by Ivy Barrett
* * *
“You can’t keep her here against her will. I won’t be party to that sort of manipulation.”
Awareness flooded Cassie’s consciousness, filling her mind with images and impressions. She saw a young woman with golden hair and cautious hazel eyes. Andrea Raynier. She knew the human geneticist had spoken as surely as she knew her name, but Cassie had no idea how the knowledge had been imparted to her. Andrea stood beside a desk in a brightly lit office. Unlike the dilapidated lab, this room appeared freshly furnished and newly occupied. They must have reached the Stilox headquarters.
Roark Talbot sat behind an orderly desk. Fane watched Andrea, waiting to see if she’d say more—and realization struck. Cassie was in Fane’s mind. She was seeing through his eyes. She knew what he knew, could access his memories! That’s how she’d identified the human. Could he sense her presence? She eased into the shadows, released her hold on the scene until their voices were barely whispers. It didn’t seem to make a difference.
Her nanites had heightened her natural telepathic abilities, but nothing like this had ever happened before. At least nothing that she instigated. Even with nanite assistance, her skill was moderate at best.
Carefully pushing forward again, she took stock of the situation. Fane sat in a chair facing Roark while Mal Ton lounged near the doorway. She could sense their excitement at finally having Max in custody, but the opportunities presented via her presence were far more intriguing. Fascinated by the phenomenon, she focused on what they were saying.
“Were you harmed during your captivity?” Roark challenged. His bright teal eyes filled with heated memories as he looked at his mate. His mate? Yes, Andrea was his mate. But wasn’t she human?
“That’s beside the point.” A pretty pink blush colored Andrea’s cheeks. “There’s no reason for Cassie to be… motivated. Let me explain the situation and I’m sure she’ll cooperate.”
Mal Ton chuckled, drawing Cassie’s attention to the doorway where he stood. “Your interaction with the Protarian elite is obviously limited. Cassie Myer has been indoctrinated from the cradle to hate all things Stilox.”
It was a sweeping generalization. Even so, Cassie found it hard to contradict.
Andrea’s chin came up and her shoulders squared. “We aren’t asking her to help a Stilox rebel. We need her to stabilize a human refugee.”
Cassie paused over the concept. Would she be more apt to help a refugee than a rebel? No. People were people. This war had damaged indiscriminately. Did they really think she was so shallow? Then why did you have to stop and think about it?
“It’s not just Lorelle,” Roark reminded. “Doctor Myer was directly involved in the development of the last two counteragents. She knows more about the lentavirus than anyone on Protaria.”
“And as soon as Howyn realizes we have her, he’ll tear Stilox apart to get her back,” Mal Ton said. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
That was certainly true. Her father was nothing if not possessive and completion of her current project meant even more to him than his daughter’s life. Luckily for her, the project couldn’t be completed without her input.
“No one touches Cassie but me.” Fane’s tone allowed no argument and tingling heat vibrated through Cassie’s being. Was she ready for more of his consuming desire? She had been so susceptible to him the first time around. Did she dare risk a second exposure?
“Don’t forget the human captives,” Roark persisted. “Howyn promised to release them as soon as we rescued his daughter. This is a treacherous balancing act.”
“Howyn has no intention of releasing the hostages. He never did,” Mal Ton said.
Dread’s icy fingers dragged Cassie toward reality. Her father had offered the humans in exchange for her safe return? The rebels had every right to be suspicious. Well, so did she! Even now they were plotting her seduction, planning the best way to ‘motivate’ her.
“Aren’t the hostages at greater risk if Howyn learns we have Cassie?” Andrea grumbled.
“He won’t,” Mal Ton insisted. “Sean is on his way back to Protaria. After he turns Max over to Fane’s people, he’ll continue his search of the capitol. Sean knows Sanctum better than anyone. He lived on the streets for years.”
“I suspect Cassie can help with the hostages too.” Fane drew their attention back to the crux of the issue. “I just need to convince her to cooperate.”
Anticipation sizzled through Fane and arced into Cassie. He allowed his mind to wander, dragging her along with him. The memories were familiar. She’d indulged in the sensual echoes frequently over the years, yet there was an urgency in his mind that she’d never experienced before. He savored the wildness, let the savage energy take him for just a moment then suppressed the consuming hunger as if it had never been.
Stunned and tingling, Cassie felt the link slipping beyond her grasp.
“I want to talk to her before you start playing games.” Andrea looked at Fane as she added, “And you’re going to let me.”
Fane laughed. “I am? Who designated you commander of this outpost?”
Their voices were distant and distorted. Cassie concentrated, pouring what was left of her energy into the connection. It was no use. Her consciousness was sucked from the scene by a force far stronger than her will.
Awareness dimmed as she neared her body. She lay on a padded treatment table. It was obviously Fane’s intention to take advantage of the situation. He would exploit their attraction and use carnal hunger against her, unless she turned the tables on him first. Was she brave enough? Could she be that bold?
She clung to the information she’d gleaned during the vision, refusing to lose one trivial fact. One moment of terrifying blackness assailed her then she sprang up with a gasp. The room swam in and out of focus as she reached blindly for the rails. Her temples thumped out a painful echo of her heartbeat. She ignored the discomfort and fumbled with the trigger, lowering the bedrail on one side. She needed to be standing when they entered. The bed was too defenseless, too vulnerable.
Her toes jerked away from the cold tiles and she looked at her feet. Had she always been barefoot? The past few days had become a surreal blur… or had it only been one day?
The overhead lights activated as the door slid open. The blonde hustled into the room followed immediately by Fane. She only spared Andrea a glance, noting the accuracy of her vision, before her attention focused entirely on her adversary, her lover, her equal and opposite… She didn’t analyze the melodramatic thought. A shiver of anticipation danced down her spine as she allowed the fact to penetrate her mind then she moved on.
“Where am I?” She kept her hands at her sides, her stance loose, prepared for either attack or escape. Incapacitation was no longer an option. Her nanites were programmed to kill with the second strike.
“You’re still on Stilox,” Andrea said, cautiously approaching, “but you’re safe. No one will hurt you now.”
“Are you sure about that?” Fane asked with a provocative smile. His crystal green eyes moved over Cassie with obvious interest.
“I’m positive.” Andrea shot him an annoyed look.
They remained on the far side of the bed, which kept them between Cassie and the door. “Who are you?” she felt obligated to ask. Without the vision, she wouldn’t have known.
“I’m Andrea Raynier and I just want to talk to you.”
Cassie finger-combed her hair off her brow as she debated her next move. “Why was I brought here? This seems extravagant if all you’re trying to do is protect the location of your new headquarters.”
“We weren’t responsible for this opportunity,” Andrea came closer, her expression earnest and hopeful, “but we can’t squander it. Your skills are too valuable and we need your help too desperately.”
She glanced at Fane, unable to resist the impulse yet unwilling to reveal how much his presence affected her. He’d used her, seduced her with single-minded focu
s and utter disregard. After imprinting his image on her brain, she returned her attention to the human. “Are you asking for my assistance or explaining your expectations?”
“I’m not sure I see the difference.” Andrea slipped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat, obviously unnerved by the conversation.
“Assistance is asked of a guest. Expectations are explained to a prisoner.” She stared into Andrea’s eyes, her tone firm without being aggressive.
Andrea tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking less comfortable with each exchange. “If you’ll abide by a few basic rules, we’ll consider you our guest.”
Foresight was a wonderful thing. She had never felt more secure in her position. “Will I be able to contact my father?”
Andrea looked at Fane for support. He just smiled and said, “Surely you didn’t think it would be that easy.”
She turned back to Cassie with a sigh. “I suspect you’ll consider yourself a prisoner no matter what I say, so let’s move on to the actual project.”
“Let’s not.” Cassie had to make her move now before Fane entered the negotiation. Once he asserted himself things would get complicated fast. “I’m not a fool. You mentioned my skills, so I have a good idea what your project or projects entail. I’m far more interested in the details of my incarceration.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call it that.”
“If you’re uncomfortable with incarceration, you shouldn’t take prisoners.” She rounded the bed and faced Andrea directly.
“She didn’t take you prisoner,” Fane reminded. “I did. Now back off.”
“I’ll deal with you in a moment.” Cassie turned back to Andrea before he could do more than glare. “We both know my only motivation is to return home as quickly as possible.” He chuckled, the sound so provocative Cassie could feel it against her skin. “How long will I be trapped here on Stilox?”
“That’s entirely up to you.” Andrea kept glancing at Fane, but Cassie kept her gaze fixed on the human.
“My release is contingent upon my success?”
“Yes.”
“Is there more than one project?”
“There are three.”
Three? Damn. This could take a lot longer than she expected. “Have you prioritized them, or should I?”
“We have.” Fane grasped her upper arm and pulled her away from Andrea.
She yelped and shoved against his chest with both hands, careful to keep her index finger raised. “You have no reason to touch me.”
“I don’t need a reason.” He pushed his fingers into her hair and made a loose fist, securing her head without pulling her hair. She was more surprised by his restraint than his aggression. He leaned in close, angling her head until their mouths aligned. His lips hovered over hers. Threatening? Promising? She couldn’t decide which he was attempting to convey. “What are you up to?”
“I’m cooperating. Isn’t that why you’re here, to ensure my cooperation?” She dared to look into his eyes as she asked the question and her heart clumsily dropped a beat. What was wrong with her? She was supposed to go on the offensive.
“You can’t escape. Even if you get out of this complex, the atmosphere is toxic. Can you pilot a shuttle? Why are you giving in without a fight?”
She could pilot a shuttle if it came to that, but it wouldn’t. All she needed was a com panel. A distress signal attached to her personal code would immediately notify her father of her exact location. She took a deep breath and reminded herself what she was trying to accomplish. Keep him off balance. Beat him to the finish line. If they were going to become reacquainted, she would control the reunion.
“Are you disappointed?” She dropped her voice to barely a whisper and leaned in to the embrace. “Were you looking forward to the fight?”
“Resistance is in your nature, unless you gain more by giving in.” His warm breath teased her lips and still he made no move to close the minuscule space between them. “You’re plotting something.”
“Either kiss me or let go. This is boring.”
“We both know which you’d prefer.”
It was a stalemate, an emotional standoff. She wanted him with a slow-burning ache, yet she resented him even more. Something obviously held him back, though she couldn’t imagine what it was. He certainly hadn’t hesitated three years ago.
Dare she dream he didn’t want to resort to manipulation? The conversation she’d just overheard extinguished her fledgling hope. He had every intention of seducing her. He was simply waiting for the most opportune moment before he struck.
A thought occurred so suddenly she fought back a triumphant smile. The custom of short-term sexual alliances might be outdated, but it was still valid and it suited the situation to perfection. He would be obligated to protect her from any danger, including his own men. And all she had to do was accept him into her bed. Their attraction was combustible. Trying to resist her desire for him would only make his position more powerful. So why not use his lust to her advantage? She’d tease and tempt, surrender to a point then pull away. Make him so off balance and frustrated that he’d insist she return to her father.
She cleared her throat, trying to sound more composed. “On what do your people vow?”
Suspicion narrowed his eyes while the corners of his mouth curved upward. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s a simple question.” They remained in the half embrace, staring into each other’s eyes.
“Most vow on their lives or their honor.”
“Which means more to you, your life or your honor?”
“My honor by far.”
She accepted the information with a subtle nod. “Vow on your honor that you will protect me while I’m here on Stilox.”
For a long moment he returned her stare, his expression inscrutable. Then he covered his heart with his fist and said, “I vow on my honor that I will protect you with my life during your stay on Stilox. Nothing will harm you while you are in my keeping. You have my solemn vow.”
That was way too easy. Why had he offered his protection without conditions? Her heart beat furiously for a moment, protesting the ease with which she was meeting her goal. The whole situation suddenly felt like a trap about to snap shut around her foolish neck.
Time froze as she scrambled for options. He knew. Somehow he knew exactly what she was doing. His lips parted and he framed her face between his hands, challenge making his eyes shimmer.
“Say it,” he urged in a breathless whisper.
“I don’t know what to…”
His hand returned to her hair, steadily drawing her head back and tilting her face up. “Offer me your vow in return.”
“I vow to… What do you want in exchange for your protection?”
“You proposed the alliance, Cassandra. Surely you know.”
His voice caressed each syllable of her name, sending another set of tingles down her spine. If she cowered now, he won. This had to be her game or they had to be equal participants at the very least. She squared her shoulders and raised her chin as much as his hold on her hair allowed. “I offer companionship and comfort. I vow to accept you willingly into my bed for the duration of our alliance.”
“Actually, you’ll need to come willingly to my bed, but that’s just logistics. The bargain is acceptable to me.”
She braced for the assault on her senses, the first of many she was sure. His mouth slid against hers, guiding, urging her to open for the bold thrust of his tongue. She curled her tongue around his and arched into the heat of his strong body. He needed to believe her surrender was real. His arm encircled her hips, pulling her tight against his body while the kiss went on and on.
“Should I come back…” Andrea sounded more amused than embarrassed.
He eased back with obvious reluctance, his expression savagely possessive. “Do you understand what just happened here?”
There was no way to ignore the sensual promise in his
tone. “We’re more or less… married.”
“You belong to me, no excuses, no pretense. You’re mine.”
“This is temporary.”
His smile was downright wolfish. “If you say so.”
She wiggled as far out of his embrace as he allowed her to go. One hand settled on her hip and the other moved toward her face. “You promised to protect me while I’m on Stilox.”
“I protect what’s mine.” He touched her cheek then traced her lips, his gaze trailing in the wake of his fingertips. “Andrea, would you please show my wife to our apartment and see that she has everything she needs.”
Chapter Three
“She proposed a social alliance? How the fuck did she even know about them? What is she, thirty, thirty-five at the most? I haven’t heard of a social alliance in decades.” Mal Ton leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides, you were supposed to make her your sex slave, not get married.”
Fane glanced around the dimly lit pub, relieved to find they were the only customers. “Control is your game, not mine. I’ve always preferred seduction.”
“I can be very seductive,” Mal Ton objected.
“Not with Cassie, you can’t. You’re officially out of the picture.”
“I’m officially off the market.”
“And this star system breathes a collective sigh of relief.”
Mal Ton gasped in feigned outrage. “I was not that bad.”
Fane laughed. “Like hell you weren’t. Lorelle deserves some sort of medal for clipping your wings.” The bartender handed Fane a mug of murky ale and Fane gave the wiry man a little salute.
“One of yours?”
“One of my what?”
“Don’t play stupid with me, Fane.” Mal Ton reached across the table and grasped his forearm. “Our causes might momentarily align, but I haven’t forgotten that you are not a Stilox freedom fighter.”
