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AFTER EVERYTHING RICKA had been through this morning, the last thing Synge wanted to do was upset her. And learning her friend might be sold to slavers would cause her more pain. She’d be angry enough once she discovered his real reason for luring her to his ship. “I am unsure why she was taken but will do whatever I can to get her back.”
“Thank you.” She made another turn, and bright lights appeared in the distance. “The landing bays are up ahead. This is a back entrance.” She tapped the controls, and the vehicle slowed.
Synge was relieved to find the gate unmanned. He preferred to stay off the patrol’s radar. They would ask too many questions and try to detain him, especially once they realized he’d been injured.
Ricka drove along the strip adjacent to the landing pads. “Which vessel is yours?”
“There.” He pointed. “At the far end of the bay.”
They drove past two colony cruisers. Both appeared unoccupied. There weren’t any signs of the Klorthons or their ship, nor had he expected to find any. Either they’d already launched or had landed somewhere outside the colony. The rocky terrain bordering the city provided many flat areas where smaller vessels could easily be disguised. Not an uncommon practice for visitors who wanted to avoid the law—like privateers or slavers.
Ricka stopped the transport, then reached behind the seat and grabbed his belongings. He’d managed to exit the vehicle by the time she’d reached him.
“Here, let me help you.”
He no longer needed her assistance but didn’t resist when she draped his arm across her shoulders. He enjoyed having her shapely body tucked against his side.
“How do we get in?” she asked.
The hard steel hull of his ship was smooth and dull, designed to hide the point of entry. “There is an access panel near the cargo hold.”
After they reached the opposite end of the ship, he placed his palm on a small square panel. The security was keyed to his prints alone. There was a soft whining noise, then a small ramp dropped to the ground.
“Which way?” Ricka asked once they were inside.
“Up ahead.” He aimed her toward the control room and took a seat in the pilot’s chair. His wound wasn’t deep enough to be life-threatening. He possessed a high tolerance to pain, and his blood had quick-healing properties. Several hours of rest and it would be nothing more than an irritating throb.
He’d been astonished when she’d exposed her beautiful body to help him when she thought he might be dying. His memory drifted to her determined expression and the way the fabric of her black bra enhanced her full breasts. A twinge of guilt tightened his gut. He’d hated being deceitful, but he’d needed to get her onto his ship without a struggle.
She appeared apprehensive. “Where is your med kit?”
He tipped his chin toward the narrow passageway. “Storage to the right.” He’d purposely neglected to give her an exact location, hoping it would take her several minutes to find the small box.
As soon as she disappeared, he turned the chair toward the ship’s controls. He pressed the button to raise the ramp, then instructed the computer to lock all access portals and engage the password sequence. Next, he set the autopilot for Tarron and programmed the launch sequence, which would have them off planet in fifteen minutes. Being a member of the quadrant enforcement allowed him to come and go as he pleased. He wasn’t required to gain permission to land or take off like regular vessels.
He admired Ricka’s determination to find her friend, but he couldn’t allow her to leave. Not with Molock still alive. He had no doubt the bastard would come back for her.
If he were being truthful with himself, he’d admit his motivations were purely selfish. He’d been drawn to the spirited human from the moment he walked into the bar. The primal urge to possess and protect the female intensified the more he was near her. Technically, she belonged to him now. Whether or not he’d killed the warrior was moot. She’d become his the minute he’d invoked the rite.
Libby might not have been the only woman the warriors had kidnapped. He would keep his promise and help find her friend, but not until he ensured Ricka was somewhere safe. Synge quickly activated the ship’s communication screen, typed in a message about the abduction, and sent the information to headquarters on Tarron.
Although the colony patrol had decent security, they lacked the manpower or the resources to follow the Klorthons offworld. He wasn’t particularly interested in dealing with colony politics, so he’d let his boss contact the planet’s patrol commander. Let him deal with the situation.
When he detected her footsteps, he repositioned the chair and waited. Ricka came around the corner carrying a small silver box. “Found it.” She knelt in front of him and set the case on the floor. “Sit back and let me dress the wound.”
He took her hand when she reached for his shirt. “There’s no need for you to do this.”
“My father used to come home from the mines with all kinds of cuts and scrapes. I’ve even had to stitch a few of them. I can handle this.”
“Father?” Synge hadn’t considered she might have a family, people who would worry about her. It wouldn’t change anything. He still couldn’t let her go back—not until he’d removed the threat to her life.
Sadness touched her expression. “He died a year ago.”
“And the rest of your family?”
“My mother died when I was young. Before we moved to Rivean.”
“I am sorry.” He understood the loss of parents. Something they had in common.
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago, and I barely remember her.”
“Is there a male you belong to?” For some reason, the thought of her already being claimed by another stabbed at him.
She smiled. “You mean like a boyfriend or husband?”
“Yes.” He’d heard the human terms before to describe a mate and understood their meaning.
“No, it’s just me. Well, Libby and me.” She slowly lifted his shirt.
Having her unclaimed made it easier to take her home. It would also make things less complicated for his commander when he spoke with the colony officials. He focused on the way she bit her lower lip. The action was sensual and made him hard. Holding back a groan, he placed his hands in his lap, hoping she hadn’t seen the state of his arousal.
“She’s my only family now, and I need your help to get her back.” She bit her lip. “You’re still going to help me, right?”
“As I promised, I will do everything in my power to retrieve your friend.”
“What about you? Do you have any family? Is there a woman you belong to?” she asked.
“No. My parents died when I was young, and my mother’s sister raised me. Being a hunter keeps me away from home for long amounts of time. It is hard to have a relationship.” He never really talked about his family, but something about her confident manner and the non-prying tone encouraged him to share with her.
She squeezed his hand. “It sounds kind of lonely.”
At times it was, though he refused to think about it. He’d rather be alone than open himself up to caring about someone only to suffer the pain of losing them. Since meeting Ricka, he’d begun questioning his resolve.
She dropped her gaze. “I’m really sorry about this.”
“Sorry about...”
She yanked her shirt off the wound and dropped it on the floor. The fabric tugged at the dried blood, and pain rippled across his skin. Synge gripped the armrests. “Dammit, woman,” he said through gritted teeth.
“I warned you.” Opening the medical kit, she retrieved a small sealed pouch containing an antiseptic cleansing cloth and tore it open. She pressed her hand against his shirt to keep it in place, then wiped the area around the cut. Heat seared along his nerve endings where her fingertips brushed against his skin. He shifted in his seat, his groin growing more uncomfortable.
She finished removing the blood and dropped the cloth on top of her discarded shirt. “What the hell?” She scrunched her nose and gently touched the area below his ribs.
“Is there a problem?” Synge didn’t have to inspect the cut to know the damage was partially healed.
“Your wound. I thought for sure you’d need stitches, but it’s...”
“Already healing. I know. A part of my genetics.”
Confusion, then understanding dawned. “You...you let me think you were practically dying.” Her dark scowl was enough to flay his flesh.
#
OF ALL THE DECEITFUL, manipulative things. Ricka’s chest tightened, and she felt like screaming.
Synge frowned. “I told you I could see to my wound myself. It is not my fault if you believed otherwise.”
She snatched the kit and jumped to her feet. “Here, put on your own bandage.” She tossed the case in his lap, not caring if it landed on his groin, and the lid slapped against his wound. “Why didn’t you correct me? You could have told me the truth.”
His expression appeared calm, though she saw a tic in the muscle of his jaw. He tossed the kit in the copilot’s chair and got to his feet, his movement sleek, like a predatory cat stalking its prey. “Would you have come with me otherwise?”
Instead of backing away, she lifted her head and glared at him. “Yes, no... I don’t know. Why did you need me to come with you?”
“To keep you safe.” His tone softened, and he caressed her chin with his thumb.
His gentle touch was comfortable yet disarming, and she wasn’t ready to let go of her anger. She’d been alone and taking care of herself for way too long and found it hard to believe she could rely on him let alone trust that he would take care of her. “I suppose agreeing to help me find Libby was a lie. Also meant to protect me.” She clenched her fists, heat burning a path along her throat and cheeks. “Well, I don’t need your help. I’m sure the colony patrol will be more than happy to help me. They can start a search and stop the Klorthons before they leave the planet.”
“I did not lie to you. And I will keep my promise to find your friend as soon as I have secured your safety.” He took another step. “Trust me, the warriors will be long gone before anyone can find them.”
“Please explain. What do you mean by ‘secured my safety’?” He’d saved her life, and his intentions might be honorable, but she needed to leave. His nearness was doing strange things to her insides.
The ship vibrated and the engine rumbled to life. The man is unbelievable. “You sent me for the med kit so you could set the automatic launch sequence, didn’t you?”
His silence answered her question. She didn’t care if he was appealing and sexy and warmed her in places she didn’t want to think about. She hadn’t agreed to be hijacked into space and wasn’t going to stay on the ship one minute longer.
Ricka turned and ran for the exit portal. She’d barely cleared the control room doorway before Synge gripped her around the waist. His strong arms held her firmly against his chest, though not tight enough to hurt her. “It is too late. You cannot leave.”
“Let me go.” She squirmed, and if she could have reached his groin, she would have caused some serious damage. Instead, she raised her leg and rammed the heel of her boot into his shin.
A strangled snarl tore from his throat, and his grip loosened enough for her to break free. “Stop.”
She spun around and slowly backed away from him. “No, I want to go home.”
“Did you not hear me when I said it would be dangerous for you to remain on Rivean?”
“How do I know where you’re taking me will be any better?”
“I give you my word. You belong to me now, and I will defend you with my life, if necessary.”
“I don’t belong to anyone, especially not you,” she spat.
He furrowed his brow. “We shall see.” Lifting her off the ground, he tossed her over his shoulder. His movements were so fast, she didn’t have time to react. He locked an arm across the backs of her legs to keep her in place.
The unbelievable asshole. What the hell does he think he’s doing? “Put me down,” she yelled and pounded on his back.
“No.” He carried her down the passageway toward the back of the ship and didn’t stop until he entered a sleep chamber. He leaned forward and dropped her onto the bed. When she tried to scramble away from him, he pinned her to the mattress and straddled her waist. He held her in place with one hand and used the other to open the storage unit above his head and pull out a pair of restraining cuffs.
“Get off.” She struggled harder, shoving against his unmoving chest.
Grasping the arm without the bruises, he snapped a cuff around her wrist. He hooked the other end of the cuff to the frame along the wall. “I will never hurt you. You are mine to protect.”
She tugged against the band, made of a strange material she’d never seen before. It was resiliently soft and didn’t cut into her skin. “Then what do you call this?”
He quirked a brow. “Are you in pain?”
“No,” she huffed. “This is kidnapping. You have no right to keep me locked up like this.”
His dark eyes glowed blue-green, and he lowered his head until their faces were inches apart. “If keeping you locked up ensures you are safe, then yes, I have every right.” He rolled away from her and sat on the edge of the bed, then removed his boots and tugged off his shirt.
“What are you doing?” What she really wanted to ask was what he planned to do to her. She nervously watched him—more like gaped at him. She couldn’t keep from glimpsing at the well-defined muscles of his back. Damn, the man was ripped.
Her earlier fascination with his markings got the better of her, and she caught herself before she reached out to touch them. They reminded her of the spots on a cheetah and trailed from the top of his neck across one shoulder, continuing along his side and disappearing beneath the edge of his pants. They didn’t have the appearance of an elaborate tattoo, and she wondered if all Tarrons possessed a similar pattern on their skin.
Synge glanced at her over his shoulder. “I need to rest.” He slowly perused the length of her body. “Unless you are interested in having me take care of other needs.”
“No, I...”
He sighed. “It has been a long time since I have been with a woman, and I find you very appealing. I suggest you cease the talking and go to sleep. Otherwise, I may not be able to control myself.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then clamped it shut and scooted her back against the wall. He could do whatever he wanted to her, and there was no one around to stop him.
He shifted and pressed his chest across her legs, then firmly gripped her ankle.
She gasped and tried to pull away. “I thought you said...”
He chuckled and pulled off her boots, tossing them on the floor next to his discarded clothes.
Synge got up and walked across the room, taking a blanket out of a cabinet. He draped it across her body, then climbed in next to her and sprawled on his back. He waved his hand over a sensor on the wall above his head, and the overhead lights dimmed. The only bit of illumination in the darkened room came from the running lights along the floor in the outer passageway.
Ricka stayed as close to the wall as possible, trying not to touch him. It was extremely difficult since his large body consumed a majority of the small space. He had a pleasing male aroma, spicy and sexually tempting. So tempting that her body was getting uncomfortably warm and in dire need of a man’s touch. What the hell is wrong with me? She fought the urge to squirm or alert him to her discomfort.
This was definitely not what she’d had in mind when she was fantasizing about Synge earlier. She still had no idea what the whole “mine to protect” thing was all about. Even though he hadn’t hurt her, kidnapping her definitely wasn’t a good way to win her trust. She had to stop thinking about him and come up with a plan to get out of this predicament so she could find a way to rescue Libby. The memories of what Molock had planned to do to her were fresh in her mind, and she prayed her friend would be spared the same fate.
She had no idea where Synge was taking her, but once they landed, she was determined to find a way to escape. Hopefully, they were going to a city. A city with many transports. Surely she could persuade someone to help her. How hard could it be, right?
She wasn’t sure how long she remained tense and unmoving, listening to him breathe. When she was certain he’d fallen asleep, she allowed herself to relax. Convinced her new plan would be successful, she snuggled farther under the blanket and slowly let sleep take her.
