Baby, it's Cold in Space: Eight Science Fiction Romances

by Margo Bond Collins

  The male’s shoulders stiffened. His lip curled, but he did as expected. He gripped one long, white tube, the muscles in his biceps straining from the weight. As the metal hit the floor, the loud clank reverberated off the walls. He twisted the top. Even through the hologram, the rainbow sparkle of colors emanating from the crystals lit up the room.

  Elle clenched her hand, but maintained her composure. Although she despised the Sandowin bastards for enslaving other species, completing this deal was her number one priority.

  The image scrambled and Malachi’s cold glare reappeared on the holo. “You see we have the numitite crystals. We await you in sector three, near the Freonian system.”

  The hologram blinked out.

  Elle released her pent-up breath. “Adalyn, how long until we arrive?”

  Adalyn scanned the stellar cartography on the display and furrowed her brow. “According to my calculations, seven galactic days, five if we push the reactors, but that cuts it close for our return trip.”

  Elle’s gut tightened. Payment to release Toman was due in twelve days. “Push it. Let’s arrive early. I want to seal this deal and get home as fast as possible.”

  Adalyn nodded, and swiveled in her chair to face her vid-screen. A slow creak issued from the metal. “Coordinates set, ready on your command.”

  “Santek. Take us there.”

  A low rumble shook the floor, and Santek’s deep voice echoed through the room. “As you wish, my lady.”

  Chapter Three

  ELLE CROSSED HER LEGS AND LEANED BACK into her captain’s chair. Through the transparent panes of the invisi-screen, the stars and planets flew by at just under the speed of light. An ache built in her back, and she adjusted herself in the seat. One armrest pressed into her ribs, jabbing her as if with malicious intent. Unwilling to take anymore, she stood.

  Ugh. Some days her patience was thinner than others. Today was one of those days. To let off some steam she paced the bridge, stopping by Adalyn at the navigation station then returning to Montoya at the security controls. Elle twirled the gilded ring on her thumb, a gift from her deceased mother.

  “Location status.” Even to Elle’s ears, her words seemed harsh.

  “Triton system. We still have a ways to go. Maybe you should consider a bath…or a vibrator, just…something to blow off some of that steam.” A smirk crept across Adalyn’s face.

  Elle pursed her lips to hide the smile that tugged there. After their years together at the space academy, Adalyn knew when Elle’s stress level was high. “Time enough for that later, once we’re done with the Sandowins.”

  She focused her attention on the see-through panel and the vastness of space.

  A small flicker caught her attention. Unlike a star or planet, the light blinked and approached at an incredible speed, growing in size. “Montoya, do you see that?”

  Montoya pulled her gaze from the console. “See what—”

  “Santek, disengage cylinders. Stop engines.”

  The ship slowed, still drifting in space from the aftermath of the propulsion. A small pod floated by in the distance.

  Montoya placed her hand on Elle’s shoulder. “Garbage?”

  “You know how I detest litter.” She furrowed her brow. “Adalyn. Scan for life forms.”

  The clicking of Adalyn’s nails across the display was the only sound in the cabin. “One life form…alive. Humanoid in nature, ninety-nine point eight percent compatible to Altonians, and…” she inhaled, “…male. No detection of any weapons.”

  Elle clenched her fist, and the scars across her knuckles tightened. She didn’t relish the idea of bringing a man on board. Ingrained in her soul were her father’s constant “teachings,” the back of the knife against her hand a constant reminder of her failure to please him. All she ever wanted was his love, but as much as she wanted to hate her father, she couldn’t. Instead, she’d erected protective barriers around her heart. I have my ship and my crew. That’s good enough. Despite her internal pep talk, her chest ached. “Raise him on intercom.”

  Adalyn’s soft voice pierced the air. “This is Paragon. Please respond.”

  Silence.

  “Try again.” Elle pursed her lips.

  “Small pod. Do you need assistance?”

  The stillness in the ship sent a shiver down Elle’s arms.

  “Decision, Captain?” Montoya’s penetrating gaze bore into Elle.

  The last thing she needed was a hotheaded male on board her ship, but she couldn’t abandon anyone to the deep recesses of space. “Adalyn, you said he was alive. What is the environment in the pod?”

  Her nails clicked across the screen. “Temperature, a few marks above freezing. Seventy-eight percent nitrogen, twenty-one percent oxygen, and a trace of other gases. Breathable, yet depleting. Not sure how much longer the oxygen will last.”

  Elle glanced from Montoya to Adalyn and back again. She wouldn’t put her crew at risk. “Tractor him in. I’ll meet his ship in the freight bay. Montoya, you have control of the bridge.”

  Montoya stepped forward. “As your security officer, I will go.”

  Respect for her friend washed over Elle, causing her chest to expand. “I appreciate your offer, but not this time. I need you to stay on the lookout for anything else we might come across.”

  Montoya straightened in her chair. “Yes, Captain.”

  Elle glanced at the lone pod. She curled her hand into a tight fist. If you’re anything like my father, I’ll leave you with the Sandowins.

  ***

  Elle entered the small pod. The icy air brushed against her cheek, reminding her of the frigid winds on Alta. Darkness crept from all corners except for the single flickering red light on the console. She blinked, the membrane moistening the delicate lenses in her eyes. As she adjusted to the dimness, objects became clear—two chairs, multiple screens, and the form of a large male sprawled against the curved wall.

  She gasped. His scent, so much like Alta’s cool rain during a storm, raced into her lungs. A strange sense of calm settled over her nerves, and against her will, her chest expanded. She kneeled next to him. Heat radiated from him in waves, sending a flush to her face, chasing away the cold. Her pulse quickened.

  Short, brown hair covered his eyes, but his aquiline nose and full lips called to her on a level she didn’t understand. Without thought, she ran her finger over his temple, tucking his dark hair behind his ear so she could get a better look at him. Dried blood coated his forehead, and the gash in his hairline glistened from the congealed mass. Under his eye, two small, black digits graced his cheek. How long had he floated through space? Her chest ached for this handsome male.

  She ground her teeth. Stop ogling him. He needs help. The sooner she got him aboard and rendezvoused with the Sandowins, the better.

  “Hey, can you hear me?” She touched his arm, and the firm muscles under his soft skin tingled the sensitive pads on her fingers.

  He didn’t stir, so she leaned forward to assess his cut. She trailed her finger around the injury, and his tender skin puckered under the pressure. The deep blue of a bruise had already started to form. She brushed his cheek and before she could stop herself, slid her thumb over his plump bottom lip. Her pulse fluttered, the sudden urge to kiss him rolling over her skin.

  His eyelids popped open. He clutched her wrist.

  She stifled a scream and pulled back, but his firm grip held her in place.

  Instinctually, she knew he could crush her wrist in an instant, but his grasp was remarkably gentle. Deep pools of brown, his eyes were like the richest Andoline chocolate. A part of her wanted to lose herself in them, see how far she could fall. A rush of heat raced up her neck and into her cheeks. She gritted her teeth, steeling herself against this unknown male. “Let me go!”

  His eyebrows furrowed. He focused those incredible eyes on her. “Naet fe corta?” Low and sensual, his voice danced along her nerves, awakening something deep inside.

  Without breaking his gaze, she g
lided her fingers over the third chevron on her forearm. Santek’s translator would convert the stranger’s words into Altonian. It worked both ways, so when she spoke, he’d understand her. “What did you say?”

  He licked his lips and she focused on them. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Elle. I’m here to help. Let. Me. Go.”

  Trapped by his grip, he held her still, their bodies close. Only the sound of their ragged breaths filled the air. His gaze flicked around the pod before returning to her. His features softened, and he released her.

  She pulled away. Her heart hammered. “Who are you? What happened?”

  He grasped the back of one of the chairs for support and rose on unsteady legs. His fingers whitened under the strain. “I’m Angelo Thirteen. My ship was hit by…” He shook his head. “Never mind. Where are we…and how did you get on board?”

  The tic in his jaw belied his calm demeanor. Although he’d gripped her wrist, holding her in place, it seemed more out of his own anxiety than his need to dominate her. He didn’t seem volatile, not like her father, but she couldn’t be sure. “You are on the Paragon, my ship. We are in sector six, close to the Dracin colony. My crew and I are on our way to pick up a delivery in sector three.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” He rubbed his fingers through his hair. A wince crossed his face, and he glanced at his hand. Congealed blood coated his fingers.

  Elle huffed. “You need to see Nuette, our ship’s cargo engineer and med specialist. She’ll fix that cut up before you know it.”

  He held her gaze. Her chest tingled, a strong physical pull reeling her closer. She swayed on unsteady feet and took a step back.

  “I’m light years from Iridis.”

  She peered at him. Iridis? She didn’t recognize that world. “Maybe you drifted through an undiscovered natural wormhole. Is Iridis your home planet?”

  His expressionless face would’ve fooled most people, but not her. Altonians had an innate ability to read the slightest hints in body language. The scant lines around his eyes were a dead giveaway. He was tense, stressed.

  “No. I’m from Earth.”

  She’d heard of the place. A bunch of warring factions had destroyed the society from within. Who needed external enemies when you had homegrown ones? My problems pale in comparison. The tension in her shoulders eased.

  “I’m meeting up with the Sandowins in a few galactic days out your way. We’ll drop you off at the nearest star base.” She withdrew her gaze from his and focused on his forehead. “Besides, Nuette really needs to check your injury.”

  He studied her for a moment then nodded. “Thank you.”

  Chapter Four

  ANGELO THIRTEEN LEANED AGAINST THE TABLE. Coolness from the hard surface leached through his pants, numbing his backside. The scent of cleaning fluid trickled into his senses, masking the underlying aroma of synthetic leather and alloy. He was in a medical facility on an alien space ship. At least that was better than lost in the deep bone-chilling vastness of space.

  Elle…the entrancing female had roused him on his pod. Surprised at the stranger on his bridge, he’d reacted instinctively and gripped her wrist. The skin-on-skin contact had tingled the nerves in his fingers, causing his pulse to race. With a quick glance, he’d taken in her appearance.

  Silky dark clothes covered, but couldn’t quite hide, her generous curves. Where the fabric ended at her elbow, her soft smooth skin was a remarkable shade of green. Embedded in her forearms were intricate gold chevron shapes, unlike anything he’d ever seen. Vivacious energy, intense and powerful like the sun, radiated from her beautiful yellow eyes, enticing and teasing him. His breath had caught in his throat. He’d wanted to partake in her vibrancy, experience what it was like to possess such powerful emotions.

  “Nuette, status please.” The soft timbre of Elle’s voice filtered into his brain like a gentle spring mist, bringing him out of his daydream. She leaned against the far wall. He couldn’t see anything except the top of her soft brown hair, his vision blocked by her med specialist.

  Nuette’s dark hair was tied in a short ponytail at her nape. A thin membrane traced over her eye then retracted behind her lid.

  How interesting…

  “Looks like he’ll live.” Nuette patted him on the shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze. Her gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips, lingering there a tad longer than casual interest before pulling to the bandage on his head. “The cut was deep, but the salve patch we put over it should be just about done.”

  A soft giggle echoed, and a female with long dark hair approached from across the room. She nudged against Nuette. “Let me take it off for you.” Her gaze travelled over his body, and he didn’t appreciate the scrutiny. His jaw tightened.

  Nuette furrowed her brow. “Britnie, I’m afraid that’s my job as the med specialist. You’re the ship’s engineer.”

  Britnie’s yellow eyes brightened. “Look at those muscles. I just want to touch him.”

  “Brit, I’ve got dibs on him.” Nuette gave her a not so gentle shove. “Get out of the med unit.”

  His pulse spiked. Unwilling to take any more of their attention, he stepped away from the table. He rubbed the lucky rock in his pocket, but it didn’t calm his nerves.

  “That’s enough, both of you. Give him some space.” Elle’s firm voice skated over the din, silencing the squabbling females. She focused on him. The intensity and determination in her gaze stoked the kindling of a fire deep in his chest. He held his breath.

  “I’m sorry for their forward behavior. We don’t have many males on our planet.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “Noted.”

  She glanced at her crew. “Britnie, isn’t it time you cleaned Santek’s reactors?”

  The walls in the room rippled. A strange sense of wonder flitted over his nerves. He wanted to reach out and touch the unusual material, find out what caused it to quiver, but Britnie’s loud exhale brought his attention back to the conversation.

  “Santek, why can’t you take care of yourself?” Britnie’s shoulders slumped. She glanced at Angelo Thirteen, her gaze roaming from his head to his feet.

  A strange prickling sensation ran over his scalp. He’d seen that look before…in the copulation clubs. She wants me to service her. He swallowed, hiding his distaste behind his shuttered features. The last thing he wanted was another purely sexual encounter. A memory flitted across his mind—unbidden and unwanted.

  Angelo Thirteen pulled on the door handle and stepped inside the copulation club. Soft feminine moans matched by hard masculine grunts emitted from several corners of the dimly lit room. The distinct musky scent of sex filled his nose, and he gritted his teeth. This was the last place on Earth he wanted to be, well, except for maybe the medical facility, the one where they reprogrammed divergent clones, but he was overdue, and his physical need had driven him here.

  As his eyes adjusted to the scant light, the outline of men and women in various stages of undress became clear. Many had paired off in couples, but several groups of three or more were spread among the soft cushions, couches, and tailored tables in various stages of fornication. One male held a female from behind, his hand wrapped around her waist. She leaned over the edge of a table, and the wood squeaked with each thrust of their combined bumping and grinding.

  A tic pulsed in his jaw. I can’t do this. He turned to leave, but a young woman gripped his arm, halting him.

  “Please…will you service me?” The warmth of her fingers tingled his skin.

  The muscles in his arms tensed, and he peered over his shoulder. She had long dark hair, brown eyes, and full red lips. Tattooed under her left eye—the number nine. His gaze wandered south, past her peaked nipples to the small tuft of dark hair at her mound. For all intents and purposes, she was beautiful, and his need pooled into his groin, hardening his shaft. Despite his body’s physical reaction, he had no desire to couple with her.

  He hesitated, torn between screwing her and retreating t
o his room. She ran her hand over his back, around his waist, and to his crotch. With a firm grip, she squeezed his shaft through his thin slacks.

  A hiss escaped his lips.

  “Take off your clothes. Service me, and I’ll service you.” Her words bore into him, and even as his shaft hardened to the point of pain, a chill ran over his skin.

  To lay with her would be nothing more than a release of tension for the both of them. Hell, he didn’t even know her name. Bile rose in his throat. He didn’t want this…this casual sex. What he longed for more than anything was a special connection, something more than the physical bonding. He’d heard of this thing called love—the most powerful of all emotions. What would it be like to love another? He yearned to experience something so profound, to erase the loneliness inside.

  “Well, are you going to take care of my needs?” She studied him, her gaze searching his features.

  If he turned her down now, he’d set off red flags, earning him an “evaluation trip” to the medical facility. He couldn’t afford that, he’d fail the test and be—reprogrammed. Steeling himself, he turned and gripped her around the waist. Without a single ounce of passion and a heaviness in his chest, he kissed her lips. “Of course, I’ll service you.”

  “Maybe we’ll catch up later.” Britnie’s voice tore him from his memory. She gave him one more look before exiting the med unit. The sound of her boots pounding down the corridor diminished with each step.

  Elle pushed off the wall, her authority and command evident in her graceful posture. “Nuette, other than the patch on his forehead, are you done with your examination?”

  The doctor met Elle’s gaze. “Yes. I’m finished.”

  “Would you leave us alone for a few minutes?”

  Nuette nodded. “Of course.” With one quick glance, she gave him a warm smile. “Hope to see you again soon, Angelo Thirteen.”