“Okay. See you later.” Catherine watched Sean spin and head for his suite at a trot.
Despite the overall situation she allowed herself a smirk. She’d made him blush. A Mercy man, of all things.
Definitely still got it.
* * *
Sean stepped into his suite. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, releasing the sigh he’d been holding in for what it seemed like hours.
He needed a nap.
Right after a cold shower.
That damned woman.
She knew what she was doing, what sort of reaction she’d get from any red-blooded male. Those chocolate-covered fingers at her lips, wet and moist and—
He groaned.
Catherine Rogers wasn’t the problem.
It was his own damned fault. He’d reacted like a bloody rookie, rising to the occasion as if he was a teenager looking at his first dirty picture.
This was ridiculous. He was a trained courtesan and medic. She was a businesswoman not only dealing with death threats but also the stress of being aboard the very type of ship that had destroyed her marriage. The odds that she’d be interested in a man like him had to be astronomical.
He tugged at the front of his jeans, trying to get himself under control. It’d been a long time since he’d done his work in the shower but if that’s what it took—
Someone knocked on his front door.
Sean paused for a second and took a handful of deep breaths like they’d taught him back in Guild training, trying to regain control over his misbehaving body. Answering the door with a hard-on wasn’t very professional.
More so if it were Catherine on the other side.
He opened the door with a last grunt, focusing his mind on anything and anyone other than Catherine Rogers.
Kendra stood there. Her stare moved from his face down to his crotch and back up again.
“Am I interrupting something?” She drawled, looking over his shoulder.
“Kendra.” He spun on one heel and walked back inside the receiving room. “What can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if you felt up to a game of chess.” She followed him to the table, standing opposite him. “I see I got half that sentence right.” The courtesan glanced at the business suite, cocking her head to one side with a questioning look.
He chuckled and lowered his head. “I’m alone. Very much alone.” He resisted the urge to tug at his jeans again.
“How’s Catherine doing?” She sat down at the table and crossed her legs.
“Right now she’s deep in a soap opera marathon. With chocolate.” He didn’t move to join her, hoping she’d pick up on his gentle rebuff and leave.
“A Thousand Nights?” Kendra laughed. “Is there anyone who’s not watching that show?”
“Obviously not. Belle supplied her with plenty of chocolate so I’m sure our passenger will be in a deep sugar coma and dreaming of Diego soon enough.”
His imagination kicked into overdrive at the simple statement, enough to send a flurry of emergency messages to his libido to keep it at bay.
Do not picture Catherine Rogers having an erotic dream. Do not think about what she might do by herself afterward. Do not imagine going to her cabin and volunteering to lend a hand.
He coughed to hide his discomfort. “Best therapy I can think of right now. Keep her mind off of the situation at hand.”
“So to speak.” Kendra watched him as he paced around the table. “And now we wait.”
“And now we wait,” Sean repeated. He scratched the back of his neck.
Kendra could distract him from thinking about Catherine. For a good part of the day if he needed.
It was taking all of his willpower not to rush to Catherine’s cabin and take her up on the offer for the viewing marathon. To sit with a woman without watching the clock, without any expectation of sex—it reminded him of the time before he’d come on board the Bonnie Belle.
He missed that.
There were women on the Belle, Kendra for one. He’d seen couples form like Bianca and Halley, but he’d never wanted that sort of emotional entanglement, to see someone he cared for service other men and women.
Catherine Rogers was as sharp a businesswoman as any he’d seen. She was also a sensual creature, a woman who deserved to love and be loved.
Maybe he was where he was supposed to be. As she was.
Both aboard the Bonnie Belle.
Except he was a Mercy man.
And she wasn’t looking to pay for his services.
Kendra cleared her throat and brought him out of his reverie.
“I think I’m in the mood for a game of Go,” he said.
Kendra stood up and eyed him. “It’ll take a good number of hours. Are you ready for that sort of commitment?” There was a note of caution in her voice. “I’m not in a mood to have you walk out halfway. Bianca is on my shit list for leaving ten minutes into a game because she found it boring.”
“Ouch.” He’d never have the nerve to do that. Bianca must have been leveraging her grieving to the extreme to leave in the middle of a game.
Kendra watched him, a curious look on her face. “Unless you have something better to do, that is.”
“Nothing I can think of.” He smiled and gestured at the door. “I could use a good beating right now, I think.”
She snickered and followed his lead.
* * *
Catherine gave up ten hours into the marathon. The plotlines were getting even more tangled and she still hadn’t figured out what Monica had done wrong, never mind who the heck this Marcus was and how he fit into the story.
And she was in pain. Enough to distract her from the soap opera, and it had to be pretty bad to do that.
She stood naked in front of the full-length mirror and inspected her burns. The pink skin wasn’t as neon and vibrant. The gel was working, but this still felt like the worst sunburn of her life.
Catherine rotated her shoulders, feeling the now-familiar pinch between her shoulder blades.
She could probably get along without another dose of the numbing gel.
She just wasn’t sure if she wanted to.
* * *
“Thank you.” Kendra leaned back in her chair and surveyed the Go board.
“Thanks for what?” Sean laughed. He swept his hand over the checkered squares. “You annihilated me again.”
“Yes, but this time you saw a few of my traps and avoided them.” The courtesan reached out with one finely manicured fingernail. “Here, here and here. True, you lost, but it’s your best game to date.”
Sean nodded, accepting the rarely given praise. “Thank you. I needed this.”
Kendra crossed her legs. “May I assume this has something to do with our newest arrival?” She pursed her lips before he could answer. “And no, I don’t mean Harry.”
Sean knew there was no use in trying to lie. “She’s a complicated woman.”
“As are we all.”
“I—I like her.”
Kendra nodded. “Understandable. You’re a good man.”
“I think she likes me.”
“And this is a bad thing?”
“Yes,” Sean said. “I’m a Mercy man. Her husband walked off with a Mercy woman. She’s not supposed to like us.”
Kendra shook her head. “She likes us. She just doesn’t know how to classify us.” She reached down and picked up a black stone. “In her world it’s all business or all pleasure. She goes to cocktail parties and charity events not to enjoy them but to network and get ahead of the men in her field. She doesn’t go out for fun and if she does it’s as far away from work as she can get. Finding and marrying another businessman must have seemed to her to be the best of both worl
ds, combining both and getting the best of.”
“Then he went astray,” Sean said.
“Big time. And destroyed her professional and personal reputation.” Kendra picked up a white stone with her other hand. “And now she’s about to do it herself with this lawsuit. There’s no shelter, no safe place for her to fall. No business associates to lean on and no one in her personal life to trust. Not now, not after her ship blew up.”
Sean nodded. He’d learned over time to not interrupt Kendra when she was on a roll.
“Now she’s here. The best and the worst place for her.” She put the two stones into her palm and rolled them together. “You want to comfort her, protect her. Because that’s what you do best.”
“Yes.” He wasn’t even going to try and lie. “But I don’t want to make things worse.”
“For her or for you?” The question hung in the air between them.
Sean chewed on his bottom lip.
“Excuse me for interrupting,” Belle’s voice murmured.
Kendra glanced upwards. “I didn’t give you permission to access this room.”
“No and I apologize. But Ms. Rogers is requesting Sean’s presence. It seems she’s in some pain and needs his attention,” Belle continued. “According to the captain’s directions I am supposed to help her in every way possible, including obtaining medical assistance for her.”
“Understood.” Sean got to his feet. “Thanks for the game.”
“Sean,” Kendra said. “Be careful with her. She doesn’t need more pain.”
He flashed back to the garden on Vegas Four. “Neither do I,” he replied.
* * *
Catherine opened the door, wearing a white robe she’d found in Kendra’s pile.
Sean clutched the medical bag to his chest. “Are you okay? Belle said—”
“I’ve got a headache and I’d like another application of that gel if possible.” She shuffled her bare feet on the rug. “Too much Diego for me.”
Sean chuckled. “I thought I’d never hear someone say that.” He gestured toward the bedroom. “Please.”
Catherine paused, suddenly shy. When she’d imagined this scenario earlier it’d been less awkward, less uncomfortable. She was, after all, only asking for assistance from the ship’s medic.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Sean opened his satchel. “I can leave the ointment for you—”
“No.” She cleared her throat. “I still have some stiffness in my shoulders. I wouldn’t be able to do it properly and I can’t afford to do a haphazard job on something this important.”
She still didn’t move.
Sean stayed silent.
“Right. Yes. Let’s do this.” Catherine forced herself to move toward the bedroom. She could hear Sean behind her, the scent of his aftershave drifting over her. Goosebumps rose on her skin at the familiar smell.
She moved to the bed and sat down again, keeping her robe closed.
“First let’s give you something for the headache.” Sean pulled out a small bottle of pills and popped it open. He shook out two tablets and handed it to her along with the glass of water she’d been nursing on the side table. “It’ll take the edge off. But no more Diego for a few hours, okay?”
She nodded as she took the pills and swallowed them. The water was lukewarm but she forced them down and handed the empty glass back.
He didn’t say a word, just waited.
She undid the belt of her robe and slid the soft fabric off her shoulders to let it bunch around her waist. She felt comfortable enough to expose herself to him this time, to allow him to see her fully.
It felt—right.
Sean knelt down by her left side and studied her knee, his eyes glued to the damaged areas.
“It’s looking excellent,” he announced as he looked up at her. “I don’t think you’ll even have a scar.”
“Good.” The throbbing behind her eyes was dimming. She sighed in relief. “Not that it’s my biggest worry right now but—”
“But nothing.” Sean opened the tube and began to apply the gel to her leg. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to look beautiful.”
His fingers moved in slow, gentle circles, brushing over both marked and unmarked skin. She sighed, pleasurable tremors running through her body. “Thank you. That definitely takes away the pain.”
Sean smiled. “That’s the whole point of it. How are your shoulders?”
She rolled the right one with little effort but grimaced as she attempted to do the same with her left.
“Not as bad as before. Good. Between banging around in that life pod and the burns I’m glad you’re healing as fast as you are.” He moved up her side to her arm, just as he’d done before.
“Not much there to see,” Catherine joked as she looked down at her exposed breast. She’d never thought of herself as being shortchanged in that area but for some reason she couldn’t stay silent.
Sean kept his attention on her arm, stroking the medication along the burned areas. “Bigger is not always better.” He raised an eyebrow. “Not that I’m talking about myself, mind you.”
She couldn’t hold back a chuckle at that one.
Catherine relaxed, leaning into his touch. She shouldn’t feel this way, comforted and slightly aroused, but the cool cream and the firm strokes of his hand were lulling her into sleep.
“So you think Diego is ever going to come to his senses?” Sean whispered as he climbed on the bed behind her.
He moved her arm back and forth, kneading the muscles where there hadn’t been any burn damage.
“I think he needs to decide where he wants to go with Monica.” Catherine closed her eyes, drowning in the sensual strokes and touches. “Damned man. Always thinking too much.”
Sean chuckled from behind her. “That’s us. Always thinking too much and with the wrong head.” He came to a stop with one last lingering caress at the base of her neck. “You should rest now. Any problems, call Belle and she’ll help you right out.”
“Hmm.” Catherine didn’t move as he slid off the bed to stand in front of her. He pulled the robe up over her shoulders and tied the belt in a loose bow.
She felt him scoop her up in his arms, careful not to jostle her too much.
“Sleep now,” he whispered as he stretched her out on the bed. “We’ll talk later.”
Something brushed her cheek.
He kissed me.
The Mercy man kissed me.
Catherine slipped into a deep sleep, unsure whether she’d hallucinated the kiss or not.
Chapter Seven
Diego wandered into the bedroom and paused by the side of the bed. His long blonde hair fell over his shoulders and into his partially open white long-sleeved shirt. The tight black leather pants stuck to his skin so tightly she could see every muscle twitch.
Catherine smiled from her spot on the bed, appreciating the view. If she had to dream under the drugs at least she’d have good ones.
“Mon Dieu,” he exhaled as he looked around. “A Mercy ship? Sacre bleu, what have you done to end up here?”
“I’m safe,” she murmured. “I’m good.”
“Here?” He sat on the edge of the mattress and flipped his hair back before giving her a dazzling smile. “There was a time you would have paid good money to have all of these ships blown to bits.”
Catherine flinched. Figures her hallucinations would be truthful to a fault.
“But now they are your salvation. How things change, hmm?” He gave her a dazzling smile, perfect teeth almost blinding her. “Sometimes it’s hard to know what we want until it shows up at the front door, unasked for.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
He smiled, stood up and backed out of the
room with a flourish of his arm.
Suddenly she was in the life pod spinning end over end in space, disoriented and confused and wondering why or who or what had done this to her. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, encased in a coffin that would never be found—
“What—” She woke gasping for air, momentarily paralyzed.
“Are you ill?”
Catherine forced herself to move, floundering around in the bed for a frantic second of panic, searching for the intruder before realizing it was Belle.
“Ms. Rogers?” The AI repeated. “Are you in need of assistance?”
“No, no.” She coughed as she scrubbed her face with her hands. “I had a bad dream.” She swallowed hard, fighting to slow her heart down.
It took all of her energy to undress and climb into the shower to wash the sweat from her skin. The ointment had done its job well.
It came as more of a surprise when she looked at the clock while drying off with another pristine white towel, thoughtfully warmed up by the AI.
“Belle, is that the right time?” She gaped at the white digital numbers.
“Affirmative.”
“I fell asleep for—” She tapped her fingers together, not trusting her mind to make the simple calculation. “Eighteen hours? After watching the shows?”
“Yes.” Belle sounded almost cheerful. “It has been my experience most people needing healing greatly benefit from a long period of inactivity. You needed the rest so I let you sleep.” Her tone shifted to a maternal one. “If I’d sensed you were in any danger I would have called for assistance.”
Catherine made a mental note to place a wake-up call in the future. Suddenly she’d been on the Belle for over a day and it’d felt like no time at all. It was hard to imagine staying on this ship for weeks, months or years without losing track of time.
Maybe it was what the Guild wanted but she couldn’t live that way.
She wouldn’t live that way.
She put on another T-shirt, this one pale blue, along with the jeans Kendra had brought over.
The sweaty track suit went down the laundry chute.
Strangely enough she wasn’t hungry. She’d only had a light breakfast on the yacht and then cookies and chocolate, but now it was at least a day later and her stomach wasn’t even growling.
In the Void Page 9
