The balmy computer-generated breeze flowed through Ivo El Boeka’s private quarters on Level 1, giving the occupier the impression of a warm night he’d often experienced in the mountains of Cerciron.
A massive holograph depicting the jagged and treacherous landscape of his home planet covered the smooth wall on one side. Gradually the scene changed to night with the shadows lengthening and a band of glittering stars appearing in the sky above. On the horizon a moon banded by rings hovered above the tallest mountain. Thin ribbons of pale light glowed like pointing fingers of accusation towards where he paced the length of the starkly furnished room.
With an impatient snap of his head against his shoulder, he attempted to ease the itch on the tip of his nose. A complete waste of time.
He did not dare release his grasp of the baby in his arms.
Despite having faced and conquered dire situations in the past, situations that would have made most warriors turn weak kneed and run, not one of those desperate times compared to this…this situation that revolved around one determined, stubborn, screaming infant.
The dark-haired Darkon female he’d hired, trotted to and fro at his side. Her serene face puckered into lines of anxiety and her lamentations added to the growing crescendo of noise that could have toppled the strongest building.
Ivo raised his eyes to the ceiling and prayed to his goddess of old for patience. Some silence would be good.
Any silence.
A brief respite from this all consuming noise which pierced through his skull and threatened to rattle loose all the teeth in his head. How could so much noise emanate from something so small? He rubbed the little back with a gentle hand which failed to soothe the distraught baby.
They had both tried everything.
But nothing gave Mia any consolation. Not the one hundred percent free-roaming berbers’ milk, not the freshly squeezed niska juice, not the fabled water from the Flaviani Springs, not the expensive plush soft toys, not the lively youngling tunes playing with nauseating repetitiveness from his compu intercom.
Nothing gave her solace.
‘She cries for her parent,’ Ursa El Florentt said, wringing her hands over another excruciatingly shrill wail. ‘Perhaps…’
The rest of her words died away as Ivo glared at her.
He compressed his lips and stalked back and forth.
Nothing! Nothing would induce him to go begging for assistance from that inferior honourless female!
The memory of their recent encounter still left him with a bitter twist to his mouth. Bitter, because deep down inside in a place he rarely visited he had nurtured a hope that perhaps she would prove to be otherwise. For one long moment, he had been so sure she truly cared for her offspring. Only to have this impression blown away by the alacrity of her acceptance of his offered creds.
Worse had been his body’s unbridled response to her proximity. Dormant for so long, it had required all of his formidable self control to refrain from seeking release in her lusciously curved body.
Where had that ferocious hunger come from? Could it be caused by the cycles of celibacy he’d endured? Up until now, he’d scoffed at any of his fellow warriors who had bragged about the potency of their Earth mates’ ability to fire their senses. Even awakening the “pull”, that fabled almost mystical bonding of mate to mate.
He was a Traditionalist.
A warrior who followed the old teachings and scorned all need for any physical connection to anyone.
And yet her warm, faintly floral scent still filled his senses. The memory of her plump breasts and rounded bottom made his hands itch to hold and shape. Worse, his sex still throbbed painfully in a rigid arousal he had no hope of easing any time soon.
A vivid vision of her heart-shaped face, the contours of her lips and the velvety softness of her brown eyes floated in front of his eyes.
This is madness. Ivo set his jaw. I must be mistaken. This is the same female my brother bedded and who bore his seed. Unthinkable for me to take what had been his!
A snort of self-derision exploded from him. The baby in his arms lifted her head, her clear blue eyes wide with surprise, her bow of a mouth pursed closed.
Relief flooded him.
Mia scrunched up her face and returned to her blood curdling screams.
At least the youngling’s yelling managed to reduce his body’s craving to a more bearable ache.
Ivo marched closer to his compu and checked the time. A bare ten sectons had passed since the last moment he’d looked.
It was going to be a long wait until his shuttle was readied for departure. He shuddered at the horrifying prospect of the long journey to Darkos and having to listen to this terrible sound for rones without end. What if they were unable to get her to drink? How will the little one survive?
Mouth compressed, he stalked to the other end of the room, resisting the craven urge to thrust the crying baby into the Darkon female’s arms and head in an uncharacteristic move towards a tankard of strong liquor. Mia was his responsibility now. Never would he turn his back on her like he had his sibling.
He about-turned and paced the length of the room again, but the memory of his last conversation with Neo snapped at his heels.
For he still recalled almost word perfect Neo’s pleas for his understanding…for his support. But he had remained obdurate against his brother’s questioning of their family’s continued involvement in the Traditionalist movement.
Their last argument had been bitter and contained many words Ivo wished unspoken. If he had listened, been more willing to understand Neo’s concerns then perhaps his brother would still be alive.
And he certainly would never then have crossed the path of that female from some far-flung, previously unknown planet.
Mia’s shrieks reached a level of sound he had never heard before and Ivo ceased his restless pacing while he stared anxiously at the plexi-glass porthole. Thank the stars! It remains intact.
Sweat trickled behind his neck as he realised his grip had tightened. He swiftly loosened his clasp and placed an awkward kiss to the top of the youngling’s silky hair.
Then he froze.
Why on Cercis had he done such a thing?
Shaken, he swung away and patted her back with awkward strokes. Her heartrending sobs sliced into his hardened heart. Those two tear-drenched blue eyes gazed into his face with reproach. Shock punched him squarely in the gut as he recognised in their depths the bereft loneliness of an abandoned child.
A feeling he had experienced for himself when his parent had enrolled him into military school when he was a bare five cycles. A feeling he’d hoped to never encounter again. Yet here this tiny scrap of humanity was suffering just as he had suffered.
And he was the cause.
‘You win, little one,’ he murmured, conscious of a profound relief lightening his essence as he made the decision.
And the instant rigid attention of his sex.
It appeared he would have to re-think his tactics.
Further interaction with his brother’s mate would be certain to curtail these foolish imaginings.
***
With shaking fingers, Stephanie tightened the bulky backpack’s straps across her stomach and cast another glance over her shoulder.
The long corridor on Level 1 was empty.
Her gaze switched back onto the hatch confronting her. Heart thudding, she examined the control panel. No different from any other out-moded security system she’d seen on the space station so it shouldn’t be too difficult to by-pass.
Something’s not right. Where’s this bloke’s personal guards?
Fingers poised above the keys, she hesitated but the knowledge that time wasn’t on her side drove her onwards. Any second now, a guard could come marching down the corridor or fling open the door.
Three times she keyed in code, fourth time lucky. A narrow, blue light appeared about the hatch, signifying the lock was disengaged. Holding her breath, she pulled from her pants’ pocket, a stun tube. One quick press and it was activated. She inched open the hatch and tossed the tube into the room, quickly ducking back out again to lean against the door.
Heart pounding, she mentally counted down the seconds.
Twenty.
If all went according to plan, the occupants of these quarters would be knocked out for a minimum of ten minutes. More than enough time for her to snatch up Mia and rush to the departure bay. An earlier glimpse at the flights timetable had revealed a re-supply shuttle bound for the planet below was due to depart very soon.
Fingers crossed my luck will hold and I’ll be able to bribe the chief-on-deck and sneak on board. Once on Verrilous, we’ll blend into one of the refugee camps. And thanks to the creds Ice Man has given me, he won’t find us so easily a second time.
On that thought, Stephanie yanked a pair of goggles over her eyes and shoved a breather into her mouth. She wrenched open the hatch and stepped inside. A faint greenish haze blurred her vision until she clicked on the tiny button on the top of her goggles.
That’s better. She examined the main living area carefully. A middle-aged Darkon female with greying black hair lay slumped on a sofa, her eyes closed, and her mouth open, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm as she slept.
Two Darkon guards had sagged against the far wall and slipped onto the floor in a tangle of limbs. One guy had his face nestled in the other’s groin.
Steph grinned as she imagined their reactions to their intimate position when they eventually regained consciousness.
An open door to her left revealed another room, which she assumed by the lack of light flowing through the opening, must be the sleeping quarters. Eight bounding paces and she was there, peering in past the door-jamb into the shadows. Another typical rack room with one massive bunk and a smaller one beside it, a cleansing room tucked into a corner.
A large shape lay prone on the double bunk, soft deep breathing signalling his unconscious state.
Him.
Her loud heartbeats filled her ears as she stepped cautiously towards the smaller bunk. And there, nestled in a cocoon of soft wraps, was Mia.
Reefing a shayote from her belt, Stephanie did a careful examination of the sleeping baby. Data flickered through the air and some of her anxiety lessoned as she read the results. All good. Mia would suffer no ill-effects from the stun tube and should sleep for another twenty minutes. Quickly, Stephanie re-clipped the shayote to her belt and scooped the baby into her arms.
She tiptoed past the bunks, heading for the door, expecting at any moment for one of the guards to sound the alarm.
Sweat chilling her flesh, she hurried across the room, her gazed fixed on the outer hatch. A light flashed on the timer encircling her wrist.
Only five minutes left!
Almost there. She ran the last two paces, reached the hatch, pushed on the door with her shoulder. As if in slow motion, it swung open.
Ducking her head, she lifted her right foot to step over the hob.
The fine hairs on her nape bristled.
Oh man! It’s him.
He must have the constitution of an ox to regain consciousness so fast.
A hard hand gripped her upper arm, yanking her to a halt. Like a desperate fish at the end of a hook, she jerked and pulled, attempting to twist out of his hold.
‘Cease your struggling, little thief,’ growled Ivo behind her.
Panting, Stephanie gave one mighty wrench and his hand fell away. Her foot caught under the hob. Unable to use her arms to regain her balance, she pitched forward.
An arm looped around her waist and heaved her backwards, stopping her momentum. She pressed a shaky kiss to Mia’s soft curls. As her pulse gradually slowed its frenzied race, she realised exactly where she stood. Pressed hard against a wall of hot, earthy-scented muscle, and trapped by arms that felt like steel girders.
Gulping, she sucked in air and made a tentative movement.
The Darkon imprisoning her changed his hold, gripping her hips and turning her to face him.
Now what?
Trembling, Stephanie pushed the goggles to the top of her head but didn’t raise her eyes from a chest so wide it filled her vision. His touch seared into her skin, causing her to shake inside. Something fluttered in her lower abdomen and she shuffled her feet.
How long they stood there, she had no idea. For Steph, it felt like an eternity before he spoke again.
One word. ‘Clever.’
He released her to step back and wave her forward.
Pointless to run, although every sense she possessed shrieked at her to turn tail and head for the proverbial hills. But to do so could risk her falling and injuring Mia.
Instead, Stephanie stomped back into the compartment.
Over near the wall, the two guards had risen to their feet and now, their faces a ruddy bronzed colour, they both glared at her.
Ivo pointed at the sofa, where the Darkon female still slept.
Stephanie perched on the edge and kept her gaze stubbornly fixed at a spot near his feet. Why she knew this would irritate him, she had no idea. But any chance to annoy or get the better of him was too good to miss.
‘It is not often I underestimate my opponent,’ he said in a conversational tone.
He stepped closer and placed a finger beneath her chin, tugging her face upward. When she jerked her face sideways, he removed his hand.
She flicked him a sideways glance. At the inscrutable expression on his face, Steph swallowed. She well knew he could order her incarceration in some cell for who-knew how long and there was nothing she could do about it. Something in her face must have alerted him to her thoughts for he gave a sharp nod.
‘I am glad you understand the seriousness of your position,’ he said coolly. ‘But as I have no wish to continually look over my shoulder to check what you are up to next, I propose a bargain.’
Stephanie popped the breather from her mouth and narrowed her eyes. ‘What kind of bargain?’
‘One that will suit both of us.’ He pointed at her. ‘I will allow you care of the youngling but only on my terms. You will obey me at all times. You will have no authority over her nor will you have any rights as a parent. This agreement will remain in place until she has settled into her new life. At that time, you will be transported to a planet of your choosing and never will you attempt any contact with her.’
Dream on, as if that’s ever going to happen. ‘What happens if I don’t agree?’
‘I will ensure you will face punishment for your crimes of desertion of your post and theft.’
He’s got a mind like a steel trap. Stephanie eyed him warily, noting the stubbornly jutting chin and a fleeting flash of such heat in his dark eyes it made her recoil in surprise.
What was that?
Lust?
For me?
The thought sent her gaze hunting over him, as if this was the first time she’d thought of him as a man. He was big, like all Darkons, exuding a strength and power that called to her femininity on the most primitive level. His mouth, controlled into a straight line, hinted at passion with that full, slightly protruding lower lip. And he certainly was built with shoulders wide enough to carry the heaviest of burdens, narrow hipped and heavily muscled thighs, easily discerned by the clinging material of his flight pants.
And…
Her mouth dried as she zeroed in on his thick bulge. His words, you will obey me… echoed inside her head. What if he meant something other than Mia’s welfare?
The thought should terrify me.
But, oh man, it doesn’t!
Her gaze jolted upwards to be ensnared by the feral glow in his eyes.
‘There is one, last stipulation to our bargain.’ Bending slightly, he reached out and fingered her pony tail, allowing the strands of hair to slide through his fingers.
Stephanie held her breath.
He straightened, his hand falling to his side. ‘Should I decide to appease the needs of my flesh, you will share my bed.’