Wanted: White Russian (3 page)

"Just breathe, little warrior," Dubnikov said, softly. "Hit your aft thrusters for a two-second burst to start a counter spin. You'll dance right around the density."

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Wanted: White Russian

by Marteeka Karland

Instinctively, she did what he commanded. Sure enough, they slid right past the stellar material sideways and right back into the current running the course of the nebula, though much faster this time. Tiressa was sitting on the edge of her chair, hardly daring to breathe. Every time she hesitated, Dubnikov quietly guided her.

By the time they could see the clearing of the nebula and the end of the storm densities, Tiressa was sweating and shaking. Her nerves were about to snap, but she had to go on. Only a few more minutes, and they would be free. Just as she was about to let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, a pocket of storm density rolled as it grew in volume right in front of her. Energy swirled all around the ship, trapping static electricity. Her console crackled, and when she laid her fingertips on its smooth surface, a jolt hard enough to knock her arms numb flew through her hands. The force of it slammed her back into her seat. She tried to stifle her scream, but cried out all the same. How in the world she was going to navigate when she couldn't use her hands was beyond her. And right now, she needed to move them away from the cluster storm. If not, they'd likely fry.

"Don't fire the thrusters!" Dubnikov had spoken in calm, hushed tones until now. This order, he snapped with all the authority of a man used to being obeyed. "Let the ship drift.

The gravity within the storm will pull the ship toward it, and the momentum you already have will swing you around and into open space."

Every instinct in Tiressa screamed at her to steer her ship to safety, but she couldn't seem to make herself disobey her 22

Wanted: White Russian

by Marteeka Karland

prisoner. A heartbeat later, it was too late, and she was committed to his course of action. Her heart pounded, and she found herself closing her eyes, waiting for death. When nothing happened, she dared a peek and found that, indeed, her ship still faced the density, but was swinging around it and into open space, pulling free of its gravity by mass and momentum.

Relief was so overwhelming, she almost sobbed aloud. As it was, she fell against her seat back, weak as a newborn babe. She trembled violently and knew there was no way she could do anything constructive to secure her ship or their heading.

"You should really fire your thrusters for a couple of seconds to keep us moving away from the nebula." Dubnikov spoke in that husky, quiet voice once again. Gone was the voice of command, and in its place was that maddeningly sexy tone of voice. Thing was, Tiressa was hard-pressed to say she wasn't attracted to either.

Her hands shook too much for her to do much more than hold down the thruster activation for a few seconds before she had to sit back again. She was lightheaded and knew she was hyperventilating. Making a conscious effort to breathe deep and slow, Tiressa put her head between her knees and just concentrated on staying conscious.

After a while, Dubnikov said, "You did good navigating your first storm. I know seasoned veterans who couldn't have forced themselves to drift around that last density. You should be proud of yourself."

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Wanted: White Russian

by Marteeka Karland

She looked up at him, her forearms still resting on her knees. "Go fuck yourself," she snapped. To her surprise, her burly captive only chuckled.

"A little difficult, under the circumstances, but I'm willing if you are."

Tiressa had never been so scared in her life. She had to get herself under control or she was going to be desperately, violently ill. "Just keep to yourself and let me be." Her arms were beginning to ache and throb madly now. She also realized that her fingertips were seared. Mentally, she did a quick check of her body, concentrating on any twinge of pain that shouldn't be there that would indicate an exit of the electrical current. She needed to have the med-unit check her out, but she seriously doubted if she could operate the damned thing now. If both her arms weren't broken, she'd be damned surprised.

"Unlock the cuffs, and I'll help you."

"Will that be before or after you kill me?" Her retort was delivered through clenched teeth. There was no way she could hide her pain long. If she was managing at all. "I'm fine."

"Like hell," he spat. "A shock like that can shatter bone.

You've got good muscle tone, so you were protected somewhat, but I'm betting you've broken something. Look at your hands, for fuck's sake! They're turning dark. You've cut off their blood supply somewhere, and they're burned." He pulled against the cuffs holding him to the bulkhead, muscles bulging in his arms like the most important thing in his world right now was getting to her.

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Wanted: White Russian

by Marteeka Karland

Tiressa groaned. And not because of the pain, though it was growing fierce. She was a tall, muscled woman, but this man towered over her and had muscle and bulk enough for two men. Exactly the type of man she loved, but rarely came across. Too damned bad he was a murderer.

She sighed. Killer or not, he was the only chance she had.

There was no way she could do anything in the condition she was in, and she knew it. "I doubt very seriously I could get you loose if I tried. I have no idea how those cuffs work, and I don't think I can manipulate anything intricate at the moment."

She fumbled with the first cuff for a moment figuring she might as well try. She didn't have any other options. It was surprisingly simple to undo it, and she had a moment to wonder if station security had set her up before Dubnikov reached for the second cuff with his free hand, released it, and was on her. She gasped when he scooped her up and headed to a small room just behind the main control room.

How he knew where her med-unit was, Tiressa had no idea, but he carried her there without hesitation.

With much greater gentleness than Tiressa could have believed possible for a man with his reputation, he set her in the reclining chair and brushed her forehead gently with one large hand. Dubnikov didn't say anything as he turned toward the computer and entered a sequence of commands, but when he turned back to her, his green eyes blazed.

"You should have released me and let me pilot us out of there, and you wouldn't be in this position."

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Wanted: White Russian

by Marteeka Karland

"No, you would. And I'm not at all certain I would help you if you were." The pain was starting to get to her now, and her response was gritted out through clenched teeth. "And don't think you're intimidating me with that stare. I'm hurting too much to care."

"Yeah," he grunted. "Figured."

The med-unit strapped her arms to the chair. A band wrapped around her arm, and a needle stabbed her at the bend of her elbow. Immediately, a euphoric feeling swept over her, and she knew it had injected pain medicine into her vein.

"Is it working?" Dubnikov asked softly. He stroked her hair gently, and Tiressa knew she should be annoyed, but it felt good. His touch soothed her like nothing had in a very long time. Well, that and the medicine.

"Um hum," she acknowledged, closing her eyes and giving in to the sensations. Her arms still ached, but nothing like they had moments earlier. "Your hands feel good." She hadn't meant to blurt that out, but it was true, and she wouldn't take it back. "Don't stop."

Warmth spread through her body at his deep chuckle. He didn't stop. Instead, he massaged her scalp and combed her hair through his fingers. Tiressa was vaguely aware of the sound of his breathing, deep and regular. She didn't protest when his hands settled on her shoulders and started working their magic on her tense muscles. Though the pain medicine made her pleasantly numb, her neck and shoulders were still tight from the tension during their little jaunt through the nebula storm.

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Wanted: White Russian

by Marteeka Karland

The med-unit beeped a couple of times, and her brain fogged further, the room beginning to spin. More medicine.

She groaned, knowing it would be infinitely safer to keep her wits about her. Unfortunately, it was way too late for that.

She enjoyed his hands on her neck and shoulders and soon just gave into the pleasure. It wasn't like she could do anything about it if he decided to take over the ship, or, worse, kill her. She was stoned.

The med-unit closed over her body from shoulders to ankles and immediately a comfortable warmth suffused her body. There must have been more pain medicine because a fresh wave of dizziness and euphoria overtook her, and she didn't fight it.

Delicious feelings swamped her body. It wasn't hard to imagine it was Dubnikov who was making her feel so good. In this surreal moment, there was no way she could fight her attraction enough to banish him from her thoughts. Tiressa drifted somewhere between reality and a drug-induced dream, not even trying to separate the two.

He was truly a handsome man—blond hair flowing to his shoulders, green eyes so vivid they looked like emeralds sparkling. Tiressa instinctively knew those eyes could freeze the soul or heat the body with one glance. In her case, her body was on fire. Warmth coiled deep within her belly, and she simply let it happen.

In her mind, Dubnikov's hands roamed her body, soothing the aches in her muscles. Her legs. Her arms. His hands seemed to be everywhere. His fingertips grazed her abdomen 27

Wanted: White Russian

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to just below her breasts in feather-light touches, and Tiressa moaned.

"Do you still hurt, little warrior?"

Dubnikov's voice seemed to come from far away even though she knew he was still next to her. "No," she mumbled, not certain if she'd formed the word correctly. Her face seemed numb due to the pain medicine the med-unit had injected her with. It occurred to her she was at the mercy of a killer, but as long as she died in a pleasant haze, she didn't really care. Everything felt too good for that.

His hands on her shoulders and face and head continued their easy massage, but so did the ones on her legs and the trunk of her body. She gasped when her breasts began to tingle. Her nipples pebbled under what felt like huge hands covering them, squeezing them gently. Dubnikov's hands were certainly big enough to cover her breasts. It felt more like an exploratory touch, and somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she knew it was the med-unit healing any bruising to her chest. Unfortunately, to her drug-fogged brain, all she could process was that Dubnikov was playing with her body as if he owned it. As if he wanted her as much as she'd wanted him since the first time she'd seen him.

Tiressa was lost in pleasure. She knew it was mostly the drugs enhancing her carnal thoughts but couldn't seem to drum up the energy to fight her way back to reality. Fact was, she wasn't sure she wanted to. The fantasy was so much more wonderful. In the real world, Dubnikov was her enemy, or at the very least not her friend. He might have helped her through the nebula storm, but he'd benefited as much as she 28

Wanted: White Russian

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had. Probably more. If he killed her now, he'd have her ship to go anywhere he wanted. He could space her body, and she'd never be found.

Still, his hands were gentle in his steady massaging of her scalp and forehead. Her body burned and throbbed with sexual excitement she was helpless to fight. He might kill her, but at least she'd go happy.

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Wanted: White Russian

by Marteeka Karland

Yuri continued to let his hands explore the silky hair of Tiressa's head. He'd made good use of his time while she was in the med-unit and had the computer read her bio to him.

Tiressa Sabian seemed to be as straightforward as her bio suggested. She'd certainly not pulled any punches with him.

He definitely liked that. He wouldn't have to worry about where he stood with her.

Now, she seemed to tolerate his touch easily enough, enjoyed it even, if the little moans she was making were any indication. The med-unit had no doubt pumped her full of drugs to kill the pain and infection, but he seriously doubted her reaction would have been any different no matter what.

Assuming she'd drop her defenses long enough to let him get that close if she were stone cold sober. He'd already figured out she said exactly what she meant. Women like her were a rarity. He intended to enjoy this one as long as she'd let him.

"Oh, God..." Her voice trailed off, but he'd clearly understood her meaning. She squirmed in the med-unit, restless and edgy. Yuri backed off slightly, but still played in her wealth of silky dark hair. "Don' stop." Her words were slightly slurred, and he was certain she was dreaming. There was no way this woman would go willingly on a sexual rollercoaster with him if not for the drugs. Sad, but he knew it and accepted it.

"As much as I'd love to accommodate you, my sweet, I doubt I'd be doing either of us any favors." He knew he 30

Wanted: White Russian

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needed to leave her hair alone, but touching it, stroking it, seemed to be a compulsion. He settled for twirling a strand of the silky stuff around one finger.

"If you stop, I might kill you when I get out of this thing."

He chuckled. "Oh, I find it highly probable you would try, but I think we both know you wouldn't succeed."

"You ever had an attempt made on your life by a sexually frustrated woman?"

Her eyes opened for a brief moment and locked with his before slowly drifting closed as if she couldn't hold them open any more. Yuri sighed and kissed her forehead. He'd never felt such attraction to any other person in his life as he felt for Tiressa. It probably had everything to do with the fact that she had no hidden agenda. She was what she was and made no apologies for it. It was exceedingly refreshing for a man imbedded so deeply in lies and intrigue.