Cold Attraction

by Zoe Ashwood

  She had a vague memory of Taron getting up in the night, making sure they didn’t suffocate, but she’d been too exhausted to even raise her head, let alone help him. She’d lain half awake until he was back at her side, nestled behind her, before she drifted off to sleep again.

  Now she shifted under the covers, slowly turning toward him and trying not to disturb his slumber. His pale face was relaxed in sleep, his short, white-blond eyelashes twin crescents on his cheeks. The strong, aristocratic features were softened by the dim light, and Adriana ached at the sight of him.

  She’d told him she loved him, and he’d said nothing in return.

  A sigh escaped her lips, and Taron stirred, opening his eyes, the initial confusion quickly replaced by sharp focus when he realized he was looking straight at her.

  Adriana smiled tentatively, unsure of how he wanted to proceed. As for herself, she wanted nothing more than to stay here and never return to Volarun, to the secrets and hiding their attraction. She licked her lips, probing the tiny bruise his kisses had left there the night before. With that small touch, memories rushed in, as if her body still bore the impression of his, both on her skin and deep inside.

  Taron never looked away from her, and whatever he saw in her eyes must have tipped him off to her arousal, because he groaned, touching his forehead to hers. “You have killed me.”

  His morning-rough voice rumbled through her, and she shook her head, unable to force the words past the knot in her throat. He’d ruined her, bringing her such unearthly pleasure she’d nearly passed out.

  She had no idea what to do. Pouring her heart out to him had been a mistake—but one she would have repeated if she got a chance to relive the night. She was leaving in two months. There was no time to waste, and she’d forever regret not telling him if she left the planet before she made her confession.

  In the light of the morning, however, she didn’t dare repeat those words. So she closed her eyes and kissed him, touching her lips to his, and slid her palm up his arm, over his firm biceps, to his spiky shoulder. She clung to him when he returned the kiss, his stubble pricking her chin.

  With a quick move, Taron pulled her on top of him. Adriana took him inside, his long, cool erection stretching her until she could take no more. With slow rolls of her hips, she set a steady pace, her gaze never leaving his. Taron’s eyes glittered in the dim light, his features taut with tension, his skin turning dark blue, the same as it had the night before—beautiful, he was devastatingly beautiful, and he had her heart.

  She grasped his shoulders for support, moving faster. He lifted his palms to her breasts and pinched her tender nipples between his fingertips, and she gasped, the first sparks of pleasure already dancing in her veins. Leaning down, she kissed him with all she had, with every ounce of her being, telling him with kisses what she was too afraid to repeat with words.

  But Taron seemed to understand. His big palms on her hips, he helped her move above him, surging into her from below, driving her closer and closer to that sensual cliff. And when she came with his name on her lips, her core tight around his thick, cold cock, she clung to him until he, too, tensed beneath her and came, growling.

  With a satisfied purr, she lifted herself off him and toppled onto the furs by his side. Huffing, she pushed her hair off her face and smiled at him, expecting a goofy grin in return. Instead, Taron’s face seemed hewn from stone, his jaw clenched as he stared at the ceiling of the snow shelter.

  “Hey,” she said, “what are you thinking about?”

  But Taron didn’t even spare her a glance. “Get dressed. We need to go.”

  Adriana was suddenly conscious of the cold, and she pulled on her clothes with trembling hands. What had caused this change in him? He’d seemed playful when he first woke up, but it was as if the sex had stirred up some deep resolve within him. He was dressed in a matter of seconds, and before Adriana could so much as touch him, he was stepping into his boots and heading for the tunnel that led outside.

  Her insides hurt, his rejection stinging worse than she could have imagined. It was her own damn fault, though. She’d clung to him, told him things she should have kept to herself, and scared him off. Time after time, she repeated her mistakes—she thought she’d learned her lesson with humans, but no, she’d driven away the one alien she cared for as well.

  Scuffling noises alerted her to his return, and she faced away from the entrance to compose herself. A moment later, he shoved a protein bar at her.

  “Eat this.” His voice was quiet, but the command was unmistakable.

  Adriana bristled at his tone. “I’m not hungry.”

  “You were nearly hypothermic last night, so you need the calories. Eat it.”

  She opened her mouth to contradict him again, but he was already tidying up, switching off the heat lamp, and folding the blankets. Adriana unwrapped the protein bar and bit in—she wasn’t stubborn enough to starve just to spite him—but the bar tasted like sawdust.

  Forcing down the mealy mouthful, she asked, “How did you find this place?”

  He didn’t reply. She only wanted things to go back to normal, to what they’d been before she foolishly revealed too much of herself. Their ‘normal’ had been her asking question after question, and him answering as best he could.

  But now it seemed he wasn’t in the mood to oblige.

  “Are there many shelters like this one? I imagine it would be deadly to get caught on the plains in such a snowstorm. By the way, is it still snowing outside?” She babbled, filling the silence because she just couldn’t bear it.

  Replacing the last blanket on the neat pile, he half turned toward her, and she could have sworn the corner of his mouth tipped up. It wasn’t a smile, but his expression softened just enough for some tension inside her to release.

  He might not feel for her what she did for him, but at least he wasn’t stone-cold anymore.

  “There are shelters all over the plains, but you have to know where they are to find them. In a storm, they’re indistinguishable from the landscape.” He motioned for her to crawl into the tunnel in front of him, and she obeyed, getting on her hands and knees, shuffling forward until she poked her head out into the clear morning.

  “And no, it’s no longer snowing.”

  Adriana barely heard him. Opening before her was a beautiful, majestic view: the impossibly vast plains of Rendu, extending to the horizon, an unmarred expanse of white. Only the mountains in the distance broke the monotony of the landscape. But for the moon, a pale violet crescent that hung high in the sky, Adriana could have imagined she was somewhere in Antarctica, standing on a mile-thick layer of ice.

  Taron stood next to her, but it wasn’t until she drew a shuddering breath and tore her gaze away from the view that she noticed he was actually watching her. As if she was interesting, arresting, beautiful.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered, no longer able to keep her thoughts to herself. “I know I messed up, and I’m sorry, but you haven’t said a word to me since—”

  “I said plenty last night,” he cut in, his eyes darkening.

  She smacked his shoulder and got a grin in return. Well, at least he was thawing.

  “It’s complicated.” He sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. “Come on, I’ll tell you everything on the way.”

  And he did. They cleared the snow off their ship, scraping the ice off the door panel and windshield, and Taron started talking. He told her about the late king, his cousin, and the regent’s coup, about the queen’s collar and his brothers’ attempts to find some solution that wouldn’t involve a massacre.

  They climbed into the cold cabin and took off, and Taron flew higher, showing her the view from above. The black city of Volarun glittered in the distance, the spires of its palace like claws breaking through the white crust of ice, drawing ever closer. Rendians were a peaceful nation, but their capital testified to the underlying danger that they presented to anyone who would dare attack their planet. She longed
to learn more about the people, their history and their culture, but this situation with the regent took precedence.

  “What’s your plan now?” she asked. “What will you do?”

  Taron’s shoulders were tense, and he kept his gaze straight ahead. “We don’t know yet. First, we’ll need to see how much damage your trip caused us. We were supposed to keep you on a tight leash.” He snorted softly.

  Adriana flushed; she deserved the censure, but that didn’t mean it was any easier to bear. “I’m really sorry,” she said. “I never would have gone if I’d known…”

  Taron sighed, his breath momentarily fogging the glass pane in front of him. “We should have told you sooner. All of you. And I, especially, never should have kept it a secret from you for so long. I should have trusted you.” He cast her a look over his shoulder. “Forgive me.”

  She swallowed, nodding, and put her hand on his shoulder. Keeping one palm on the ship’s controls, he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips for a kiss. Adriana’s heart melted, and for the first time since she’d started on this fateful trip, hope filled her. Maybe they could figure out how to help the queen and the mine workers from the abandoned villages. Maybe Taron cared for her as much as she cared for him.

  She permitted herself a happy sigh—but then she noticed that while they’d been traveling in the general direction of the city, they were now making for a cluster of low structures a mile from the city walls.

  Taron was taking her to the sky port.

  17

  Taron

  “What’s going on?”

  Taron closed his eyes for a moment at Adriana’s question. She tugged her hand free from his grip; he’d kept touching her because all he could think was: This might be the last time I hold her hand.

  Wordlessly, he brought the ship to a soft landing near the hangar—not close enough for the sentries to register a ship with its navigation system shut off but not too far to trek to the terminal.

  Then he turned to face the woman who’d brought him to his knees.

  “Taron, why aren’t we going back to the city?” Her dark eyebrows were drawn down, lips pursed.

  “I’m going back,” he said slowly.

  “But I’m not?” Her voice rose in pitch, echoing in the tiny cabin. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  He forced himself to nod even as his chest felt like it was caving open, his ribs clawed apart by a beastly pain. “You’re escaping this planet before the regent realizes you’ve seen what he’s doing at the mines.” Swallowing, he kept his gaze on her chin, too raw to look her in the eyes. “It’s the only way I can be sure you’ll be safe. A ship will take you to Nikku. It’s a short flight, and the planet is a respected merchant hub. You’ll be able to find transportation to Earth with the money I’ll give you.”

  His last savings, put to good use. She’d return home to her blue planet, to her family, where she would be warm and out of harm’s way. He regretted now that he’d never asked her about her parents, about her siblings—he didn’t even know if she had any. They’d always talked about his planet, his people, and there was so much he wanted to know.

  But it wasn’t meant to be. She would never be safe here. Not until the regent was dead—and by then, Taron would probably be dead as well, given how slim their chances of victory were.

  Her sob sent a lance of pain right through him. He caught her gaze, lifted his palm to her cheek, and wiped the tears off her soft skin.

  “Shh,” he murmured. “Don’t cry, little Earthling. I’m not worth crying over.”

  She smacked his hand away, her eyes suddenly blazing with fire. “Like hell,” she snapped. “That’s not true. Don’t you ever say anything like that again.”

  Taron blinked in surprise. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—to calm her, but she was still yelling at him.

  “I’m not going anywhere. If you think for a moment that I’ll leave my friends here to be murdered by some psychopath, you don’t know me at all.”

  In hindsight, he really should have anticipated this. She wasn’t the type of woman to accept an order of that magnitude without protest. “Adriana, I’m just looking out—”

  “I don’t care,” she interrupted, swiping her palms over her cheeks and sniffling angrily. “I’m not going home. I’m staying here.”

  He scoffed. “What, forever?”

  He’d meant it as a joke, as a reminder that this wasn’t her fight to begin with because she’d be returning to Earth in two short months.

  But Adriana sat back, crossed her arms over her chest—as much as she could with all the layers of clothes—and said, “Yes.”

  Hope was the worst; seductive and painful. Did she really mean it? Would she stay with him, here? He had nothing to offer her, nothing to give beyond his miserable protection, not until they deposed Gilmar as regent.

  “Provided we travel to Earth once in a while,” she added. “I want to spend Christmas on a beach somewhere.”

  Taron didn’t know what Christmas was or why she’d want to stay near the sea while it was happening, but this was hardly the most important issue now.

  “Adriana, you could get killed. If Steven didn’t succeed in returning the hover sled…” He shook his head. “I can’t risk it.”

  “But you would risk the lives of everyone else on the human delegation? Of your brothers?”

  There was no way he could answer that. His gut churned with the thought of what would happen if he returned without Adriana—the search for her would uncover not only the regent’s deception but also Taron’s massacre of the guards at the First Murrun Station. It might even cause the queen’s demise.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Adriana’s smug pout had him tilting forward and kissing her. It wasn’t a conscious thought but an imperative he was powerless to resist. She leaned into the kiss, touching her warm palm to his cheek before she broke the contact and rested her forehead against his.

  “I’m going to be okay. Now take me back to the city.”

  It didn’t feel right, putting her in danger, but short of tying her up and tossing her onto a departing spaceship like a sack, he was out of options. If he left her here, he had a strong feeling she would follow him back on foot, stubborn as she was. And possibly freeze in the process.

  “If I feel even a touch of danger, I’m getting you out of there, with or without your cooperation.” He put on his fiercest frown, one that had his crew members falling in line without another word uttered.

  But his human just smiled, her gaze going soft. “All right.”

  Damn it. He hadn’t expected her to capitulate that easily. He chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to think of a way to tell her what needed to be said.

  “I…I have nothing to offer you, Adriana. You shouldn’t…” He released her, gripping the back of his head with both hands. “You can’t make the decision if you don’t know all the facts. I have nothing. Unless the regent is removed, I have no money, no home to give you beyond our rooms at the palace.” The truth burned inside him, his shame rising like bile in his throat. “And even if we succeed… I’m just a captain of a spaceship. My brother has taken over the family mansion and fortune, like our parents wanted. I don’t have a real home here.”

  He couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes. Staring out the ice-crusted windshield, he clenched his fists in his lap to keep from fidgeting, from opening the door and escaping her frank assessment. She would find him lacking and return to her planet. Or worse, she would find another Rendian who fulfilled her needs better than him. At the thought, he ground his teeth. Would he meet her at the palace, see her holding someone else’s hand? Would he see her with his children—oh, fuck, children!

  He looked down at her stomach, which was obviously unchanged and hidden beneath her winter gear, and experienced the strangest sensation. Something clicked into place inside him, settling all the doubt, all the worry.

  She could be carrying his child.

/>   There was no proof their species were even compatible, no precedent to believe that such a thing was possible.

  But he didn’t care. Grabbing her by the waist, he hauled her into his lap, wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face in her soft hair.

  Adriana chuckled, shaking against him. “Want to tell me what happened there?”

  He couldn’t speak, so he shook his head in wonder and kissed her again. And when she melted, grasping his shoulders and shifting in his lap to straddle him, he knew they’d be all right.

  In the end, she broke the kiss and paused, holding his face in her hands. She was so close he could count the little brown freckles on her nose and cheeks. Her lips were slightly chapped, and her stare was very serious.

  “Listen to me, Taron ad Naals.” She spoke slowly, her voice even and calm. “I don’t care if you have nothing. I don’t care if we have to live on your spaceship. I don’t care if we have to live on this ship.”

  She grinned at that, and Taron couldn’t help but grin back.

  “I hope it won’t come to that.”

  “I’m trying to tell you that I’m all in,” she murmured.

  For a moment, he couldn’t speak. He still heard the words she’d uttered last night in the grip of passion, and while he knew she’d meant them then, he wasn’t sure if they were true in the light of day.

  “Come on,” she said before he could voice his thoughts. “I’m freezing. Take me back to the city.”

  They would have to talk, really talk about their future, but now was not the time. Taron deposited her back in her seat with a rueful sigh, making sure she was buckled in safely, then placed his palm on the control panel.

  And flew them back into danger.

  18

  Adriana