by C. J. Barry
Grey sighed in resignation and stared into the undulating Oeno. “I know. I wasn't thinking of her, I was thinking of Mora.” He speared Barrios with a grimace. “Talk about fast women."
Barrios nodded and weaved in agreement. “Myself, I prefer the slow burners. You never know what you'll get when you light up one of those.” He raised his glass. “To slow burners."
Grey drank to that. Coon made a valiant attempt join the toast, but instead his head dropped down on the table with a resounding thud. Barrios and Grey regarded him in mild surprise.
"I guess slow burners put him to sleep,” Barrios summarized, leaning slightly as he attempted to line his vision up with Coon's horizontal head.
Grey laughed. “It would seem so.” Clouds of Oeno were descending around him. He was still thinking about Cidra and grinning like a fool. Definitely not a slow burner. He'd already had a taste of her fire. What he wouldn't give to see her fully ablaze.
They drank the next round in silence. Then Barrios listed toward Grey, his tone serious. “Cidra is like my daughter, you know. She's been through a lot, seen a lot, experienced little.” He focused on Grey with a lurch. “I wouldn't want her hurt."
"I won't hurt her, I promise. Keeping my mouth shut should help greatly,” Grey muttered.
Barrios accepted that. “If you want her, you'll have to apologize. And you better make it a good one."
Grey nodded. He wanted her. He didn't know exactly when the thought became fact, but there it was. The acknowledgment alone eased the twisting in his gut that had plagued him all day.
Grey raised his glass. “To understanding women."
Barrios’ laugh boomed through the saloon. “That'll take more Oeno than they got on all of Vaasa."
* * * *
Rosa and Cidra were sitting at the table when the boisterous pair clamored into the kitchen with Barrios singing at the top of his lungs. They both reeled to a halt, looking all the world like two little boys caught in an act of mischief.
Barrios’ whisper in Grey's ear came through as a lilting shout, “Nope, they're not sleepin'. We don't have to be quiet. ‘S good thing ‘cause you make too much noise.” He gently patted Grey's cheek. He winked at Cidra with both eyes. “Hello, love. We were just talking ‘bout you, weren't we, Stone?"
Grey wasn't listening. All his senses were focused on Cidra.
Barrios donned a stunned and stupefied expression as Rosa began scolding him. “You. You are a bad influence. I should have known. Grown men. Indeed. Look at you. We cannot leave you two alone for a single day."
Rosa pointed to Grey. “Cidra, you take that one. I will handle the almighty chef myself.” She then proceeded to pry the joined drinking buddies apart and pull Barrios towards his room. His playful chiding and her feisty retorts echoed down the hallway until the bedroom door slammed shut behind them.
Grey watched Cidra. Even mad, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. He leaned against the counter for support and gave her an unadulterated smile. “Aren't you going to yell at me?"
"No need. Your punishment will take care of itself in the morning.” She took his arm and led him down the hall toward his room. “Come on, I'll put you to bed."
"Thought you'd never ask.” He smiled wickedly.
Cidra shot him a warning look. “I was under the impression you'd sworn off women."
He stumbled to the side, taking her into the wall with him, capturing her in his arms.
"I've been meaning to talk to you about that,” he mumbled in her ear, pulling her firmly against his body. He breathed deeply, inhaling her unique scent. Unique and sexy.
He drew her closer and nuzzled her neck, burying his face in thick, auburn hair. So sweet. He wondered if she'd mind terribly staying in this position forever.
Her gaze flew up to meet his, eyes sparkled devilishly back at her. The mellow, controllable drunk seemed to be sobering up in a hurry, replaced by someone highly amorous and single-minded. His big body wrapped around her, gilding her with his heat, accommodating her curves and hollows. Her body reacted of its own accord, recognizing a truth her mind had yet to admit—he provided an essential element she craved. Unable to stop herself, she basked in the rugged warmth.
He was mumbling something in her ear, something he wanted, something she didn't even know was physically possible. She swallowed hard and decided it was time to get him to bed before he sobered up any more. She wasn't ready for what he had in mind.
Cidra renewed her efforts, despite the fact he was making it more difficult than it should have been. If she didn't know better, she'd swear he knew exactly what he was doing. His hands always seemed to end up on a few strategic locations on her body.
She managed to get him to the edge of his bed, breathing hard from her exertion. He swayed, looking down at her with a most genuine expression.
"I'm sorry about last night."
"I'm not sure an apology from a drunk man counts.” She stifled a smile.
He nodded seriously. “Point taken. I'll give you a real one tomorrow. How about a good night kiss instead?” His eyes gleamed as he slipped his hands around her waist.
She didn't fight him, only lifted an eyebrow. “I don't think I can trust you tonight."
"You're probably right.” He dropped his hands in easy defeat. Without warning, his gray eyes bore into her soul with lucid intensity.
"But you realize it's our destiny, Cidra. We're like the gypsy wings. We have no choice."
She gasped in surprise at the casual declaration.
Recovering, she smiled wide, placed her hand squarely on his chest and pushed him backward onto the bed. “Sorry, Captain. No green light tonight."
He landed flat on the bed with a grunt. His eyes closed almost immediately. She gazed at his peaceful expression and headed for the door.
"I do trust you, Cidra."
The words stopped her cold in the doorway. She wondered if it was the Oeno talking or the man and just how much trust he was offering. She was sure it wasn't much.
"It's a start,” she whispered and walked out.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The thunderous pounding of his own pulse in his head greeted Grey bright and early the next morning.
He gingerly placed a hand on his throbbing head to offer some support. Contrary to what he thought, it was still intact. The previous night swirled back slowly as a blur of conversation and salutes and ... Cidra. He groaned.
What did he say to her last night? What did he do to her?
He struggled to think clearly above the steady quartet of drums beating a hapless tune on his skull. He was reasonably sure he hadn't made matters worse with her, but positive his condition didn't do anything to boost her already shaky image of him.
He was also quite sure he hadn't seduced her. For one thing, he was still fully dressed. Belatedly, he realized she hadn't seduced him either. Smart woman.
For the better, he rationalized. Their first time together definitely would not involve any inebriated parties. He would be in full control. It vaguely occurred to him that the if had now become a when.
Grey rolled off the bed, stood up, and winced as the drums culminated into a roaring crescendo. He swore under his breath at Barrios and hoped he was suffering a similar fate.
Time to get cleaned up and face Cidra and mend whatever damage he'd done last night, along with the damage he'd done the night before. This was getting downright ugly.
A long soak under the water spray did wonders for the timpani in his head. He walked out to the small balcony off his bedroom and took a deep breath.
Morning on Vaasa was unlike any planet he had ever visited. Exotic flowers opened at dawn filling the damp morning air with a heady mix of fragrances that gradually diminished by midday. It always had a soothing effect on his spirit.
There was movement in the courtyard. He slid around the main column and spied Cidra stepping slowly on the grass. It had been years since he had performed it, but he recognized her caref
ully orchestrated motions as Kwei, position number five. There were thirty-two positions in all, indelibly engraved in every Kin-sha graduate.
The entire sequence could take a standard hour. Each position strengthened one set of muscles and relaxed another, a balance of mind and body.
Cidra performed the familiar motions with complete concentration, her face relaxed while her body worked. Grey had always thought of Kwei as a means to an end, but she performed the same steps with an alluring grace and sensuality.
She wore a blue skin-tight sleeveless outfit, cut to mid-thigh with a low scoop neckline and back. He studied the intricate muscles in her back, the elegance of her hands, the perfection of her bottom, the contours of her legs. Sweat glistened off her golden skin. Beautiful, flawless, glowing skin meant for touching and caressing.
A flash of desire pumped through him, and he found himself suddenly, painfully aroused. He gripped the railing like a vice. Definitely feeling better. As he was asserting some degree of self-control over his body, Cidra suddenly stop mid-step and went still.
He froze. A few heartbeats passed before she spun around and looked up at him.
Caught.
How did she know he was watching her? He was sure he hadn't made a sound. Either it was that crazy sixth sense of hers or she could read his mind. Now that would be a serious problem. She'd be shocked if she had a glimpse of what he was thinking.
She smiled and called, “Good morning Captain. Care to join me? If you're up to it, of course."
I'm definitely up to it, he grimaced.
The challenge stood.
"I'll be right down,” he responded before he could think it through with the few active brain cells at his disposal. Even before he finished the sentence, he was cursing himself. Now you've done it. He'd somehow have to maintain control with her right next to him wearing nothing but that little slip of an outfit.
Self-inflicted torture, that's what it was. Like he didn't have enough of that this morning. Grey braced himself as he made his way to the courtyard.
* * * *
Cidra had known Grey was watching her by the now familiar prickle in her mind, but she wasn't prepared for his undisguised hunger when she turned to face him. For that split second, he exuded a primal appeal that sent a wild, answering frenzy rippling through her.
She prayed she had covered up her initial shock well enough. Too bad it hadn't kept her from opening her mouth. What was she thinking inviting him to join her? Another mutiny. Betrayed once again by her own body.
At that moment, Grey strode across the courtyard toward her wearing only shorts and a smile. She let out a small whimper. He was a beautiful man, long muscles flexing and rolling with every step. Sun played off the planes and valleys of his body as he drew near. Pure male power. She felt like prey—frozen in the face of a terrifying, yet fascinating predator, unable to do anything to save herself.
He smiled when he saw her watching him. Grinning wide, he stopped in front of her and folded his arms across his bare chest.
"So, where were you?"
She blinked, seeing only broad muscles and dark, curly chest hair. Aware that it was her turn to speak, she had to work to get the saliva flowing. “Uh, position six."
Without a word, he stepped next to her in standard partner formation and assumed the starting position. Tamping down the turmoil Grey's entrance had initiated, she forced herself to concentrate on the routine. For his part, Grey also appeared engrossed in the exercise.
Only a gentle breeze, the warm sun, and silence accompanied the intricate dance as it re-commenced.
She could feel them synchronize, moving through the paces. They flowed easily, effortlessly, a perfect match of rhythm and ability. It felt strangely exhilarating, the moving as one, side by side. Each knew the steps intimately, accepting the tempo set, enjoying the pleasure of supple bodies responding to unspoken commands.
Cidra stifled a gasp as a staggering erotic wave swept over her. A carnal surge that started somewhere low in her body and unfurled itself in tantalizing ribbons. Never had Kwei done this to her. Certainly not the many times she'd performed it with Syrus. She had never before appreciated its raw sensuality.
Executing a turn that placed her behind him, she stared at Grey's broad back in motion, gleaming with perspiration. Powerful muscles flowed and bunched, carved and cut.
Moving in perfect unison, the world outside them disappeared. Bonded together in an ageless art, time lost its dimension and its meaning. Step after step, movement after movement as the ancient performance played out. When the last step was completed, a mutual disappointment descended.
During the cool down steps, Cidra looked at him with a mix of admiration and amusement. “I'm impressed. I didn't expect to see you up and around until mid-day."
He winced. “About last night. I hope I didn't...” He paused and ran a hand through his hair, trying to choose his words carefully. Didn't grope you like a drunken fool?
"You didn't,” Cidra answered the unfinished question, her blue eyes shining. “But you tried."
He gave her a slow smile. “I must not have tried very hard."
"A respectable effort,” she said.
"I want you to know, I don't do that often.” Noting her single raised eyebrow, he clarified. “Get drunk, that is. I prefer to be in full control of my mind and body."
She laughed and shook her head. “That's what you get for introducing Barrios to Oeno."
Grey grinned. Perhaps he had said something right last night after all. “How about that tour of Vaasa today?"
He sensed the hesitation, saw the uncertainty light in her eyes and the subtle tensing of her body. Trust me, Cidra.
Finally she said, “I'd like that."
* * * *
"I want the bastard dead!” Mora's shrill voice cut through the conversation.
She stood shaking with fury in front of Sandor Wex. She'd been on a tirade all afternoon, storming from one end of his ship to the other, leaving anarchy in her wake.
Hoping her emotional outburst was near it's end, Wex laid his small hand on her shoulder. “Easy, love. I said I would take care of him, and I meant it."
"You should have killed him over Avion. The idiots you employ couldn't hit the broad side of a planet.” She shook off the hand and paced Wex's office.
Wex glanced at one of his mammoth idiots, standing silently beside him. Dunkin's thought processes were slow, but it was feasible that he could figure out that she was talking about him.
"I expected him to be alone. You never told me he'd have help in the K12,” Wex said carefully, watching for any cerebral activity from Dunkin.
"That woman, that Avion woman. I want her dead too,” Mora sputtered as she kicked a chair.
"Now, now. Once Stone is eliminated and I have Calíbre, we can do whatever we want with the crew.” He moved toward Mora, confident that Dunkin had missed the earlier insult. She glared at him as he pulled her to his wiry body. “I'll even let you decide what to do with the woman."
Mora's sneer turned to a sultry pout. “Promise?” She breathed deeply, pressing her prominent chest against his concave one. Wex nearly disappeared in her red jumpsuit.
Wex nuzzled her neck. “Anything you want, love."
Her eyes focused on a distant dream as he kissed her cheek. “Yes, anything I want."
She shot Dunkin a glare. “You, get out of here."
Dunkin jumped like he'd been shot. Scowling, he lumbered out of his boss’ office.
Wex began unfastening the top of her jumpsuit and murmured, “I love it when you give orders."
"So do I,” she murmured.
* * * *
Cidra couldn't remember ever being quite so relaxed. She ran her hands along the rim of the big tub, stretched out her long legs and closed her eyes in pure bliss. Warm, soft water lapped around her, offering the kind of comfort only water can give—purifying, soothing, fundamental.
She could learn to love this place. Very simply, V
aasa took her breath away. Her heart wasn't far behind. The day had passed so quickly. No matter how much of it she tried to commit to memory, the sheer beauty of this planet would never be fully justified in her recollections. Where Avion barely tolerated its wilderness, Vaasa embraced it, gracefully conceding civilization to nature.
A mere blur of rolling hills and valleys, lush forests and vast plains was all she could grasp from behind Grey on his speeder. They stopped for a picnic lunch by a spectacular waterfall emptying into a cerulean lagoon. Cidra could barely eat, her attention drawn to the exotic flora and fragrance.
Blossoms sprouted from every plant, every crevice and, it seemed, from rock itself. Great clusters of flowers cascaded and climbed, crept across the ground, dabbing color in the endless green of vegetation. Feathery breezes carried a potent brew of fragrances, mixing and mingling, fighting for dominance.
She could spend a lifetime exploring each turn in the road. That is, if she survived Grey's penchant for speed that bordered on a death wish. She smiled at the thought, wiggling her toes under the water.
More than once today, she was held breathless when his words said one thing and his eyes said another. Dark, intense eyes that watched her every move, every breath. Although he'd kept his distance from her, she could still feel the strange, transparent strings that seemed to pull her toward him, wrapping and binding them together. It seemed the closer he got, the tighter the strings drew, vibrating to her very bones. There were times lately when she felt she was burning alive. It made her feel reckless and wild. A different woman.
She groaned and dropped her head back on the tub edge. When had it happened? When had she begun falling in love with a man who didn't fully trust her and probably never would despite what he said? What would it take for him to let her in?
She rose from the tub, dried off and slipped into one of her new dresses. All worries lapsed into the background with a quick swirl of the short skirt. Sleeveless and black, it covered little and revealed more than she had bared in public in her lifetime. It brought a smile of anticipation to her lips.
