He took her hand and absently ran his thumb over her fingers. “You don’t steal people’s memories.”
“No, but we lock them up for the rest of their lives, and some are innocent.” She knew that well enough; it had almost happened to her. If not for her agent and manager and the funds to buy an excellent defense attorney, she might have given up.
He squeezed her hand lightly. “The abundance of salt on Earth will prevent many injustices on my world.”
“Have you had contact with other intelligent beings besides us?” she asked, hoping that maybe she could divert him to another world, one where Jamar wouldn’t find him. A world where she wouldn’t have to stop him.
Holding his hand didn’t seem like a big thing, but the skin-to-skin connection made resisting his story more difficult. She shoved her doubts to the back of her consciousness. There was nothing wrong with giving comfort. Not if she were careful.
Cade pulled himself together, but his voice remained tight and controlled. “There’s been no contact in Rama’s recent history, but there are ancient legends about beings who seeded the galaxy with their DNA. They built ancient pyramids and runways for their spacecraft out of stone. I believe you have ruins like that on Earth, too.”
She recalled the pyramids of Egypt and Peru. No one knew who had built those ancient edifices. “You’re saying that our people are related?”
“It’s possible. But we’ve evolved differently. Obviously. Our need for salt is a fundamental biological difference. If I’m going to be successful, I have to gather together my equipment for building the portal.”
He had equipment with him? That was bad news. She’d assumed he’d have to build from scratch and had counted on it taking years. “You arrived with nothing. What do you mean, gather your equipment?”
“I ejected the cargo.” He shook his head, dashing her hopes that the equipment had disintegrated with his ship. “The parts broke into several smaller pieces, and their automatic boosters sent them to safe spots.”
“Safe spots?”
“Uninhabited areas.”
“The solar system’s a big place.” She took back her hand and happily spread jam over her toast, then bit into the corner. “You could search for a lifetime and never find—”
“I’ll build a locator device to pick up the booster signals. Any well-stocked hardware store should have the requisite parts.”
“Too bad I don’t have a hardware store handy.”
“We’ll find one. We should leave Haven early tomorrow morning, before Jamar returns.”
On that they agreed. She hadn’t forgotten the shots Jamar had fired at them. That alone made Cade’s story very real.
“You’ve got a bit of jam on your lip.” He picked up a napkin, angled toward her. When he cupped her chin with one hand and dabbed at her mouth with the napkin, her pulse skidded.
His thumb slid over her lip, his touch a warm, tender sizzle. She had the urge to nip at him and taste his flesh. Barely, just barely, she restrained herself.
Where he touched her chin, his hand felt like a silken caress. His scent, so male and clean as sunshine, held her in an exotic grip. He hovered over her, so big, so gentle, so tender.
There was no mistaking the flare of desire in his eyes. His nearness made her skin tighten all over. Made things low in her body clench with need. Her nipples tightened, and dampness blossomed between her thighs.
Locking gazes, he ever so slowly dipped his head toward her. She swallowed hard. He was going to kiss her.
Oh my, goodness. What scared her right down to the bone was that she desperately wanted to feel his lips on hers.
Acting more in panic than coherent thought, she whispered, “Don’t.”
Immediately, he stopped.
He dropped a mask over his expression. His voice turned formal. “I’m sorry. I never intended to place you or your home in danger.”
7
When Shara had padded down the stairs before dawn, looking sleepy and wary, Cade poured her a mug of coffee. Her rejection of his kiss had left him restless, on edge and with a hard on that wouldn’t quit. He still wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her good morning, but didn’t push his luck. Last night, he hadn’t slept well. He’d gone to sleep wondering what it would be like to kiss her. In truth he wanted more than a kiss.
He ached to run his hands through her luscious golden hair, bury his nose in her neck, taste her sweet tempting flesh. Most of all he wanted to feel her melt into him.
Shara took one sip, looked at him over the brim, and her hand shook so hard that coffee spilled over the top.
“Ow.”
With a swift move, he took the cup from her hand, then held her flesh under the cool running water of the sink. Lost in thought, she didn’t seem to mind his touch, until all of a sudden she jerked away.
Was she still upset that he’d almost kissed her? “Is something wrong?”
“When I fished you out of the sea, you were wearing a gold flight suit.”
Baffled, he eyed her with curiosity. “So?”
“You’re now wearing a short-sleeved white shirt and jeans.” She glanced at his forearms, then swallowed hard and looked away, then stared at the V of his neck.
He’d left the top two buttons unfastened, which exposed a triangle of chest. Surely that couldn’t have upset her given how much of his body she’d seen yesterday? “You object to my clothes?”
“No. Yes.” She took a deep breath. “I mean, I didn’t pull you from the sea with a suitcase attached to your arm. Nothing could have washed ashore on the outgoing tide, and I don’t keep men’s apparel on hand.” She narrowed her eyes over the brim of her coffee that was now back in a steadier hand. “So where did you get the clothes?”
Ah, now he understood. “My flight suit can alter to any color or shape. The fabric’s made with advanced nanotechnology.”
“May I?” She reached out to touch the material of his shirt between her thumb and forefinger. “It feels like cotton.”
“It is cotton.” He grinned at her, happy to share something good from his world.
“Can you change the shirt color?”
“Sure.”
“See this sensor?” He revealed an almost invisible button at the collar. “It reacts to my thoughts.” Then he altered his white shirt to solid crimson, then green stripes with no sleeves, then a yellow-and-blue pattern sleeved shirt with large cuffs before he again changed it back to the short-sleeved white. “Satisfied?”
She flashed him a look of aggravation. “You know yesterday, when I asked you for proof that you were from Rama, you could have showed me this. We don’t have this kind of technology.”
“I didn’t think of it. This is the only kind of clothing I’ve known.”
“You really are from another world?”
“Yes. There’s an alien man in your kitchen, drinking your coffee,” he teased.
She smiled back, the first genuine smile she’d given him, and it lit up her entire face. Her skin flushed, and her eyes brightened. “You could make a fortune with that formula, although you’d put a lot of people out of work. How long will the material last?”
“A few days.”
“And your arm’s healed?”
That she cared warmed him. He gently shrugged the shoulder. “Pretty much.”
“You heal . . . fast.”
Ignoring her observation, he dug into his pocket and pulled out a red, sparkling stone the size of her thumbnail and placed it in her palm. “I need to convert my gemstones to currency to pay for expenses.”
Shara lifted the stone to the light, and her eyes widened. “Wow. I’m no jeweler, but I’ve worn my share of bling to the Academy Awards and to holovid premieres. Is that a ruby?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve never seen one that red or that large. We unearthed the last of them in Burma and Thailand centuries ago. A few lucky prospectors have mined some on the asteroids, but none this large. It’s probably worth a fort
une.”
“Good.” He tucked the stone back into his pocket. “I need to arrange for credit to make a few purchases.”
“You certainly came prepared. Are the stones common on your world?”
She’d said, your world. So she was starting to believe him.
He just wished she wasn’t still eying him with so much suspicion. Obviously she had something else on her mind. Or secrets of her own.
8
Although the sea rocket flight from Haven to the space station wasn’t quick, Shara had bought out the spare seats on the taxi that served all the asteroids, so it had been private. She supposed she should have learned to fly and bought a private ship, but she didn’t leave her asteroid often.
But once they’d debarked into the space station which all travelers in the solar system used as a hub, because it connected natural wormholes, Shara worried about being recognized. She’d come prepared with a disguise, hiding her identity with large sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat that covered half her face. She steered Cade past the space station’s bars with blinking advertisements and booming music, a robo-café that served families, and a sex house that catered to both male and female miners.
“Hurry,” she said as she drew Cade around a corner.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’d prefer to keep our business private, and those paparazzi”—she discretely jerked her thumb—”are hunting for a quick holovid shot of celebrities. Everyone who is anyone has to come through this hub if they want to travel.”
Although her disguise seemed to be working, Cade was the issue.
Anywhere there were females, he’d attract attention. Now that his shoulder no longer seemed to be bothering him, his wan skin had returned to its original deep bronze. With his muscular frame paired with the deep spark of green in his eyes, he was a man who would draw female admiration without effort. Worse, because he obviously had no clue, he looked like a celebrity comfortable with being worshipped. He’d have that pack of vidhounds sniffing ’round to see who he was in no time.
“We need to do our business fast.” She grabbed his arm and led him out of a main walkway and down a side corridor. “We need a ride.”
Cade didn’t argue, and she liked that about him. He seemed confident enough to let her run things in her territory. His long legs easily kept pace with her. And he didn’t protest when she led him into a shop. Within moments he, too, had sunglasses and a ball cap.
When she used her credit chip to purchase the items, he frowned. “I’ll pay you back.”
“Credit is the least of our worries.” Shara glanced over her shoulder. One of the paparazzi had just entered the shop. Shara recognized the knowing gleam in her eyes. And sure enough, the gal made a beeline for them.
“Ms. Weston, can I have a shot of you and that gorgeous hunk?”
Beside her Cade pulled the hat brim lower over his forehead and bristled.
“Settle down,” Shara muttered under her breath. Being a celebrity had brought her wealth and notoriety at the price of privacy. She was accustomed to handling the hassle.
“He’s my security guard,” Shara told the girl as the woman pointed a camera at them. Just as a flash went off, Shara ducked her head, her hat hiding her face.
“Damn it. You ruined my shot.”
Shara hid her annoyance and pasted a smile on her face. “I’ll give you an exclusive next week if you let us get out of here now.”
“No can do.” She took another shot, and this second flash caught Shara in the eyes. “I have bills to pay and kids to feed.”
Before Shara could blink away the flash, Cade plucked the camera from the woman’s grip.
Shara had never seen anyone move that fast. Ever.
The reporter looked just as astonished. Then reacted. “Hey.” She jumped to retrieve her camera, but Cade held it over his head so she couldn’t reach. “That’s mine.”
With his free hand, Cade snagged a ruby from his pocket and held it up so the light caught the facets. “How about a trade?”
“It’s not real,” she muttered.
Cade tossed it her way. “See for yourself.”
The woman lunged for the stone but missed. Even as the precious stone was falling to the floor and rolling under a table, the woman scrambled after it, and Cade eased Shara toward the door.
They escaped onto a crowded moving walkway and quickly merged into the throngs.
“You paid too much,” Shara told him.
Cade shrugged, his tone dark. “Pictures could lead Jamar to us. That is unacceptable.”
“She had kids.”
“That, too.” He pulled the memory chip from the camera, dropped it to the sidewalk, and crushed it with his heel. Then he handed the camera to one of the space beggars.
Cade had a charitable side. He could have smashed the camera and paid the woman nothing. But when she’d mentioned feeding her kids, the sympathy in his eyes had been apparent. The big guy had a soft side that made her center turn all gooey.
Stop it. She knew lots of charitable men. But none of them looked like Cade. And none of them made her heart go skipping with just their presence alone.
Square footage was at a premium on the space station, but many of the intersolar merchants still did business in the tax free zone. They passed a store full of gourmet cheese made on Mars and icicle candy from Titan that wafted a mouthwatering scent. Boutiques displayed the latest in haute couture from Paris and electronics from India.
Shara stopped at a hovercar rental stand, fed credits into the self-pay, and accepted a key. “We’ll be safer in the hovercar than out walking.”
After she eased them into a hovercar and merged with the traffic, she breathed the tension out of her shoulders. She knew her way around the station, which was the size of a medium Earth-side city. “I love to drive. It’s one of the few things I miss on Haven.”
“Why do you like it so much?”
“There’s something about sitting behind the stick and watching the station fly by that soothes me.”
Beside her in the passenger seat, Cade wore his safety belt as if he’d ridden in hovercars all his life. He didn’t seem overly curious about the people streaming below on moving sidewalks or the huge hotels with neon signs embedded into the rooftops. Instead, he focused on her. “Why do you need soothing?”
She sighed. “Doesn’t everyone need soothing?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never thought about it.”
She supposed to him she sounded like a lightweight. His problems were life and death, and hers were . . . those of a wealthy, pampered, holovid star. But she liked her life, and she didn’t enjoy the fact that she cared what he thought about her.
She checked the time. “We have two hours before we catch the flight down to New L.A.”
“I need to sell my gemstones,” Cade said.
“Gemstones? You have more?”
He nodded and shot her a musing look. “Where’s the best place to sell them?”
“Define ‘best’? Price, credit, or discretion?”
Cade ticked off points on his fingers with the caginess of a space pirate. “Credit and discretion.”
She knew a store from when she’d had to raise bail. She turned the hovercar toward the financial district. The thick crowds slowed the pace of traffic. Instead of walking, people stood on the moving sidewalks.
“You need to establish a vidlink account so that after you sell the rubies, the jeweler can credit you. You’ll need identification.”
He plucked a driver’s license and passport from his rear jeans’ pocket and held them up for her to see. “Will these do?”
“You certainly came prepared.” His intersolar driver’s license was from Mars, and his passport appeared to be a few years old and actually had lunar stamps on it. “How long have you been planning your journey to Earth?”
“All my life.” His eyes darkened with emotion.
“Since you were born?” She gave him a startled look, r
ealizing how little she really knew about him.
He leaned back and let out a soft chortle. “I was speaking in metaphorical terms. Our scientists verified that salt was plentiful on Earth over ten years ago. Since then, we planned in secret and with extreme care. Yet, obviously we had a leak since Jamar was waiting here for me to arrive.”
Cade’s admission surprised her. “I’d assumed he followed you from Rama.”
“Jamar didn’t make the journey with me. He was already here on Earth, scheming.”
“You’re sure?”
“If he’d left Rama during my journey, my instruments would have spotted him in hyperspace.”
“So it’s possible Jamar isn’t alone?” she asked with a sinking feeling. It was bad enough that one alien wanted to kill Cade—but for all she knew, there could be an entire army of Ramans living among the solar system’s population.
“Jamar will have hired help, but he won’t work with another Raman.”
“How do you know?” The moment she asked the question, Cade grew still. Cautious. She sensed he was sifting through a long history between himself and the other man and filtering through his experiences to choose exactly what to say.
“Maybe you should pull over.”
Close to their destination, she swerved into an empty parking spot in the financial section and hovered so the engine would keep blasting cool air-conditioning. Unsnapping her safety belt, she turned to look at Cade. He stared straight ahead, his fingers clenched so hard she heard a knuckle crack.
Cade’s expression was pained and dark. “Jamar is one of the chosen ones. He’s always had all the salt his body requires, and he’s very powerful.”
“You know him personally?”
Cade’s eyes flashed green fire. “Jamar is . . . my brother.”
His brother? Her emotions tightened an ugly knot in her chest. Her hand clenched the stick in a cold, hard bite. “Your brother’s trying to kill you?”
He closed his eyes for a moment, then held hers for a desolate, tense second. “As a First, he believes that’s his right.”
Lunar Heat: 1 (The Heat Series) Page 5
