THEY WERE FINALLY ALONE. Aral sealed the door to their shipboard quarters while Wren sat on the edge of the bed they’d not yet had time to share in the way she wanted. Instead of taking the opportunity to kiss her and hold her, he paced like a caged jungle predator. All because she was forcing him to Sakka and the heart of the Coalition, and he was certain they’d never get out alive.
“If it’s meant to be, Aral, we’ll have our life, our future. If not…”
“How can you leave it up to fate? That’s like the believers, handing everything over to the will of the gods.” He made a fist. “I believe in taking a proactive approach to life. I won’t sit back and place my whole existence in someone else’s hands.”
“Not even mine?”
Her quiet question stopped him. He seemed to want to use a harsh tone, puffing out his chest, then his tenderness for her took over and he calmed. “You’ve completed your promise to your guardian. Now it’s time to complete my promise to you—see you to safety. I won’t leave it up to fate.”
She patted the bed. “Come lie with me for a while. Remember the nights on the mat?”
His mouth softened. “How could I forget?”
“We won’t have long to rest before we have to join the others. I…I want to know what it’s like to be married to you. In every way.”
She huffed out an annoyed groan when he continued to frown, pushing off the bed to walk to his side. She brushed her knuckles over his warm cheek. “If it’s battle you miss, then make me your next campaign. I want a coordinated frontal attack, a well-planned invasion. Maybe even a surprise ambush.”
She was the virgin, yet he turned red. Then he laughed, shaking his head. “I can be an idiot sometimes.”
“Yes, you can.”
“For as long as I planned for you to be with me, now that you are, I don’t know what to do with you, how to be a husband. I wasn’t bred to be one. I had no examples.”
“I have even less of an idea how to be a wife. Although I thought we were off to a good start on that sleeping mat.”
Her hands curved behind his neck, massaging his knotted muscles and making him utter a sigh, his eyes almost fluttering closed. Then he jerked back.
“It’s not wise, taking this time. Not now. Not yet.”
“Why not?”
He brushed his thumb over her cheek. Her body reacted instantly with a flurry of tingles. She swallowed her sigh as he bent his head to brush his lips over hers. A slow and tender exploration. Her tingles became a roaring blaze. “I’ll fall more in love with you than I am already.”
She leaned closer, her lips a breath away from his. “And is that so terrible?”
“It is for a man terrified of losing you.”
“We can’t live in fear. That’s no way to live. I don’t know how much time I have left but I don’t want to do it running scared. Is that what you learned in battlelord school? To run?”
His face turned hard. “As long as he’s alive, we’ll never be free. He’ll never let us go free.”
“Karbon?”
“Yes. Those were Bolivarr’s words to me. He’s right. If I had killed him when I had the chance, then perhaps we wouldn’t be having this conversation now.”
“Karbon is not in this bedroom. I will not stand for it.” She grabbed his collar, pulling him down to her. “It’s me and you, Aral. No one else.” She gentled her voice. “Show me you feel the same. Show me.” She pulled him down to her mouth, kissing him hard.
His resolve crumbled in the face of her onslaught. Smiling, she left him no escape. Marrying a battlelord had been her greatest nightmare. Sabra had warned her away from the Mawndarrs, telling her that even Aral would mean the death of her. Sabra never knew about their shared glance the day Aral visited Barokk. Wren had otherwise told her guardian everything. Why not that?
Because she’d had so little she could call her own. Aral Mawndarr was hers.
She thought he’d reach for her blouse to undress her, or perhaps lead her to the bed. Instead he caught her around the waist and pressed her close enough to feel the hard contours of his body. The sheer potency of his masculinity was dizzying, and her physical reaction? Immediate. Her skin warmed, and she tingled low in her belly. Holding her gaze, he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing them to the heel of her palm, and then the inside of her wrist. Goosebumps prickled her arms. “Slowly. Gently. It’s your first time.”
“I won’t break. And you’ve already seen my enthusiasm.” She cupped her hands behind his rear and gave him a firm little push just to prove the point.
His pupils dilated, turning his black-gray eyes even darker. The dimple in the center of his jaw deepened as he let out a quiet male laugh that sent delicious shivers all the way to her toes. “In spades.” Another shudder coursed through his body as he pressed her close, one big hand cupping the back of her head. Her sense of smell hadn’t lessened with the return of her vision. His unique scent filled her nostrils, spicy and exotic. On a primal level, she smelled his arousal. And felt it. His kiss was hot, hard with passion as he guided her backward to the bed. A heartbeat later she was lying on top of his powerful body, her knee wedged between his muscular thighs, his hand resting possessively on her back, as if ensuring she didn’t escape.
Hells, she wasn’t going anywhere—not in the midst of this. Madness, she thought, as they threw off their pants and shoes, and everything else not buttoned or tied down.
She soaked in the sensations of his eager exploration of her body, and hers of his. She slid her arms over his shoulders, her head tipping back, trembling for that first feel of him entering her. His hard body trembled, muscles shifting as he fitted himself inside her, ever so slowly joining their bodies. She was so ready that already she could feel her inner muscles contracting, squeezing him. Fates. A pulsing pressure began to build, deep inside her as he moved, so carefully at first then with more passion.
She moved with him, her blood running hot, losing herself in the sensations. “Wren.” He seemed to be clinging to the barest shreds of control. “Slow,” he warned. But by the fates, she couldn’t. It was too late to hold back.
Afraid she might cry out and alarm someone outside in the corridor, she pressed her teeth against Aral’s heaving bare shoulder. He hissed a breath between clenched teeth. Hearing him at the limits of his control both frightened and fascinated her. Skating along the edge with him, urging him on, she felt lightheaded and aroused and a little bit out of control.
Her belly contracted and her hips writhed. He caught her moans with his mouth as she arched her hips, her entire body rocking with pleasure. Then, with his own release still quaking through him, Aral wrapped her in his arms in a way that said she was now finally, inarguably his.
The vengeful battlelord tormented by nightmares and the warlord’s forgotten, freedom-loving daughter—it sounded like a disaster in the making. But it was the best thing that had ever happened to them both.
KAZ FOLLOWED KEIR DOWN to the bay to see Borrowed Time. “You’ve seen better days,” he said, running his good hand over the dented, charred hull.
“You’re one to talk. You’re looking about as banged up as your ship.”
“That’s what I was talking about—not you.” He held up his injured hand. “It was only a graze.”
“A graze?” One of those perfect inky brows of hers rose. “You have a hole right through the center of your hand.”
“Bah. Cosmetic.”
“It’s going to put you out of flying for a while until they knit up those tendons. That’s not cosmetic.”
“Now you struck me in the heart, fair maiden, reminding me I can’t fly.”
“Fair maiden? What happened to doll face?”
“Fair maiden suits you better. Kind of like sexy beast suits me.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Yeah. You’re a fair maiden, all right. The beautiful princess who never wants to be rescued.”
“I don’t need to be. I can take care of myself.”
“It’s not so bad letting someone else do it sometimes.”
Her brows drew together, her mouth pursing as she studied him curiously. He suddenly envisioned kissing away that skepticism, and everything else, including all that high-collared, perfectly tailored clothing she liked to wear—that she looked blasted fine in, but he still had to wonder if she wore anything lacy under those militaryesque outfits. And if she’d mind if he unfastened those lacy underthings with his teeth—right before he proceeded to devour the rest of her as if she was the best flargin thing he’d ever tasted.
He stopped himself before his brain ran any further down that path, or she’d be wondering just why his trousers seemed to be becoming uncomfortably tight. He gave the patched-up fuel tank a once-over. “They got themselves one hells of a mechanic. It’s almost as good as new.” He stopped under the wing, pretending to inspect the leading edge next. “So, I’m thinking out some new ways of doing business. This was but one treasure left behind when the flargin galaxy split up. The same happened all over these worlds. Sister Chara even said so. That stuff’s ended up in private collections, illegal museums, and even on some blasted arrogant loyalist’s yacht. And what about the treasure still where they left it? Riches for the taking.” He rubbed his hands together, then winced and swore.
“Vantos, you should be resting that paw.”
“Yeah, yeah, I will. But let me finish. I say we head out and see what we can find. Sure, the Triad will want it, but we’ll get a percentage of what we recover for our trouble.
“You’re serious.”
“As a shot-up hand. It wouldn’t take long to build up the business, especially if we’re the first ones out there. And it definitely won’t take long to build up our profit.”
“‘We’? ‘Our’?”
He gave her his best grin. Well, it used to work for charming other women. He could tell by the tiny flicker of interest that it did Kaz, too. She just didn’t want to admit weakness. A weakness for him. “I’m proposing to you, Kazara Kaan, for blasted sakes. Do I have to spell it out?”
“Proposing? Proposing what?” All the blood had drained from her face.
“A business arrangement. We hunt treasure and get paid a share of what we find. It’s better money than hauling toilets. And what have you got tying up your schedule now, with Mawndarr all married?” And Bolivarr cozy with his captain, he almost said, but shut his trap seeing Kaz’s hand started to lift to where her earrings used to be. Started to. And didn’t. “Don’t you want to try something new?” Try me? “What do you say? See how we—I mean, the arrangement works out.”
When she looked up at him, it was with interest. “You drive a hard bargain, Vantos.”
“Keir.”
“Keir,” she conceded in her husky voice. Then she shrugged. “Peacetime doesn’t have much use for battlelord seconds. I’ve been looking to start a new chapter in my life. And I liked flying your ship.”
She meant she liked flying with him. But he’d go easy on the vernacular for now.
The rest could be negotiated.
A STAFF MEETING with her senior officers was Hadley’s first order of business after the team had stored all the items recovered from the sanctum, save the urn with Wren’s mother’s ashes and the blessed scripture. Fresh from a tense meeting with Hann, who’d headed up the team of security guards sent to the surface, Bolivarr stormed in a few minutes late. He gave her a glance that assured her he’d taken care of the problem.
“Prime-Admiral Zaafran on incoming screen,” Hadley’s comm officer announced.
“Put it on.”
The prime-admiral appeared, not sitting at his desk as he was in many official announcements, but standing in front of it, his arms folded over his chest.
Uh-oh, she thought. She was in trouble.
“Greetings, sir,” she said.
“I watched the holovis you transmitted, and read your report, Captain.”
The silence roared. Or was that her pulse?
“Congratulations. Your mission has succeeded beyond measure. Beyond anything we—I—could have hoped for. The queen and the prime minister also extend their congratulations for a job well done.”
Relief rippled through her. “Thank you, sir.”
“A job well done, yes. If reckless.” He glared at her, letting the last word sink in. Then he sighed and walked back to his desk. “There has been another attack. This time on Issenda.”
“Issenda!” Goddess. It was the world where Wren’s mother had tried and failed to hide from the warlord.
“They could easily have targeted you,” Zaafran scolded. It hit her that he was possibly more worried than angry. “The attackers were fought off with little loss of life. This time we were lucky. Next time…”
Hadley squared her shoulders. “We’re heading home immediately.” Bolivarr nodded his approval. His thinned mouth broadcast his unease.
“Report to my office upon your return, Captain Keyren.” Under the scrutiny of the miss-nothing blue eyes of the Triad’s top commander, Hadley felt a little smaller. “Yes, sir.”
“And, Captain?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Gods-speed. Get home safe. And without your trademark recklessness.”
Less than a month as captain and her reputation was already firmed up in the worst possible way. She cringed.
“Hadley,” Bolivarr said after the screen went dark. “Aral put down on Issenda for supplies before those so-called terrorists struck. Borrowed Time wasn’t attacked. They were chased away. The only reason the unmarked ship didn’t finish the job was because Issenda was the real target.” Bolivarr held her gaze as he theorized with certainty. “They let Borrowed Time escape because what they wanted was on Issenda. Or so they thought.”
“The key,” she hissed. “The attackers thought she was on Issenda.” A likely place, it made sense. “Terrorists or the resistance?”
“Try Karbon Mawndarr.”
Hadley ground one fist into the other. “If he learns Aral is on this ship, and the warlord’s daughter is, too.” She turned her gaze to his and thought of the vicious beating he’d endured on Junnepekk. “Goddess, you’re in danger, too, Bo.”
He paused midbreath. She cursed herself for letting the pet name slip. “Based on what happened to Aral with that mystery ship, we’re not taking chances being out here where they can find or recognize us. We are officially out of here. To your stations, gentlemen.” As the staff filed out to their positions on the ship, she followed.
“Hadley.”
She shivered. “Don’t do that.”
He reared back. “What?”
“Make your voice all low and rumbly like that. It gives me the tingles.”
His smile turned quite roguish, for Bolivarr. “I like that I still do that to you.”
“Of course you do. You never stopped. That’s why it hurt so much when you put us on hold while you figured out your feelings for me. And, I suppose, Kaz.” She started to leave. Again he stopped her.
“My feelings were never in doubt,” he said. She saw his upset, his fear of losing her in his expressive eyes. Whereas his brother held more of himself in check, Bolivarr let everything show. Including his love for her. “I wanted to make sure I did the right thing.”
“You didn’t have to put me aside to do that,” she whispered. Blasted tears threatened to well up. “I’ve been thinking. I deserve a whole man. Meaning a man who doesn’t take pieces of himself away at will. You’re either with me or you’re not. No in between.”
He ran his hand up her arm. It made her tremble, blast it. “You mean so much to me that I screwed it up. I made a mess of things when it was opposite my intention. Of course you deserve a whole man. It’s why I never felt worthy of you when I had no memory of my past. You’re amazing, Hadley, an incredible woman. I want you to have all of me.” His fingers spread on her back and he forced her closer, his gaze direct and glowing with his feelings for her. “But I want all of you in return.”
“You have all of me.” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed thickly.
“No, I don’t. But if you marry me, I’ll have more than I ever dreamed possible—”
“Marry?”
Her hesitation caused pain in his dark gaze. “If you’ll agree, Hadley, I’ll spend a lifetime convincing you it was the best decision you ever made.”
“You won’t have to.” Her smile was soft, her eyes moist, the most emotion she dared while on the bridge under scrutiny. Inside, however, her heart bounced with joy. “I already know you’re the best decision I ever made. Bolivarr Mawndarr, the answer is yes.” Yes, yes, yes.
The ship’s claxon went off, grating and loud. For a split, naive second, she thought it was in celebration of their moment.
Then, “Target onscreen—gods, I can see them with the naked eye” came over the comm from the bridge and she knew she was very badly mistaken.