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

by Margo Bond Collins

  He was left alone in the room with Elle. So unlike the others, she kept her distance, her gaze locked onto him, studying him, but not with the same overt sexual desire. Instead, spunk, determination, and a hint of wariness radiated from her eyes. A strange, unfamiliar ache twisted his insides.

  “How about I take that bandage off, without all the drama?” The lilt in her voice tightened the coil, spreading warmth into his chest…and his groin.

  All he could do was nod.

  She stepped forward, closing the distance between them. With a soft touch, she trailed her fingertips over his forehead. His skin tingled at the contact and against his will, he leaned in. He couldn’t help but catch her warm unique scent, the fragrance reminding him of ripe, sweet apples. Although mere inches apart, she seemed galaxies away. He wanted to pull her close, drink her in, and find out how snugly her well-proportioned figure would fit against him. A low, frustrated breath eased from between his teeth.

  Her eyes widened, and she studied his features. It was all he could do not to kiss her plump lips.

  She glanced at his mouth then focused on his eyes. “I’m going to tear off the bandage now.”

  He swallowed and dipped his chin in acknowledgement.

  With a gentle tug, she eased the padding from his skin. “A bruise, nothing more.” Her soft breath caressed his cheek, enticing him.

  She was kind, caring, and treated him as a real human being. Respect for her burned in his gut. He took a step back, putting distance between them. “Thank you…Captain.”

  “What happened to you? Why were you in that pod?”

  Her questions sent a shot of adrenaline through his veins. The intensity in her gaze bore into him, and for a reason he couldn’t quite explain, he trusted her. “My crew and I entered Iridis’s orbit when some space debris punctured our hull. Breach was eminent. I sent the passengers to the planet in pods. The bridge is a self-contained emergency unit and should’ve gone there as well, but there was an explosion. That’s when I must’ve hit my head. The next thing I remember, I woke to” …a pair of beautiful eyes “…find you hovering over me.”

  “I guess you were lucky we spotted your small pod.”

  She smiled and an overwhelming urge to please her, do whatever she asked of him, tingled across his skin. He studied the new emotion, analyzing it, turning it over in his brain, but he didn’t understand its source. All he knew was the compelling desire to make her smile again. “Luck? Is there such a thing?”

  A twinkle formed in her eyes, and that beautiful smile graced her lips once again. His chest expanded, a strange euphoria filling his lungs.

  “For you, apparently. We’re on our way to sector three to meet with the Sandowins. Even with the portal jumps, it will take us an interstellar week to get there, but we can drop you off at the inter-planetary base. You can catch a freighter headed to Earth.”

  A hard ball formed in his gut. This time he was all too familiar with the emotion—fear. There was no way in hell he ever wanted to return to Earth. He steeled his features, hiding his true feelings, but he couldn’t stop his teeth from gnashing together.

  She blinked. Her gaze narrowed. It seemed as if she could read him like a schematic. “Would you like a shower?”

  The tension in his shoulders eased, at least for the moment. “Yes. Thank you, Captain.”

  A quick, friendly smile graced her features, and she tugged on his shirt. “Come with me. There’s a private shower in my quarters. I’d hate for one of the crew to interrupt you in the bathing facility. After that, there’s some food in the commons.”

  A shower and a meal sounded good…anything to take his mind off his future.

  Chapter Five

  ELLE TRAIPSED ACROSS THE BRIDGE to relieve the nervous energy flowing through her veins. The engines rumbled beneath her feet, evidence that they hurtled through space toward their destination. Her stomach twisted. They’d lost precious time picking up Angelo Thirteen, erasing the cushion they’d built in the schedule. She didn’t regret her decision, though. There was something about him, an unflustered tranquility that calmed her ragged nerves, easing into her soul like a welcome blanket. She’d left him in her room, giving him a fresh towel and one of the generic scrubs, size extra-large, from the crew’s shelves. To say his presence warmed her was an understatement.

  She twirled her mother’s ring around her thumb. It had been two years since she’d had a male in her private quarters. Michale had been her last boyfriend, but after a heated argument one night and a slap to the face, she’d ended her short three-month relationship. He was so much like father. A shudder ran over her shoulders and down her back. From that day forward, she’d vowed to live life on her own, shelter her heart.

  Angelo Thirteen was so unlike the men she’d dated, so level-headed, so quiet. Bringing him into her inner sanctuary spoke volumes of how much he’d affected her, but she still wasn’t convinced she could trust him.

  She shook her head and fisted her hand. “Adalyn, how much farther?”

  “The answer hasn’t changed since the last time you asked, two decitons ago.” Adalyn swiveled in her seat. A loud squeak pierced the air, reminding Elle to tell Britnie to fix the annoying noise. “Elle, please. I wish you’d take a break. Go grab a bite to eat or something.”

  Elle pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled. “I’m sorry, Adalyn. Just worried about this deal with the Sandowins.”

  “We lost some time when we picked up our passenger.” Montoya’s quipped voice skated over Elle’s nerves.

  Adalyn smirked. “You’re just jealous because you haven’t met him yet.”

  “You two are as bad as Nuette and Britnie.” Any male on their planet would’ve jumped at the chance to bed a female who came on to him like her crew had, but not Angelo Thirteen. He’d kept his distance.

  I wonder why.

  Montoya whistled. “Heads up. Approaching inter-dimensional portal in five, four, three, two, one—”

  A loud thump resonated through the ship.

  Paragon slowed.

  Elle’s scalp prickled as her hair stood on end. “Assessment.”

  “Can’t seem to pull up enough energy to power us through the portal.” Montoya’s usually calm voice held a trace of unease.

  Elle tensed. Another delay was not what they needed. “Santek, analysis.”

  “Failure in cold fusion reactor number three.”

  Montoya audibly inhaled. “Damn! Maybe we shouldn’t have pushed the reactors so hard.”

  Elle’s throat constricted, and she swiped her finger across one of the gold chevrons on her arm, opening a channel throughout the ship. The air crackled. “Britnie, reactor three is down. Can you repair it?”

  “Not sure. Give me five decitons and I’ll get back to you.”

  Elle resumed her pacing, her feet striding across the smooth floor. Santek’s skin rippled, and the movement only increased her unease. “Santek, why didn’t you warn us something was wrong?”

  “I was unaware the reactor was so touchy.” His smooth, calm voice only toyed with her nerves, like a sudden cat scratch—irritating and quick in its delivery.

  Adalyn tapped her long nail against the screen. “Elle, the Sandowins may not wait—”

  “I’m well aware that those bastards might leave if we’re late.” A pang of regret hit her in the stomach. She glanced at her friend. “Adalyn, forgive my scathing words.”

  Adalyn gave her a quick nod. “We’re all under a lot of stress.”

  Montoya grabbed Elle’s arm. “Circling around to prepare for relaunch.”

  Elle turned to face her second in command. “Montoya…”

  Over her friend’s shoulder, Angelo Thirteen leaned against the doorway. His dark stare met hers. Awareness prickled her skin.

  The com-link screeched and Britnie’s rushed voice pierced the air. “Elle, the reactor has completely failed, and…”

  “Go on, Brit.” Elle straightened her shoulders, her gaze still locked with hi
m.

  “We don’t have a spare.”

  The firm hand of fear gripped Elle’s chest. Breathing became difficult, but she couldn’t let her crew down…couldn’t let her brother down. There had to be another solution. She pressed her lips together. “I’m open to suggestions.”

  An eerie silence filled the air.

  “I may be able to help.” Angelo’s deep voice resonated across the room, working its way into her chest.

  A tingle of hope loosened Fear’s fingers. “I’m listening.”

  “There is a small cold fusion reactor in my pod. Perhaps that will be enough. Let me see what I can do.”

  Elle studied him for a long moment. His gaze never wavered from hers. Before she could change her mind, she nodded. “Thank you. Any help is appreciated.”

  What choice do I have? I have to trust him.

  Chapter Six

  ELLE’S STOMACH CHURNED. She couldn’t sit in her chair any longer. Bracing her hands against the soft synth-coated armrest, she rose from her seat. Blood rushed south. Spots formed in her eyes. She held on to the back of her captain’s chair until her vision cleared, her fingernails digging into the soft material. Of all the bad luck…a defective reactor. How could this happen?

  “Elle, you’re up and down, up and down. Please quit. You’re stressing me out.” Montoya swiveled in her chair. Her brow furrowed. “Don’t worry. Britnie will figure out how to fix the reactor.”

  Don’t worry. If only she could stop herself. Her mouth went dry.

  The extra delay caused by the defective cold fusion reactor put them behind schedule. If they could get the new reactor to work, and pushed the engines, they might still reach sector three on time. Elle had to believe they would. If not… No, she wouldn’t think of the consequences, but she couldn’t stop herself. You’ll lose Toman…and break your promise.

  She twirled the ring on her thumb, the precious jewelry her only memento of her mother. Mata… Her heart clenched, and a single tear slipped over her lash. Elle turned her back on her friends and through the bridge’s transparent invisi-screen, stared into the vastness of space.

  Elle crept into Mata’s room, her tiny feet padding along the dirt floor. A thin ray of light filtered through the thick window pane, sending a brilliant cascade of color across the bed. Elle focused on Mata, her once brown hair now white with the sickness. A low rattle eased from her lungs. The sound echoed against the walls.

  Pin pricks of energy tingled along Elle’s arms, and she took a tentative step forward. “Mata?”

  Mata opened her eyelids. A hint of a smile pulled at her lips. She inhaled, and a round of loud, hoarse coughs wracked her body.

  “Oh, Mata.” Cradled in a small crevice carved out of the dry dirt walls, the satchel of glacial water was too far away for her weakened mother to reach. Elle grabbed the small flask and ran to Mata’s side. She clasped her mother’s hand. The coolness of the elder woman’s skin chilled Elle’s palm, sending a shiver up her arm.

  As the attack ran its course and the coughs subsided, Mata relaxed, but the rattling in her lungs persisted. Elle’s chest constricted. Even at ten years old, she understood Mata wasn’t long for this world.

  With tender care, Elle cradled Mata’s head in her palm and tipped the canteen to the older female’s lips. As she drank, a few drops spilled over her chin, landing on the soft moss and loam that formed her bed. Elle returned the flask to its spot on the shelf and gripped Mata’s fingers once again. With a quick tug on the thin fur stole, she covered her mother’s bony shoulders.

  Mata licked her cracked lips. “Child…be strong.”

  “Elle, I told you not to come in here.” Pata’s raspy voice skated over Elle’s nerves. She turned to face him. Not tied in his usual queue, his dark brown hair cascaded over his shoulders. A dull redness rimmed his eyes, evidence of too much Transinian beer. He wavered and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe.

  Heat flared through Elle’s veins, and she spit the words out before she’d thought about the consequences. “I must care for her, Pata, since you won’t—”

  Faster than she imagined, his forceful slap whipped her head to the side. Her cheek burned, but not as much as the fire in her gut. She clenched her fist and held back the tears.

  “She’s of no use to us. Let her die.” His gaze narrowed on his mate, not a single hint of compassion anywhere on his features. He glanced at Elle before he stumbled from the room, his disjointed steps echoing down the hall.

  Elle’s chest constricted, and she peered at her mother.

  A tear slipped down Mata’s cheek. “He’s right. I’m…taking up resources.”

  “No, Mata!”

  She squeezed Mata’s hand, and the older female glanced at her, but the will to fight was gone from her mother’s gaze.

  “Elle…take care of your brother.”

  As much as Elle encouraged Mata to look at her, talk to her, she refused. She’d gone to her mental escape zone, shutting off all contact with the outside world. Over the next several hours, Elle stayed by her side, encouraging her mother to eat, drink, respond in some small way, all to no avail.

  Never once did Pata return.

  At long last, the rattling in Mata’s ragged breaths ceased. Elle kissed Mata on the forehead, then glanced into the hallway.

  Heat raced up her throat and into her face. Damn you, Pata. Now that Mata was gone, there was no shelter from her father’s wrath. She curled her hand into a fist. I’ll watch out for Toman, Mata, I promise.

  Elle wiped the tear from her cheek and her stomach hardened. Her brother hadn’t been home when Mata passed away. He’d run an errand for His Magistrate, the wealthiest man in their district, the one he’d ultimately robbed. Work started early for the destitute on Alta, and if you weren’t a member of the elite “ruling” class, life wasn’t easy. Many of the underprivileged succumbed to thievery to survive. Once caught, the so-called “justice” system forced the felons into the pits to mine the Tenium. Few survived a sentence to work in the tough labor camps, and the ones that did, didn’t return unscathed. She pounded her fist against her leg. No matter the price, she’d do whatever it took to keep her brother out of the mines.

  ***

  “Hand me the wrench.” Angelo Thirteen crouched on the cool metallic floor, his shoulders squished into the small crevice between the cold fusion case and the wall. The muscles in his back ached and he longed to stretch, ease the tension in his arms, but the need to assist Elle and her crew burned in his gut. He analyzed his emotions, this strange desire to help when all he’d earn for his efforts was a return trip to Earth, but he couldn’t make sense of the feelings.

  “Here. This should work.” Britnie slapped a thin rod into his hand. It was no wrench, and he peered at her through the slats between the reactors.

  He held up the small device. “Don’t you have a wrench? Something to tighten this down?”

  She smirked. “Try it. You’ll see.”

  He tapped the rod against the reactor and the belt tightened around the core. With a sense of wonder, he studied the small tool. A smile pulled at his lips. This ship and the crew had many wonderful surprises, things he’d never seen on Earth. Elle…

  He inhaled. Why did she come to mind?

  “Did it work?” Britnie’s words tore him from his thoughts.

  “Yes, remarkably well. I think we should give the reactor a try.” Over the past couple of hours, he’d worked with Britnie to pull his cold fusion reactor from his pod and bring it to the Engineering Unit. The capsule wasn’t a perfect fit, but he’d tinkered with it enough to make it work…or at least he hoped so. They’d all find out soon enough if his small reactor would suffice. A tendril of worry crept into his mind, and he ran his hand over his lucky rock.

  He scooted from his cramped space between the reactors and stood. Wiping his hand over his brow, he caught the bead of sweat before it dripped down his nose.

  Britnie tapped her fingers over the gold filament on her forearm a
nd a vid-screen on the wall came to life, displaying the bridge.

  Elle’s profile appeared. Sheer determination radiated from her stiff posture, and with a raised chin, she stared through the clear panes into the darkness of space.

  Angelo Thirteen caught his breath. Such spirit…

  Britnie cleared her throat. “Elle, we’re ready to charge the reactors.”

  Elle turned to face the screen. Her yellow eyes flared. “Fabulous. Nice work, Britnie.”

  Britnie glanced at him, an appreciative smile gracing her lips. “I can’t take the credit. Angelo Thirteen figured out how to synchronize his reactor with the others. I couldn’t have done it without him.”

  A feeling of weightlessness lifted his spirit. “I’m glad I could help, Captain.”

  The deep sentiment in his voice startled him. He tensed, waiting for their reaction.

  Elle’s smile widened, and she inclined her head to him. “Thank you, Angelo Thirteen.”

  She didn’t seem to care if he displayed his emotions or not. Interesting.

  “Perhaps we should see if it works before you thank me too much.”

  She nodded, but a small smirk played on her lips. “Adalyn, plot a course for the inter-dimensional portal. Britnie, charge up the reactors. Montoya, Nuette…hold on.”

  “I’m on it.” Britnie crossed the room to a small console embedded in the wall. Her fingers flew over the screens. “Santek, you with me?”

  The walls rippled, and a low groan echoed from an unknown source, somewhere deep in the ship. Angelo Thirteen furrowed his brow. “Is the ship…alive?”

  So involved in her work, Britnie didn’t acknowledge his question.

  The reactors lit up, one by one, including the small unit from his pod. His pulse beat loud in his ears. Would his provide enough power?

  The engines roared to life.

  A cheer rose from the bridge. He glanced at the vid-screen.

  Elle’s smile washed over him, plunging him beneath a wave of emotions he couldn’t identify. His chest expanded, and he wanted to explore star systems, conquer worlds, take on the entire universe—do whatever it took to see that smile again, and again, and again. If he wasn’t careful, he’d want to stay with her.