Not that she could blame him. Designed for one person, two max, the Dashing Canard was small and fast; ideal for a courier but never meant to haul a squabbling family any distance, let alone on a two-week journey.
Priya had spent the last four nights sleeping in the cockpit. Her shoulders hurt. Her neck hurt. Her head hurt from listening to Nisha and Nathaniel argue about who used all the hot water or ate the last spicy shrimp flavored noodle bowl. And she didn’t really need her mother sighing dramatically in the kitchenette about the lack of fresh vegetables in her diet. It was a kitchenette, which meant zero counter space, a small stovetop and a coffee maker. Basic. Priya wasn’t exactly cooking gourmet meals in there. Plus, her father fixated on the air filters and the ship’s climate control. Yes, the air was stale. Yes, it was hot. The ship wasn’t designed for six people. Life support strained to keep the air oxygenated. So, what if there was a funky smell? People smelled.
Between the squabbling, the noise, the stale air, the lack of a decent night’s sleep, Priya was more than happy to hide away in the cockpit. Frequent stops were her best solution; give the family a chance to stretch their legs and not breathe down each other’s neck for an hour or two.
Actually, a larger ship sounded like a brilliant idea but it wasn’t going to happen. She was still paying off her tiny bucket of bolts.
Nisha and Nathaniel argued excitedly about what they should do first: get the boring and tedious supply shopping done—because soap and shampoo were so boring—or find a sweet shop and splurge the pocket change Ragnar had given them on chocolate.
“What will you do?” Ragnar asked her, eyes gleaming.
Priya stretched, hands above her head, aware of how his eyes followed her. “I was thinking about getting a massage and working out this kink in my shoulder.”
“A massage,” he rumbled out, stepping closer. The male was so warm, she snuggled into him instinctively. His arms felt comfortable and correct around her.
“Oh gross,” Nisha said in a whine unique to adolescents.
“Busted,” Priya said with a smile.
“This is why we need a larger ship.” Ragnar continued on with his favorite grumble about privacy.
“Lord Ragnar’s not used to tight quarters,” Priya said, giving Nisha a wink.
“Double gross.”
“Come on. There’s a whole moon out there ready and willing to part us from our credit.”
Security waited for Priya when she exited the ship.
“This ship is being impounded,” a stoic faced man said.
“What! Why?”
As if summoned from mid-air, a swarm of dock workers appeared with tools and efficient purpose. Faster than she would have believed possible, clamps were placed on the ship. She wasn’t going anywhere.
“Delinquent payments. The loan holder got tired of,” the stoic man checked his tablet, “entertaining your whims.”
“It does not say that.” Priya snatched the tablet.
It did indeed say that.
“Gracious,” she said, shoving the tablet back at the man. This had all the hallmarks of the petty, vindictive Talmar male. “But he doesn’t hold the loan.”
“Listen, lady, I don’t care. Pay off what you owe or get busy finding alternative transport.”
“What about my things? This ship is my…” Her livelihood and her home.
“You’ve got twenty-four hours to clear it out, so—” The man shrugged. “Do what you want.”
Priya felt the weight of her family, watching her for clues to their fate. No ship and no home and only a few credits to her name.
“Priya?” Nora rubbed a hand in the center of her back in a familiar, soothing gesture. Tension she did not realize she carried melted away. “We’ll be okay, baby.”
She took a deep breath. Panic and blubbering would do her no good. “Whatever we do, we need to eat. Why don’t you find us dinner? And something that travels well.”
“You need to eat better than those instant noodles.”
“Mom, not now. Something that will keep and doesn’t need to be refrigerated, okay?”
Nora nodded.
Priya looked back at the ship. How much could she pack up? A duffle bag? A box? No. The family would most likely be renting bunk space on a freighter soon. She needed to travel light.
Maybe she could get a discount on their fares if she worked. A ship couldn’t have too many pilots, after all.
“This expression… I do not like it,” Ragnar said.
Priya laughed, thin and weak. “Can’t say I’m a fan of it myself.”
He chuffed and turned back to the ship, hands on his hips, the lord surveying his domain. At length he said, “Our next ship will be larger. With a private cleansing room.”
The laughs just kept coming.
“Oh yeah? And with what money?”
“My money.”
“No. Nope. No way.” Bad enough he bought her family’s freedom, she didn’t need to be in debt to him for this, too. A rich male’s generosity only stretched so far and she didn’t want to see the final bill when he finally collected.
“Do not be modest. You are my mate. Your family is my family now. We require transport.”
“Transport, yes,” Priya said, latching on to that for argument’s sake. “We’ll find a ship heading to Wye and rent some bunks. I’ll work to pay my fare. I’m sure there’s something we can do. Nathaniel is good with machines. Maybe they need a grease monkey or someone to scrub the floors. We’ll find something.”
He turned back toward her, fixing her in place with his green reptilian stare. She hated it when he did that. “I do not think you understand. Wye is a closed planet.”
“So? Lots of places are weird about borders and trade.”
“Closed. Completely isolated. No one comes to Wye to trade or visit. There will be no freighters to hitch a ride on. None.”
Complete isolation. How was that even possible in the modern Interstellar Union? Trade and people moved freely in all the planetary systems. Oh. Wye wasn’t in the IU.
“Then we’ll hire a private ship. It’ll be pricey but still cheaper than buying a ship outright.”
“An unregistered vessel will not be allowed in the atmosphere on promise of destruction.”
“The spaceport?”
“The port barely has the capacity for the necessary military vessels. It will be turned away.”
“Then how the hell did you think my ship was going to make it to Wye if the options were being turned away or blown out of the sky?”
A feral smile of a male used to getting his way flickered across his handsome face. She wanted to slap the handsome right off of him.
“Because the queen is my grandmother, and while I am not her favorite, I flatter myself to think she has some fondness for me. I am not the grandson she exiled.”
“So, your plan was to beg for permission to land?” For crying out loud. Wye destroyed unknown ships and he wanted to bet their lives, her life, on his grandmother’s mood?
“I’m sure we wouldn’t have waited long. My mother did order me home and a dutiful son always obeys his mother.” He pulled her into an embrace, pressing his mouth against her ear. His tongue flicked out and traced the shell of her ear. “Let me buy you a ship.”
This time she didn’t resist the urge to slap him.
“You arrogant bastard,” she hissed, struggling to escape his grip. “I’m homeless here. My family is depending on me and you’re sticking your tongue in my ear!”
“Ugh, gross!” Nisha whined.
Ragnar released her. “A private vessel is our only option. You can be blinded by your pride and try a dozen schemes, but they will all fail, or you can let me help.”
“Then we’ll stay here!” She only agreed to go to Wye for the wedding. She didn’t have to drag her family.
“And renege on our bargain?”
Priya shook her head. “I’ll marry you but I’m not going to your closed, isolated little planet. I
’m sticking with my family and if they can't get there, so be it.” Rebus Moon wasn’t nice, not by a long shot, but it wasn’t terrible.
“And the Talmar who did this? You think he wants your ship or he wants your stubbornness to leave you waiting in his trap?”
His words chilled her. Her shoulders slumped and she nodded her head. Gracious had something planned and part of that plan was her being stuck here. “Fine. You’re right, but I don’t want a gift.”
“A groom gives his bride a gift in my culture.”
“And in my culture a bride has a dowry. She comes to the marriage with wealth.”
Ragnar stroked his chin. “Interesting. A bargain then.”
“Terms?”
“Give me an additional year.”
Two years. She didn’t dislike Ragnar but he made he want to pull her hair out in frustration. Could she do two years of pretending to be his wife? What did the mate of Wyer nobility do, anyway? Certainly, not run courier jobs or pilot starships.
She did some quick and dirty math. Compared to what he paid for the first year, he was getting a bargain. All she had to pay was time.
Leathery green wings flexed, catching her eye. She gave him a once-over before meeting his eyes. The vertical slit expanded and contracted. He was handsome, she’d give him that. The heat between them promised to burn up the bed sheets. Would marriage be so bad? But marriage was more than smoking hot sex. It was about trust and commitment.
And their marriage was fake.
“The rest of the bargain stays the same?” she asked.
“I will set your family up wherever they please, that has not changed, but your family is welcome to stay on my estate as long as they please. I caution you that it is not luxurious or even genteel. It is a working farm that needs, honestly, work.”
“Stars that sounds perfect,” she said with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll give you an additional year.”
He sealed their bargain with a kiss.
***
“What do you think?” Ragnar marched up the ramp of the New Leaf, a Conestoga model ship. The workhorse of cargo freighters in the Interstellar Union, the Conestoga wasn’t fancy but it was dependable. In production for more than a century, parts were readily available and the engines were legendary for their user-friendly features; it was the single most common ship flying.
Priya hated the squat, ugly ship on principle.
The ramp opened directly into the sizable cargo bay. Engineering was tucked into the back with space optimized to jam as much freight in as possible. Boring.
“What would I do with a ship this size? It’s huge.” The docking fees would be enormous.
“Don’t make your mind up before you’ve seen the top level.” Ragnar climbed the circular staircase in the center of the ship.
The top floor had an open floor plan with two semi-circular walls. The south wall functioned as the galley kitchen with a table large enough for the entire family. The north wall was an entertainment and lounge area. The open floor space meant there was enough room for a restless person to stretch their legs, or wings, as Ragnar demonstrated with a flex of his shoulders.
“Now you’re just showing off,” Priya said drily.
“Is it working?” That familiar cocky smile sparked her own. Ragnar took a step toward her, hands running up her arms. He was a furnace, his touching branding her. She sighed and leaned into his touch. A larger ship would afford them privacy and with privacy, Ragnar could lay his fiery hot hands all over her aching body.
“Is that Navigation?” Priya pulled away, leaving Ragnar growling with frustration.
A circular hallway surrounded the common area. Cabins were on the outside. Standard design. Navigation was in a self-contained room at the front of the ship.
Priya sank into the leather seat. “Oh my stars, heated seats.” She melted, letting the gentle heat work out the knot in her shoulder.
She checked out the console’s layout. It was a standard design. Yeah, she could work with this. Prying herself out of the amazing chair, she inspected the cabins.
“How many cabins?” she asked.
“Four.”
“We don’t need that many.” Four cabins? She wasn’t going to start ferrying tourists.
“One for your parents, one for Nisha, Nathaniel and one for us.”
The rumble in his voice made her shiver.
The cabin was spacious. Very spacious compared to the cramped living quarters on the Dashing Canard.
“Each cabin has a private cleansing room,” he said.
“Nice.” No more Nisha and Nathaniel fighting over hot water. She poked at the controls, opened cabinets, and tested functions. The water come out instantly hot. The toilet flushed. All important things to know.
“What do you think?”
His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her toward him. He lowered his head, his gaze heated. He was so warm, burning up even. She didn’t realize how chilly the ship was until his heat pressed against her. Now she couldn’t get warm unless she touched him.
“I think,” she said slowly, placing her hand on the back of his neck, drawing him in, “that the docking fees on this behemoth will be enormous.”
“Did I mention the cabin doors lock from the inside?” He stepped forward. She matched his movement, stepping back. They continued until her back pressed against the bulkhead. “And this cabin doesn’t share a wall with the other cabins.”
“Mmm. You’ve put some thought into this.”
“I value privacy. Our privacy.” His hands cupped her bottom, pulling her up to him until she stood on her tiptoes.
“Privacy is sexy.” Well, it was sexy when he talked about it.
He lifted her and her legs wrapped around his waist. Pinning between the immovable bulkhead and the immovable bulk of Ragnar’s body, Priya lost herself in his fiery kisses. He consumed her and she could totally see the value in privacy.
“Ugh, gross. Get a room.”
Ragnar broke away, growling. Priya patted his shoulder reassuringly. “That’s what we’re doing, Nisha.”
Her sister rolled her eyes so hard, Priya was surprised she didn’t tumble out of the room.
“I think we just claimed this cabin as ours,” Priya said.
“You approve of this ship?”
She didn’t really have a choice. It was what they needed. The idea of such a large gift from Ragnar still left a bad taste in her mouth. Perhaps if their relationship were real, if they loved each other, she wouldn’t feel so… Cheap wasn’t the word. If anything, she was turning into a hellacious expense for the Wyer male, which just confused her. Ragnar could have anyone he wanted. He had his pick of beautiful and famous women. Why ordinary her?
“It’ll get the job done,” she said.
The marriage might be phony but their chemistry was real. Their connection was real. That had to mean something.
Chapter Eleven
Ragnar
With six people, moving Priya’s scant possessions from the old ship to new went quickly. She hung a pair of red fuzzy dice in the cockpit, claiming it to be Terran tradition. Once the Barbers were situated in the still-unnamed-ship, the lack of basic necessities became obvious. The ship needed to be outfitted with linens for the beds, dishes for the kitchen, toiletries and the family literally had only the clothes on their backs. The sani-unit kept everything clean but a person needed more than one pair of socks. Ragnar was a firm believer in multi-sock ownership.
Of course, if he offered to purchase these items, Priya would turn him down.
So he quietly ordered them from his tablet and had them delivered directly to the ship.
Priya fluttered her hands at the packages and protested, as he knew she would. All the while Nisha and Nora tore into the delivery, unpacking the contents.
“It’s too much,” Priya said.
“We need blankets. And pillows. And plates. And cups.” He continued to list the basic, everyday items the new ship lacked.
“He’s right,” Nora said, unpacking a set of dishes on the table. “We’re going to eat real food now, so we need real plates and silverware. And we can’t all share the same blanket.”
Priya’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “Fine. If you need me, I’ll be setting our course.”
Ragnar moved to follow her. He hated to see his mate upset.
A hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Give her some space,” Hamish said. He drew Ragnar off to the side, away from the bustle of Nora and Nisha. “But while I’ve got you, let me ask you something.”
Ragnar nodded. He hadn’t spent much time alone with Priya’s father and the male’s motivations were unknown. “Certainly.”
“We can’t accept your charity,” Hamish said. “All this is very kind but it’s too much.”
Understanding dawned on Ragnar. “Ah, I see where she gets it.”
“Gets what?”
“Her stubborn pride.”
A smile cracked Hamish’s face. “You know what they say about apples falling from the tree.”
Ragnar didn’t but he let it slide. “You are my family now. This is not charity or pity.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing.” Hamish rubbed his chin. “Priya says you’re engaged but she’s never talked about you or even mentioned that she was seeing someone, let alone getting hitched. And my girl ain’t the impulsive type. So, I don’t know what she’s not telling me but it makes me mighty uncomfortable accepting all these gifts.”
Stubborn and clever; like father like daughter.
Ragnar pulled out the tablet from his pocket. The thin material unfolded. He flicked through and selected the correct photo. Kolle’s dark eyes and chubby face filled the screen, fist in mouth.
“Is that your kid?” Hamish asked.
“My cousin’s nestling. Kolle. The light of my life.” Ragnar flicked through multiple photos of Kolle with parents, grandparents and members of the Firestar crew.
“Is it a girl or a boy?”
Ragnar: Dragon Lord of Wye Page 8
