I smile softly. “Everything they need is right there in their home.”
“Exactly.”
My heavy eyes start to flutter closed as he runs his free hand over my head, warming me, and I force them open again. I release his other hand but keep my eyes locked on his. Everything about this man mesmerizes and overwhelms me. I want to be the woman he dreams of, but the pressure of failing him and hurting him like his young wife, or that stupid cat, is enough to break me. Time is also not on our side.
“How much longer?” I whisper. “Until we get to Clyvorn.”
“Six to eight days,” he whispers back.
“No.” I tense, my eyes pleading with his. “Don’t go. Just…let them have the planet.”
Half of his mouth pulls up. “It’s our job to keep everyone safe.”
“They don’t appreciate it,” I murmur. “People take everything for granted. They don’t care who’s dying for them to live.” I want to cry all over again at the unfairness of it all. What these men are risking. How much the rest of the universe doesn’t know. “They should be celebrating you. Thanking you.” My words are coming out breathy with sleepiness.
The back of his finger strokes my cheek. “It doesn’t matter. We don’t do it for the glory. Let them live in happy ignorance.”
I huff through my nose.
“Rest now. Don’t worry about breakfast in the morning. We can fend for ourselves.” With that reassurance, my body overrides my mind, drifting to sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I’m chilly when I wake the next morning, and I know what that means. Temps are lowered on the ship when the men do heavy sparring and physical training. My head gives a throb and I glance over at the glass of tonic on my bedside table. I can’t help the smile that comes to me knowing he left it. I’m certain it’s got relief drops in it.
I gingerly sit up and drink the glass with a shaking hand, hoping it stays down. It takes ten minutes of leaning back against the headboard before I trust myself to stand and shower without falling or getting sick.
The captain’s words from last night come back to me in slow motion as I ready myself for the day. He is a study in contradiction. Equal parts hard and soft. Almost impossibly so. A realist and a dreamer. A fighter and a romantic. But his expectations for himself and a woman are so high. The thought of climbing up to those expectations with him gives me such a fright. The heights. The possibility of a fall. Of disappointing him, and myself.
It’s too much. I can’t do it. My gut turns with sadness and regret that I could never be what he needs. I don’t trust myself.
Pulling myself together, I head to the kitchen and turn on both bread machines. They’re fully stocked with yeast, water, flour, and other essentials. I press the buttons for sourdough and sounds of ingredients begin to measure and mix. We’ll have fresh bread in time for lunch. In the meantime, I grab a freeze dried health bar.
My stomach is still not completely right when I quietly slip into the sparring room to watch the men. Over the course of my time on the ship, I’ve toughened up when it comes to watching them. I barely flinch or cover my eyes anymore. I’ve learned what they can handle. But my heart pumps overtime when Lexon takes off his shirt to join them. He usually only watches. Watching him prowl toward Milaz on the mat makes me realize we must be very close to mission time if he’s joining them.
I hold my breath as they go at one another. The grunts and thumps. They’re animals when they fight. And stars help me, but watching Captain Lexon overpower the tough Milaz makes me tingle and squirm on the bench. I cross my legs, wishing I could ignore the throb of my crotch and the way my body readies itself for him.
Calm down body, your efforts are wasted.
The self-reminder is disheartening.
When Captain Lexon pins a red-faced Milaz, he stands and his eyes blast into me. It feels like the whole room stops. He’s sweating, his hands in fists, his muscles taut and clenched. If I move an inch right now, I’m likely to moan from how swollen his look is making me. Lexon tears his eyes away, almost angrily, and stalks to his discarded shirt, running it roughly over his head.
I let out a rough breath and uncross my legs, grabbing the edge of the bench to try and relieve some of the pressure that’s built. I should leave them. Let them concentrate. Go back to my room and roll around on the bed, touching myself and imagining my fingers are the captain’s mouth.
Uuung.
I stand and realize in a humiliating moment that my hangover is worse than I thought, because I’m about to fall over. The men shout, and blaring air horns assault my ears. My heart jolts at the sight and sounds. It’s not my balance. The ship is lurching and the men are sprinting.
Lexon grabs my hand. “Come with me!”
I sprint to keep up as we move from the sparring room to the cockpit. The captain points to a wall chair and I nod, pulling it out and strapping myself in.
Devlar, Rawko, and Captain Lexon rush to the monitors, buckling themselves in. I have no idea what it all means, but they’re staring at bright blips on the black screen, and by the sounds of their swearing, it’s not good.
“Motherfuckers…” Lexon hits the speaker button and speaks in military jargon to the rest of the crew—“Three bogies starside. Single riders. Cruiser one mile out, southwest.”
Their voices respond, filling the room.
Yahni says, “Lining up at eleven o’clock.”
“Fire when ready,” Captain says.
The ship gives a tiny shutter and a blast sounds from somewhere.
“Hit,” Yahni says.
“Yes,” Dev murmurs.
I close my eyes, fighting for breath when Rawk shouts, “We’re taking fire carrier side!” The ship shakes and tiny thwap, thwap, thwap sounds come from underneath us.
“I’m on him,” Tiko says. A giant boom, then, “Hit!”
“Fuck, yeah,” Rawko says, typing something with fast fingers.
“Readying the long distance missiles for the cruiser.” He touches the screen to align with the target and smacks a button. The ship lets out a whoosh sound and I gasp to see the rocket fly top speed, disappearing into the darkness.
“Incoming!” Devlar shouts.
I grasp the seat with all my might as Captain Lexon yanks the shifter to the side and the ship tilts. My teeth clink together and I fight back a scream when my whole body shakes and my ears fill with a thunderous boom.
“Fuck, the right gunner is out!” Devlar pushes the speaker button. “Milaz, check in.”
Static buzzes over the speaker and I whimper in terror. Lexon growls and hits the speaker again. “Milaz! Check. In!”
Silence. The captain roars and brings a fist down on the console, making me jump. Milaz has to be okay. He has to. Maybe he’s knocked out.
“Finish these fuckers,” the captain demands into the speaker.
It’s a flurry of sounds as the crew unleashes hell on the attacking vessels. I don’t know how it’s possible for us to have any more ammunition. The firing and shouting goes on forever.
The men yell with victory and I open my eyes to catch a giant fireball in the distance. My heart is about to burst from my chest. Each breath hurts, every muscle on fire from being so tense.
And then Lexon is out of his seat, sprinting past me from the cockpit.
I look at Devlar and Rawko, their faces pinched. “He’s not dead,” I whisper.
They both glance at one of the screens, and I squint to make out the side of the ship where a small gun pod had been sticking out. It’s now a gaping hole. I cover my mouth against a wave of sickening horror, shaking my head. Rawko comes to me, falling on his knees and unbuckling me to take me in his arms.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers.
“Milaz…”
“I know.” The tiniest crack in his voice betrays his emotion as he rubs my back.
I hold him tight, trembling in his strong arms. Minutes pass and the men come in, one by one, and I release Rawko to sta
nd with them. The captain last. His face is a hard mask.
Milaz isn’t with us.
I cover my mouth. Milaz and Lexon were more than coworkers. If I’m dying inside, I can’t imagine what he and the others are experiencing. And apparently their way of dealing is to move forward. Action. Business.
The captain barks orders, and the men seem grateful, eager to do something. Anything to keep busy. I can only stand there, useless. I move to the wall and watch them bustling around, doing checks, sending communications. Part of me knows I should leave them, but I can’t be alone right now.
Milaz is dead. Dirty talking Milaz who loved his sons and missed getting to see them grow up. This can’t be happening.
“The good thing is,” the captain murmurs, “they’ve wasted a carrier ship and a bunch of pods coming at us. That means we’re facing less when we get to Clyvorn. And our ship is in tact…minus one gun pod.”
Silence. My chest heaves. I must make a noise, because the captain’s eyes find me and widen. God, his eyes. Even as wide as they are, they are heavy with the burden of his friend’s death. “You should head to your room, Reesa.”
“No.” I can’t be alone. “I’ll stay out of the way. I promise.”
He looks me over, his mouth a firm line, and nods.
I listen as Lexon makes contact with an ally ship on its way. “We’ll need to restock before we land. We weren’t expecting two attacks before even getting to Clyvorn’s orbit.”
The other ship’s captain makes plans to assemble prior to landing. They share specs of where to meet.
“We have one civilian passenger aboard who will stay with you.” The captain’s eyes flick to me, and my stomach jumps.
“Roger that,” the other captain says. “The new vessel is making better time than expected. ETA five days.”
Five days. I feel sick.
I hold the wall and quietly leave the cockpit. I can’t focus as I make my way down the hall. I have to do something. Lunch! I have to make sandwiches. I practically run to the kitchen, desperate to be useful. My shaking hands nearly drop the warm loaf of bread as I pull it from the machine. You’d think that when a good man dies, things would stop. The breadmakers would pause. Time would cease while everyone regains their footing and comes to terms. But life continues and it feels so wrong.
I pile sandwiches and dried fruits on a tray, taking it into the cockpit and setting it on a table. They probably won’t eat. I know I can’t. I stand there wringing my hands until Captain Lexon moves to face me, taking my chin in his fingers.
“Everything will be okay,” he says, despite the absolute pain behind his eyes. I have to be strong for him. For all of them. So I swallow and nod.
Life goes on, even while your heart is begging for a respite.
***
The following days are a blur. I set up my masseuse table in the sparring room and insist on giving the men massages. It’s the least I can do to ease their aching muscles and release some of the tension as we near the battle.
After all that’s happened, I’m too morose to think about coupling with the captain. He only speaks when he absolutely has to. In fact, the whole crew has taken to silence. But I don’t want to be alone. Nights are awful. I toss and turn, crying out when sleep tumbles me into a warzone. The night before we’re set to meet the ally ship, I’m so riddled with fear of sleep that I pad down the hall and press my hand to the captain’s panel. His door slides open and he sits up in bed as if ready to attack.
“It’s me,” I whisper, climbing into his bed. I don’t touch him. And I can’t bring myself to explain. I simply roll over, giving him my back and snuggling into the scent of his pillows and comforter.
To my surprise, after a long pause he lays behind me, scooting close enough to feel his body heat and his breaths on the back of my neck. And that’s how I finally fall into a dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
At some point in the night, I turned to face him, and my foot became nestled between his calves, my knee pressed to his thigh. I’m still half asleep when I see his brawny chest in front of me and instinctively move my face to place a kiss on his pec. The muscle jumps beneath my lips and I pull back, blushing. I raise my eyes to see him watching me.
“Sorry,” I whisper. I pull my foot away so we’re not touching at all.
“Were you having bad dreams?” he asks.
I nod, sitting up and wrapping my arms around my knees. “Every night.”
He sits up against the headboard with me, clearing his throat. “It will be better on the new ship. They’ll be there to provide resources, and a smaller pod will break off to take you home. You’ll be safe.”
Panic flares, kick starting my heart into hyper speed. “I don’t want to be away from you guys!”
“You can’t come to Clyvorn with us. It will be an outright war zone.”
“I know, but isn’t the new ship staying in orbit instead of landing? I can stay with them until you’re finished with the mission.”
“That’s not safe. There’s a possibility it will be attacked if we fail.”
“You won’t fail.”
He sighs, running a hand over his short hair. “It could be months, Reesa.”
“I don’t care. I want to wait for you.”
“Why?” He turns to me, eyes burning with something I can’t understand.
I fumble, confused by this strong pull and desire and desperation. “I don’t know. I just…I can’t leave.”
His jaw sets as if my explanation displeases him. I can’t tell him the absolute devotion I’ve grown to feel for him. Everything I’m holding back terrifies me. I’m questioning my heart and my beliefs and nothing makes sense.
He climbs from the bed and my jaw drops. The captain had been sleeping naked. I stare unabashedly at his sculpted ass and thighs as he makes his way to his closet. I don’t breathe until he disappears inside of it. By the time he comes back out, fully dressed, I swear I’ve left a wet spot on his sheets. I can’t seem to right my breathing. I’m just sitting there stupidly holding the blanket to my chest and gawking.
He gets to the door and finally looks at me. Oh, my stars, there is masculine pride in his eyes—the look a man gives a woman when he knows damn well he’s had an effect on her. “It’s only five in the morning, Reesa. We won’t meet the other ship until two. Go back to sleep.”
Not a chance.
He leaves me and I reach into my lacy panties, rubbing myself until I climax in the middle of his bed. Then I absently rub my damp fingers over his sheets as I catch my breath. Take that, Captain.
Two o’clock comes too soon. Lexon lets me join the crew in the cockpit as we sidle our ship next to the allies, hooking a ramp to connect us. I’m more nervous than I expected to be. We haven’t seen other people in nearly eighteen months. And they’re not an intergalactic ship, they’re an Earth ship, which makes me double nervous.
Lexon pulls me aside before we open the adjoining panels. “Listen.” He lowers his voice. “Don’t tell them you were a Nevesta.”
My face flames. “Of course not. I wouldn’t want to shame you.”
“That’s not the reason.” He glares down at me then sighs. “Earth people have certain assumptions about Mars humana. Stereotypes. Especially about the women. I won’t have them fucking with you.”
I settle down a little, though his warning leaves a sour pit in my stomach. “I’ll be fine.”
“I mean it, Reesa. Be careful with these Earth men. You have to be firm with them. Don’t feel bad if you have to tell them to fuck off. Unless…” He runs a hand roughly over his head. “Unless you want—”
“I won’t.” I try to communicate everything with my eyes that I can never seem to put into words. “I won’t want any of them.”
“You can’t know that. You haven’t met them.”
“I know who I want.”
His nostrils flare as his eyes widen, and before either of us can say another word, the doors are opening.<
br />
Every Hornet standing behind us stiffens into a salute at the Earth woman standing before us wearing a crisp military uniform. She’s tall and slim with her hair pulled up in a tight bun. And though her face is stern, the slant of her eyes and her wide, full mouth are incredibly sexy.
She smiles at Captain Lexon as if there’s a silent, inside joke between them, and says in a sultry voice, “Russ. So good to see you again.”
Russ? Holy stars above. Is that his first name? I immediately hate her in a way I’ve never hated another woman. In fact, I’ve never hated anyone. It’s a revolting sensation. I want her to stop looking at him. To stop knowing him and having an obvious past with him. To his credit, he doesn’t smile back.
“Captain Lairde,” he says formally.
A tiny bit of her cockiness fades and her eyes finally pry away from him to skip over each face, landing last on mine, and then slowly perusing me up and down.
“I presume this is your civilian?”
Lexon clears his throat. “Yes. Our chef. Reesa, Captain Lairde.”
“Hello,” I say, wishing my voice was stronger.
“Chef?” She sounds doubtful as she takes in my tight jeans, silk blouse, and wedge heels. “Well, the kitchen staff will be glad for the help.” Now she ignores me and studies the men again. “It’s strange not to see Derek among you.”
Captain Lexon’s posture sags for a second before he stands tall again, and I realize Derek must be Milaz’s first name. My stomach plummets as grief fills me in a sickening spasm. I cross my arms over my middle. Nobody responds.
“Well, come in then,” she says. “I’ll introduce you to the rest of the crew.”
Their ship is older than ours, but twice the size. Captain Lairde is one of two captains aboard. She and one of the staff are the only women among them. Since they’re from Earth there’s no Nevesta, and the men openly stare at me in a starving way that makes me uncomfortable. How long have they been in space? As we walk, Captain Lexon and the other men step closer, surrounding me from all sides, causing the tension I’d been feeling to melt into a sense of safety.
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