Operation Hydra (12 page)

“We have
nothing
with us on this ship?”

“We will be gone about eleven Earth hours. Five there, five back and however long it takes me in Meditek.”

“Trey, the control module is in my bag. We’ll have no way of knowing if this trip accomplished anything —”

“Until we return to the resort,” he cut in. “If Hydran has someone watching the shuttle, which I suspect he does. It’s imperative everything appear as if we’re in that room enjoying each other to the fullest.”

Rummaging through compartments, she located a comb, and tugged it through his rapidly drying hair. “I didn’t mean to make you angry.” Her gaze fixed stubbornly on her task.

“You make me many things. Angry is just one of them.” Her gaze lifted to the mirror and he smiled.

“I’m not sure why what I said upset you.”

He captured her hands and pulled her close, staring deeply into her eyes. “It’s a long involved story. Let’s focus on one thing at a time. We’ll deal with Hydran, but once his operation is shut down, I’ll expect your full cooperation.”

Confusion darkened her eyes and creased her brow. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

“Promise?” he challenged with another smile.

“Promise.”

They arrived at Meditek twenty minutes before the facility opened to the public. Krysta glanced at Trey’s casually lounging figure as she paced across the spacious passenger cabin. The black hair dye made him look positively sinister, yet even more compelling. Or perhaps it was just the memory of his well-defined chest and rippling abdomen that had her feeling jittery.

“What did you tell the crew? Why do they think we’ve come here and why am I staying on the ship?”

He shrugged. “I scowled at them and they didn’t ask. You, my precious, are not feeling well and are not to be disturbed for any reason.”

Walking back to the viewport, she looked out across the wide shuttle lot at the building in the distance. “It looked bigger on the vidfiles.”

“Disappointed?” Amusement lightened Trey’s tone.

“No.
Surprised.
Meditek leads the world in simulation technology; I expected something more grandiose.”

“Meditek is the parent company for a multitude of other corporations. They have research and development centers scattered all over the globe, but this plant is the only one still referred to as Meditek.”

This had to be it. If they started visiting Meditek affiliates all over the planet, someone was bound to get suspicious. “The Companion said Meditek specifically.”

He walked up behind her and stroked her hair. She tried not to lean into the caress, but the response was automatic. When had his touch become so familiar?
So right?

“It’s going to be okay.” He sifted the thick strands through his fingers.

She turned, leaning against the wall beside the viewport. He towered over her, but his size no longer intimidated her. Even with his hair tinted black to match his fierce eyes, this was Trey. The closest thing to a champion she had ever known.

“I wish I were going with you,” she said softly. “What if they ask you something you can’t answer? What if —”

Laying his fingers gently across her lips, he stemmed
her what
ifs. “Do you really think so little of me?”

I don’t know what to think. I don’t know who you are.
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Now was not the time to voice her frustrations.

His index finger drew a line down her chin and along her throat until it came to the edge of her bodice. She caught his wrist. “Let’s review the plan.”

He grinned. “My plan is to conclude my business at Meditek as quickly as possible, because once we’re safely on our way back to the
resort,
I’m going to make love to you.”

Her breath stalled in her lungs and she couldn’t drag her gaze from his. “And I don’t have anything to say about this?”

“You can say anything you like. I was just explaining my plan.”

She blessed the wall behind her, seriously doubting her legs would have supported her. When he turned, she pressed her hand over her chest, amazed at the heat of her skin. Was her entire body flushed?

“As far as Meditek goes, I don’t really have a plan. We don’t know if I-219 is a person, place or thing. I’m going to walk up to the information desk and ask for directions to I-219. Hopefully, the response of the receptionist will give me some clue what I’m looking for.”

“Wait.” He spun and she collided with him. “You’re an alien.” His hands cupped her bottom. She swatted them away.

“And?”

“No,
that’s
the plan. When you approach the information desk thicken your accent, make it sound like you can barely speak Earthish.”

He nodded thoughtfully, and his hands moved to her hips. “It won’t seem as suspicious if I’m struggling with a language barrier.”

“Yes. Oh, I wish I could just go with you.”

“We can’t risk it. But you can play voyeur.”

Pushing against his chest, she raised her gaze to his face.
“Voyeur?”

He grinned, his even teeth starkly white against his bronze-toned skin. “I’ll show you.” He retrieved a small device from the pocket of his jacket and opened it, revealing a small vidscreen. “I’ll send my com signal here and you can monitor everything that happens. I’ll be able to hear you as well, but obviously it won’t always be possible to respond.”

“Obviously.”

“Well, let the games begin.”

Krysta watched his retreating form, fascinated by the confidence in his stride. His movements stopped just short of swaggering. She smiled. No, there was a bit of a swagger in there, too.

* * * * *

Bless the gods of the day moon, the receptionist was female. Trey slipped off his jacket, summoned his most charming smile and approached the information station.

The dark-haired woman’s slender fingers flew across the smooth surface of her workstation, her brown gaze never leaving the vidscreen inset in the hutch style desk, preventing visitors from seeing the display. Trey cleared his throat and she raised one elaborately painted, long-nailed finger, silently staving him off. Her fingers paused and she raised her gaze.

“How may I…”

Trey folded his arms onto of the hutch, leaning slightly toward her.

“You poser.”
Krysta’s voice whispered across the comlink and directly into his ear, but he focused on the receptionist.

“How may I help you, sir?” The receptionist completed, after licking her lips.

“You are a pleasing to know.” Deepening his voice to a throaty growl, he pronounced each word with a thick Ontarian cadence. He reached across the desk and gently drew the bewildered receptionist to her feet. Pulling her hand to his mouth, he kissed the inside of her wrist, his gaze never leaving hers. “Lord Lay Tonn.”

Her dark eyes rounded, her bright red lips formed an O. “What can I do for you, Lord Lay Tonn?”

“I am the need to knowing I-219.”

She flashed an eloquent smile. “The Companion Emporium is up on three. It has its own entrance, but you can get there from here.” Happily skirting the desk, she wrapped her arm around Trey’s bicep and led him to the nearest info screen. “Companion Emporium,” she said, and a blue line illuminated in the wall. “Just follow the line.”

“My thanks are many.” He kissed her knuckles in farewell. Striding down a hallway, he rounded a corner, following the blue line.

“That — trollop couldn’t wait to get her hands on you,” Krysta grumbled. “The Emporium operator better be male.”

Trey glanced around to make sure he was alone before he spoke. “You know what this Emporium is?”

“Yeah, it’s basically a shopping center,” Krysta explained as he walked. “People program elaborate simulations and rent them to other people. Some are games, with rules and objectives. Some are fantasy situations. There are clubs with themes, like different eras in time, reenacting famous battles, living history.”

“You think I-219 is one of these programs?”

“Go up those stairs, Lord Lay Tonn, and we’ll find out.”

The slender young man behind the counter in the Companion Emporium took one look at Trey and turned petulant. His shoulders squared, his green eyes narrowed, and his head cocked at an angle that would have made Trey redress any of his crewmembers. Trey waited for the customary greeting, but the youth just watched him with hostile green eyes.

“This should be fun.” Krysta’s voice chimed in his ear.

Her amusement doubled Trey’s determination. Turning to the brat, he realized the situation called for a different strategy.

“Good morning, kind sir.” He made his words easier to understand, but retained an Ontarian inflection. “It is to your fine establishment that I have been referred by a friend.”

“Gotcha,” the clerk said.
“Newbie.
Had you pegged as a first-timer when you walked through the door.”

Trey inclined his head to hide his smirk. “I place myself in your competent hands. I am to request I-219.”

“Well, let me see what I can find.” He ambled to his terminal and worked for a moment. “That’s an instructional program. Do you want me to trigger the simulation while you’re here?”

“I will purchase only I-219 today.”

“This is weird,” he muttered.
“Doesn’t seem to be a corresponding sim anyway.
Must give several suggestions at the end of the lesson.
Do you have a control module?
Can’t run this without one.
We’ve got them new and used.”

“I have a control module.”

“Then scan your hand and give me the SAT ID of your control mod.”

Trey withdrew his voucher card and handed it to the clerk.

“Oh, you’re not coded.”

He sounded so condescending Trey imagined dragging the little monster across the counter and teaching him some manners. “I travel far beyond your… world. My means of commerce must be intergalactic.”

The clerk glared and went beck to his station. “Your SAT ID?”

“Pretend to look at something written on your hand.” Krysta coached. “Now tell him Cassiopeia Nine-SW. User: #124.”

Tal carefully repeated the sequence.

“You should have waited to mouth off until after he sent the file,” Krysta whispered.

Waiting until the clerk was occupied with the
transmission,
Tal whispered in return, “I’ll wait until after he sends the file to kick his ass.”

“Temper, temper.”

* * * * *

Krysta paced the passenger cabin, wondering if the clerk’s transmission had been worth the trip. “I hate this. It could be nothing or it could be something incredibly important.”

“And you won’t know for another four hours and forty-five minutes. How will you survive?”

Shooting him a playful glower, she tossed her long blonde hair. “Thank you for doing this. Patience has never been my strongest virtue.”

“Come here.”

He stood near the viewport, a silent reminder of his ignoble intentions. “Why?”

“Because I want to talk about your virtue.”

She laughed, her toes curling into the thick carpeting. “Somehow, I don’t think talking is what you have in mind.”

“If I come over there it will be a much shorter conversation.”

Glancing at the bed directly behind her, she realized his meaning. “I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

“Come here and I’ll make sure you’re ready.”

She took two tentative steps toward him, more to get away from the bed than to reach him. “You look like a brigand with your hair like that. It makes me wonder… if I want you to stop, will you?”

With one angry jerk he unbound his hair and shook it free, but the dye still accented his solid obsidian eyes. “Krysta, come here.” His tone cajoled, compelled her toward him.

He stayed against the wall, but pulled her near, not stopping until her skirts brushed his legs.

“You know how badly I want you. But I won’t touch you unless you want this too. I’ve never forced a woman. I can’t imagine anyone finding pleasure in such a way.”

She only feared the unknown and she’d wanted Trey since she first saw him. Why was she fighting her own desire? Without a word, she began unbuttoning his shirt, tugging it from his trousers as she went. He was so beautifully made, she was eager to touch him, to explore his muscular torso.

He allowed her to strip him to the waist before he framed her face with his hands and gently kissed her. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

“I don’t know if I can wait,” she whispered.

Chuckling softly, he pulled her into his arms. The first, brief kiss didn’t prepare her for the deep, sweeping intimacy of the second. His lips melded with hers, moving over and against them, urging them apart.

She accepted the slow penetration of his tongue, even encouraged him, but soon he claimed her, possessed her. Overwhelmed, she pushed against his chest, but he didn’t budge. She tried to turn her head and his fingers tightened in her hair. He pulled her head back. His mouth moved to the arch of her throat.

“Trey,” she murmured, half protest, half plea.

Ruthlessly tugging the laces, his hand slipped inside her loosened gown, cupping her breast, squeezing her firmly. Krysta moaned.

“All I’ve been able to think about is the fact that you’re naked beneath this damn dress.”

His breath fanned her skin, hot and moist.
Pressing against him, the ache within her intensified.
She felt his fingers working frantically, pulling her skirt up along her legs. Then, his hand touched her bare skin, stroking her from knee to hip in one unbroken motion. Rocking restlessly against him, everything she did expanded the tension, spread the heat.

“Your skin is amazing.” He groaned, his hand wandering freely under her skirts. He touched her legs and hips and thoroughly explored her rounded bottom.

She clutched his shoulders, trembling, needing to sit, or better yet, lay down. His mouth moved against the sensitive skin along her throat and his hand slipped between their bodies, covering her feminine curls. Jerking and stiffening, she tried not to fear this new intimacy.