“Adria! I didn’t see you around the end cap.” The wall immediately bent to her. “Here. Let me help you up.” As soon as Beck’s fingers curled around her upper arms, a sharp order rang out.
“Release her, human.”
They both looked up at Tarus who glowered down at them from his imposing height.
“I’m all right,” she insisted. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Neither was he,” her guard accused as he rudely shouldered the other man aside and assisted her himself. “You could have been injured.”
“I’m fine.” Climbing gingerly to her feet, she didn’t mention her tender behind or the expectation of having bruises before tomorrow. Under her breath, she said in an aside to Tarus, “It was an accident, and you’re being impolite to Mr. Kincaid.”
Having four inches on Beck, the warrior straightened to his full height and gave him a thorough perusal. Adria came close to rolling her eyes at his obvious posturing.
“You’re the human in charge of building the colony,” he stated brusquely.
“This is true,” he answered, appearing amused by his scrutiny rather than offended. “Do I pass muster?”
“I don’t know what that means, but I wasn’t expecting you to be so large, considering you are human.”
“Tarus!” Adria gasped, shocked by his comment that sounded more like an insult than an observation. Either way, she was offended on his behalf.
Beck shrugged it off. “At six foot eight, I am an anomaly where I come from. Some men are taller there, but not many.” He bent and replaced her groceries in her basket. When he stood, he was holding a dented can of tomato juice—an Earth delicacy she couldn’t get enough of—and a flattened red bag. “Sadly, not all of your items survived the collision.” He shook the bag. “These in particular; they’re broken into bits.”
The spicy crunchy snack, on par with tomato juice on her list of favorites, was the last thing she’d picked up, and purely on impulse. Beck swapped it for another bag on the nearby shelf.
“Oh, but won’t the merchant be upset if I put the damaged one back? It was hardly his fault I dropped it.”
“I’ll tell Pete what happened when I check out. He won’t mind. Our government subsidized the contractors as an enticement to set up shop here. That means he gets paid no matter what.”
“Are you operating under enticement, too?”
“We all are. It was the only way any of us could afford to travel across the galaxy and start a colony from scratch. But that doesn’t mean we don’t want to be here. Things at home are dire, and Terra Nova is our only hope for survival. Still, being one of the first to settle on a new world contains risks. I find it both exciting and historic, and wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”
Tarus took the items from Beck, and urged her along. “We must get going. I have other duties.”
“Yes. You mentioned that several times,” she muttered, glaring at the surly warrior. She felt sorry for the unfortunate female who got matched with him. Maybe it was better if he put it off indefinitely. “If you have more important things to do, I can get home by myself.”
“Absolutely not. The general made it clear he didn’t want you walking around town on your own, especially after dark.”
“My brother is being his usual overprotective self.” She glanced out the large front window. “Besides, it’s still light outside. I’ll be fine, just like this morning when I got to work on my own without incident.”
“What happened to your coworker? I thought you went to work in the mornings with her?”
Whoops. She hadn’t meant to let that slip. “Gina wasn’t feeling well and didn’t go in.”
“You should have alerted me.”
“I think, like Trask, you’re all overreacting.”
“What you think doesn’t matter; the general’s orders do.”
Beck fearlessly ventured into the argument. “I’ll see her home if you have things to do.”
Tarus’ irritated glare swung to him. “I don’t think so. How do I know I can trust you?”
“Tarus!” she snapped. “I doubt my brother’s orders included insulting a fellow member of the joint council.”
“A fellow no longer,” he advised curtly. “The general won’t return until the trouble in his household is settled. Until then, Remus and I will take his place.”
“Trouble? What kind of trouble?”
His face tightened, and his cheeks darkened. With his deep-bronze skin tone, it was hard to tell, but she thought he might be blushing. He’d disclosed something he shouldn’t have, evidently.
She pressed her advantage. “It involves Lana, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” he admitted reluctantly. “But she suffered no ill effects from the fire.”
“Fire!” she gasped. “Maker help her, she was in a fire?”
When he remained stubbornly silent, Beck chimed in again. “You spilled the beans, man. Now you’re going to have to tell all and ease her mind, or you’ll never hear the end of it. I recognize the signs.”
Her glower encompassed both men.
Tarus sighed. “The general rescued her before she was burned, and though the smoke inhalation was excessive, Jarlan has released her from his care, something he wouldn’t have done if she were still suffering any ill effects. I know nothing more.”
“Let’s go,” she insisted, grabbing his arm to getting him started. “We’ll swing by the shuttle port on the way home. I can relay-message my brother from there and ensure everything is all right.”
“I just said it was, didn’t I?” he ground out between clenched teeth. “I have duties, you’ll recall.”
“Then go do them,” she bit out as she released him. “Beck has offered to see me home.” She turned to him. “Do you have anywhere to be? Is a side trip to the port too much of an imposition?”
“It is for me, and you seemed not to mind!” Tarus grumbled in protest.
“Perhaps because, unlike you, he wasn’t ordered to play watchdog,” Adria snapped.
“I can see you to both, darlin’. I have no plans, tonight.”
“Which means you’re off the hook, warrior.” To Beck, she said in a much kinder tone, “Let me pay for my purchases, and we’ll go.”
“I have not agreed to this,” Tarus growled.
Adria threw up her hands. “By the Maker, you’re exasperating! Mr. Kincaid is a highly respected man, for pity’s sake. He is in charge of practically everything and everyone on the colony. He owns the construction yard, and half the humans here answer to him.”
The young man’s violet eyes shifted to Beck, and he repeated his slow perusal.
“I can be trusted to keep her safe,” he told him, his deep voice calm and reassuring. “While not a warrior of your caliber, I am proficient with my fists when there is reason to be.”
His gaze narrowed thoughtfully, as though something suddenly occurred to him, then his suspicion faded. “You won’t mention where you heard about the fire?”
“Not unless Trask comes out and asks me. I won’t lie to him.”
“Of course not. For me to even suggest that you do would be dishonorable,” he returned, as surly and bristly as before. “You may go with him.” Rather than leaving, he took a step closer to Beck. “I’m holding you responsible if she doesn’t arrive home in the same condition she is now, Mr. Kincaid.”
Adria groaned. “Maker give me strength.”
Beck didn’t bat an eye. “I’ll take excellent care of her. You can count on it.”
“This is ridiculous,” she muttered as she stalked toward the counter to pay. “It’s broad daylight. I’m an adult woman, not a toddler who needs someone to hold her hand while she walks three blocks, so she doesn’t get lost.”
AN HOUR LATER, AFTER seeing and hearing from both Trask and Lana via communication relay that everything was fine, she walked home with Beck at her side.
“Trask looked happy,” she observed as the elev
ator opened onto the fourth floor.
“Lana did, too, and much better than when she left.”
She glanced at him before starting down the corridor to #417. “How do you mean?”
“She had a glow about her I’ve never seen before, and a sparkle in her eyes.”
“Did you notice the change in color? She’s transformed again.”
“I saw, although I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to it.”
“I’m having a hard time getting used to mates who transform then change back, only to transform again. But as Jarlan keeps saying, the only thing we know for sure about Primarian-human mate bonding is to expect the unexpected.”
At her apartment, she rested her thumb on the scanner. When the lock clicked, she pushed the door open. Before going inside, she glanced up at him. “Would you like something cool to drink before facing the heat again?”
“I’d like that.”
The lights came on automatically as she entered, the ones in the kitchen turning on as she crossed to the chiller—what the humans called a fridge—and opened it. “I have the tomato juice I just bought, which is warm, or a bottle of soda. It’s been open a few days, so I can’t vouch for it still being fizzy. Or, there is water.” She looked at him over her shoulder. “I also have coffee, but I’m not sure how the machine works.”
“I’m strictly a morning coffee drinker, no worries.”
She nodded as she peered inside the cooling unit once again. “Oh. I forgot about the pitcher of fruit punch. Though it doesn’t taste like any fruit I’ve ever had before, and since it’s made by adding a flavor mix to water, I doubt there is actually any in it. But I find it tasty. It comes in another flavor—ice blue-raspberry lemonade—but I’d have to prepare it.”
“That sounds like Kool-Aid!”
The edge of excitement in his voice drew her gaze to his.
“Yes, Lana left it—”
“I’ll take a glass of that. If it’s the tropical punch I’m thinking of, I haven’t had it since I was a kid.”
Adria took the pitcher from the refrigerator, grabbed two glasses, and joined him at the table. He held up the red bag of chips. “Did you have dinner plans? Or will junk food suffice?”
“Junk food?”
“Yup. That’s what we call high-calorie low-nutrient foods you eat solely for pleasure.”
“Like your Cinnabon?”
He leaned back in his chair and gaped at her. “That’s sacrilege. Cinnabon is life.”
Seeing the utterly affronted expression on his face, she grinned. “I’m up for junk food, but eventually, I’ll have to go back to eating fruits and vegetables, or my escorts will have to roll me home from the clinic after work.”
“I doubt that,” he commented as he opened the Doritos. “I’ve yet to see an overweight Primarian.”
“I did mention the fruits and vegetables, didn’t I? They are a mainstay in our diet, as are plenty of grains and lean meats. Junk food doesn’t exist in our vocabulary or in our world.”
“How sad for you.” He held out a chip for her. “Get ready to have your world rocked.”
Smiling, Adria snatched it out of his fingers and shoved the entire thing in her mouth, chewing happily. “I’ve already been rocked,” she acknowledged while crunching. “I love these things.”
He grinned. “Better than Cinnabon?”
“You can’t compare the two. Both are in a class all their own and are to be dead from.”
His smile faded, and he stared for a moment. “Do you mean to die for?”
She waved her hand, muttering, “Whatever,” then reached for the bag and another chip.
Beck tossed his head and let out a peal of laughter. The wondrous sound filled her small kitchen, so warm and rich, she stopped mid-chew to take it in. Much too soon, it ceased. But he wasn’t done making her heart stutter step. Oh no, not Beckett Kincaid. Next, he reached across the table and slid the bag from her fingers then popped a chip in his mouth. The muscles in his jaw and throat worked as he slowly chewed then swallowed. The handsome devil even made the act of eating sensual, especially when he took another and licked his orange-stained fingers clean one at a time.
This human male was so compelling, his appeal so potent, no decadent sweet treat or addictive snack chip could compare. Doritos and Cinnabon weren’t to die for, Beck Kincaid was, and, if she wasn’t careful, she’d fall for him hard. The same way her heart plummeted to the pit of her quivering stomach when, with his disarming grin and stunning ice-blue gaze aimed her way, he offered her the Doritos bag, and winked at her.
Chapter Three
Night had fallen, and, with it, a stillness settled over the town. As Adria walked along the sidewalk, newly poured only yesterday, her hard-soled boots made an occasional scuffing noise on the concrete. Otherwise, it was silent, almost eerily so.
Unlike a typical evening in Ariad, no one was out enjoying an after-dinner stroll. Strains of music from an outdoor concert in the park didn’t fill the air. She inhaled and couldn’t detect the delicious aromas of roasted nuts or fresh-baked fruit tarts, Primaria’s version of junk food, despite what she’d told Beck. No street vendors lined the walkways, hoping to tempt residents as they made their way home from visiting friends or after taking in one of the many social events the town offered.
Such was a nightly occurrence in the city she called home. Nothing close to that existed here; the colony was too new.
They referred to it as a town, but it barely qualified as one. Except for the main road, the streets weren’t much more than hardpacked dirt. On the rare occasion when it rained, usually a deluge, it washed away the smattering of gravel on top and turned the roads into rivers of mud. Other than the two at the construction yard, they didn’t even have street lights. If the moon hadn’t been full and sitting high in the sky, she wouldn’t have dared to venture out. She’d treated too many sprained ankles from men trying to traverse the rut-ridden thoroughfares at night.
The warriors described this, their former hunting planet, as uninhabitable, overrun with trees and vegetation, crawling with slimy, slithering, scary creatures, most of which came out after dark. The colony had come a long way in under an annum.
Just as that thought crossed her mind, the moonlight dimmed.
She looked up at the sky and saw clouds rolling in. Adria sighed. They could use the rain to cool things off, but it promised more mud was on the way. With nothing to do, no friends to visit or family to call upon, and too restless to go to bed and sleep, she had ventured out to walk off some of her nervous energy. Now she had to worry about getting drenched.
Perhaps she should turn back.
As she approached the corner of Main Street and Terra Nova Boulevard—just last week, someone with a creative hand had put up painted wooden signs dubbing them so –Adria heard a shout and the thudding boots of someone running. She stopped, hoping whoever it was would go right on by, but the next moment, a shadowy figure made the turn. He wasn’t overly big, but he was solid. When he slammed into her, he was both the immovable object and the unstoppable force, just like with Beck at the grocery store. She reeled backward, arms flailing, trying to grab hold of anything to keep from falling on her still-tender behind.
One hand connected painfully with the rough, unyielding bricks of the building beside her. The other came up with a fistful of his shirt. It was all that kept her on her feet.
“Is something wrong?” She steadied herself. “I heard shouts.”
“You were mistaken,” the man replied stiltedly.
“You’re out of breath. Are you hurt? I work at the clinic. If you’re injured, I can help.”
“I was in a rush, nothing more.”
Adria peered around the corner, unconvinced. She knew what she’d heard. The moon came out from behind the clouds, illuminating the empty side street. She glanced at the man, and though there wasn’t enough light to make out the color of his eyes, his attire—work shirt, jeans, heavy boots—and the fact the top of hi
s head barely reached her nose, declared he wasn’t a warrior.
“You’re not human,” he stated abruptly. “None of the Earth’s people have eyes that color.”
Adria blinked, surprised by his keen night vision and the odd way he referred to his own kind.
“You’re correct. I’m Primarian. As I mentioned, I work at the clinic. I’m a physic-in-training there.”
He stared at her a moment, not bothering to apologize for nearly body slamming her onto the ground, then, without a word, he moved away.
Since she still gripped his shirt, Adria was forced to let go.
Once released, he brushed past her.
Irked by his rudeness, she was glad for the darkness that hid her glare as she watched him go. “Humans can be so very odd,” she muttered after a moment.
Shrugging off the rather strange encounter, she rounded the corner onto Main, which would take her home. At the next block, she slowed. A bright flashing sign and music drew her attention to the Watering Hole across the way, an establishment the residents called a bar.
She stopped completely when two men came out. Laughing uproariously and hanging onto one another, they staggered into the street. Suddenly, one of the men lurched forward and fell on the ground in a heap. He spewed several words her translator couldn’t decipher, except for damn rut. His friend, who’d been smart enough to let him go, thought it hilarious and laughed harder and louder. He eventually hauled the downed man to his feet, and, together, they zigzagged down the street—one with a distinct limp—in the direction she was headed, the singles residence hall.
“Why would they drink to excess at such a place only to have to find their way home afterward completely intoxicated?”
“Stupidity mostly. But a drink after work with friends is a common social activity where we’re from. Don’t you have bars or pubs in your world?”
Bound by Fate Page 5
