“Trask is an honorable man.”
“It’s more than that, Lana, trust me. Because he’s also staring at me like he’s contemplating the best way to separate my head from my shoulders if I don’t quit touching you.”
She twisted, looking at him where he stood, no more than five feet behind her. His patience ended, he outstretched his hand to her. “We have things to do before we depart for home, mate.”
When Kincaid released her, Lana’s arms fell away. He didn’t wait for her to come to him, he immediately moved up behind her, slid his hand around her waist, and drew her back against him.
“General, I’ve been playing the protector role these past few months. I now bequeath those duties to you.”
“Thank you for looking out for her, Mr. Kincaid. I’ve been in those shoes and am well aware she doesn’t always make it easy.”
“Excuse me. You two know I can hear you, don’t you?”
Her saucy remark earned a chuckle from Beck and a warning squeeze from Trask.
The human extended his hand, a gesture the two worlds had in common. He took it but slid his higher, clasping his wrist firmly in the Primarian manner which showed camaraderie and respect.
“You’ll take care of our girl, won’t you, General?”
“Don’t ever doubt it; you have my word.”
He nodded, and his gaze went to Lana again. “I should go. I’m losing my best painter and need to get right on recruiting another.”
Her soft laugh rippled in the air. “You’re confusing me with someone else; I’m your messiest painter, remember? Take care of yourself, Beck.”
“You, too, darlin’. And since I have faith you’ll soon be cleared of these bogus charges, maybe you can come back for the ribbon cutting and dedication of the courthouse and town hall.”
“I’d like that.”
Kincaid’s eyes rose one last time and locked with his for a three-count before he walked away.
“He’s an interesting man.” This observation came from Adria who had joined them at some point.
“He is and one of the best men I’ve ever known.”
“And he is large for a human, quite handsome, with the most unusual blue eyes.”
“Adria,” Trask drawled. “You have studies to attend to, and you live three days away by space flight.”
“What? I can’t admire a man’s extraordinary eyes.”
“A second ago they were unusual, which is it?”
“Both, what does it matter?”
Lana gave her an assessing look. “You’d like him if you got to know him.”
“No!” His denial rang out along with his sister’s.
She stiffened as though offended on her friend’s behalf. “But you’d be perfect for him.”
“I’m not interested in a mate,” Adria said flatly.
Lana rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “I was thinking more along the lines of meeting for a cinnamon roll and a chat, not an instantaneous proposal.”
“Please,” he groaned, shuddering at the thought of his youngest sister mated, let alone to a human on another planet. “Let me resolve an issue with one troublesome charge before I must deal with another.”
“Trask!” they both said in unison.
He took Lana’s hand while he glanced at his sibling. “We leave in three hours. Wait at the clinic until I come to get you.”
“Dr. Juna is delayed, and with the injured still coming in for follow-up treatment, I am needed here.”
“You could stay at my apartment,” Lana proposed.
Adria look expectantly at Trask. “An excellent solution, don’t you think, brother?”
“I don’t know. I won’t be here; who will look out for you?”
“I’m not a child. I can look after myself.”
“No, this isn’t Primaria, Adri.”
“We could ask Beck—”
He cut off his mate’s suggestion, one of many, with a firm, “No.”
“Why? We just established he is a good man.”
“Who my sister finds attractive, so that isn’t happening.” With the crowd thinning, he guided both women to the exit. “I’ll assign one of my warriors as a guard.”
“Is that really necessary?” Adria protested.
“If you want to remain here, yes. No further arguments.”
“Yes, brother,” she muttered.
When he paused at the door to let the women precede him, he caught the wide-eyed look his mate gave his sister.
“I see he’s bossy and overprotective with more than just a mate,” she observed under her breath, but not under enough for him not to hear.
“You have no idea,” Adria grumbled.
Lana’s eyes shot to his. Upon seeing the challenging look aimed her way, she quickly corrected his sister. “I think I have a pretty good one.”
His lips twitched as he shook his head and did some muttering of his own. “Females.”
ESCORTED TO A SHUTTLE, then to a stateroom aboard the Reliant, the man at her side remained stoic and silent. He left her with a muttered, “We’ll talk later.”
His definition of later was broader than her own because she didn’t see him the rest of the day.
At lunchtime, a silent warrior escorted her to the dining room. She sat alone, picking at her food, fully aware of the condemning stares and angry glares of those around her. She didn’t stay long, and when another noncommunicative warrior arrived at dinner time, she declined and remained in her quarters.
Alone and feeling sorry for herself, she went to bed, although sleep escaped her, and she tossed and turned for hours. Sometime during the night, she fell into an exhausted sleep because she awakened to the daytime lights the next morning. She sat up, twisted, and stared sadly at the bed beside her, untouched.
“So much for mates in every way.” She flopped back onto her pillows, her arms across her face, blocking out the light.
Sometime later, an hour, perhaps two—she didn’t know, nor did she care—someone entered the outer room, but they didn’t stay. She smelled food but didn’t get up. With no appetite, what was the point? Instead, she lay on her side and stared at the wall, thinking exile to Earth may have been better than this or, at least, not as lonely.
“Are you ill?”
Her whole body jerked in surprise, and she rolled onto her back. Trask was standing inside the open door, his shoulder propped against the wall, his features composed, apparently unfazed about this new path their lives had taken while she was tied up in knots.
“It’s not polite to sneak up on someone.”
“I didn’t sneak; I walked. I also asked you a question. Are you unwell?”
“No, why?” she asked him.
“You haven’t eaten anything brought to you for the last three meals, and you had practically nothing in the dining hall yesterday. Do you need the physic?”
She rolled again, her back to him “Don’t bother. There isn’t anything wrong. You can go back to pretending I don’t exist.”
Footsteps thudded on the floor. “I know you exist. I’ve tried forgetting you did for a year but couldn’t. I stayed away for fear you would have a resurgence of your aversion sickness. I thought the loss of appetite might be due to me.”
“You probably should have let them ship me home, Trask.”
“I considered it, but I can’t. I’d rather have you close where I can watch over you and keep you safe, than wondering your fate on some crumbling planet galaxies away from here. It sounds selfish, but there you have it.”
She rolled back to find him standing next to the bed, towering over her. “Why didn’t you move on? In all this time, you should have taken another mate.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and picked up a lock of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “How could I, when you haunt me? You were my mate, and I’ve never been able to stop thinking of you that way.”
She closed her eyes, swallowing hard as she fought back her tears, her heart aching.
His hand moved to cup her cheek, his touch light and so very welcome. Although she tried hard to resist the urge, she couldn’t and turned her face into the caress, nuzzling her cheek in his palm. A whimper of longing broke unbidden from her lips.
What followed happened fast and instinctively. His fingers threaded through her hair and slid around to cradle the back of her head. She reached for him, her hands curling around his biceps as he pulled her toward him. His head came down as hers moved up, his open mouth covering her parted lips. Then, like a flash-fire, their bodies ignited with passion. While their tongues swirled and tangled, and they moaned their need down one another’s throat, their fingers tore the other’s clothes off.
Trask moved on top of her, and she didn’t hesitate to open her thighs.
“By the Maker, I have missed you,” he growled as he curled a hand behind her knee, bent her leg, and hooked it over his hip. He was inside her the next moment, sinking into her copious wetness. He cried out hoarsely, and her breathless moans rose in the air as they started to move. Rolling his hips, he plunged, again and again, as she arched into him. Taking what he gave her while offering all she had to give, it went fast, becoming explosive as she came with a scream of unadulterated bliss the likes of which she’d never expected to find again. Trask followed in seconds, growling his pleasure into the side of her neck as he splashed hot and deep inside her.
Chest heaving and skin damp with sweat, they clung to one another in the aftermath. His weight pressed her into the bed while her skin tingled wherever he touched both inside and out.
He rose onto his forearms. “Forgive me for using one of your vulgar Earth phrases, but the situation seems to warrant it.”
“What?” she asked, dazedly.
“You are so full of shit.”
She blinked up at him. “Pardon me?”
“You don’t want me...” His tone was heavily sarcastic. “You want to go home, to your people, and your career?” One brow arched as he went on to state succinctly and quite crudely, “What a load of shit.”
Uncomfortable with not only his antagonizing words, but the flicker of anger in his eyes, she tried to move out from underneath him, a near impossible feat.
“You’re ticked off,” she accused while shoving at his shoulder. “What was this? Angry, revenge sex?”
“The sex was because my body has craved you ceaselessly for far too many torturous days. That I’m infuriated you did this to us is irrelevant.”
“Trask, maybe we shouldn’t have—”
“Shut up.”
Her mouth gaped open. He’d never spoken to her this way, and she didn’t like it one bit. “Don’t tell me to shut up!”
“I will, repeatedly, whenever you are about to spew ridiculous drivel about how we aren’t mates, or how you don’t want me, and why we don’t belong together. The dissolution is nullified; you saw the decree when we arrived, signed by Kerr who is your leader now. It’s done and will not be undone. You are mine, Lana. You vowed no going back, no running, and I refuse to accept any more of your bullshit about it.”
“You’re wearing out that particular vulgar Earth term pretty darn quick, don’t you think, General?”
His face darkened as he scowled down at her. “I don’t recall you being this impertinent before.”
“And I don’t recall you having such a foul mouth or being such a jerk.”
“In the year apart, I imagine we’ve changed in many ways.” His eyes searched hers a moment before they trailed down her face to her chest, which had reduced a whole cup size less than before. With her weight loss, the fullness of her breasts was the first thing to go. “Some of which I intend to fix.”
She squirmed beneath him, shoving at his shoulders. “Let me up.”
“No.” He caught her hands and pinned them to the bed on either side of her head. Gazing down at her, his glorious eyes as changeable as ever, were bluer than green now, and dark with desire. His lips had softened, parting slightly as his tongue came out to wet them. All signs of his anger were gone, replaced by desire as he shifted his hips. He was hard inside her again—or was it still?
“We should talk,” she suggested.
“I’m done talking. It only serves to piss me off. We communicate better in other ways.”
She frowned. “How many of these vulgar Earth terms have you picked up?”
“Shut up and kiss me, mate.”
“That’s another one. Well, not so much vulgar, but rude.”
“Lana?” His voice dipped to a husky growl, stirring the hunger in her body once more.
“Yes?” she answered in a whisper.
“Stop talking, mate, so I can fuck you. How’s that for a vulgar Earth term?”
She swallowed hard as his tongue licked the fullness of her lower lip. As he began to thrust, his incredible cock gliding out then sinking slowly and deliciously back in, filling and stretching her as only Trask ever had, her resistance melted away, and she answered raggedly, “Okay.”
Chapter Sixteen
PRIMARIA, ONE WEEK later...
As Lana predicted, news of the explosion spread faster than light speed across space from the colony to Primaria. Rumors were flying around Ariad about her involvement and how the General had stepped in to save her by reclaiming her as his mate. And while deemed a romantic gesture by many, with the North Mine explosion fresh in the minds of the citizens, and with the full story unclear and all responsible still unknown, they were on edge. Trask didn’t think it safe for her to be unguarded, and he didn’t want her leaving home without him. Therefore, with suspicion surrounding her and two active investigations still ongoing, she was confined to the house by Trask’s decree and the Princep’s recommendation.
Bored out of her mind, Lana wandered the spacious house alone. A prisoner, though she hadn’t been convicted of a crime. And while he worked, she had nothing to do. Not even mundane housework to pass the time since he had every gadget available through Primarian technology to do it for him. The communication devices didn’t recognize her handprint and voice commands any longer, so she couldn’t contact her friends to beg a visit and relieve her of this brain-numbing monotony. Hell, if she wanted a cup of simulated coffee—which was a far cry from the real thing, but coffee beans didn’t exist on Primaria—then she was out of luck because the beverage dispenser was tied to the household management program.
Trask hadn’t left her like this on purpose. He’d been called away before getting the chance to give her access. Before that, they’d been busy having sex—lots of it. So much so, she was tender in places she’d forgotten she had—something not altogether unpleasant, since it reminded her of him and was something to think about at least while she paced the long upstairs corridor.
It had only been hours. What would it be like if they couldn’t solve the mine mysteries and her sentence under house arrest extended into days, weeks, or heaven forbid, months? The answer came to her quickly—she’d lose it. Being confined to a spaceship had been difficult, but at least they made frequent stops and, as part of the landing team, she’d gotten to explore and dig in the dirt, collecting samples.
“That’s it!” she declared to the empty hallway. “I’ll work in the garden.”
She whirled and headed for the stairs as eager as a kid on Christmas at the prospect of a new toy. Her excitement faded halfway down the flight when she noted something was missing from the entryway. The fuchsia and purple-leafed white bark tree which she had lovingly tended and brought back to life in the few short weeks she’d lived here before was gone. Its place was empty; the artisan-sculpted, hand-painted pot she’d scoured the street market to find—gone. She twisted and looked back at the landing at the top of the stairs. The four-foot high bonsai tree—what she called it for lack of a better name because it looked remarkably like those on Earth—wasn’t in its place, either.
Lana rushed down the stairs and made her way toward the back of the residence, noting as she went, other plants had disappeared, in
cluding the yellow palm in the kitchen which had been there when she initially arrived. Had he neglected to water them? Or, had he gotten rid of them because they were a bitter reminder of her?
Fearing it was the latter, she raced out the back door and into the courtyard. As she crossed the flagstone patio, she lurched forward, falling to her hands and knees when she tripped over something in her path. She didn’t look back to see what it was, nor did she respond when the warrior guard at the back gate inquired in a shout if she was injured. She could only stare at the place where her garden had once been.
The three crimson bushes with the satiny petals that resembled roses should have been in full bloom by now. Eva had promised with the year-round rainfall and temperate climate they needed very little tending. They wouldn’t have been a bother to Trask, so there wasn’t any reason to get rid of them. But they were gone, as were the fruits and vegetables she’d planted, leeks, rhubarb, and two raspberry bushes—all perennials which would have come back year after year without effort. There was nothing but grass where her garden had been. If she hadn’t dug it herself, she wouldn’t have been able to tell it was ever there because there wasn’t a hint of a bump or a dip, as if someone wanted all reminders of what had once been there, obliterated.
Sorrow gripped her insides at further proof of what she’d done to him by leaving.
Her palms burned, but not nearly as much as her eyes as they pooled with tears. She scrambled to her feet and rushed for the door before she fell apart, but she collided hard with the guard who stood as silent as a statue behind her.
“Excuse me,” she whispered, trying to circle him.
He caught her arm. “You’re hurt. I’ll notify the general and summon a physic.”
She shook her head, her voice raspy from the fiery rawness in her throat when she insisted, “I’m fine.”
“But you’re crying. I’ll send a transmission to your mate now.”
“Please don’t—” She wiped beneath her eyes before she glanced up at the guard. “I’m sorry. I forgot your name.”
Defying the General (Primarian Mates Book 4) Page 30
