Love Partner

by Robie Madison

  I want you, he’d told her last night. And suddenly he looked hungry enough to back her up against another wall and help himself. She shuddered under his fierce stare, which was akin to the bolt of lightning that had struck her the first time they’d met.

  Totally mesmerized, she saw the harsh lights, even the docking bay itself, fade, replaced by the proximity of hot breath and hotter bodies. She reached up to steady herself against him, only somehow her hands tangled in the silken copper strands of his hair. They seemed to be alive, twisting around her fingers and she reveled in the almost ticklish sensation across her palms.

  “That’s right, Myrina,” he said, his voice rough and scratchy. “You cannot hide this from me.”

  I’m not trying to hide, she wanted to tell him but couldn’t because maybe it wasn’t true. Maybe she’d spent the last eight years hiding behind her jumpsuit. In her lab. Tucked away from the world. Then again maybe she was just full of psychobabble bullshit.

  “Already I can smell the moisture gathering, waiting for me.”

  She whimpered because this time what he said was true. Whatever arguments she might have with herself, she couldn’t deny the lust that lit up inside her, like a shooting star zooming through the sky, every time she was in close proximity to the Dakokatan.

  He bent his head closer. “What would happen if I touched your pretty nipples, Myrina?”

  She sucked in a breath. His hands were only a millimeter or so away from her bare skin. Please touch me.

  Yet he didn’t, though his hands shook, forcing him to tighten his grip on the cloth of her suit. Taking advantage of the tenuous leash he seemed to have on himself, she brushed her lips against the edge of his blunt chin. He shook his head as if denying the force of her touch, then stopped and nodded, more to himself than her.

  “Just one taste,” he murmured.

  Judan gently rained tiny kisses from one corner of her mouth to the other. Each one promised more, teased her with the expectation that eventually he’d claim her. Yet he worked so slowly, savored each kiss and murmured his pleasure again and again against her mouth. She waited, honestly she did, but she just couldn’t hold back and finally darted her tongue out for a taste of her own. He nipped her lower lip in response. She grinned and nipped back. He growled and counterattacked.

  She’d never dared to be so playful before, so spontaneous. Life had always been too serious to stop just for the fun of it. But this she enjoyed immensely. Especially the unexpected discovery of her feminine powers. She alone had stoked the hunger that consumed him. Barely leashed, the tension that ran like a taut cord through his body was as tangible as the tongue he slid inside her mouth. And each time she responded he couldn’t seem to stop himself from taking more.

  The kiss ended so abruptly, she was sure she would have collapsed to the floor if he hadn’t been holding her up. Then, as suddenly as he’d grabbed her, he released his hold on the jumpsuit. She staggered back two paces, stunned.

  With a calculated grin he eyed her. By now she should have been used to his near constant scrutiny. She wasn’t, even though her body was now partially hidden by the flaps of her suit. She doubted she’d ever feel comfortable being the object of so much attention.

  “Definitely ugly,” he said to no one in particular. “I’ll find you a new outfit.”

  Before she could process his comment, he strolled past her to the hatchway and picked up her duffel bag. Hastily snapping the front of her suit together, she hurried after him. The two tasks weren’t so easily accomplished in tandem though and she left more skin bared than covered.

  “Hey,” she cried indignantly when he opened the bag and pulled out a shirt.

  He ignored her protest and tossed the garment onto the floor. Abandoning her snaps, she dove for the shirt. It was olive green, which definitely clashed with his skin tone. Okay, bad choice for this trip, but it was still one of her favorites.

  “Where’s the little shirt you were wearing last night? And the skirt? I liked them,” he asserted, shaking out another neatly folded garment for inspection. This too was tossed unceremoniously at his feet. A third item of clothing quickly appeared in his hand.

  “None of your business,” she muttered, grabbing her spare jumpsuit in midair. “Now give me my bag.”

  “Not until I find that shirt,” he said, backing away from her groping hands.

  “Judan!”

  This was a damned outrage! And if she let him get away with it, he’d unpack her entire gear because that T-shirt he liked so much was at the bottom of the bag, along with the velvet skirt. They just damn well better not meet any of his crew until she’d cornered him and given him what for. Especially since behind the steadily growing pile of clothes in her arms she was still half exposed. Yet, try as she might, he always managed to stay one step ahead of her. Usually because she was forced to abandon pursuit every few meters or so to retrieve a discarded item. When he rounded his fourth or fifth corner, she sagged against the wall, clutching the bundle of clothes.

  What the effing hell does he think he’s doing? And if he didn’t quit soon, she’d be mad enough to tell him that to his face, edicts about language usage be damned.

  “Myrina?” He sounded as though he were standing right around the corner.

  “Yeah?” She stayed right where she was. No way was she falling for that old trick. Once she looked around that corner he’d be gone again.

  “Come here.”

  “Why? You’d just toss my unmentionables onto the floor and potentially embarrass me in front of your crew.”

  Silence. So much silence, in fact, she got nervous.

  “Judan?”

  “I’m looking.”

  “For what?”

  “One of those ‘unmentionables’.”

  Argh. She shuffled forward and peered around the corner. “Don’t play innocent with me, Judan Ringa.”

  He stood in front of a doorway looking totally unruffled. She wished she could say the same about her current condition.

  “My English is good, Myrina, but you know I sometimes have trouble understanding you. I have never heard of ‘unmentionables’ before,” he said, still peering into her bag. “Do you mean this black lace you forgot to put on this morning?”

  That did it. At the sight of her bra dangling from one of his large hands, she stormed round the corner and followed him straight into a modestly sized bedroom.

  “Oh.”

  The exquisite brushed metal and wood decor brought her up short. A gorgeous, russet-colored bedspread dominated the color scheme of the room offset by a beautifully carved headboard and a pair of matching side tables. Against one wall she spotted an ornate cabinet, to her left a cozy chair next to a floor lamp and to her right a workstation. A shelving unit of sorts stood beside the workstation. Constructed of five slim, floor-to-ceiling metal poles, none of the shelves or cupboards fitted between each pole were lower than waist height—Dakokatan waist height.

  “Welcome to your quarters, Myrina.”

  “My…what?” she stuttered, trying to wrap her mind around what he was saying.

  Fenton had warned her that the Dakokatan had the authority to do what he wanted. Get whom he wanted for a job. Judan also obviously hadn’t had any qualms about doing whatever he had to to get her aboard his ship. No wonder she’d been surprised by how quickly he’d shut off his anger. He hadn’t been angry at her at all. From start to finish the entire episode in the docking bay had been staged.

  “I hope you’ll be comfortable here,” he said.

  “Yeah.” She tried to sound upbeat and failed miserably. “This is…” She hesitated. After last night she hadn’t expected subterfuge or… The man obviously came from a well-connected family and, given the furnishings in this room, not to mention the size of the ship they were on, was filthy, stinking rich to boot. “It’s really elegant.”

  Well crap, why not just spill your guts and tell him the truth. She didn’t do elegant. Or, more correctly, she’d never don
e elegant.

  She’d only just stepped aboard his ship and already she was out of her depth. She walked over to the bed and dumped her armload of clothes on it before hastily snapping her jumpsuit closed. Then she picked up a pair of her pants, methodically shook them free of wrinkles and refolded them. As usual, Judan watched her intently.

  “Elegant is not to your taste?” he finally asked. He spoke slowly, suggesting he’d searched for the correct words.

  She blew out a little breath, shrugged then continued folding her clothes.

  “The ploy to get me aboard your ship worked. You didn’t need to bribe me with this,” she said, waving her hand around to indicate the room. She knew her remark was probably unfair, but she didn’t care. The guest room did seem awfully lavish for a TLC scientist on assignment. Besides, she hated the ease with which he’d been able to use her body against her.

  Last night when she’d surrendered to the zings and pings zipping through her system, she’d thought he was along for the ride. This morning she’d learned the truth. He might have reacted to her, but he now seemed perfectly fine, yet his presence had set off one hell of a shit-disturbance in her body.

  To avoid any further discussion she picked up the pile of clothes she’d folded, turned away and walked over to the cabinet. Judan immediately appeared beside her and, without a word, slid open a drawer for her. Her senses were immediately assailed by a faint odor akin to sandalwood. One she recognized. Inside the drawer, the smooth, light colored wood lining was studded with dark, tiny twiglike shapes.

  “The dark inlay comes from the bark of the alam tree,” he told her. “It’s very common on Dakokata and nearly everyone uses it to scent their clothes.”

  Including you. She nodded and set her pile on one side of the drawer. Uncertain if she was about to make a fool of herself or not, she cleared her throat.

  “So, this.” Again she gestured to indicate the entire room. “These furnishings, they’re standard on Dakokata?”

  Those vivid eyes of his didn’t so much as blink. “Probably above average,” he answered. “But yes, many people have this kind of furniture. It is, how do you say, a point of honor to welcome one’s guests with the best one can afford.”

  Okay, so he answered honestly. But that didn’t excuse his earlier behavior. Or hers, falling for his ploy so easily. They stood in awkward silence—at least it was for her. Her dread of moments like these was one of the many reasons she’d always kept her personal life totally separate from her professional one.

  “Myrina?”

  “Yes.” Now what? Somewhat startled by her thoughts, she realized she was curious rather than annoyed by the fact that she didn’t know what he’d say or ask her next. Suppressing a wry smile, she acknowledged she was becoming accustomed to Dakokatan ways, or at least this Dakokatan’s way.

  “Why do you call your underclothes unmentionables?” he asked.

  Well crap. Half embarrassed, half ashamed, for the second time in as many days she felt a warm glow of a blush creep up her neck.

  Might as well tell him the truth. It wasn’t as if she could keep her past hidden much longer anyway. Heck, if he’d done any kind of background check on her—and why wouldn’t he if he expected her to save all those people—he’d know most of it already.

  With a casual shrug she said, “One of the matrons in the orphanage was very straitlaced. She used all sorts of euphemisms to avoid certain subjects and words.”

  And right now she couldn’t think of a single one to describe what Judan had done to get her onto his ship.

  “Don’t overanalyze what happened, Myrina.”

  Annoyed, she glared at him. “What are you now, a mind reader? How do you know what I’m feeling? What I’m thinking? That I even care about what you did?”

  Abruptly she swung away from him, cutting off her words before she said too much. Revealed too much.

  “No, I can’t read your mind, only your face. It is very expressive, Myrina, and shows me what is going on inside that head of yours. Right now it assures me there’s been a misunderstanding.”

  Refusing to look at him, she shook her head. “I don’t think so. You needed me on your ship and you found a way to get me here. Good for you.”

  “I used the clothes to distract you.”

  “Like I said, it worked.” She took one step forward only to feel his hand on her arm holding her back.

  “Myrina, you were never in any danger of meeting the crew and being embarrassed.”

  “That’s good to know.” A sharp, matter-of-fact statement. It didn’t ease the stiffness in her spine to know that he really had planned the whole charade, right down to commanding his crew to stay out of the way.

  “Is it? You don’t sound too happy.”

  “I’m on a ship about to head out into deep space to visit a hostile planet, what do you think?” Sarcasm, as her friend Sonora Austen loved to point out, was her usual last stand of defense against anyone who tried to push her too far too fast. Even the Dakokatan couldn’t miss her acerbic tone and fail to understand.

  “I think it would be nice,” he said gently, his thumb caressing her arm through the sturdy fabric of the jumpsuit, “if you didn’t…slam the door in my face every time I take one step forward with you. Yes, I distracted you. But everything else between us was quite real.”

  Disconcerted by his continued insights, she instinctively wanted to pull away. To protect herself. Yet his words reminded her too sharply of her psychiatrist.

  By mutual choice she hadn’t seen Dr. Smith in four years. Despite the anxiety attacks and the nightmares that still haunted the fringes of her dreams, she’d needed to move on, to be on her own and Dr. Smith had concurred, with one piece of advice—Myrina, make sure you have a door somewhere along those walls you’ve built to protect yourself. You need the walls now to keep you safe but one day you might want a way out.

  At the time she’d heard the words, but the message hadn’t meant anything to her beyond the usual cryptic statements Dr. Smith uttered at the end of a session. Yet Judan had just said she’d slammed a door in his face, so maybe she had listened after all. A door meant she could open it and at least invite him in, even if she herself wasn’t ready to leave the safety of her walls just yet.

  “So,” she said, facing him at last with a lighter heart and a teasing grin playing at the corners of her mouth. “Do you usually go to this much trouble to get your lovers aboard your ship?”

  “Never,” he said, catching her in a fierce embrace.

  With a yelp, she wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself. When she tilted her head to look at him, his brilliant eyes shimmered with pleasure and the unmistakable glint of desire. A fact confirmed by the bulge pressing against her abdomen.

  “I have never brought a lover aboard my ship. You are the first.”

  Heady words that made her want to ask if she’d be the last.

  Slow down. Take your time. Enjoy him.

  Sensible advice for a woman who didn’t believe in moving too fast.

  “I want you, Myrina.”

  The silky smooth texture of his copper hair beckoned to her. She adjusted her hold on him, entwining her fingers around one of the braids to play with the beads that held it fast. His long hair softened the harsh planes of his face, but this up close and personal she could study his features to her heart’s content. His face was more square than oval, his cheekbones high enough to cast shadows in a certain light, making him look more severe than he was. He had a proud, intelligent face and his eyes didn’t miss much. Nor did they seem capable of lying.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll trust you a little.”

  Big words and a bigger risk.

  His eyes flared with pure masculine triumph. Last night he’d asked for her trust. And while she’d surrendered to his touch and then taken his hand when he’d walked her home, she’d never made any promises. Until right now.

  She didn’t do nebulous time frames or relationships, yet she’d
just committed herself to a non-affair affair with this man. It didn’t make any sense. She didn’t make any sense. And frankly she didn’t care.

  Before she could pull him down for a kiss, his hand slid up her back to cradle her head, holding it steady for his mouth. That subtle smell of alam bark, mixed with the masculine scent that was Judan’s alone, was as powerful as any tekurilite candle. And his kiss… It was neither teasing nor tempting nor slow seduction. His tongue plunged deep inside her mouth until their breaths mingled and fused, sustaining them both during his bold invasion.

  Only she had no intention of being swept away on the tide of his passion. He might have accepted her invitation, but she was the one who had opened the door.

  Obviously, Judan Ringa was a powerful man, one used to storming in and taking what he wanted. And while his dominance attracted her, she knew enough about herself to recognize that if he didn’t surrender at least part of himself when they met like this, then she could never respect him. And never totally surrender to his control.

  By now his other hand was firmly holding her ass, pressing her body along the rigid length of his erection. Their tongues tangled, then hers brushed the edge of his teeth before it stole deeper inside his mouth. His low groan convinced her that this counterattack had evened the playing field.

  Yet while their tongues dueled with each other, eventually blocking out rational thought and consuming her senses, their bodies remained locked in stasis. As if they were both afraid that this time, if they took it too far, they wouldn’t be able to stop.

  Abruptly, as though by mutual consent, the kiss ended and they pulled away from each other, panting. His eyes had turned predatory and his hair swirled and snapped aggressively. That now familiar tingle she’d felt when they’d first met was back, sending a wave of goose bumps across her skin. Exhilarated, her entire body felt alive.

  “This is dangerous,” he said.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “I should get to the bridge.”

  “Yes.”

  This pretense at a normal conversation was idiotic, yet it was the safest thing she could think of doing. “Where’s my equipment?”