by Lilly Cain
If she hadn’t glanced back at that moment, Sarina would have missed the slight thinning of John’s lips as he pressed them tightly together and the fleeting dark expression, almost anger, on his face as he stared at the healer. “No, thanks. If we’ve been attacked once, we might be attacked again, and I don’t want to hold up the evacuation.”
“The evacuation has already begun. You will actually be the last to move out,” Sarina stated and turned to glance at the monitoring vid. It was safer than looking at the curve of muscle under John’s skin. “But you are correct. It is best if we move quickly.”
John flexed and then swung his legs over the edge of the medical bed as he sat up. “Let’s go now. I need to complete…” He touched his forehead as a wave of apparent dizziness hit him. “My assignment…”
* * *
Shadows lurked at the edges of his vision. Sarina grabbed his elbow and steadied him, her strong fingers wrapped securely around his elbow. Bloody hell. He must have been more injured than he’d thought, or this healing thing took more out of a person than he imagined. He’d come perilously close to saying something he shouldn’t have, an error he’d never committed in ten years of high-level missions. And Sarina smelled so good, looked so good in her layers of weaponry. It had to be the sexiest outfit he’d ever seen.
“I have to get back to the others and finish the agreement,” he said. “We clearly need it more than ever.”
Sarina was watching him, but she gave a small, slow nod. She was buying it. Maybe.
“Were any of the others injured?”
“No. Only you. Only our sector received any damage.” She met his eyes. She suspected something, no doubt about it. And if he’d been the only member of the legal team injured, it would probably appear that he was the target. He was supposed to be a nonentity, a nobody lawyer. Someone out there must be aware of his cover. It was the only possibility.
“You are free to go, although I am noting that it is against my recommendation.” The medtech passed him a pettan. John eyed the short covering. He wasn’t even sure how to put the damn thing on, but he didn’t want to walk around naked either.
“Do you require assistance?” Sarina might suspect him, but she was amused. And possibly still sexually interested, considering the tiny raised edge of her L’inar that he could see near the collar of her uniform. It was an angle that just might put her suspicion on hold. Plus, a more sexual approach to his cover, considering the way she’d felt in his arms last night, would be very satisfying all around.
He pretended to growl at her, but he flexed slightly as he put one leg into the pettan. Go ahead and look, sweetie. He considered trying to project a sexual thought toward her, but a slight sound from the medtech reminded him he had more than one person in the audience, so to speak. And considering the way the Inarrii male was looking at them, he might be hoping for an invitation, something John wasn’t prepared to offer.
Hurriedly he pulled the pettan on and struggled to tie the closure. After a moment Sarina stepped forward and pulled the ties from his hands. She made quick work of them, but John’s breath caught as she brushed against his thigh, and the material snagged lightly against the skin of his cock. The unexpected gesture was so intimate he sucked in a quick breath of air. Despite the clinical tang of the medlab he could smell her hair, the clean scent that was her skin. Clearly he was recovering quickly from the Inarrii healing because if they didn’t get somewhere private soon, he might make her an offer, audience be damned.
“Medtech Yassin, you are relieved of duty. This shuttle is now under my command.” Her voice was cool as she addressed the technician; perhaps she wasn’t as affected by the act of binding him as he was.
John took another breath and moved aside. Control—he needed it now.
“Very well. Perhaps we will meet again and discuss your injury and possible treatment.” For an instant John was confused as to whom the man was talking to, and then he realized the medtech was speaking to Sarina.
He glanced at her. Had she been injured in the attack as well? If she had, it wasn’t evident. Were her old injuries still bothering her? Because she sure as hell didn’t move like they were.
“Another time, Medtech Yassin. Tel sahiir denay.” Sarina headed for the door.
John followed a few steps behind, giving the medical technician a nod and a smile.
“Inar choksan,” Sarina spoke to the two Inarrii in the exterior room.
They snapped off the vid game they had been playing and rose to attention. John hid a grin at the note of command in her voice. Damn, she’s sexy when she’s the boss. It gave him some entirely inappropriate ideas when he should be working out how to contact his mission tech. He was relieved when she continued in his own language. Beyond a few common phrases and commands, the Inarrii language was one he had yet to master.
“Take your positions. We are heading for the Horneu within the hour, once the medical personnel moves off board and we are given permission to take off.”
The nearest pilot nodded. “Good flying, Tariim. There have been no reported attacks on the other evacuees.”
“Well, let’s hope that continues to be the case and we are ignored as well. We have the medical markings on the shuttle to offer us some anonymity.”
The pilot waved his hands in an Inarrii shrug and turned away. She stared after them as they headed for the shuttle bay hatch. John watched her. Despite her attentive gaze she seemed lost in her thoughts.
When she stepped forward again, turning right and walking through a corridor hatch, John followed once again. Tagging along was beginning to feel a little stale. He needed information. A quick scan of the common area before they left offered him an option—there was a communications panel in one corner. All he needed was a few moments of privacy and he could be in touch with Davis. No doubt the man knew of John’s injury and his eventual transport. But what Davis was aware of could also be common knowledge for whoever had pinned him in the first place.
Sarina stopped in the next room, only a few feet away from what must be the shuttle’s command center and three curved seats. It took him a second to catch his momentum, his thoughts centering on contacting his Starforce mission tech. He came close to her, nearly brushing up against her. When she turned toward him, he was close enough to touch his lips to hers, but the look in her eyes told him this would not be the best idea.
“So, John Bennings, what kind of lawyer is covered in laser scars, moves like a warrior born and is singled out for a Ravener attack when there are bigger, juicier targets all around?”
Chapter Four
Sarina studied John’s expression. His face had gone blank as she’d begun to question him. There were no clues to his feelings. His thoughts were also tightly shuttered. That in itself seemed odd; for a man whose sexual fantasies were projected loud and clear, his general thoughts appeared highly contained. Finally he took a step away and turned to sit in one of the command console chairs. She let him have a moment, but kept her stance balanced. Inarrii rarely lied since it went against their beliefs and the natural honesty inspired by m’ittar, but she knew very well that many other species had the ability to avoid the truth.
“The scars—” He hesitated and then began again, his eyes downcast. “The scars I got from a serious industrial accident several years ago, when I was only twenty. I was pretty stupid. Thought I was invincible. They were painful and looked terrible. I had them altered so I could look as normal as possible.” He looked up at her and smiled, but the expression didn’t meet his eyes. “They did a good job. I took up karate, what we call a martial art, as a way to recover. It acted as a kind of therapy to deal with the injury and get stronger.
“As for the Raveners, I have no idea why they seem to have attacked me in particular. I am only one in a team of people acting on Earth’s behalf.”
He stared at her.
She searched his eyes and extended her m’ittar. It was a breach of etiquette, but she didn’t push too hard. Nothing. He remained blank to her. But his story seemed to hold a hint of truth, at least to her ears. He’d explained everything very neatly, except his part as target for the Raveners. Who could say what their motive was? They had somehow homed in on him, but that could still be coincidence. She would confirm his story about being injured years ago, but the reflected hurt in his eyes matched the scans of the scars on his body. He really had experienced agony and overcome it. Perhaps this was one thing they had in common.
“I was injured, as you may know, on the Horneu in the last major terrorist attack. My arm was nearly severed.” She offered the commonality and waited. This was the point when an Inarrii would link the events, realize she had lost her L’inar connections and pull away from her.
Instead, the human nodded in commiseration. “I’m sorry you had that kind of pain. It’s good that your technology has allowed you to recover completely.” His eyes held some sympathy, but at least it was only from the thought of the agony she had endured. He didn’t know the rest.
“I am not healed, not entirely. A large section of my L’inar was severed from the central nervous column. They cannot be repaired.” She heard her own voice calmly tell him what any Inarrii would understand to be the end of her career, if not her life. She knew he wouldn’t understand the ramifications, wouldn’t look at her with horror and pity. But still, the words were difficult to say aloud. She thought of the flash of hope she’d felt in his arms as he drove them both toward a peak she’d thought never to see again.
He watched her, waited for her to say something more.
Sarina debated with herself. There was still something very different about this man. Perhaps it was because he was human. The circumstances they found themselves in certainly had been layered with a tension that made trusting him difficult. But she found him appealing, his strength and sexuality an attractive balm to her damaged senses. If he could truly bring her to orgasm, then she had something she could hope for.
“I would like to continue where we left off before you were injured, if you are interested. If you were Inarrii, I would not need to be so direct, but I am not certain of your customs. I would like to have sex with you, many times, to see if we can stimulate my L’inar as we did the other night in a sustainable way.” She plunged through the words in a headlong gallop, like a wild yimnar on the sand dunes of her home world. Immediately she regretted the request. Now wasn’t the time. Their earlier experience was acceptable in relation to her duty—connection to her charge was good and there had been no indication of danger at that time.
Now, his life was at risk. Sex was a relief, but it could also be a distraction.
Guilt bit at her. What if he was injured again? What if she lost her concentration on his safety during a sexual affair? And on another level, her embarrassment ranked nearly as highly as her guilt. She’d never had to ask for sex; as a high-ranking warrior from one of the most honorable clans, she’d always been the one sought after. Now her clan had abandoned her and she’d resorted to soliciting humans.
Surprise filtered over his face. Clearly she had startled him, but he didn’t look offended. His eyes darkened; his skin flushed. The nipple buds on his chest tightened in what she knew was human sexual reaction. Watching him sent a wave of interest through the L’inar along her scalp, down the center of her back.
When he stood, his once-blank m’ittar flared, a quick flame of lust that singed her mind.
“Sergeant Tariim, Medship Five, Medtech Yassin is off board and you are cleared for take off.” The voice of the Osprey’s human commtech cut into the moment, slicing it as cleanly as a warrior’s dash’tet.
Sarina stifled a groan and chided herself. This was not the time for pleasure or therapy of any kind. She had her duty—to get her charge to the Horneu safely, no matter what his past was or what he could offer her. He must complete his part of the Treaty. “Inar sho sahiir, Osprey, this is Medship Five,” she responded. She felt John’s eyes on her and fought the desire to look back at him as she settled into the pilot chair. “Are our escorts fired up?”
“Escorts are making their pass along the ship now, Tariim. You’re set. Have a safe journey.”
Sarina slid her fingers over the controls. The Inarrii flight panel sprang to life, the color and tones of the light telling her the status of the ship on a subliminal level as well as in literal linear readouts. The hum of ultrasonics filtered through the soles of her boots as they had a thousand times before and she slipped into the comfortable routine of take off. Sonic waves pushed the shuttle gently from the dock and into space. Despite the familiarity of flight, a line of tension snaked through her belly. From here until they reached the Horneu, they would be vulnerable.
The ship reached the safe zone and she kicked in the pulse engine, boosting the shuttle into the first velocity cycle. Curving the direction of the shuttle toward Mars, the two Inarrii fighter escorts entered the edge of the vid screen and took flanking positions to the shuttle.
John sat quietly beside her in the copilot command chair. She could feel the intensity of his gaze even without the contact of m’ittar as he watched her every move. She continued her security check and initiated full battle screens. They limited the visual and sensing range of the ship, but the force screens would protect the medship from fairly heavy fire.
After a few minutes John stood and excused himself. She didn’t watch him leave. When in her life had she been so embarrassed? Never. He wanted her, but the whole experience had become awkward, something she hadn’t expected.
* * *
John ground his teeth together as he left the control room. More than anything he would like to take Sarina and tie her to a bed somewhere. Screw her until they’d both had enough and could concentrate on their respective jobs. But that wasn’t going to happen. She’d asked him to have sex—lots of sex—and she was already all he could think about. This had to be the worst case of bad timing, ever. He could sense a vulnerability in her when she told him about her injury and yet he had no choice but to use that opening to continue with his mission.
This was the only moment where Sarina was too busy with the ship’s controls, and possibly with her own thoughts, to have any time to suspect him or to watch what he was doing. It was the perfect time to set up communications with Davis. He had to.
You could have taken the time to say yes, you idiot, he berated himself, but leaving her hanging was the best thing for the mission, wasn’t it? He resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall as he found the stash of his personal belongings at the back of the shuttle lounge. All of his things from the Osprey had been packed into two small duffle bags.
He grabbed his wrist comp and slapped it on. Sarina would have to stay at the controls while they made the four-hour trip; at least, that’s what a human pilot would do without a backup. John walked over to the communication panel. With a few strokes of command on his wrist unit, he made a connection and inserted the codes for covert mode.
“Davis, up and at ’em.” He spoke quietly.
“Well, playboy, good to finally hear from you.”
“Hey, I was injured. Where were you when I was in an alien medical lab? You didn’t even send flowers.” John couldn’t resist the quip. For just an instant he felt normal again, in control.
“I would have, but I wasn’t sure if your Inarrii girlfriend would approve. Heard she hauled you in naked and bloody. Must have been quite a night.”
John pressed his lips together. He had a serious desire to tell Davis to go fuck himself, but that would only encourage the idiot. He glanced down at his writ comp. Data flowed in from Davis. The man might be a jerk at times, but he knew his job and was streaming the latest updates immediately, in case their communication was cut off.
“Back off there, bud. There wa
s no way she could know we’d be attacked. She saved my life.”
“Okay. Are you good?”
“Yeah, but I figure someone has me pinned. They have me as an agent, or something. They’ve been going straight for me.”
“Yeah. I know. I’d pull you, but the CIC says stay put and keep at it. She probably thinks you’re a better target than the real civilians.”
“And she’d be right. We’re headed to the Horneu, and I’ll maintain cover there.”
“Just don’t go too deep undercover, bud. I hear sex with those aliens ruins you for human pussy.”
Annoyance burned at a spot behind John’s eyes. He rubbed his head but kept his reply casual. “Well then, Davis, I’ll be clear to hit on you.”
Davis killed the line, but not before John heard his snort of derision. A tickle of irritation remained from their conversation. The man could be a real asshole. Maybe he just needed to get laid. He cut the connection between his wrist comp and the communication panel, then turned and stared at the doorway that led to the control room.
He owed Sarina an answer. She’d been honest with him and he’d done nothing but lie. Davis was right about one thing—getting involved was stupid. But he’d never claimed to be that smart.
* * *
Sarina heard John step back into the control room. Whatever he’d been doing, it hadn’t taken long. He stood behind her, obviously waiting. For the first quarter of the flight she ignored him. Finally she turned back to him. Her L’inar nerves rippled erratically, and her heart beat harder. It was irrational—if he refused her, she would be no worse off than she was before. But…if he agreed, she had the prospect of engaging in a sensual exploration with a human male every bit as attractive as any Inarrii warrior she’d ever bunked with, assuming they had time once they reached the Horneu. She tried to shrug it off before she met his eyes. It was possible that even if he agreed they would not be able to find an opportunity. She may even be reassigned once they reached the Horneu, as he was now considered a more important target, and her reputation had already bottomed out.
