Roark (Women Of Earth Book 1) (17 page)

Roark rolled her onto his chest and stroked away a strand of hair that had fallen in her face. “So I have found myself a fanciful woman who believes in pretty folktales.”

“That’s just it. I’m not fanciful. I’m the practical one, remember? I never believed, until you.” She stretched upwards to meet his lips.

“I am no Prince Charming, Miramiku,” he murmured against her lips.

His admission made her smile. “Good. I always had a problem with him, too. If he’d had any balls, he’d never have let her run away at midnight. He would have tracked her down the minute he found her gone.”

“And punished her severely for making him lose his mind in worry and fear.”

“I’m sorry for that. I never meant...”

Before she could finish, he’d pulled her up over him, so they were face to face. With his hand at the back of her head, he brought their lips together. Through his kiss, she felt some of his desperation at finding the house empty when he returned to her. Had he needed her comfort, too?

“I needed you,” he breathed in concert with her thought.

Their covering fell away as his rough hand skimmed over her tender skin from her shoulder, along her back, and over the mound of her rear to the back of her thigh, where his fingers drew sensuous and tickling circles. Her muscles clenched and relaxed as her hips moved with the age old rhythm of desire.

Her back arched and her mouth opened in a surprised O when the circling fingers left her and returned in an open handed smack that stung both cheeks of her ass.

The burn left from the smack along with the warmth of the hand that soothed and caressed it combined to send a curl of another kind of heat straight to her core. Her “Hey!” turned into a purring moan.

Roark slid his finger between her tingling cheeks and followed the line to where it ended between her legs. The finger swirled in the pooling moisture it found.

“That was punishment for making me lose my mind. You weren’t supposed to like it,” he chuckled.

“I’ll try to remember that next time,” she murmured as he took her mouth in another kiss.

The kiss burned, too. Hot and wet, his mouth conquered hers, his tongue demanding in its penetration. It plundered the depths of her mouth and stole her breath. When he pulled away it was with her bottom lip between his teeth. He released the lip and she sucked it back into her mouth, curling it over her bottom teeth and running her tongue over it.

Pressure from the hand below forced her to move upward along his body and spread her legs further until her knees fell to either side of his broad chest.

“Raise your hips and give me your breast,” he commanded and Mira obeyed.

She gripped the headboard with both hands for leverage and raised her breast to his mouth. Though she was on top, the position left her open and vulnerable.

Roark’s tongue circled her nipple and then he sucked it in, so strongly she felt the tug of it ignite the fire already smoldering below. He did it again and again, toying with her body and making pleasurable sounds against her skin. His attention then turned to her other breast. He attacked the underside with his lips and teeth in tiny, nibbling love bites that sent shivers coursing through her body. When Roark gripped her tightly pebbled nipple between his teeth, she gasped.

The sensations at her breasts combined with the pounding of his fingers inside her. Roark’s thumb rolled over her clit and the fire within her erupted.

His hands were there to support her when her arms no longer could. She hung there, suspended above him, quaking with a fire that coursed through her.

When her orgasm subsided, Roark removed her hands from the headboard, and guided her hips back until she was positioned over his jutting erection.

“Ride me, miku Mirasha. Take me to the place where I have taken you.”

Using her hand as a guide, she brought him into her. With undulating hips, she moved the moistened tip against her clit, toying with herself in the way Roark’s fingers had toyed with her only minutes before. Beyond her closed eyes, she knew he was watching and his soft groan told her he enjoyed the display.

With her ardor once more on the rise, she settled him in place and slowly took his length into her body. After a moment to savor the feeling of completeness brought to her by their joining, Mira began to move.

Slowly at first, she let her body rise and fall. As the movement of his hips became more insistent, so did hers. Hands and fingers locked together, his elbows braced on the bed, she used his strength to support her body as she drew him in and released him. Faster and faster, harder and harder, she poured her pleasure onto him.

His hands tightened their grip on hers. His body tensed. He cursed in the guttural tongue of the Godan and then exploded within her. She clenched around him, milking him of his power and seed, and then she was flying, too. She soared with the primal beauty of the man locked inside her. This was where she belonged.

With their mutual release, Roark lowered his forearms until she lay on his chest. Mira was exhausted, satisfied, and very much in love with the golden Viking who now held her in his arms.

Chapter 19

Roark assumed Mira was sound asleep, but with the first knock at the door, she sat up, eyes wide open.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. Some misbegotten son of a whore has a death wish, that’s all.” He was already out of bed and pulling on his clothes. “I’ll grant that wish and return. You need to go back to sleep.”

He’d left strict orders that he was not to be disturbed unless it was an emergency. An emergency would be called in over his comlink and not through someone banging on his door. The banging continued and his annoyance grew.

“What?” he snapped as he opened the door.

Ahnyis stood on the other side with a bundle of folders in her arms. Mason stood behind her.

“Oh good, you’re here. We need to talk,” she said, ducking past him and completely ignoring the angry scowl on his face.

Mason noticed it, though. “Ahnyis, sweetie, maybe we should come back later. I think this might be a bad time,” he added with a significant glance at the pile of Mira’s discarded clothing on the floor.

Ahnyis grinned as Roark scooped the pile into his arms.

“Oh good,” the little Healer said again, “Mira’s here. That takes care of item one on my list.” She actually ticked it off the loose page that sat atop the folders. “I was afraid you’d locked her away somewhere. I know how unreasonable you can be when you’re angry.” She glanced worriedly at his dragon earing.

“Ahnyis, I have had less than two hours sleep. Can’t this wait?”

“Of course it can’t wait. Would I be here if it could? And I don’t want to hear about your lack of sleep.” She raised her nose and sniffed loudly. “You apparently chose a different form of relaxation.”

Mason looked appalled. “You can smell that?”

“Yes, and you’d be wise to remember it.”

“Or you’ll deal with me.” For the first time since the couple arrived, Roark smiled. If he couldn’t wring Ahnyis’s neck, Mason’s would do.

“Stop it. You’re worse than Vochem and you know better.” She waved her hand, shooing Roark in the direction of the bedroom. “Take those to Mira and tell her to get dressed. She needs to hear this, too. I’ll make us some cavik.”

“Mira prefers coffee. The machine is there.”

Mason leaned to the side to look past Roark. “You’ve been holding out on me,” he said indignantly.

Once again wearing a bed sheet like a toga, Mira entered the room. She didn’t look or sound nearly as friendly as Roark expected her to be.

“Serves you right. You told me I couldn’t trust you. People I don’t trust don’t get cookies. Or coffee.”

Mason spread his hands and looked to the ceiling. “This is what I get for trying to play the hero.” He shrugged. “I was trying to save you if things turned shitty. I thought if anyone should test the waters, it should be me. I had nothing to lose.”

“Nothing?” Anyis sniffed. “Hmph, I’m glad you think so much of me.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

While the two bickered, Roark took the opportunity to turn Mira around. He gave her a gentle shove toward the bedroom door.

“Puts some clothes on. You’re indecent.”

The woman laughed at him. “Not easy to do when I don’t have any and I’m not indecent. This,” she plucked at the sheet, “covers more than my dress did.”

“The dress was for me.”

“Actually, it was...”

“For me.” Roark handed her the clothing and shut the door.

He’d barely turned around before the door was opened and she was coming back through it, tugging her sweatshirt into place. Roark glanced behind him to make sure their two visitors were not in position to see the heavy cloth slide over Mira’s unbound breasts.

Ahnyis, safely in the kitchen with Mason at her side, wasted no time.

“David is doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances,” she told Mira. “The wound was deep, but Mason assures me nothing vital was damaged. We left him about two hours ago when Harm stopped by for a visit.”

She nodded at Mira’s thanks and held up a file. “It was Dr. Mason’s idea to keep my research out of the computer system. You never know who might be tapping into it.” She handed the first file to Roark.

“Vochem started it,” she told them. “As you already know, after meeting Mira he began to suspect that rations were being diverted. We now know that wasn’t the cause of her condition, but his suspicions were correct. The amount requisitioned from the quartermaster doesn’t equal the amount being distributed.”

Roark took the first folder from her and began reading through the contents. He frowned.

The missing supplies were more than likely being sold on the black market. It wasn’t the first time someone had tried selling military goods for their own personal gain. It was also something Roark wouldn’t tolerate under his command.

“There are shortages everywhere, Roark. Since Vochem’s priorities are centered on the medical care of the troops, he asked me to gather the data on rationing. I’ve been going crazy trying to locate equipment and supplies for the local clinic, so I asked Mason to do it.”

“Since my only priority lately has been pushing a broom,” Mason added sourly.

“And teaching yourself to read Godan.” Ahnyis sounded like a mother proud of her child’s school performance. “So he’s the one who found the discrepancies in the rationing. I found others while I was trying to locate basic supplies for the clinic that were marked as surplus. Vochem’s found even more missing. You know those unopened crates of hospital equipment that are stored in the warehouse? Some of them are empty. He’s missing two Replicators and a couple of Knitters,” she said, “and some pretty high-tech neural generators.”

“You can find food on the street, especially the protein powders and the dried meat that can be reconstituted,” Mira chimed in. “I always thought people traded what they were given for other things they need, but maybe I was wrong. Basic home medical stuff is out there, too; bandages, antiseptics, pain killers, that kind of thing, but who would you sell those machines to? Who’d know how to use them?”

“Exactly what I said,” Mason agreed.

This time, it was Mira who answered the knocking at the door. Vochem walked through followed by Harm.

“Theories?” Roark asked.

“Several,” was Vochem’s greeting. “How far have you gotten?” he asked his sister.

Ahnyis looked at her list. “Mira, David, rations.”

“There are discrepancies in fuel consumption, too,” Harm added. “You’ve heard the fighter pilots’ complaints about flight time. I have reports that troop morale has risen now that enough med-units show up when they’re needed, and troop carriers aren’t dangerously overloaded. There’s more, but you get the gist. Seems previous complaints were ignored. Logs show our air time has tripled, but our fuel consumption hasn’t. Vehicle maintenance times should have increased, too. It hasn’t.”

Ahnyis shuffled through her folders and drew one out. “You’re out of order,” she huffed as she slapped the folder in front of Roark. “What’s the point of having an agenda if we’re not going to follow it?”

“She gets cranky when she doesn’t get enough sleep,” Mason explained and then hurriedly added, “At least that’s what she told me,” when he saw the other men’s eyes narrow.

“I’m organized, not cranky,” she snapped at Mason. “And I never told you that because I don’t get cranky.” She wadded up the paper on which she’d written her agenda. “Fine, don’t follow it, but the next time you call a meeting, don’t ask me to play secretary.” She waggled her finger at Harm. “Go ahead, finish what you started,” she ordered, “You need to explain it for those of us who have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Harm choked out. He did it without cracking a smile, but his tongue rolled against his cheek and he had to swallow twice before he continued. “It means fuel and maintenance are being used for unrecorded flights. There’s no way to tell if those flights are off-world or on without requesting individual vehicle maintenance records. I held off on that...” Harm’s explanation went on.

Roark’s head was reeling with the enormity of the deceptions occurring in Sector Three.

“You’re also missing four bio-engineers and close to a hundred dead soldiers.”

“What?” Roark couldn’t have heard Vochem’s words correctly.

“I don’t care about flight time or rations or engineers or maintenance,” Mira complained loudly and sounded on the verge of anger or tears, Roark wasn’t sure which. “I’m sorry about those soldiers, but they’re dead, and unless you’re going to tell me those missing children are dead, too, they should come first. They’re more important than any of this.”

“What?” Roark said again. He held up his hand to Mira, insisting on silence. “Vochem, repeat what you just said.”

“Close to a hundred is what I have so far,” Vochem repeated. “The casualty rate has been high in this sector and I wanted data to verify my contentions with morbidity statistics. Equipment and personnel needs are calculated on troop numbers and the severity of the conflict. The warehoused equipment should have been in use. Patient’s died while awaiting their turn. Surgeons were overwhelmed with procedures that should have been taken care of elsewhere.”

The Head Healer lifted the mug Ahnyis had handed him when he first sat down. “Is there anything stronger than cavik?” he asked her.

“How would I know? I don’t live here. If I did, we wouldn’t be standing around the counter. I’d have more than two chairs.” Ahnyis glared at Mira as if was her fault.

“Hey, I don’t live here either,” Mira said as she went to cabinet that held the glasses. After placing six on the counter, she opened another. It was filled with bottles of different shapes and sizes. “You’ll have to tell me which one you want. I have no idea what any of this is only that your alcohol and ours smell pretty much the same.”

“For someone who doesn’t live here, you sure know your way around,” Mason quipped.

“The First Commander left me alone. After the bed was made I had nothing to do except snoop. The man has a jar of squiggly things in the refrigerator that I’m not touching, and a cabinet full of liquor. That’s the highlight of our tour, ladies and gentlemen, unless you want to know what he keeps in his underwear drawer.”

“Mira,” Roark warned.

“Roark,” she mimicked. She made her face as stony as his and said stubbornly, “I want to know about the children.”

Vochem poured himself a drink from a blue stoneware bottle he pulled from the cupboard. He drank it down before offering to pour for the others. He nodded at Mira.

“Maybe we should cover that first.”

“No.” Roark’s answer was firm and decisive. His eyes locked on Mira’s. “The children are important on a number of levels. I’m aware of that. Other things are important, as well, more important, perhaps. I’ve made my decision and my decision stands.”

“First,” Harm’s voice held a warning, too, and since he used Roark’s title and not the name, everyone looked up. His glance between the two women was significant. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving the boy alone for too long. Why don’t I take Mira over to the clinic to check in on her brother? It wouldn’t hurt if Ahnyis’s came, too. That wound was deep, and it’s still oozing.”

Mira answered before Roark could take a breath. “Fine. At least I’d get to see that one of my kids is safe.”

“All your children are safe, Mira,” Roark said tiredly. “And I promise you we’ll find the others.”

Mira marched over to where she’d left her shoes. Shoving her feet into them, she turned on Roark.

“No, all my children are not safe, First Commander, not when Godan soldiers are still hunting them in the street.” She pointed to the door. “And those other kids out there? They’re mine, too. Their only difference is that Wynne didn’t find them in time.”

“Mira,” he said again. “I’m asking that you trust me in this.”

She stared at him for a moment and then bobbed her head. “It isn’t a matter of trust. It’s a matter of priorities and in this case, yours are different than mine. Since I have no say in the matter, I’ll have to trust that you know what you’re doing. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”