warmth of her bed and searching for another covering but it would take too much effort. Instead she tightened her grip on the blankets, bringing them closer to her cold nose. Her teeth chattered as her discomfort increased.

“Scoot over,” Nick urged, his tone brusque, as he nudged her hip with a knee planted on the side of the bed. “It’s too damn cold to sleep alone.”

Shocked out of her drowsy misery, she reared up enough to look over her shoulder at the solid presence looming over her. “I have no intention of sharing this bed with you.”

“You might enjoy keeping me awake with your chattering teeth, but I don’t intend to suffer through a cold night when we can share our warmth. Now, move over.”

His tone brooked no argument, and Tru moved before she thought. He lifted her blankets and slid in beside her. With a flick of his wrists, he spread his blankets over hers and then tried to settle himself without touching her. His broad shoulders took up most of the available space, making her hunch to keep an appropriate distance between them. She was uncomfortable, and the strangeness of having him so close rattled her. She’d never shared her bed with anyone. He muttered things she tried not to hear as he shifted, his elbow jabbing her in the back.

“Screw it,” he said. Turning on his side he faced her back and hauled her against his chest, a heavy arm wrapped around her middle.

She let out a squeak of surprise, but the heat radiating from him felt delicious. Helpless to stop herself, she wiggled closer to settle into the curve of his body, desperate for the warmth. Ignoring the nagging little voice warning her she was asking for trouble, she relaxed, grateful for the heat he generated.

He hissed when her cold feet tangled with his legs. Surrounded by his clean male scent, she swallowed and tried to force her mind off the fact she was cradled in his arms.

The novelty of being this close to him, of feeling him pressed against her was an unexpected pleasure. She didn’t let herself dwell on the fact he could easily have covered her with another blanket and remained in his bunk. She didn’t want to speculate on his reasoning, just wanted to enjoy the moment of intimacy. Too tired to fight it any more or to think too deeply about his motivation, she slowly allowed the tension to leave and exhaustion to take over. A smile twitched on her lips when she heard his faint groan as she shifted to nestle her hips more comfortably against the firm length of his body. She dropped into a sound sleep.

She woke alone in the early hours and stretched muscles languid from sleep. Rolling over, she snuggled against the pillow, which still carried Nick’s scent. He hadn’t been out of bed long because his side was still warm. Part of her wished he was with her, but another was very grateful she didn’t have to deal with the awkwardness of waking up with him in her narrow bunk.

She flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling, wondering what she should do. Would he say anything about their night together? Or would he continue to treat her with distant courtesy? She guessed he would treat her as if nothing significant had happened. She was a client and no matter how she might wish otherwise, he was very clear on the subject. When it came to Nick Rayven, he would lay down his life for her if needed, but he wasn’t going to let her get too close emotionally.

She found it difficult to admit her awareness of him. The attraction keeping her off balance was one-sided. She was probably misreading the occasional touches and the emotions she saw move in his eyes. He was being kind–doing his job.

Demoralized by her musings, she got out of bed and headed for the cleanser. All of a sudden, she was desperate to remove his scent clinging to her skin. She knew she was in deep, and he already owned more of her heart than she could afford to give. She would get it broken before this was all over if she weren’t careful.

* * * *

Nick slumped in his chair and sipped a cup of hot tayberry. He welcomed the bite of it this morning because his mind still felt sluggish from a bad night.

Idly looking over the ship schematics and working with Siren to shore up the damaged shields helped keep him somewhat occupied. His thoughts tended to wander back to Tru with a frequency preventing him from fully engaging in the task at hand. Concentration shot, he found it a little unnerving to realize he was staring at the computer tablet he held with no real idea what he was looking at yet again. He grimaced and put it down.

His resolve had been tested when he crawled out of bed and left the enchanting form who had slept so perfectly in his arms. Lying beside her without running his hands over the curves nestled so firmly against him had been almost unbearable, and he cursed the impulse that had driven him into her bunk. He’d been an idiot to give in to temptation, but he couldn’t totally regret his actions, not if he were being honest with himself. It was becoming impossible to spend time with her and keep his hands to himself.

Annoyed, he tightened his grip on his mug as he wrenched his thoughts away from her and the question of what he intended to do about his tangled emotions.

A high-pitched wail from the back of the ship startled him into almost spilling hot liquid into his lap. He half rose from his seat before he realized what he was doing. He sank into his chair with a faint, rueful smile. Tru had just discovered the water in the cleanser was ice-cold. He lifted his cup to his mouth and took another sip of tayberry resigned to the inevitable explosion.

She stormed to the bridge, her hair dripping into her snapping blue eyes. Goose bumps pebbled her arms and her clothing clung in interesting places to her damp skin. She hadn’t taken the time to dry off properly and it was impossible to ignore what was before his fascinated gaze.

“Why didn’t you tell me there was no hot water?”

“You were sleeping the last time I saw you. I didn’t think it was important enough to wake you.” He tried without much success to keep his eyes off the sweet curve of her breasts and the puckered nipples brought on by the cold. He straightened in his chair enough to cross an ankle over his opposite knee and regarded her with wary interest over his mug. “How was I to know you would head for the cleanser first thing?”

“I do it every morning. How could you possibly not know? The water was freezing.”

She glared at him before vigorously rubbing her hands through her wet hair, scattering droplets of icy moisture over him.

“Hey, what’d you do that for?” He lurched, sloshing his drink over his hand and onto his shirt. Scowling, he brushed at the mess with one hand while placing his mug in a holder with the other.

“Thanks for not warning me, jerk. You deserved it.” Sinking into her own chair, she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, matching his scowl with one of her own.

He studied the angry set of her jaw and felt a little guilty he hadn’t thought to warn her. “You’re right, I was thoughtless.” Shifting sideways in his seat he reached for the jacket slung over the chair back. He leaned forward and carefully draped it over her hunched shoulders. “I wasn’t thinking.”

The jacket was heavy and swallowed her whole, but it would warm her up soon enough. She crossed her arms over her chest and pulled the edges of the coat closer. Then, she ducked her head into the fabric gathered under nose and took a breath. A tiny grin flashed and everything in him tightened.

“How long until we get to Zeegret Station?” It was an olive branch and he knew it.

“We’re within a half standard day. I’ve been routing as much power as we can spare to the fuel cells to give us more speed.
Dominion
is fast, faster than any ship I’ve flown, and even with our current limitations she’s making remarkable time.”

“Will we be on the station long, do you think?” Idly, she traced a pattern on her raised knee with a fingertip.

“Depends.” He watched her through hooded eyes. “It shouldn’t take too long to remove the damaged cells and replace them with new, but you never know.”

Her palm flat on her thigh, she languidly ran it over the smooth material of her pants up to her knee and back down again toward her hip. He figured she wasn’t being deliberately provocative, but it didn’t stop him from following the movement of her hand and thinking about what lay under it.

“I’ve never been on a space station before. Have you?”

He looked at her blankly. “What?”

“I asked if you have ever been on a space station before. Are you all right?”

“Fine. I’m fine. And, yes, I’ve been on a station before.” He reached for his mug, and took a deep gulp of the now cold drink and forced himself to swallow. Sitting up, he dropped his booted foot back on the floor and swiveled his chair to face the console. Pretending an interest he was far from feeling, he checked the screens for status.

“What was it like?”

Her voice was soft, her tone curious and reached out to him like a silken web. His jaw clenched until his teeth hurt as he fought the irresistible lure she cast.

“Nick?”

“What? I’m busy here, Tru,” he snapped, and then wished he could call the words back. Turning his head he glanced at his companion, his expression contrite. “Damn it, I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Irritated with her and with himself, he scrubbed a hand over his face.

She rose from her chair, removed his jacket from around her shoulders, and handed it to him with exaggerated care.

“Obviously, I’m in the way here.” Careful not to touch him in any way, she stepped away and headed for the crew quarters.

All he could do was remain in his seat and not follow her. Unable to trust himself not to throttle her out of frustration, he stared out the viewscreen. He hardly recognized himself when he was around her. What the hell had happened to him? Where was his well-known control, his methodical approach to any situation? She only had to smile at him and he lost his train of thought. He handled explosive situations with aplomb, but found himself snapping and snarling at her with the least provocation. How damned humiliating to know one small female could tie him up in such knots.

“Captain, Zeegret Station is requesting an ETA.” Siren’s voice was clipped and held a note of censure that surprised Nick.

She’d been listening in again and heard his exchange with Tru. Conversational nuances still confused her, but she’d picked up the anger in his tone easy enough. Obviously, she disapproved.

“Thank you, Siren,” he replied, pushing aside his thoughts of Tru. He was pleased with Siren’s progress and noted on more than one occasion she tended to model her voice patterns after Tru’s. He wasn’t sure how he would deal with it once Tru returned to her family; the reminder of her would be hard to contend with. “Respond immediately to inquiry. Request docking instructions for arrival.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Call up electrical schematics for
Dominion
. I want to look at them again.”

He forced himself to concentrate on the intricacies of his ship, what repairs were critical or could wait until they were back on Alludra. He refused to dwell on his attraction to his irritating passenger or to give in to the impulse to follow her and smooth over their most recent spat. He felt it best for her to keep her distance. At least, he kept telling himself it was.

Relief filled him when Siren announced Zeegret Station was on their approach. He watched the space station come into view and expertly guided Siren through the docking processes sent to them. She responded like a dream and he smoothly attached the ship to the designated docking arm with barely a bump.

“Siren, all commands to come through me for duration of our stay,” Nick ordered, reverting to his native language. It was a security measure to prevent anyone from accessing the ship beyond necessary repairs. The odds of anyone speaking Tonlithian were astronomical.

“Acknowledged,” Siren replied in the same language.

He exited the bridge and headed to the back of the ship. His steps checked for one heart-stopping moment when he saw Tru standing by the door. He felt the expected visceral punch, had even tried to prepare for it, but he couldn’t anticipate the possessiveness hitting him from out of nowhere.