“Taary,” Daanel repeated, his voice soft, gentle. “Come on. Get up, sweetie. I’m here with you.”
She left LodeStone with only two pieces of luggage. Daanel guided her through the essentials, but she shook her head when he urged her to take more.
“I don’t ever want to see most of this again,” she said. “Ever.”
“Okay, sweetie,” he said. “Time to come here, then. Let’s go out and meet your flight.”
Coy came in to help with her luggage. “Um, you only have two cases? Had a lot more stuff coming in.”
“I’m leaving it.” Taara looked around the room, then marched over and grabbed a set of black lingerie from an open drawer, along with a lii silk robe. “Here. This is for you, and—and that special woman.”
Coy’s chin drew back, her brows flew up. Then she smiled wryly. “Thanks. I’ll take it. Met someone. But you don’t wanna hear about that.”
Taara nodded fiercely. “Oh yes I do.” Anything to drown out the pain. “Come on. Let’s go. You can tell me all about her on the way back.”
Her head high, she grabbed her cases and marched from the room. Well, actually she limped, but it was a militant limp.
She made only one stop, at the holoreader on the kitchen counter. She left a short, succinct message, swiped away the tears that fell as she wrote it, and continued on, out of his home. ‘I’ll be in Frontiera City if you ever want to talk. Taara Ravel’
She did not look back, not until she was aboard the cruiser. Then she turned her head and saw him, standing in the sunlight on his roof, amid building materials and his men, all working to repair the damage done by the pirate attack.
He stood, squinting against the sun, watching as the cruiser lifted off and rose in the air, but his face was remote, as if he were watching a stranger depart. And he did not wave goodbye.
Closing her eyes tight, Taara faced front, and sat until the cruiser lifted under her and bore her up into the sky.
Away from Creed Forth, and unfortunately also away from her heart.
Chapter Seventeen
Daanel and Taara sat at the table on the patio of their new condo. It was a lovely, warm afternoon, late summer in Frontiera City. The patio was plain, with only a vase of holozinnias on the side table and a rustic pale orange cloth on the table, the hem fluttering in the breeze. Tall drinks sat before both of them, and since it was Daanel they were green, in perfect complement to the zinnia leaves and his own fitted shirt.
His expression did not match the cheery décor. Taara looked into his eyes with difficulty. The same green as her own, a family trait, they held a look of pain. She bit her trembling lips together, guilt nearly swallowing her whole. She had put that look there, because he was hurting for her.
She was struggling to explain her feelings for Creed.
“Creed is …” She shook her head. “When I first saw his holovid, I thought, ‘That man is sex on a reactor stick’. And I was right. But he’s so much more than that. He’s also a good man. Being with him was no hardship. I hope you’ll remember that, D.”
Daanel nodded. “He is pretty hot,” he agreed. He opened his mouth and then closed it.
“What?”
“You fell for him, didn’t you?” he asked gently.
She nodded, and then closed her eyes as they filled with tears again. “So hard. So hard I don’t know if I’ll ever … ever get up again. When he found out—” she shuddered. “The way he looked at me, as if I’d betrayed him. That was the most awful part of all of this. I hurt him, D. Me and Logan Stark.”
Daanel covered her hand with his, and squeezed. His hand was warm, in contrast to hers. She was cold, in spite of the heat of the day. The chill emanated from deep inside her, where her heart had been … until she left it on a mountainside a long flight away.
“I forgive you,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Now, you have to forgive yourself. Then we’ll talk about how we’re going to kill Logan Stark and his brother. For hurting you this way. Because it may not have been Creed’s idea, but he certainly leapt into your arms fast enough. And he’s hardly an innocent child.”
“But he is—an innocent man,” she insisted. “Or he was, until I seduced him”
Daanel rolled his eyes. “Honey, there’s a big, big difference between innocence and celibacy. If the man was with the Zhen-Lou, then he may not have participated, but he’s seen some things. Those monks take on the worst baddies and not from afar. They go in and clean house.” He nodded wisely.
“Yes.” But Creed had also had to live through some of the nightmare.
“Besides, any man who can’t tell my sweet cousin from a courtesan—hsssss!”
His overt disgust surprised a snicker from her, but it didn’t last long.
“Anyway,” she said, miserably, tracing an embroidered stem on the cloth. “It was probably all for nothing anyway. Stark will no doubt want his credit back.”
“Wait,” Daanel cried, sitting up straight. “Oh, my goddess. It’s my turn to apologize, sweetie.”
“What?”
“Stark linked me,” Daanel said, grimacing at the memory. “He said to tell you that he will honor his end of the bargain. That he’s sorry things didn’t work out, but he’s sure you did your best and he doesn’t want you to worry about anything.”
Taara gaped. “He’s sorry?” she managed. Then she started to laugh. “Oh, that’s rich. That’s—that’s just quarking fabulous.”
As Daanel watched, chin back and eyes wide, she flew out of her chair and flung her arms wide in a parody of joy. “My great plan worked. Here we are, free of Earth II, on a new planet and set for life. Everything’s wonderful, and I’ll never worry again. But if I do, I’ll just wh-whore myself again and it will all work out.”
Then she clapped her hands over her mouth and stared at Daanel, horrified.”I’m sorry,” she mumbled through her fingers. “I’m sorry, D. I’m—”
“Stop saying that,” he called back. He rose as well, and shook his finger at her, his narrow, clever face fierce. “I never, ever want to hear you apologize to me or anyone else again for this, do you understand me, missy? And that includes Creed Forth.”
She nodded.
He nodded back, grandly. “Good. Now, let’s have a drink and … talk about the boutique.”
“Good idea,” she agreed. She dropped into her chair and picked up her drink, taking a sip. It was cool, frothy and tart. “This is delicious.” She took another drink, a bigger one.
“Should be,” he said. “Made with the finest ingredients Logan Stark’s credit can buy.”
Taara smiled at him, even though her eyes were full of tears. “I love you,”
He smiled back at her. “Love you too, Taary. And you’re gonna be all right. Remember, we’re partners now.”
“Can’t think of anyone else I’d rather be partners with.”
“And you’re going to start designing again,” he said. “Oh, yes, I know all about your hobby. I also know you’re better at it than you think. I found some of your ideas, when sharing your place in New Seattle. Some of them were brilliant. Others sucked, but that’s all right.”
“You’re so good for me,” she said, tears sliding down her face. “And I already made a start on a new design. Can’t wait to show you.”
“Good. We’ll make this work, Taary. This is a new world, and we are just what this city and this planet need.”
Taara nodded. He had a point there. Frontiera was ripe with opportunity.
Daanel chattered on, talking about some big social event coming up in the fall that they could use to showcase their wares. But as her gaze drifted back out over the swathe of green lawn adjoining the condo complex, Taara’s smile slid away.
She would make a life here. She’d work hard. And maybe eventually the raw pain of being thrust away by the man she’d fallen for would dull. But for now, all she could do was just get through this day. And the long night to come.
The next morning after a short,
fitful night’s sleep, Taara set off with Daanel for the boutique. They did this on foot, as the new shopping center was on the waterfront down the hillside from the condo, and because Daanel had not yet purchased a hovie. The streets were already busy with other beings on the walks, and hovies and transports gliding along the traffic lanes.
Taara heard languages and dialects from all over the galaxy. A trio of Barillians passed, fluting softly to each other through the tall lavender tubes atop their heads. A huge Mauritanian strode past, nodding curtly as he jostled Daanel, his purple-blue face grim. Taara shuddered—it would take some time before she felt comfortable around that race. And she hoped she never, ever had to see another Gorglon as long as she lived. Indigons, Serpentians, humans and many other races also filled the walks, and worked to open shops and cafes along the sides.
They stopped at a small kiosk to buy coffee. “Don’t tell Kiri,” Daanel smirked. “She’d have our necks for patronizing the competition.”
Taara took a sip and wrinkled her nose. “Not much competition.” She’d rather drink even Creed’s powerful brew than this weak, tasteless stuff.
“Let’s just hope it has some caffeine,” he agreed. “Tell her she must open a branch of Kiri’s Kaffe in our shopping center.”
Taara nodded.
Their new boutique was nestled in the ground floor of the shopping center, near the entrance, off a large courtyard with a view of the beach and the sea beyond. Taara gaped like the immi she was, letting Daanel guide her along with her hand tucked in his arm.
“We get to work here?” she asked. “It’s like a—a travel channel holovid.”
“We do,” he assured her, a proud smile on his face as he pressed his palm to a panel beside the front door of the boutique. The locks clicked open and the double doors swung open, to reveal a space painted in Daanel’s trademark sparkly black and deep purple. He claimed the shades highlighted the bright hues of the clothing. Taara thought he simply loved the drama.
But instead of neat racks of clothing and accoutrements, there were stacks of shipping crates.
“Looks like we have work to do.”
He nodded happily. “These have been arriving from our shopper at the Serpentian markets. Can’t wait to see what ‘you’ chose,” he added, poking her with one finger.
She smiled weakly. “I did consult, you know.”
They got right to work, and by the end of the day were both exhausted, but some order had been created out of chaos, with more than half the racks full and shipping containers gone.
“Tomorrow, shoes and accessories,” Daanel said, wiping his hands on a cloth. “But now, I’d kill for a drink—an alcoholic one.”
Taara’s com chimed with a link. Her heart leapt. Was it Creed? Disappointment slammed her as she saw another face. But she pasted on a pleased smile, because Daanel was watching. “Oh, starry. It’s Kiri.”
“Hi,” her friend said, her pretty face wreathed in a smile. Her short dark hair was styled, and dressed in a sleek cream tunic and tights, Kiri sat on an elegant sofa, with green plants bowing gracefully in the background. “You’re back. Can you two come for drinks and dinner?”
Taara shot Daanel an uneasy glance. The mere thought of going to Logan Stark’s house made her want to vomit.
Instantly reading her, he stepped close and smiled at Kiri. “Hello, sweets, Taara’s still a bit space lagged. Why don’t you come to our new place? We’ll pick something up at the market on the way home.”
“All right. I’ll bring some wine and some of Natan’s fresh bread—and some Cremarte for after dinner.”
Kiri arrived just as Taara and Daanel were emerging from their respective lavs. Daanel had moved Taara into his spare room, telling her she had plenty of time to look for her own place nearby, or she could stay with him.
Taara was happy to see Kiri. Maybe not as ecstatic as she pretended to be. She suspected she hadn’t fooled her friend when she emerged from her hug to see Kiri and Daanel exchanging a look.
Daanel held up the bottle of wine. “A drink, ladies. We will toast our future on this new planet.”
“Sounds good,” Kiri said. “I’m so glad you’re both here.”
A drink sounded good. Really good. As a matter of fact, Taara wanted to climb in the bottle of wine and lap it all up, maybe just curl up and stay in there.
She did her best to help finish the bottle. Her tongue loosened as she drank. She told Kiri all about Stark’s offer, about Creed and the rest of it—except for Creed’s secrets, which she would never divulge. She said that he was upset and hurt that she’d lied and left it at that. She did weep, and perhaps rant a bit about Stark’s role.
Kiri listened, wept in sympathy and then did a little ranting of her own.
“I’m going to kill Logan Stark,” she swore, draining her glass of Cremarte. “And maybe Creed too. Although I don’t see what he’s so upset about. So you’re not a hooker, that should be good, right?”
“Get in line,” Daanel snapped. “I have first call on both demises.”
“No,” Taara insisted. “Not Creed.” Stark, they could do what they wanted with, although she didn’t want to visit either of them in jail.
Kiri ignored them. “I cannot believe Logan did this,” she said miserably. “Wait—yes, I can. I’m beginning to believe Stark is capable of anything. He—he manipulates people as he does his businesses. Like we’re all commodities, some more valuable than others. And to think I was on the verge of falling back into his arms.”
Taara and Daanel stared at her. “You were? After he slept with that other woman?” Daanel demanded.
“Oh, I screwed up your romance too,” Taara wailed.
Daanel swatted her on the leg. “Stop it, you silly.” He gave her a warning look. “We talked about this. You are allowed only to take responsibility for your own actions and emotions. No one else’s. Creed is a big boy. Stark—sorry, Kiri my sweet—is a hiss viper, and Kiri is a smart girl who can decide for herself who she will be with.”
Kiri nodded emphatically, although her golden brown eyes held pain. “He’s right, Taara. Logan is … incredibly magnetic, but he’s deeply flawed. I knew that. This whole thing just brings it further to light.”
Taara wiped her eyes. “Okay,” she mumbled. Then she held out her empty glass.
Daanel shrugged and filled all their glasses. “You’re gonna have a horrible headache tomorrow. Might as well join you.”
“There are gesics for that,” Kiri said.
She and Taara exchanged a look of understanding. Gesics could not assuage the deeper pain they were both suffering. There were no gesics for wounded hearts.
The moment she walked into Stark’s condo, Kiri went to his office. She knew this was not wise—she’d been drinking, she was upset.
He was on a hololink with the head of his security, a huge, taciturn man with watchful eyes who nodded when Kiri walked into the room. Kiri nodded back, but she didn’t smile either.
Stark turned to her, and broke off in mid-sentence. “Bronc, go ahead on the matter,” he said, gaze on Kiri. “Link me in the morning.”
“Yes sir.” The link winked out.
Stark rose, walking toward Kiri, his head cocked in inquiry. “Kitten, what is it? What’s wrong? I’ll fix it.”
Kiri stared at him, trying to see him with a dispassionate eye. It was nearly impossible—he was an incredibly attractive man. But with what she’d just learned, a cold chill of realization had snaked its way into her chest and wrapped around her heart.
“You’ll fix it?” she repeated. She shook her head. “You honestly think you can manipulate any situation, any being to your will, don’t you?”
Gaze intent, he shrugged. She could almost see his mind working, assessing her mood, the possibilities, and how he should react. Which proved her point. Her chill grew deeper, spreading outward from her heart.
“Usually, I can.”
“Well, this time, you’ve bollixed up the works, Stark,” she said
. She leaned toward him. “You. Screwed. Up. I cannot believe you did this.”
His face tightened. “You’ve spoken with Taara Ravel.”
She nodded. “Yeah, Logan. I’ve spoken with Taara. I know everything. I cannot quarking believe you blackmailed my friend to have sex with your brother!” By the end she was shouting, but she did not care. Not one bit. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and she wanted to punch him in the nose. And then hammer him over the head with one of his priceless Serpentian fireglass sculptures.
His eyes tracked her every move. Then he raised his brows. “Hit me if it will make you feel better.”
Kiri growled under her breath. “I’d like to.” Then she turned away and paced across his office, her feet sinking into the plush carpet. “But I’m not going to. That would let you off the hook, and you are not off the hook, Stark. This is—this is beyond anything.”
He turned to watch her pace. “I brought Creed a good woman, placed her where he wouldn’t be able to ignore her. It could have worked if things hadn’t blown up.”
She whirled on him. “It could have worked?” she repeated incredulously. “These are human beings, Logan, not droids. They have feelings. Taara is devastated. He broke her heart.”
His gaze sharpened. “She thinks herself in love with him? Perhaps we can salvage this after all.”
Kiri held up her hands, palms out. She felt sick, her wine sloshing around in her stomach. “Whoa. Stop right there. Two things, Logan. One, she doesn’t ‘think herself in love with him’, she is in love with him. It’s real. And two, who is ‘we’? You don’t actually think I’m going to get involved in your ruthless schemes, do you?”
He crossed his arms and leaned against his desk. “If the end result is the two of them together,” he said. “Then, yes. I know you, you care about people. Taara’s your friend.”
“You’re hopeless,” she muttered. “Your brother is clearly not happy either, or he wouldn’t have sent her away like that. He must be hurt and probably humiliated. Your message here, whether you intended it or not, Logan, is that the only way he can get a woman is if you buy him one.”
Creed of Pleasure; the Space Miner's Concubine (The LodeStar Series) Page 19
