by Shea Malloy
He filled a glass with the blue liquid and brought it to her. Jillian sat up, glad to have her hands cleaned. A shower would be nice, but perhaps later.
“Eat,” he ordered, handing her the bowl next. Jillian eyed the goo with distrust but mumbled a quiet thank you as she brought the bowl to her lips. Some food, however disgusting it looked, was better than nothing. After all, they were trapped on a planet with no visible vegetation in sight.
Jillian drank down the goo quickly, filling the hunger she hadn’t realized existed until now. All she had to do was pretend it was oatmeal. It had a grainy texture and bland taste but at least it wasn’t horrible. When she was done, Jonnar took the empty bowl from her hands and returned with a glass of water. She drank it gratefully, closing her eyes in bliss on her last sip. Never had water tasted so sweet.
Opening her eyes, she found Jonnar sitting beside her, studying her.
“Uh… thanks for taking care of me,” she said, suddenly shy as she handed him the empty glass. “I feel a lot better now.”
“Good.” He nodded and set the glass on the floor. “Now rest.”
Jillian frowned. “You know, I was just about to say you’d make a great nurse, but the bossiness would definitely have to go.”
A dark look ghosted over his face before he covered it with a smile.
“In my experience, one must have a controlling nature to be a nursemaid. Patients are often unnecessarily stubborn to taking good advice.”
“What if I’m not tired? You can’t make me sleep if I don’t want to.” He was right, of course. She was being stubborn. Despite the meal, she felt lethargic and her whole body had this ache she couldn’t identify. She needed sleep. But she hated the idea of being unaware of her surroundings.
Jonnar leaned closer. “Jillian, it is not only for your sake you need to rest. You are with child.”
But for how long? How I do know that’s true?
“I understand that, but those men outside want to hurt us,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “And the last time I fell asleep and woke up, the Elder was dead. I don’t want to fall asleep this time and find you gone too.”
He put a hand on the back of her neck, holding her attention with his touch as much as his gaze.
“You do not need to fear them. I am here and I will protect you and our child with my life.”
She licked her bottom lip slowly, her insides suddenly filling with fluttery things and her heart squeezing with amazement.
Our child.
She’d yet to consider it from that angle. She was possibly carrying Jonnar’s baby. Jillian moved her hand over her stomach, terrified of the sliver of excitement that raced through her. She shouldn’t feel this way, shouldn’t want the baby’s existence to be real. Excitement was bad. It was the ultimate destruction. But her traitorous heart believed otherwise.
“It is good to fear,” he continued, “but only enough to be cognizant of danger. To fear the danger itself leads to inaction. Then death.”
Jillian smiled, her anxiety soothed by the balm of Jonnar’s confidence. She was being silly. She had nothing to worry about when she had a powerful man like him by her side.
“Spoken like a true military man.”
He returned her smile but did not respond. He didn’t drop his gaze and he didn’t relinquish his hold on the back of her neck either. His thumb played along her skin, every slide of his finger sending little shivers down her spine and straight to her core.
Then he dipped his head. Slowly. Intentions clear. His eyes still on hers as if he was waiting for even a blink from her as a sign that he should stop what he was about to do. Jillian remained completely still. Even her breathing had stopped. Only her heart slammed loudly in her chest. Some voice in her head told her to end this before it even began, but Jillian ignored it. Instead, she closed her eyes in satisfaction when Jonnar’s lips finally touched hers.
She sank her fingers into the front of his flight suit and kissed him back, revelling in his groan when she courageously swiped her tongue along his bottom lip. His grip tightened on the back of her neck as he surrounded her body with his other arm. He pulled her up against him in a possessive grip and slanted his head so he could deepen their kiss.
Jillian moaned into his mouth when his tongue caressed hers for the first time. She squeezed her thighs together, overwhelmed by the force of arousal that hit her core. She felt as though she’d waited for this moment all her life, and it was everything she’d expected it to be, only more—a million times better.
His mouth dominated hers and his tongue attacked hers and she returned his attentions with as much fervour. There was nothing chaste or exploratory about their first kiss. It was all raw, pent-up passion, threatening to swallow them whole in this small room.
Then Jonnar broke their kiss, pushing her back by her upper arms so she could sit on her own again, releasing her like she’d become hot lava. He launched to his feet and was by the door so fast, it made Jillian’s head spin.
“Get some rest,” he said, his voice gravelly.
And he was gone without a backward glance.
—
Sleep came a lot easier than Jillian expected.
One moment she was lying awake, reliving the kiss she’d shared with Jonnar in her head, the next, she was plagued by nightmares of deadly explosions and monsters that wanted to eat her alive.
She slept fitfully until she awoke at some point and refused to go back to sleep. She stared up at the metallic ceiling of the ship, wondering how it was possible she felt more tired than before she’d fallen asleep.
Jillian sat up, discomforted by the absolute silence and her unpleasant dreams. Where was Jonnar? She swung her legs to the floor and pushed to her feet. Then she heard voices. But they were too muffled for her to catch their words. Even if she could hear them perfectly, she wouldn’t understand a thing, anyway. The Omar language was challenging enough, let alone the harsh, guttural sounds the rat-men spoke.
She left the room and made her way in the direction of the voices. This time, she heeded Jonnar’s advice and stayed on the ship. She followed a path she’d never taken before until it opened up into a circular room. A table sat in the centre with six chairs surrounding it. Pressed against the walls were S-shaped counters, and on top of the surfaces were different machines.
Jillian’s gaze shifted between what looked like an advanced kettle and the cupboards above the counters. A galley, then. Maybe there were far more palatable things to eat here than that goo Jonnar had given her earlier today.
Or was it yesterday?
How much time had passed since she fell asleep?
The voices were clearer here. She was relieved one of them belonged to Jonnar, and he didn’t sound distressed or angry.
Resolving to wait for his return, Jillian sat at the table. Previous experience taught her that if she went outside to find him, she’d hear no end about her ‘reckless and disobedient ways.’
She blew out a breath, propped her elbows on the table’s smooth surface, and rubbed her forehead. Tension tightened her shoulders and left her agitated, increasing her bad mood. This was the pits. What was she going to do? She was stranded on some strange planet among untrustworthy people for who knew how long, with no apparent way to leave.
Sure, she had Jonnar protecting her. That lessened her worry to an extent. But what about her family? They were probably worried about her absence. Megan had figured out something had gone wrong by now, right? Communication between Earth and Omaron took a while, but by now, Megan would be alarmed she hadn’t received a video message that she’d arrived home safely.
And to cap this total mess—she was possibly pregnant.
Jillian ran her fingers through her hair and stared blankly at her blurry reflection in the table’s dull surface. Irrational anger burned in her chest for Jonnar’s actions before it was tempered by the reminder of his and the Elder’s sacrifice. She remembered Jonnar’s words, how he said she was ungrateful. But she had
every right to feel upset, didn’t she? Even if they did it to save her life, she’d been robbed of choice.
She heard a thump, then the sound of footsteps approaching. Jillian raised her head. She hoped it was Jonnar because it meant it wasn’t anyone out to harm her. But she wasn’t sure she could face him right now. Her emotions were all over the place, and there was that kiss he ran away from. She had a suspicion he’d apologize for doing it, which was the last thing she wanted to hear. That he regretted it.
Just as she considered hiding away somewhere, Jonnar entered the room. His gaze found hers, rooting her where she sat. Jillian breathed in slowly. Some people had this presence. When they were around, everyone felt it. Everyone knew and gravitated to them. They didn’t even have to say a word. Jonnar was one of those types of people. He filled a room and touched everyone with his inescapable presence.
The memory of their kiss flooded her brain, heated her skin. She remembered his taste, his touch, the need for him that still burned between her legs.
“You need more rest,” he said, breaking her lurid thoughts as he approached.
“Probably,” she said, spreading her fingers on the table and letting out a deep breath. “But unless your impressive skillset includes magicking away bad dreams, I’m not going back to sleep right now.”
The corners of his lips curved into a sexy, knowing smile. His blue-violet eyes shimmered with a suggestive look.
“I’m sure there are ways I can assist.”
Jillian peered at him, amazed. What the hell? Was he flirting with her even though right after they’d kissed he’d behaved as though it had been a terrible mistake?
“Oh, really?” She folded her arms beneath her breasts and leaned back in her seat. “Does it look a little similar to what I caught you doing to that woman the other night?”
He sank into a seat on the opposite side of the table, regarding her with a small smile.
“Every moment I spend with you, I’m reminded how wrong I was about your personality.”
Jillian bit her lips together, uncertain she wanted to know what he meant, but waiting for him to continue anyway.
“You are not as reserved as I’d thought.” He leaned forward, his eyes brimming with amusement. “Eyeste toruc sukaya.”
“What does that mean? If that was some kind of Omaron insult I have a few Earth ones I can retaliate with, you know.”
Jonnar laughed. “It means ‘you are a little spitfire.’ You have a retort for everything. You are blunt.” His smile deepened, becoming infectious. Jillian fought to keep hers at bay, but she couldn’t help the twitch at the corners of her lips.
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
“It is. I like it very much.” Then he relaxed in his seat, looking chagrined. “Perhaps a bit too much. I should not have kissed you.”
Jillian’s smile vanished, replaced by a frown. Here we go. Just as she’d expected.
“Is this the part where you tell me how much you regretted what happened, Jonnar?” Jillian got to her feet, ready to run back to her room. “Because I’d appreciate it if we skipped that bit.”
Jonnar reached for her hand, holding her in place as he rose to his feet as well.
He shook his head. “I have no regrets. If given the chance I would do it again… and more.” His voice softened, and his heated gaze fell to her lips. He ran his hand along her arm idly, the simple touch leaving a trail of goosebumps on her flesh. In that moment, all of Jillian wished he’d make good on his words. “But it is unwise for us to act on our attraction, Jillian. It will complicate matters. We are unsuited for each other.”
Jillian bit her lip. “Why? Because I’m a human?”
“Because you are good and I…” He furrowed his eyebrows as he dropped his hand. “I am not.”
Buoyed by his roundabout admission he was attracted to her, Jillian touched his chest. He was clearly plagued by some inner demons, but they’d cross that bridge when—or if—they came to it.
“Well, guess what? It doesn’t matter. You said I’m having your baby. So, whether you like it or not, buddy, you’re stuck with me.”
8
Jonnar
—
Thanks to the stored database and map on his ship, Jonnar calculated they had crash-landed on a diminutive rock called Pheor.
Mostly covered in red rock and dust, it had no inhabitants save for a range of creatures. Just as Jonnar had suspected, the scanner’s readings reported Pheor’s degeneration and instability.
Most concerning was the scanner’s calculation of the rising temperature of the planet’s core, building toward a destructive explosion. And that was if the earthquakes didn’t kill them first.
Arms folded across his chest, Jonnar glared at the missing chunk of his stabilizer and the mangled, burnt out thruster. He’d done his best patching up the tear in the ship, but even a rookie could see he’d need entirely new material to fix the rest of the damage.
“That looks beyond what these tools can do,” said Jillian. She was kneeling beside his toolkit, chewing the corner of her lip as she eyed the thruster. In the few days they’d spent on this planet, he’d learned enough about her various expressions to know her mind was whirring, searching for ways to fix this new problem.
He’d ordered her to stay on board and rest. She’d taken his advice for one day, then proclaimed boredom would kill her if she didn’t occupy herself. A familiar sentiment. He’d heard it so often from his maiya many years ago.
Before the sickness had robbed her independence completely.
Jonnar frowned, pushing the thoughts of his mother out of his mind. The less than pleasant memories should be buried with her, but they plagued him at random moments.
He followed her movements as she reorganized his toolkit. Even though his telekinesis would have served him better, he let her pass him the tools he needed as he made repairs.
Jonnar admired her strength and her staunch belief that they would find a way out of this declining situation. Every time he looked at her, he’d think about the taste of her lips, the way her soft body had pressed so willingly against his. Even now, he wanted to haul her up to her feet and claim her mouth all over again.
She wore one of his flight suits, her small frame swallowed by the large attire. She’d tied her hair back, but a few strands had escaped, brushing her forehead and cheeks as she hunched over the toolkit. He preferred her hair free and falling around her shoulders. He also preferred the form-fitting trousers she’d worn at the start of their journey.
Most of all, he preferred the fantasy in his head of her lying under him, all that gorgeous chestnut hair splayed behind her head, her supple, naked flesh shivering with pleasure beneath his touch…
“I need material,” Jonnar said, returning his stare to the damage before him. While evicting his inappropriate thoughts seemed impossible, distracting himself with the present helped. “I do not have enough scrap in storage left.” He rubbed his chin, thinking aloud. “I can fix one or the other. Not both.”
She straightened, resting her weight on the backs of her legs.
“But isn’t that the thing that makes us… you know… go?” she said, pointing at the thruster. “That’s the most important one, in my opinion.”
Jonnar nodded, wiping away the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Even though the sun was weak, the unending heat on this planet clawed at his skin. He longed for a shower. A proper one with water. Not the chemical sanitizer they were forced to use to preserve the water on board the ship.
“True, but stability is also important. I will not have enough directional control. We will fly off course and endanger ourselves further.”
“You won’t have enough, but you’ll still have some.” Jillian got to her feet and brushed away the red dust from her knees. “I think we’ll be fine if we’re careful.”
“And I know we will suffer. You do not have flight training or familiarity with the dangers of space.”
A small crease
formed between her eyebrows, her bright blue eyes flashing. Annoyance. Unexpected satisfaction thrilled him. He was not a man who enjoyed being argued with. Most of the time—well, all of the time, to be frank—what he said was treated as law and nobody disobeyed or questioned him lest they faced the consequences. But Jillian was different. She challenged him without fear. And though her defiance infuriated him at times, her sharp wit more than made up for it.
His toruc sukaya didn’t disappoint.
“No, but I run my own business and I know when to take risks instead of twiddling my thumbs over the what-ifs. Aren’t you the one that said it’s okay to be aware of danger but not to fear it?”
She folded her arms, highlighting the plump curves of her breasts. Jonnar felt himself hardening, so he shifted his stance to hide it. He was about to retort when a soft laugh nearby drew their attention. The Dava male—Kess, he’d called himself a few days ago—had approached at some point. So caught up with Jillian, Jonnar had dropped his guard, ignoring everything else but her.
Gods be damned. Furious with himself, Jonnar yanked Jillian behind him telekinetically. She squealed, waving her hands to balance herself.
“The human is intelligent as she is amusing,” Kess said with a smirk as he raised his empty hands in a sign of peace.
“He speaks English too!” Jillian whispered behind him.
Indeed. Jonnar was just as surprised. It furthered his suspicion there was more to Kess than being a comrade to Muridian pirates. Nevertheless, it didn’t decrease Jonnar’s distrust of him. After all, their brief chat yesterday had revealed the reason for the man and his beastly friends’ existence on Pheor. It was the result of a hasty getaway from Union officers.
“What do you want?” Jonnar asked, his tone cool yet not unfriendly. He scanned the area, satisfied no Muridians lurked about.
“I have a solution to your problem,” said Kess. But whatever he was going to say next was drowned out by the thundering rumble of another earthquake.
Habit kicked in. They scattered from the ship, Kess running in a completely different direction from them. The once stable ground rocked and shifted beneath their feet. New cracks formed around them, some widening into deep grooves as the earthquake strengthened.
