"That's because you take such good care of us," she teased gently.
That was the simple truth. Not only did he bring all his women here to shop, he had helped Haassea secure the loan to open this place.
"She's not your usual type, Logan." Her searching gaze belied her soft voice.
He shrugged. "Perhaps it was time for a change."
"Hmm. Don't change too much. We'd miss you."
He gave her a look. "You, perhaps. Not sure your husband would."
She gave him back look for look. "Traay knows you and I have a long history. And that I would never give you up."
"He may have come from wealth, but he's still a man, Haassea."
She merely smiled, in serene acceptance that she was worth her husband's possessiveness.
Stark smiled back. "I'll see you and Traay at the Port Commissioner's Ball."
She smiled."Really? Good. Last year's ball was a very … satisfying affair."
"I remember." The Ball might have a respectable title, but the elite of New Seattle knew better. Held at the city's largest casino, it was an evening of unbridled revelry for the influential and wealthy, a celebration of another year survived in a harsh world. Stark had attended with a woman whose name he couldn't even recall.
"Perhaps we can have dinner together," Haassea suggested.
Stark nodded. "We will."
Stark's comlink chimed, and he raised his brows. "And now, if you'll excuse me, that will be business."
"Of course," Haassea said easily. "I'll leave you to it."
She swept out, and Stark opened the hololink. It was from his executive assistant, reminding him of a routine cyber-meeting that afternoon. Stark thanked her and brought up the galactic web.
He could have gone to LodeStar headquarters at the space port, or back to the office in his penthouse, and had Giles deliver Kiri when she was done here, but he preferred to wait. He wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't bolt, he admitted wryly to himself as he sipped the strong, hot coffee.
He spent some time going through the reports of the last day. The oasis resort on Serpentia was progressing well. Pirates had been sighted near Creed's mining operation on Frontiera, but thanks to the new sat-com system, Creed and his security people knew and would keep them at bay. Like Logan, he hired the best and paid them well.
Stark hadn't checked in for a few days with the captain of the Orion, the flagship of his new space cruise line. After the recent barrage of deadly sabotage attempts on her, everyone in LodeStar Corporation was on their guard.
He used his comlink to signal her.
Captain Steve Craig answered immediately. His head and broad shoulders, silver gray flight suit crowned with the bars and stars of his office, filled the holovid screen, backed by the Orion's command deck and two crewmen working quietly. Close-cropped hair shone silver-blond in the lights. His eyes, under heavy brows, were piercing light blue. He smiled a greeting. "Logan, good to see you."
"Hello, Steve, how are you?"
"Very well. A quiet flight so far." They exchanged a look of hard-won satisfaction. Orion's first four voyages had been fraught with danger, to the point that Stark and his crew commanders wondered if LodeStar would have to abandon the cruise line.
"We had a bit of a problem at launch," Craig went on. "Two stowaways, but that was easily dealt with. They're in IGSF custody now."
"Really?" Stark frowned. "That's a new one. With all our surveillance equipment, how did they think they'd remain undiscovered?"
"They'll try anything, I guess. They were in shipping containers, with an air supply to last until we were underway. The interesting thing is, they're both ex-soldiers, fighting men, who claim they have no idea how they ended up on the ship."
"I'll want to hear the reports after the IGSF has questioned them," Stark said. "Anything else?"
"No. These settlers are a good lot, focused on getting to their new home."
"Not a party crowd?"
"Oh, the lounges are doing a brisk business, but we're selling more ale than anything else, and the dances are more likely to be group jigs than a tango."
Orion, her crew and three hundred twenty-two passengers, mainly Earth II working-class folk looking for opportunity, were bound for Frontiera. The verdant, Earth-like planet had only recently been discovered by the Alliance planets. Home to a few nomadic tribes as well as small groups of settled beings in her tropical regions, the planet was ripe for conquest. Pangaeans, Serpentians and humans were racing to stake claims on her. So were space pirates.
Stark and a consortium of business partners were making sure they captured their share of available land and business opportunities. They'd just finished installing a system that blanketed the planet in satellite communications, making it light-years more difficult for pirates to isolate and pillage remote outposts as they'd been in the habit of doing.
"You'll be picking up some additional passengers on Bryght, I see."
"Yes." Craig grinned. "Commander Panthar has convinced several of his ex-IGSF mates to emigrate with him."
"Well, Bryght's a small planet," Stark mused. "Only room for so many Tygers."
"They do need plenty of space to roam, especially when their mating moons are on the rise."
They both chuckled. On Orion's maiden flight, she'd been held up by customs on Earth II. By the time she approached planet Bryght, days later than scheduled, her Tyger navigator Tryon Jag had been drawn helplessly into the influence of his mating moons. He'd morphed into a dangerous half-man, half-cat, terrifying most of the crew and demanding a mate.
He'd gotten one and managed to save his ship from being dashed on the dangerous asteroids of the Cattarus system, but Jag's company, which still held the navigation contract for LodeStar, now maintained backup navigators as a failsafe, on Stark's demand.
If, as Stark suspected, Kiri te Nawa had Tyger blood, his wild ride with her was only beginning.
"How's Tessa?" Stark asked. "Is she with you on this flight?"
Craig's face softened at the mention of his lovely half-Serpentian bride, a member of the ship's guard. "She's well, thank you. We're going to spend a few days on Frontiera, take a look around while we're there."
"Ah. If you make it out to New Haven, look up Stone Masterson and his wife. Business partner of mine—he'd be glad to host you and Tessa."
"Thank you. We may do that. Don't you have a brother near there as well?" Craig asked.
"Creed has a mining claim in a valley a few clicks from Adamant. Something of a loner. I'm his silent partner."
Craig nodded in comprehension. Frontiera was a good place for beings who preferred solitude.
"I've another brother on planet, as well," Stark added. "Joran lives with one of the nomadic tribes." He led one, actually, but that information was not to be shared. Nor was their unique method of making a living.
Something, a change in the atmosphere of the small room, a certain look of surprise and dawning admiration in Craig's expression made Stark turn his head.
Kiri stood a short distance behind him. She had her head tipped down, regarding him through her dark lashes, her full lips pursed in a bashful smile.
Her rounded hips and slender, curving legs were showcased in a pair of fitted tights of dull gold, her upper body in a tank of the same shade that appeared to be spun loosely of blossoms and spider webs, her skin shimmering through the weave. The only thing that prevented the ensemble from being unfit for other eyes than his was the tiny soft sweater hugging her shoulders, arms and breasts, falling short of her slender waist. It was the pale hue of blush rose petals. She wore a matching pair of flats.
"Later, sir," said Craig behind him.
"Yes," said Stark without looking away from her. "Thank you, Captain."
Rising, Stark crossed the room to Kiri. He crooked one finger underneath her chin and tipped up her head to admire her. They'd cut her hair. Instead of waving wildly, it cupped her well-shaped head and framed her face in dark, silky tendrils, exposing th
e lower part of her shell-like ears. He'd buy her earrings, he thought absently, to go with that jeweled collar he planned.
He gazed down into her face. The same, but enhanced with subtle cosmetics, her eyes glowing in their dark lashes and smoky shadows. Her moist, plump lips bore a coating of rosy gloss that made them somehow more intimate, like another, private part of her.
She looked refreshed. The pampering had done her good.
Her winged brows rose. "Well? You're staring at me as if I've grown a third eye or something."
Stark chuckled, amusement and arousal blending in a heady mix. "Like an Occulan? No. You are … luminescent." He set his hands on her hips, enjoying the feel of her through the thin, soft fabric.
"Like a pearl?"
It was his turn to arch an inquiring brow.
She chuckled, a husky, sound that cracked in the middle. "Haassea said I must 'glow like a pearl in the oyster of your signature gray'. I certainly hope you think I do, because she insisted that I couldn't walk out of here without at least two ensembles and a wrap. There are bags of things." She widened her eyes at him, miming consternation. "She just kept adding things."
Stark pulled her closer, inhaling her scent. Just a hint of some sweet, sensual fragrance that made him want to bury his nose in the curve of her throat and chase it to the source. Haassea had chosen well.
"I told her to go on adding things. I particularly want to see what you chose to wear to bed."
She gave him a look that indicated she was worried about his sanity. "Logan, you have an entire closet full of women's nightwear at your place."
Ah, yes, she'd mentioned there were a few things in the room he kept for female guests. "Saving my credit for me?" He lifted one of her hands to kiss the inside of her wrist.
She watched, her lips parting. Not used to the more refined caresses, evidently. Good, he'd know how to keep her off-balance. He preferred her that way.
"Hmm?" she murmured, finally. "Well, yes, of course. Wouldn't want you to waste credit." She gave him a guileless look, and he had to bite back a chuckle.
"You don't have to worry about the cost of things, little cat. While I appreciate your care for my credit, it isn't necessary."
"Of course it's necessary," she began.
The door of the room opened, and he looked up with a scowl, ready to speak sharply to whoever had interrupted them.
But it was Haassea's prime assistant, Slidi, a slim redheaded Serpentian with full breasts and a smile that was surprisingly sweet for a Serpentian.
"Oh, Mr. Stark," she said, stopping in the doorway. "I'm so sorry to interrupt."
Since her eyes were wide with contrition, he nodded politely. "That's all right. We were just going."
"Of course. Haassea is with another client. I—I have a gift for you, sir." The young woman held out a small package, wrapped in shimmering ribbon. She handed it to Stark with a smile. "Your favorite chocolate."
He bowed. "Thank you."
She dimpled. "My pleasure. I've scheduled Ms. te Nawa for a full spa day tomorrow, if that's convenient."
"It will be," he assured her.
Chapter 11
Kiri glared at the Serpentian's back. She had not liked the way the woman looked at Stark, as if she wanted to slither all over him and devour him.
But, she was the one leaving with him. She walked with Logan out to the docking bay, followed by two young men laden with bags. She settled back in the chair beside him with a groan, her eyes closing.
"I feel as if I'll wake up any moment now, back in my coffee stand, or my apartment."
"About your coffee stand," he said. "I'd like to call in an employment agency, find you some help."
She opened her eyes, instantly wary. "What? I run that stand—it's mine. And I don't have time for any spa day tomorrow. Thanks for the haircut and clothes, but that's more than enough. I could do a lot of other things with the amount of credit you just spent on me."
So she did want credit. He'd want details on that, later. "Kiri's Kaffe is going to be overrun with gawkers and gossip runners the next several days. Let me find you someone else to handle that for you. Then when curiosity has worn off, you can return."
"I run my business," she insisted.
Ignoring Opal, who sat quietly on the other side of the cabin, Stark flipped up the armrests between them, took Kiri's hand and tugged her across the smooth leather. He wanted her close where he could hold her hand in his and admire the silky texture of her skin and hair, even catch more of her intriguing scent.
"You'll need an assistant eventually anyway."
"Why?"
He smiled at the suspicious look in her golden eyes. Was she imagining him stealing her tiny business, or simply demanding her sexual favors day and night? Not a bad idea, actually. For example, right now he'd very much enjoy having her remove that little top so he could admire her pearly skin through the loose weave of her camisole. Then he'd pull her onto his lap and peel those leggings off. His cock hardened at the notion of having her here.
But his little cat wasn't ready. She shifted uneasily, her rounded thighs pressing together. "I'm not abandoning all I've worked for to be your plaything. I can do both."
He looked up into her eyes. He saw suspicion, but he also saw arousal there and in the pout of those soft, slick lips. "Of course you won't abandon your business, which is why you need help. I travel a great deal, and I can't work around your schedule. While you're with me, you'll have to work around mine."
Then he slipped his arm around her, pulling her close so he could tip up her chin with his other hand. He bent his head to nuzzle her temple, inhaling her fragrance, enjoying the silky hair and skin brushing his nose and face.
"I can't think when you do that," she muttered, leaning against him. Possessiveness surged as she turned into his touch, not away. One day soon, he would have her here, in this seat.
"Good. Don't think." With a swift, decisive movement, he pulled her up across his thighs. Then he tipped his head to one side and kissed her. Her moist lips parted under his, and he delved into the peppery sweetness of her mouth. He flicked his tongue inside. To his supreme delight, her hand tightened on his arm, and she sucked on the tip of his tongue.
When he lifted his head, they were both breathing hard, and Opal had discreetly disappeared.
Kiri stroked her hand over his chest and under the edge of his open jacket, her eyes heavy. "You do that ... well," she said. It sounded more like a complaint than a compliment.
He smiled, enjoying the feel of her in his arms and the knowledge that she would be there frequently from now on. "Do I? Perhaps you inspire me."
"Perhaps you've had too much practice," she shot back. When he stilled, she flushed, her gaze skittering away.
"I meant at getting your own way," she said quickly, pushing herself away. "What you've done in the past—with other women—is certainly none of my affair."
"No." He let her go, knowing it wasn't wise to hold her when he was angry. "Nor is what you've done any of mine. But while you're with me, there will be no other men, or women, unless I say so. Are we clear on that?"
She plopped into the seat across from him, disgruntled as a cat that had been stroked the wrong way. "Are you sure about this?" she opened her hands, gesturing vaguely. "This whatever it is you envision between us?"
"A liaison," he put in smoothly.
"Oh, very high-class term for fucking," she shot back and then blushed, her gaze falling away from his as he raised his brows at her. "And that's just what I mean. You're used to ... expensive females who know how to dress and—and undress. I'm just a barista. I don't want to expect more if you're going to get tired of me in three days."
"House calls your bluff."
She stared at him. "What?"
He raised an eyebrow at her. "I can see your markers, Ms. te Nawa, and they don't match your bet. You're trying to color yourself as a poor slummer, when in fact you were raised as a lady."
She drew her
knees up on the seat and wrapped her arms around them, eyeing him suspiciously over her knees. "How do you know that?"
He smiled. She didn't trouble to deny it, at least. "I've had several meals and sex with you. That was more than enough. When you're not losing your temper like a Tyger kitten, you've lovely manners."
She scowled. If she had a tail, it would be lashing. Interesting, that she wished to hide her gentle upbringing. Was she a runaway, either from autocratic parents or an abusive partner?
"Listen, where I live it doesn't pay to put on a show. I may not be a slummer, but neither am I a courtesan."
She'd find he was a bit harder than that to throw off track. He smiled at her. "Kitten, if I want a courtesan, I know where to find one. Everything I wish you to know about my sexual preferences, I will very much enjoy teaching you."
Her golden eyes widened. He had no doubt that if they were anywhere but in midair, she'd bolt. And that he'd run her down. He was as aroused and edgy as a wild male beast himself. Oh, no, she wasn't getting away.
"I've a business to run, remember."
"So train an employee." Great God beyond. He was ready to flashbomb her coffee stand himself, just to get her mind off of it.
Perhaps he'd punish her just a bit for making him wait. The thought of her luscious ass reddened from his hard palm amused him, allowed him to watch her frown with renewed equanimity. Later, when she'd lost that fragile look, as if one harsh word or loud noise would have her clawing at the hull to escape.
"I don't know if I want someone else running my stand. And how am I going to pay them? I barely have enough credit to buy next week's coffee. And yes, I know it's my own fault. Sometimes I take foolish chances." The look she gave him from under her lashes left no doubt that she considered him one of them.
Logan laid one arm across the back of her empty chair. He sighed. "I'll compromise. You may have a week to train someone. And because I've insisted you hire someone, I'll pay their wages." And later he'd move her shop to a safer, more lucrative location.
Her eyes widened. She smoothed her hands over her knees. "Okay."
Nebula Nights: Love Among The Stars Page 85
