“Hey, watch it, you two!” a voice shouted. Myrina. He prayed she had the sense to stay clear.
Neither he nor his brother moved. Jarred by the blow, for an instant they simply stood facing each other gulping air into their lungs.
His brother grabbed hold of Judan’s shirt with both hands. Only then did Judan’s instincts take over. Before Vand could use the cloth as leverage to smash Judan against the counter again, Judan hooked his foot behind his brother’s. One swift yank and Vand’s leg flew out from under him, toppling them both to the floor. They rolled, Vand’s extra height and bulk giving him the initial advantage. A healthy shot of adrenaline mixed with the sexual high from his encounter with Myrina, though, gave Judan the strength to overpower his brother. By the time he’d pinned Vand to the floor beneath him, they were both breathing hard.
“Stop!” a voice yelled above him.
Stay back, he wanted to warn her, but the words didn’t form fast enough. A pair of slim hands grabbed his arm and tugged.
“Stop, I said!”
Sure enough, when he took his eyes off Vand a second later and turned, he looked straight into a blazing pair of pale green eyes. His Little Warrior knelt beside him and she was furious.
“Get back,” he ordered.
“No.”
She defied him without hesitation and tugged harder, even though both he and Vand outweighed her by more than a few pauns. He couldn’t risk having her hurt, so he let go. Shoving himself up off the floor, he rose, pulling Myrina to safety with him. His brother still lay on the ground staring at them both in open-mouthed shock.
Vand swallowed and nodded at Myrina. “Is she always like that?” he asked.
“Yes,” Judan said.
“Like what?” Myrina demanded, looking from one brother to another. “Level-headed, non-pugilistic and intelligible? I realize you’re both speaking English, but would one of you mind telling me what in the—” She paused and gave Judan one of her level-headed looks. “What is going on?”
“Vand blames me for Lorre’s death.”
Silence. While Myrina contemplated his revelation, Vand averted his gaze and scrambled to his feet. So Judan had guessed correctly then. An impotent rage welled up inside him, burning his gut and he clenched his fists in frustration. It was one thing to carry the burden inside himself, it was another to learn that his brother also blamed him.
“So that’s what you believe?” Myrina finally said. He sensed a rock-hard core beneath her quiet, almost calmly spoken words. Almost immediately she gave him a dismissive waved of her hand. “Forget I asked.”
Instead she pierced Vand with a no-nonsense stare. “Perhaps you’d care to explain where you got such a dumb-ass idea that Judan killed your brother.”
Despite the seriousness of the accusation, Judan bit back a grin. Her earthy sayings were, he guessed, a product of her upbringing and she tended to use them when, like now, she was in full warrior mode.
“Vand?” he prompted.
“Lorre would still be alive if he hadn’t left the planet,” Vand said.
“So?” Myrina asked as if his statement of fact were inconsequential.
Judan flexed the fingers on one hand, but the action did nothing to release the tension. How could she so easily trivialize Vand’s words when he’d told himself the very same thing every day since Lorre’s death? His brother didn’t appear any happier with her apparent indifference.
“I was serving aboard the reconnaissance vessel sent to investigate the crisis on Hitani. We were handling the situation just fine when the Ktua decided we needed help from the big guns and Judan arrived on the scene.”
“The Ktua?” Myrina asked with a glance in Judan’s direction. “But I thought you were a Ktua.”
“The word is both singular and collective. Although ‘Warlord’ is the English translation, it more accurately means ‘Chieftain’,” he explained. “The Ktua is the governing body in Dakokata. And yes, they voted to send a representative to rendezvous with the reconnaissance vessel. Even before Lorre’s death many people were worried we couldn’t handle the situation and get the Outposters off the planet safely.” He paused. Not once during the emergency meetings had anyone questioned whether the proposed evacuation strategy would cause far worse repercussions than the illnesses the Outposters were already dealing with.
Myrina nodded, then turned back to Vand. “So what happened?”
“Big brother happened. Our ship was orbiting Hitani. Another Outposter was scheduled to deliver the medical data-chip to us, but Judan asked Lorre to come aboard instead.” As he talked, Vand’s voice lost its sarcastic edge and ended up sounding slightly bewildered. Judan felt a small pang of compassion. They’d never talked about what happened. About the choices each of them had made.
“We rarely had a chance to meet these last few years,” Judan said. In the midst of a crisis he’d manufactured an opportunity for three of the four Ringa brothers to be together—and paid the price. Was his admission now a way to rationalize his own actions or seek forgiveness?
“I can’t believe this,” Myrina said. “Neither of you could predict the Outposters would die if they left the planet. It’s not exactly a common consequence. Illness, yes. Devastating environmental impact on indigenous species, definitely. Death, only very rarely.”
Vand leaned against the nearby counter and crossed his arms, but he wouldn’t meet Myrina’s stern glare.
“He would still be alive.” His whispered words sounded like a plea.
“Quite possibly,” Myrina said. “There are no guarantees in this business. But if that other man had died, would you feel any better about it now? Carry less of a burden? Feel less of a responsibility?”
She glanced between them and shook her head. “I don’t believe that. Of either of you.”
An awkward silence descended upon them. For his own part, Judan couldn’t so easily shake off the burden of responsibility. And yet, Myrina’s professional and unbiased opinion brought some perspective to his view of the day Lorre died. Lorre had eagerly accepted his suggestion to bring the data-chip himself. To visit with his two brothers, despite his crippling pain and the uncertainty on Hitani. Even the top scientists among the Outposters hadn’t guessed the tragic results of his visit. How could he?
He felt the light touch of Myrina’s hand on his arm and he looked down at her. Behind the concern, he caught a glimpse of the softness he’d seen earlier when he’d held her in his arms. She glanced quickly in Vand’s direction before standing on tiptoe. He bent forward, ignoring his brother’s glum expression.
“Grief can do funny things to people,” she said. “Cut yourself some slack.”
Her low-pitched voice sounded as if she spoke from experience and he wondered again about the incident eight years ago. He understood her idiomatic turn of phrase perfectly. But, until the other seventy-seven Outposters were off Hitani, he had no intention of cutting himself any slack. They were his responsibility.
“I’ll handle it,” he said.
She sighed, but didn’t argue the point. “Okay, then. I better check the GCS and see if it’s still running the simulation.”
Before she could walk away, Judan reached out and threaded his fingers through her hair. She let out a yelp of surprise when he hauled her to within inches of his face, her hands reaching across the space between them to steady herself against his chest. Her touch sent a wave of heat storming through his body, but he tried to ignore the reaction.
Bestowing a chaste kiss on her forehead, he whispered for her ears alone, “I admire your warrior spirit, Myrina. I don’t wish to tame it, but if you ever try to break up a fight again you will answer to me.”
Myrina’s eyes first went wide with pleasure, then darkened with a touch of indignation before settling to a soft shimmer. She swallowed hard, but kept her chin up and her eyes on his face.
“When I was growing up I’d have given my soul for a brother or a sister to stand with me. You’ve already lost one bro
ther, Judan. I…I didn’t want to see you lose another.”
“By the Third Moon, I am doing my best not to,” he said, amazed by her loyalty to a relationship she’d only ever imagined. “In the meantime, stay out of a fight. I will keep you safe.”
Together he and Vand left the lab. At the door, however, Vand paused and turned back.
“Myrina,” he said.
She was, he noted, already retrieving and restarting her machine. When she turned, her brow was lined in concentration. “What?”
“I’m sorry for barging into the lab.”
Her face lit up in pleased surprise and she smiled at him. In Judan’s opinion, though, his brother still had a long way to go to deserve such a reward. To emphasize that fact, he pinned Vand against the wall no more than two steps beyond the lab.
“Do not ever disrespect her again,” he growled.
“She accepted my apology. She understood.”
More false bravado. Judan wasn’t in the mood. He felt raw. I’ll handle it. How? By slamming his brother against the wall. He released Vand and stepped back.
“You are now serving aboard my ship, Vand. I suggest you tread carefully from now on.”
Vand pushed himself away from the wall and paced down the hall, putting some distance between them. He wheeled back to face Judan.
“I sometimes go in and talk to him, you know.”
Judan hadn’t known, but he wasn’t surprised. Vand had shared a room with Lorre when they were growing up. According to their mother, the two boys had spent more time talking to each other than sleeping at night.
Vand gave a helpless gesture, then slumped against the nearest wall. Despite the mess his own emotions were in, Judan recognized the confrontation in the lab had released Vand’s pent-up feelings. He walked over and hunched down beside his brother. For a long time neither of them spoke, but it felt good to sit together.
“I blamed you so I wouldn’t have to blame myself,” Vand said.
“What are you talking about?” Judan seriously regretted not talking to Vand sooner. It had been a mistake to keep his own grief to himself. Neither of them had coped well and with each day the pain had shifted like a sand dune, widening the distance between them.
“I talked him into becoming an Outposter. You’d left to become a Ktua and I…I wanted a brother out here with me.”
Judan nodded. Despite the bond between all four brothers, he and Wyn, the eldest, were both fiercely independent. Even Lorre, the youngest in the family, had chosen his own path as soon as he was old enough to leave home. Vand was the one who craved the company of his brothers, who lamented the loss of their weekly visits when they would climb the hill at the back of the house and sit like this and talk. It was precisely because Judan knew how Vand felt that he’d suggested Lorre come aboard the reconnaissance vessel.
He stood and offered a hand to his brother. The Three Sisters twisted fate to suit their purpose. Perhaps he’d been foolish to visit the shrine of the Third Moon without proper guidance. He’d offered his gift, one of great personal value, and asked for what he most wanted. But, like his daydreams of Rakanasmara, not once had he thought of the consequences of his prayer.
He didn’t believe in the random coincidence of events. If the Outposters hadn’t been in trouble, if Lorre hadn’t died, he never would have gone to TLC in search of Myrina. In his efforts to create a family through Rakanasmara had he unwittingly destroyed the family he already had?
“Myrina was right,” he said. “Neither of us could have predicted what happened. Lorre’s death wasn’t anybody’s fault.”
It was time to heal the rift between them. To leave their regrets in the past. To mourn Lorre and move on. He had seventy-seven Outposters to save and a woman to “win”.
“I have to get to the bridge,” he said. “You’d better get to work, too.” He turned away and started walking down the corridor.
“Judan.”
He turned back. “Yes.”
“I…I was as shocked as the rest of the crew when you came back from your meeting with the Foreign Affairs Director without your wig on. I don’t understand how it’s possible, but now that I’ve met her… I’m glad you found Myrina deCarte. She is worthy of a Ktua.”
Judan shook his head. Vand still had much to learn. As did he. This was no longer about him and his needs. He saw that plainly now. In Myrina, the Third Moon had sent him another orphan. A fact he’d discovered when he’d researched Myrina’s personal history. The knowledge that she’d been abandoned and been forced to live out her childhood in a Confederacy-run orphanage horrified him. Small wonder she was wary of placing her trust in others.
How would he teach her to trust him? More importantly, how would he set about making her believe he could be trusted? That he would protect her, as was his duty. That he would give her a son and any other children she wanted. Children who would have the security of the Ringa family name.
“My status doesn’t matter, Vand. My only wish is that I prove worthy of being her life partner.”
Chapter Eight
The lights in the guest suite were turned low. From her position in the middle of the bed, her arms wrapped around her knees, Myrina surveyed the unfamiliar shadows.
She’d been sitting like this for at least an hour. A retreat of sorts from the lab and her work and the empty corridors. For all she’d seen of the rest of the crew since the midday meal, the Speedlite might as well be a ghost ship. The vessel echoed with emptiness and urgency. A strange mix, which made her restless and had finally forced her to retreat. At least here she could call the dark corners her own. And by the time the environmental controls signaled the start of a new day, the shadows wouldn’t hold any secrets.
She sincerely wished she could say the same about the data she’d downloaded onto the GCS. After Judan and Vand had left the lab, she’d sat for hours reviewing charts, comparing stats and running a few more preliminary simulations.
Nada. Zip. Zilch.
Day one done and she had more questions than answers. Even the few answers she’d found had only led to more questions. The one angle she’d confirmed was a link to Dakokatan genetics. She’d found markers predisposing most of the Outposters to the illnesses they’d subsequently contracted. But even with a map of Dakokatan DNA, it could take her a long time to work through the double helix and pinpoint the marker that had triggered the planet’s malevolent reaction.
She glanced at the door. Although Judan had dropped by the lab a couple of times, there’d been no repetition of the intimacy they’d shared earlier. With the mission underway, both of them had instinctively pulled back and gotten down to business.
That hadn’t stopped her from replaying every glance, every touch and most definitely their kisses. They’d shared three so far today and each one had left her mildly disoriented and majorly horny. During his so-called scientific experiment, comparing self-talk therapy against his kisses, Judan’s technique had won hands down.
But it wasn’t just the kiss itself that was compelling. It was the man. He honestly seemed to view her anxiety attacks as a problem she struggled with rather than an impediment to her job or her competency at it. Absently, she rubbed her arm and smiled. What’s more, he seemed determined to help her. With kisses. A strangely endearing quality for a Warlord politician to have.
She scrubbed her hands through her hair, massaging her scalp. She needed to turn her mind off, let her subconscious or maybe even her unconscious take over for a while and work on the Hitani puzzle. She needed to…look at the door.
She was going to feel awfully foolish if she was wrong, except she didn’t think she was. Wrong.
“Aren’t you going to come in?” she called out.
The door slid open and Judan Ringa stepped inside.
Immediately, the temperature in the room shot up a couple of degrees. Felt like it, anyway, because there he stood in his leggings and his boots. His shirt was open, flashing her an expansive view of his broad chest. And, surro
unding him like some halo-effect, his coppery hair danced in the slight breeze made when the door swished close behind him.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hello, Myrina. I knew you wouldn’t be asleep.”
How had he known?
She’d told him—one throwaway line when he’d mentioned his eldest brother’s anxiety attacks. “Lucky him, he can sleep.” And he’d remembered. Pretty impressive.
“So you decided to drop in and distract me, huh.”
“Yes.”
She was a little stunned by his bluntness. Not that she’d expected him to be coy, exactly. She just hadn’t thought he’d be this focused. But one look at him told her he was most definitely focused. On her.
She scrambled to her knees and the sheet fell away, baring her legs. He sucked in his breath, the sound echoing in the quiet room. For the longest time they simply stared at each other. Neither spoke and yet the communication between them was as electrifying as a bolt of lightning in a storm.
His eyes bore into hers and her lips parted in anticipation of another kiss. Her breathing slowed, matching her own lazy perusal of his bared torso, straight down to the waistband of his leggings. About the time her eyes fastened on the thick erection straining against his leggings, his fingers flexed. Her breasts tightened, aching for his touch. And, when he shifted slightly, her pussy clenched.
A wicked sense of delight zigzagged up her spine and then back down again.
Nothing would distract me more than to distract him.
Crooking her finger, she beckoned.
He came. Slowly, steadily and perhaps wisely, considering her sudden mood, with a wary expression on his face. He stopped less than an arm’s reach from the end of the bed.
Close enough.
Shoving the silky sheets aside, she crawled forward, without once breaking eye contact. The muscles along his jawline clenched, his laser green eyes riveted on her body. Her lips parted and she caught her breath.
She enjoyed being the sole focus of his attention. Enjoyed knowing her body teased and tantalized him. Since meeting this man, she’d definitely developed a rare streak of impetuosity where he was concerned. She was not a gambler by nature—look how long she’d managed to avoid field duty. For her, life had proven to be a big enough gamble without actively seeking risks. Yet some unseen force inside her yearned to take just such a chance. Perhaps because he always made her aware of herself as a woman. His woman. Even this afternoon in the lab when they’d acted all business, the knowledge had been there between them.
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