Lunar Heat: 1 (The Heat Series)

by Susan Kearney

  Two dimples appearing in his cheeks, Cade grinned at the sight of her eggplant-colored toenail polish. “Pretty.”

  “This may hurt.” Betraying none of her uncertainty over the procedure, Shara slowly applied tension, tugging on his wrist and implementing pressure with her foot against his ribs to cause the necessary separation between his shoulder and the socket.

  Cade stared at her toes. Then he jerked up his head, his mouth twisting into a gasp of agony. “Ow. That hurts.”

  “Sorry.” She kept right on tugging.

  Cade grunted, his arm stiffened. His entire body tensed and bowed. But he didn’t pull away.

  Something in his joint moved. Very slowly, she lessened the pressure. His former grimace relaxed noticeably. When she finished, she noted his good hand had slipped into hers, and his trust warmed her and curled in her stomach. “How do you feel?”

  Silliness splashed across his face. “Kiss me again.”

  Again? “We’ve never kissed.” She attempted to draw back her hand.

  He didn’t release his grip, his thumb making tiny caressing circles on her skin, causing goose bumps to rise up her forearm all the way to her neck. “You fished me out of the water and kissed me back to life. I tasted the salt on your lips.”

  But he’d been unconscious.

  Shara didn’t have to be a doctor to recognize that Cade’s physical reactions were all wrong. First he’d survived a fall from space without sustaining one broken bone and apparently no internal injuries beyond the dislocated shoulder. Next, he’d recalled events from when he’d been unconscious, and last, she’d never seen anyone who had gotten drunk that fast.

  He also didn’t know things he should have. Like about her past. Or the asteroid. Or that alcohol could dull pain.

  In addition, his flight suit was composed of a very strange material. She could have sworn when he’d been in the water that the sleeves had covered his arms down to his gloved hands, but now the material was short, hugging impressive biceps.

  Shara really could use a drink. She stared at the open Chivas. Licked her bottom lip.

  He tugged her closer, and she told herself that she didn’t want to risk hurting his shoulder by resisting. She sat beside him, close enough to inhale the scotch on his breath that taunted her, tempted her. If she kissed him, she’d taste the delicious liquor on his lips.

  Stop it.

  She straightened her spine. “How’s your shoulder? Will you let me fix a sling?”

  “So pretty.” He curled a finger around a lock of her hair. His tone was singsong but pleasant and musical and very powerfully male. But his eyes narrowed, tensed, and she could see him considering whether to trust her. “Do whatever you want with me.”

  Sheesh. One little drink, and Space-Force dude had turned into Lover Boy. Except, the effects of alcohol shouldn’t turn on and off like a switch. He was so inconsistent—one moment dangerous, then protective—that she couldn’t get a read on him. And he hadn’t answered her questions, claiming his mission was classified.

  Wary, confused that she found him so intriguing, she disentangled her hand, then her hair, and opened the first-aid kit.

  Cade raised his head. Catching her by surprise, he brushed back a loose lock from her eyes. He mumbled a soft, edgy growl, “Thanks for making the pain go away.”

  She didn’t know why, but his words made her feel good. “You’re welcome.”

  His eyes held hers, almost as if once again he knew exactly what he was saying.

  She’d seen a lot of drunks, and none of them got wasted as fast as he had. None of them recovered as quickly or then relapsed without more alcohol. It was almost as if his system worked at superhuman speed—his body, his mind, his emotions.

  She dug through the first-aid kit, putting aside ointment, bandages, scissors. Shara shook out a sling and adjusted the neck strap to the roomiest setting. “This should make you feel better.”

  “I don’t need—”

  “Don’t argue.” She slipped the material over his head, bent his arm, and placed it into the sling.

  “You don’t understand. I’m a fast healer.”

  “I’m sure you are but—” The roar of a spaceship cut off her words. A roar so loud it sounded as if the craft was about to crash into the asteroid.

  Tilting her head to search the night sky, she saw hellish sparks. Flames. Smoke. Fear coursed through her, and her pulse spiked.

  Surely two different people couldn’t crash into her asteroid on the same day?

  Her porch shook as if sprayed with hail that punched large holes in the deck. Dust from the eaves rained down, and her eyes teared.

  What the hell was going on?

  Cade grabbed her shoulders, tucked her against his chest. A strong, hard chest. “Get down. We’re under attack.”

  3

  Damn it! Cade swore this time would be different.

  This time he wouldn’t end up in chains. And no way would he allow the SOB to hurt this woman who’d tended a stranger with such strength and tenderness.

  Cade plucked Shara from her chair, yanked her against his bare chest, dropped, and rolled away from the laser fire that sprayed the wood and kicked up splinters. Terrified that Shara would be burned or vaporized, he gathered his strength and flung her toward the safety of her home.

  “Get inside,” Cade ordered, worry tearing through his veins.

  On hands and knees, she scrambled through the doorway. Cade grabbed the first-aid kit, dived, and rolled after her, furious that Jamar had put her in danger.

  Even as Cade beat back the last of his alcoholic haze, he shoved the first-aid kit into her arms and kicked the door shut behind them. Moving with a burst of quickness, Cade stood, flicked off the lights, gripped her shoulders, and positioned her between him and the exterior wall.

  He couldn’t stop a direct laser hit from killing them, but he could shield her from flying glass and burning debris. The larger-than-life, gutsy woman wedged against him was shorter than he’d thought. And softer.

  Realizing he held her too tightly, that with his larger body pressed against hers, shielding her, that she couldn’t move, could barely breathe, he eased back a bit. But not before her feminine scent wrapped around him like an exotic dream.

  Actually the reality of Shara Weston was better than any dream. Not just because she was stunning with her long golden hair and searching eyes. Not just because she’d saved his life. And patched up his shoulder. The lady had attitude, class, brains. Although she might not know his identity, she’d let kindness temper her natural instinct to be wary.

  She’d make a good ally—if they lived that long.

  Shara placed her palms against his chest and pushed. “I’ve got a laser gun in the bedroom.”

  He didn’t budge. She had no idea what they were up against. “Will your weapon shoot down a spaceship?”

  “Huh?” She gazed up at him with a sea of confusion in her beautiful turquoise eyes.

  “Those laser bursts came through the roof. Jamar fired them from space.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Jamar?”

  “The pilot who shot me down. Thank the stars he doesn’t have a lock on us.” He tightened his grip on her shoulders, dreading the moment Jamar caught up with him. “You’re in danger because of me. But I won’t let him get you.”

  He didn’t yet know how he would save her. Over the years, he’d never found a way to defeat his brother. Hadn’t even found a way to strike back. But he’d never stopped trying—even as he’d paid a terrible price for those failures. But this time, somehow he must find a way to succeed.

  She glanced at the singed ceiling. “My wood-shingled roof won’t protect us.”

  A second short blast, different than the vibrating roar of the spaceship, shook her house and rattled the glass. She yelped. “What was that?”

  Stunned and elated at the sound, Cade grinned.

  At his mercurial mood change, Shara frowned. “You think this is funny?”

  �
�This is a miracle.” Jamar had finally made a mistake. “I . . . can . . . barely believe it.”

  “What?”

  Cade relaxed his grip. As much as he liked holding her, he forced himself to step back. But he couldn’t stop his grin from widening in excitement. “We’re going to live.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  This never happened. Jamar’s powers didn’t allow for failure. And yet, something had finally gone in Cade’s favor. “That was the sound of a fuel ejection.”

  She scowled at him. “So?”

  “So, we’re safe. At least for now.”

  “I don’t understand.” She pointed a finger and pressed it into his chest. “One moment this Jamar is shooting at us, and the next you are grinning like a lunatic and telling me everything’s okay. Well, it’s not okay. What the hell’s going on?”

  Even as a punch of relief hit his gut, he noted how cute she looked in her anger. Shara Weston was different from any woman he’d known. Smart, self-sufficient, and sexy, she also had uncommon good sense. And she looked at him differently than other women who knew he wasn’t a First—as if his opinion mattered.

  “Answer me.”

  He could barely take in that for the first time ever, his brother had failed. Something had been out of his control. And Cade would take what he could get.

  He did his best to reassure her. “Jamar will have to leave immediately.”

  She fisted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Why?”

  “That sound meant he had a ship’s emergency—although malfunctions are rare. Something happened. Something that caused fuel ejection.” Whoever had been responsible would pay in blood and flesh.

  “And?” she prodded.

  “Now that’s he’s short on fuel, if he doesn’t want to crash, he’ll have to leave and refuel.”

  “How do you—”

  “Shh. Listen.”

  She cocked her head. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Exactly. If he’d landed anywhere on this asteroid, we’ve have heard the sonic boom. He’s gone.” Cade couldn’t believe their good luck. Not that he wasn’t due some. But he’d never known Jamar to be careless. He planned with meticulous attention to detail. He never made mistakes.

  “So he’s really gone?” Her voice trembled slightly.

  Now that she was no longer shouting at him, he guessed she was realizing how close they’d come to dying.

  But even as he stepped forward, compelled to reassure her, she retreated until her back again pressed against the wall.

  Wishing she was back in his arms, he dropped his arms to his sides. “As I said, he’s gone for now. Although Jamar never gives up, he won’t return until he refuels.”

  She slid down the wall until her butt hit the floor, and she drew her knees against her chest. “That attack seemed like a scene on a holovid set. But it wasn’t.” Eyes wide with shock, she took in the laser burns on her floor and shivered. “We almost died.”

  “We’re still here,” he tried to comfort her with a soft, soothing tone, but she wasn’t buying it.

  “He’ll return because he wants you dead. Right?”

  He sprawled beside her. She was trembling, and he placed an arm over her shoulder, drew her against his side. She was so cold, tiny goose bumps dotted her skin, and for a moment, she melted into his heat.

  Stars. She was in his arms. Her scent minty and salty. Her skin was so smooth, so soft. Her combination of vulnerability and strength was bringing out his protective instincts. As she turned to look at him, he yearned to lower his head and kiss the color back into her face.

  Their lips were only inches apart. He shot her a smile deliberately laced with pure heat. “Next time,” Cade told her, “we’ll be ready for him.”

  Although how he would fulfill that promise he had no idea. How did one fight a superior opponent, one who was smarter, stronger, faster? Cade clenched and unclenched the fist by his side.

  “We’ll be ready for him?” Shara tensed and threw his words back in his face. “I don’t think so.”

  Thrown off center by her sudden switch from melting fear to stiff anger, he took a long, deep breath. “We can—”

  “There is no we.” She glared at him, jerked away from his embrace, and scrambled to her feet. “You may have saved me from the lasers, but I saved you from the sea. As far as I’m concerned, we’re even. Done. I want you gone before you get me killed.”

  “You don’t—”

  “Mean that? Absolutely. Helping you out while you were injured and not getting me killed was one thing. This attack is another. This is my home, but he’s after you. If you weren’t here, then I’d be safe.”

  “I’m afraid not.” Cade shook his head, stood, and peered out the window. When the sky remained clear, he flicked the lights back on.

  “Then tell me what’s going on.” She stood, raising her chin to let him see the determination in her eyes.

  “Look, I want to tell you more, but—”

  “Don’t you dare tell me it’s classified.” She glared at him. “I almost died, and I have a right to know why my house was strafed by laser fire and why I’m no longer safe.”

  He went silent and still for a taut moment. She was right. But how did he explain the brutality of Jamar? The sacrifices his people had made to send him here? The justness of his cause?

  Yet, if he wanted her help, she needed to know the truth. “I agree.”

  “Wow.” She pursed her lips. “I didn’t expect you to give in. You’ll really tell me what’s going on?”

  4

  Cade raked a hand through his hair. “Jamar wants to destroy your asteroid.”

  If Shara had been frightened before, terror choked her now. For a moment she wanted to fling herself back into the comfort of Cade’s arms. Because either the Space Force had developed some extraordinary classified weapons or . . .

  Cade paced, his steps reminding her of a caged panther, all lethal grace and ready to pounce. “It would be best if you’d sell me this asteroid and leave immediately.”

  While her nerves might not have quite settled enough to hold his gaze, no way was she selling her home. “I’ve already told you, Haven is not for sale.”

  “I’ll settle for a lease.” He removed his arm from the sling and stepped closer. “And I’ll try to keep you alive.”

  She ignored the steely promise in his tone, the determined heat in his eyes, and the way her heart skipped a beat. “This Jamar—how can he destroy my asteroid? No one outside the military has that kind of fire power.”

  Cade hesitated and spoke slowly, as if choosing his words with the utmost care. “We have sophisticated weapons.”

  She arched a brow. “Who is ‘we’?”

  “This is the classified part.”

  Earlier, when he’d told her he’d explain, unexpected warmth had curled in her core. But she’d never expected him to admit what he said next. “We come from Rama.”

  “Where the hell is Rama?”

  “What I’m about to tell you must be kept confidential.”

  A shiver of ice spiked down her spine and into her gut, but she kept her tone calm. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s no one else here but us.” She refrained from mentioning her vidlink or the supply ship that stopped by at irregular intervals.

  “Rama is another planet.”

  “Wrong. Do I look that gullible? Every child learns the names of the planets in our solar system, and Rama isn’t one of them.”

  “I’m not from your solar system.”

  “Uh-huh.” Alarmed, she edged away from him. Apparently, he’d suffered more injuries than she’d guessed. The fall had scrambled his brain, or he’d been delusional from the start. Either diagnosis was bad news for her.

  He picked up a heavy glass sculpture from an end table and began to do arm curls with his previously injured arm. He made the motion as if he gave it no thought. As if he were completing some sort of autopilot physical therapy routine. “I cam
e here to build a portal between our worlds.”

  “A portal?” She blinked, her thoughts spinning. She’d almost died on her front porch, and now he wanted her to focus on the most impossible of scenarios. Sure, man had made it out to the planets in Earth’s solar system. But while they had yet to venture to other stars, which were light years away, they had found no evidence of other intelligent life anywhere in this solar system. Made the odds pretty slim someone from another star system would land on her asteroid.

  “Travel from Rama to Earth by spaceship takes too long. After I build a portal, travel will be instantaneous.”

  “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” But as he continued to perform arm curls, his biceps tightening, she noticed that the arm wasn’t trembling. He wasn’t straining. His face wasn’t tensing with each curl. Could he really be healing this quickly?

  Could he be . . . alien?

  Facts sank in. Alien anatomy would explain his living through that fall. And alien anatomy would explain how fast his arm had healed. And his odd reaction to alcohol.

  He reached out and fingered the collar of her robe. “Think of space as this cloth. To travel from the hem to the collar would take many light-years. But if I folded the robe, the span between two points would shorten. When space folds, portals can narrow the distances between star systems.”

  “You’re saying you can create wormholes?” Oh my. He really had quite the imagination. Although spaceships regularly traveled from Earth to the space station and then to their solar system’s other planets and moons, they used naturally-formed wormholes. No one had ever made one.

  She glared at him, angry with herself that she’d found him intriguing. “You aren’t pitching me some insane science-fiction holovid script, are you? Because I won’t attach myself to your script or recommend your work to my clients . . . so you’re wasting your time trying to sell—”

  “On Rama”—Cade’s eyes narrowed at the challenge in hers—”my people are slaves.”

  “Slaves?” she rasped out, noting the dark shadows in his eyes that made her want to soothe him.