Dangerous Men, Dangerous Places

by Krystal Brookes

  “Where...?”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re safe–for now. How are you feeling?”

  “Sore and groggy,” she replied quietly.

  She couldn’t quite make out the man in the dim light. She didn’t recognize his voice or where she was. Her memory was still fuzzy but something in the back of her mind scared her. She seemed to be alone with this man and she certainly was not in a hospital.

  “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you crash land your shuttle into a planet Ms. Scott.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “Your ID was in your pocket. And your phase gun was in your holster.”

  “Where is my gun now?” Gemma asked, trying to stop the fear in her voice.

  “It’s safe.” The man moved forward into the thin shaft of light coming from the dim overhead light on the ceiling of the hut they seemed to be in. The man was tall, muscular and tanned, with a shock of medium length brown hair. She recognized him, but couldn’t quite recall from where.

  “I’d prefer it if you returned my gun. I need it.”

  “I said it’s safe.”

  She sat for a few moments trying to remember what had happened. She knew she had to get her gun back from this man but her head was too befuddled to form a coherent argument for now.

  As the details of the accident came back to her, she squinted again at her rescuer, trying to recall how she knew him. She felt her blood drain as she remembered.

  “I need to fix my shuttle,” said Gemma, hoping that he hadn’t realized who she was.

  “It’s dark outside, you won’t be able to do anything just now.”

  She tried to sit up but a shard of intense pain ripped through her shoulder and made her fall back on the pillow.

  “You dislocated your shoulder, so I had to put it back in the socket. It’s going to be sore for a while.”

  She rubbed her shoulder and grimaced.

  “Thanks, I think.”

  “If I’d left you in that shuttle, believe me, you would have been murdered or worse.”

  “What’s worse than being murdered?”

  “On this planet? Not being murdered and being kept alive long enough to be aware of what they’re doing to you.”

  She shuddered.

  “Thank you for not leaving me. I heard them banging on the shuttle hull. How did you get rid of them?”

  “I have a reputation around here. Apparently I can rip a man’s throat out with my teeth.”

  “Oh!” She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear any more. The man smiled wolfishly at her.

  “Don’t worry, Gemma. I’m not hungry just now.”

  She did her best not to show her fear. Not having her phase pistol was a problem. She always felt braver on the other end of the cold slender metal tool.

  “Umm, what’s your name?”

  “Rob. Rob Paris.”

  His name triggered the memory that she had buried under a hundred other missions. He was a terrorist and she had hunted him for weeks before he had turned up on an abandoned planet on the edge of Terran space. She’d stunned him and kept him unconscious as she had transported him on her shuttle back to Earth to face trial. She wondered if he would remember her. She’d shot him from behind, so with a bit of luck, he hadn’t made the connection.

  “Pleased to meet you. Are you a prisoner here?”

  “What do you think?” he drawled.

  “Well, I assumed but...”

  “But what?”

  “Never mind. Can I get my pistol please?”

  “I said I was keeping it safe.”

  “That’s very kind of you but I’d prefer to have it, if it’s all the same to you.”

  Rob walked over and sat on the bed. He clasped her chin roughly in his hand and moved her head back, peering into her eyes. He let go as suddenly as he had grabbed her.

  “Hmph! You’re definitely slightly concussed. As for your pistol; you’re in no shape to be carrying a fire arm. If any of those brutes came in here, you’d never be able to get it out the holster quick enough to kill them.”

  “I always have my pistol set to stun.”

  “I noticed.”

  “You noticed?”

  “Well, I noticed it was set to stun when I took it from you.” Gemma looked hard at him. Did he know? His gaze was unwavering and she was having difficulty reading him.

  Gritting her teeth, she swung her legs out of the bed. Her shoulder was agony. Only then did she realize that she was wearing nothing but her bra and panties.

  “Where are my clothes?”

  “Over here.” His gaze held hers before sweeping briefly and appreciatively over her semi-naked form. He walked to the back of the hut and retrieved her leather pants, t-shirt and jacket. “Your boots are under the bed. I had to get a good look at that shoulder.”

  “You didn’t have to take my pants off,” she scowled.

  “I had to check you for injuries. Your knee was in an odd position when I found you. I thought your leg might be broken.”

  “I take it my leg is OK.”

  “Looked fine to me.”

  Gemma was struggling to get into the t-shirt as she could barely move her shoulder. Rob came over and took the light cotton shirt from her.

  “Put your bad arm in first.” He showed her then helped her get the t-shirt over her head and her other arm into the garment. “Now that you feel respectable, get back into bed and I’ll bring you some soup and bread.”

  “I need to get dressed and go to my shuttle.”

  “Look, lady!” He had grabbed her good arm and was holding her tight. “You can’t go out there. It’s not safe. This is a prison planet and the residents aren’t exactly receptive to visitors. A lot of them haven’t seen a female in a good many years and would be looking for a lot more than a date.”

  “OK, I get the point,” Gemma said, shrugging him off. She looked up into his dark brown eyes. His face was close to hers and his eyes mesmerized her. She could feel her heartbeat increase. He was gorgeous... but dangerous. And how would he react if he found out who she was?

  “Just follow my instructions and you’ll be fine.”

  “Why should I trust you?”

  “Have you come to any harm yet?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “No.”

  “Well then, why not live dangerously and give me a chance to prove that I’m trustworthy.”

  Gemma knew she had no choice. She was stuck and alone, and so far Rob had helped her. She had to take the chance. She pushed herself back on the bed and pulled the covers over her bare legs.

  “I’ll get the soup,” he muttered. He moved through a small door, which Gemma assumed led to some kind of kitchen.

  Gemma sat back on the pillows. She seemed to have a ton of problems and no real idea how she was going to solve any of them. Her head and her shoulder were hurting and she felt sleepy.

  He returned with a tray made of wood. On top was a bowl and spoon and some bread. He laid it down on her lap then went back into the kitchen area before returning with a mug and a hunk of bread.

  “Are you not having soup?” she asked.

  “Yeah, but I’m having it in a mug. I’m afraid they don’t provide us with a six place dinner service when we arrive.”

  “Oh right. Of course. Sorry.” She felt so stupid. He had been such a help that it was difficult to remember he was a criminal. And a dangerous one at that.

  “No need to be sorry. You weren’t to know. So how did you manage to crash land on a prison planet?”

  “I was in the area, I lost an engine, then the second one died too. This was the only habitable planet within reach. I guess self-preservation and instinct made me take a chance, even though I knew this planet is Alcatraz. As my mother always says: Where there’s life, there’s hope.”

  “Your mother is a sensible woman.”

  “Sometimes.” She pushed her hair out of her eyes. The pony tail had all but come out and her hair was falling around her face,
irritating her. But she couldn’t lift her arm on the left side to fix it because of the pain in her shoulder.

  “Eat your dinner and then I’ll fix your hair. I’ll loosely braid it so it’s comfortable but out of your face.”

  “Umm, thanks.” She studied him, trying to understand this man who seemed to be a mass of contradictions. He had scared her earlier but was now being very sweet.

  Gemma hated feeling as vulnerable as she was now. She was used to spending time hunting criminals in seedy bars and undesirable outposts. Sometimes she dressed as a cop, sometimes as a whore and sometimes as a pimp. It didn’t matter how she got her information: what mattered was that she found her prey. And now here she was–vulnerable and needing the help of this man who had been no challenge at all for her to capture.

  When she had finished her food and Rob had cleaned everything away, he brought her bag to her. She retrieved her hairbrush and handed it to him. He gently and carefully undid the elastic that was holding her messy auburn hair back. He brushed it in long slow strokes, carefully fixing the knots and tangles as he went. Eventually, the brush glided through unhampered. He sectioned it off and started to braid the long tresses.

  “You’re very good at this. How did you learn to braid hair?” She could feel his breath on the back of her neck and she shuddered involuntarily.

  “I used to do it for Rosie.”

  “Rosie? Is she a wife, girlfriend?”

  “No. My daughter.”

  “You have a daughter?”

  “Had. Past tense. She and my wife were killed in a terrorist attack on Dallag Prime two years ago.”

  “Dallag Prime?”

  “Yes. I’m sure you remember it. And I’m sure you have already realized that I was sentenced to life here for having planted the bomb.”

  “I’m not sure I had made the connection.”

  “Well, just in case you were wondering, I didn’t do it. I’m far from perfect but I never killed innocent civilians.”

  “Did you ever kill non-civilians?”

  Silence. A silence that spoke volumes to Gemma. But then, she was in no position to judge. A couple of times she’d been forced to kill those she hunted in self-defense. He had probably been a soldier in the Terran-Varsi war.

  He tied the elastic at the bottom of the braid and climbed back off the bed. “That should be better for you.”

  “Thanks.” She patted her hair and realized it was much neater than she could ever make it.

  “I think you should sleep now. If you move right against the wall, there should be room for both of us.”

  “You’re going to sleep in here too?” She couldn’t share a bed with Rob. Apart from the fact he was a convicted terrorist, when he was near her she could feel her body responding to him.

  “They forgot to leave me a guest room as well as the six piece dinner service.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Don’t worry, Ms. Scott. I’m a convicted terrorist, not a rapist.”

  “I... I .. I didn’t mean that. I...”

  “I know what you were thinking. I don’t hurt women, no matter what they do for a living.”

  Gemma felt her jaw drop and her eyes widen. He did know who she was. She was sure of it.

  Rob pulled his t-shirt off, revealing a broad, tanned chest and muscular arms. He moved closer to her, undoing his pants and pulling them down as he sat on the bed

  “It doesn’t take a genius to work out that you’re a bounty hunter. The equipment inside your shuttle gives you away.”

  “Is my job a problem for you?”

  He climbed in beside her and shrugged.

  “Everyone has to make a living I suppose.”

  If he knew she had been the one who captured him, would be so blasé? She moved as far away from him as possible as he settled himself on the pillow next to hers. It had been a while since she had shared her bed with a man. Her last relationship had broken up over a year ago.

  Rob suddenly leaned over her, and she froze. He lifted his head and smiled at her.

  “Relax. The switch for the light is on your side. I’m just turning it off.” Her breath hitched as the warmth of his body reached her skin through the flimsy cotton of her t-shirt. He obviously heard her small sound and his grin widened.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had crashed your shuttle on purpose, Gemma.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she countered as the light snapped off. She tried to turn her back to him but her shoulder was far too sore. She was relieved when he turned onto his side to face away from her. Soon she heard his breathing slow and deepen, and she could tell he was asleep. At last she allowed herself to relax and fall into a fitful sleep.

  ~* * *~

  Gemma woke to find Rob lying facing her, his arm draped over her waist and his morning glory pressed tantalizingly against her thigh. For a moment, his virility excited her until she remembered who this man was and how dangerous he was.

  Using her good arm, she pushed his shoulder. He grunted and rolled onto his back. His eyes flickered open and it took a minute or two before he turned to her and smiled.

  “How did you sleep?” His voice sounded genuine.

  “I woke up a few times with the pain,” Gemma admitted.

  “I was unable to pry the med kit free in your shuttle. Maybe we could try again today. I assume there are analgesics in there.”

  “Yes. There are also duranium metal cutters in the shuttle to help get it out.”

  “Good. We’ll do it after breakfast. Just give me a minute to collect myself and I’ll get up.”

  He adjusted himself under the covers and lay for a few more moments before sitting up and pulling on a t-shirt. He moved to the back of the hut. Gemma dragged herself off the bed and retrieved her pants. She managed to put them on without much difficulty. She then put on her socks and boots. Once she was dressed, she moved to the kitchen area to find him cooking.

  “I’m fine with just a piece of toast or some cereal,” she said.

  “You need some protein. I’m making some French toast. I found some bird eggs the other day. They’re a bit stronger than hen eggs but still pretty tasty.”

  Gemma didn’t feel like arguing with someone who was clearly making an effort to look after her. He used the spatula to indicate three crates. Two smaller ones and a larger one. They must be what he used as a table and chairs. She sat down and waited. He produced a small wooden plate with three pieces of French toast for her and a fork.

  “We can get cutlery and some plates from the shuttle too until we can make the shuttle operational again.”

  “It’s pretty badly damaged. It might be best to work on the communications array and get them to come and rescue you.”

  “Hmm, we’ll see. I’m pretty handy with a sonic screw driver.”

  “I think it will take a bit more than some amateur DIY.” Gemma smiled. He was a typical man, assuming she knew nothing about technology.

  “I’m a qualified engineer. That’s what I studied at university–space engineering.”

  “Oh! What on earth made you become a bounty hunter then?”

  “Thrill of the chase, I guess. And it’s good money.”

  “You do know that there will be prisoners on this planet who you will have captured, don’t you?” he asked.

  “The thought had occurred to me.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”

  Gemma stopped eating and watched him lift the French toast to his mouth, a scowl gracing her features.

  “Why are you helping me?” she asked eventually. He looked up and shrugged.

  “You needed help and I was here.”

  “But you know what I do for a living.”

  “You didn’t capture me, did you?”

  What should she say? Should she admit it or not? Should she tell him that she had shot him in the back and then loaded him unconscious onto her shuttle bound for Earth? Her hesitation told him more information than she had wanted him to know. She noticed a h
ardness in his gaze now as he continued eating. She wasn’t hungry anymore.

  “Eat!” he growled.

  “I’m not hungry,” she insisted.

  “Look, Ms. Scott, I don’t care if you’re hungry or not. We don’t waste food out here and you need food to help you heal.”

  She considered arguing with him but decided that, at this point, retreat was probably the better form of valor. She picked up the last piece of French toast and forced it down. When they finished, he stood up and walked over to the bed, smoothing out the covers.

  “Right, we had better get to the shuttle. The quicker you’re off this planet, the better.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed. She wanted to escape this man.

  She could feel the heat from his gaze in her core. His look was a mixture of disgust and desire. He was certainly having a disconcerting effect on her too.

  He grabbed a piece of material then approached her. She shrunk away from him.

  “I was going to make this into a sling for you. It will keep your arm still and help with the pain.”

  “Oh!” He was clearly angry that she was the bounty hunter who had captured him but he was also showing great compassion and care for her and her injuries. She turned and allowed him to quickly tie the material into a sling. As he moved the cloth under her elbow, he gently brushed her breast.

  Involuntarily, she sucked in a breath in surprise, aware that he was struggling to stop the corners of his mouth from turning up into a smile.

  He finished tying the knot and straightened up slightly. They were standing so close that she could feel his body heat. His breath washed over her face and his brown eyes blackened with desire. Suddenly his mouth was on hers, massaging, prodding, demanding entry. It took her so completely by surprise that she opened her mouth, accepting his exploring tongue before she had time to think about what was happening.

  Despite the obvious desire and need in him, he was gentle, lightly cupping the back of her head and holding his body away from her enough that he didn’t hurt her arm.

  She was kissing him back. And what was more, she was thoroughly enjoying it. She wanted to pull his hips against her own but her injured arm served as an unwelcome barrier between them.