Whispers in the Dawn (11 page)

Harley hastily concealed his frown and schooled his face to show no expression. There were spies everywhere who might have seen this encounter and questioned his actions and motives to the Murrach.

Odessa Grante had managed to accomplish what no one else had in a long while—to capture part of the heart that had lain frozen since his wife’s death. He had known Odessa less than twenty-four hours.

On the other hand, Violette could just as easily be involved in whatever machinations Roland Baylon had left behind. No one did anything on Romaydia without material profit on the horizon or in hand. Harley could see no other alternative. Odessa and Violette were in collusion. How else could he explain Violette’s actions? He refused to think Odessa was as innocent as the woman claimed, even if she had openly admitted Odessa had a spirit that refused to be conquered.

Violette watched Pardua’s lieutenant. She could have found comfort in the man’s strength. He was unlike the Murrach’s other men in that he had a self-confidence about him that wasn’t arrogance.

Tears welled up in her eyes. Years ago, she had fallen in love with a law enforcement man. He’d promised her the moon on a silver platter and because she was young, she’d succumbed to his heady charm. Darryl had wined and dined her for several days before she’d ended up in his bed, a willing slave to his whim. Only later had she discovered he was a cheating liar, dealing with criminals in exchange for drugs. When she’d found out, it was already too late. Like Odessa, she’d been stranded on Romaydia with no money to return home.

After going hungry for many days and getting weaker and weaker, Violette had decided she could do nothing else but what the other women in her position were doing—selling their services to willing travellers. The first time had been the hardest. After that, the servicing became easier, but at a price. She rarely thought of herself as a deserving human being, as someone who was as valuable as any of the travellers arriving at the station. She lived with her guilt every day until she determined that if she could do nothing for herself, she could do something for the women who were inevitably dumped at the station. Now, in a strange way, she wielded power on Romaydia among the denizens of its underbelly. When the kids the women bore on their own—without medical help or any means to save their children from their own fate—misbehaved, Violette took on the role of disciplining them.

At first the children hadn’t cared for her interference, and had tried every means within their limited power to dissuade her from teaching them about kindness and earning a living. They had stuck bubblegum in her long hair, spilled oil into her worn shoes and even burned her out of her cramped quarters. None of their tricks had worked. The children had come to accept her as a mother figure, especially when their own mothers became crazed from the distressing conditions of the station and turned to drugs, or committed suicide.

Violette wouldn’t let Odessa experience the harshness of station life any more than she had to. Violette’s goal was that each woman who had been stranded by a love who’d lost interest would be returned to her home planet. The means to achieve her goal was Dakoda Harley, the Murrach’s man.

Chapter Eleven

Odessa’s dream was remarkable. She had never had one quite like this before. Harley was kissing her again, except this time their lives weren’t in danger on the concourse. He lay beside her on a divan with overstuffed pillows. He twirled her hair around his large index finger and gazed into her eyes, lovestruck and passionate. Irresistibly, she was drawn to his rugged and angular face, to the strength in his jaw and to the corded muscles in his neck. He touched her in a way no other man had. She wanted him to slip her clothes off, to make love, to churn her blood to fever pitch.

“Kiss me,” she murmured, looking into his liquid, brown eyes.

He leant forward with a mischievous expression. “Where do you want me to kiss you?”

“I don’t know,” she breathed, suddenly unsure where she wanted his gorgeous mouth. Her skin was ultra-sensitive, especially her breasts and that golden, yearning place between her thighs.

“You don’t know?” he teased, tracing a lazy path down her cheek with the tip of his finger. “Maybe you don’t want me to kiss you at all.”

“No,” she moaned a tortured, muffled sound. “I want you to, or else I’ll feel unfulfilled.”

“So? Where do you want me to kiss you?”

“Every tender place a woman can have a man,” she replied unabashedly.

“Maybe I should kiss you all over.”

That wouldn’t be such a bad idea, if only he could kiss her on each receptive spot on her skin at the same time. His voice, deliberately hoarse, made her tingle all over. Why did she need him to take the initiative? She grabbed the moment and wrapped her arms around his neck and raised her face to his. His eyes glowed and a small smile played across his lips. His anticipation fuelled her actions, made the kiss long and tempting and more than she had ever dreamed possible. Each of his fevered movements kindled her desire.

Their tongues duelled, a primeval dance of hearts willing and bodies entwined. The heat at her core flamed. She wanted more of him, his rod filling her sheath, his warm lips caressing her throat. Even as she made her silent wish, he began to fade away, a mysterious figure blending into the shadows of love lost.

“You make me crazy for you,” she said, gently breaking the kiss.

He chuckled. “I could say the same of you.” Then, parting the elastic of her panties from her thigh, he tenderly eased his thick cock into her welcoming channel. She threw her head back in ecstasy and he bent and, one by one, sucked on her distended nipples. He thrust into her again and again, slowly at first, then picking up the pace. She wanted more of him, and raked his shoulders with her fingernails.

The only sound he made was a heavy grunt. She cried out as a climax tore through her. He arched his back and screamed into the air but she didn’t catch the name he spoke with such fervour. Odessa struggled to awaken from her vivid dream. She couldn’t allow Harley to vanish. In her mystical dream, he had given her more than a self-centred Roland had in three months. Slowly, as if she was covered in warm sand, she surfaced, prying her eyelids open with her fingers. She examined the room, which had a holographic painting of an unrecognisable, but wonderful, emerald green landscape with an orange-red sky. The eerie scene oddly reminded her of Earth. Homesickness drew its pulsing beat around her. When would she see the Cascade Mountains again, or the apple orchards of the Wenatchee Valley?

She brought her hand to her lips. Amazingly, they were kiss-swollen, as if her dream had been real. Her imagination had bedevilled her. What if he were to make love to her? What if her thighs were spread wide apart and he thrust his rod in her channel? And his lips had once again touched her in places that yearned for him alone? Harley’s lonely eyes disturbed her on one hand. On the other, she resolved not to let his dream kisses torture her during her waking hours. He was a drug Lord’s right-hand man, searching for her so he could turn her in to the drug Lord on Romaydia who could order her around.

“I’ve had more adventure in the last few hours than I bargained for,” she murmured, rising to a seated position.

“Are you awake, sleeping princess?” boomed a voice next to the bed, scaring her half out of her wits.

“I am.” Thankful for the Ashtari’s reassuring presence, she smiled.

“You were going to ask this Ashtari how he is familiar with sleeping princess.”

Odessa laughed. Momentarily, she had forgotten he could read her mind, and was worried the short fellow would have seen her dream about Harley. If he had, he kept the knowledge to himself. “What is your name?”

“It is Eyani, which has no exact equivalent in your language, but roughly means ‘he who conquers all’.”

She burst out laughing. “Are you married? What are you doing on Romaydia?”

“Easy, little one. Take your time and fully awaken before you fire questions at me.”

“How do you know the slang?” she asked.

“What is this ‘slang’?”

Odessa canted her head to one side. “It’s a word that someone makes up to use instead of a stuffier word, which catches on with the rest of the population. Before you know it, everyone’s using it.”

“Which word did I use that is this ‘slang’?”

“You asked me not to
fire
questions at you.”

He nodded, his head barely shifting since he had a very short neck. “I see. As to being married, I am not. That concept does not exist on Ashtar.”

Odessa must have appeared perplexed. Obviously reading her mind, he went on. “We trade our partners, but this does not have the same shocking quality it has on your planet. The men and women trade each other willingly and with joy, with no twine attached.”

“You mean strings, don’t you?”

The gold circle on Eyani’s forehead twirled. “Yes, I think this is your slang again.”

She nodded. “You’re right. I can’t begin to grasp what it would be like to trade my partner. That is, if I had one.” Changing the subject, she said, “You sound like my Uncle Peter.”

The gold moved around his forehead before it stopped and pulsed. “Uncle is relation. The brother of the woman who gave birth to you?”

“Yes. He smokes a pipe and rocks in his chair no matter how cold and blustery it gets.”

“Ashtari have no concept of cold until he travel to other worlds where he froze in knee-deep snow. On Ashtar, it is warm always. No need for shoes or shirt.”

“The winter is cold in Wenatchee but there’s still a lot of beauty. When it snows or when you walk at night and see small crystals from the light in the house.”

Eyani cocked his head to one side. “There is matter of urgency. This man who search for you is not giving up. I believe he see you before I am able to shield you.”

“I thought that kind of thing only existed in the movies.”

“I am not familiar with movies, but I shielded you as soon as I knew you were in danger.”

He sounded almost like a magician, able to hide objects and make them reappear at will. “Is Harley nearby?”

“Yes.”

“Is he alone?”

“Yes. Is that a surprise?”

“I don’t know. I thought he would send the Murrach’s men after me.”

“Then you are in real trouble, little one, for Murrach does not seek out helpless women without definite cause.”

“I have done nothing to warrant his attention. Neither his nor Harley’s.”

“The Murrach’s right-hand man is come to door looking for you.”

Odessa tensed at the sharp knock on the door. “How do you know everything?”

“I read his thoughts as he neared.” He moved closer and touched her arm. “If you stay still, he may step right up to you and not see you within my protective shield. Will you stay still?”

She nodded, instinctively trusting the Ashtari. She couldn’t let Harley find her.

Eyani propelled himself forward and pulled the door open. “Lieutenant,” he said affably, as if Harley was a long-lost spaceship buddy.

“I am searching for a woman who has been stranded here. I need to find her so I can send her home.”

Odessa’s mouth fell open. Harley looked better than ever in a black leather jacket and black pants. His eyes roamed the quarters but did not stop on the bed. Could he really not see her? She was invisible? Did he mean what he’d said about sending her home? Odessa doubted him. He wanted to know where Roland was, and that was one question she couldn’t answer.

Eyani opened the door wide and motioned with a chubby hand around the room. “As you can see, there is no one but my humble self here, enjoying a moment of rest.”

“How is your mission faring?” Harley asked, stepping into the room and surveying the interior as the door shut behind him. A painting of a landscape to the left glowed and the bed sheets were rumpled, as if the Ashtari had risen from his bed to greet him.

“It is going well as can be expected. I will be leaving in a few hours, now that the negotiations have ended to my satisfaction.”

Negotiations to trade for foodstuffs, Harley had learned. He kept his face neutral as he saw the sheets lifted, as if in a tight fist. He examined Eyani’s wrinkled face. He was, like most Ashtaris, being his usual friendly self. Harley didn’t think he had one bad bone in his body.

“Do you wish to negotiate now?” Harley asked, casting a glance from Eyani to the bed and back again.

“I have nothing to trade, so negotiation is pointless.” The Ashtari had probably perfected his blinking as well. Was he lying and shielding Odessa, or was Harley overtired and seeing things?

Harley knew Ashtaris had a weakness for superior, uncut jewels. “Are you sure? I could add to your treasures. Let’s say a sapphire and an emerald of unsurpassed value.”

“A dime a dozen,” Eyani said, still not blinking.

“What if I throw in two pink pearls and a Class A diamond?”

“I still have nothing to negotiate, although the proposal is tempting to find a commodity to trade.”

Harley sniffed Odessa’s fragrant scent of gardenias as she shifted. She might be invisible to his eyes, but not to his nose. “Perhaps Odessa has something of value to trade for, or to negotiate?”

A stifled gasp told him his hunch had been correct. She was sitting on the bed, hidden from his view by the Ashtari’s invisibility shield.

“I tell you there is none here by that name.”

“It’s your last chance to negotiate, Eyani,” Harley warned.

“You are much mistaken.”

Harley stormed past the little man. He had no idea what would happen if he stuck his hand inside the shield, but he had to get to Odessa. Her life was in danger. He had no one to fault for that but himself. And he needed information about Roland Baylon. He exhaled sharply. The woman’s perfume drove him crazy with wanting her. That was another reason to catch her.

He reached inside the shield, fully expecting Odessa to bite or slap him. She did neither, but slid out to the other side of the bed. “I don’t know how to tell you I don’t know anything,” she said. “You can trade whatever you want for me, but I won’t go anywhere with you. Why don’t you try understanding that?”