Rystani Warrior 04 - The Quest (8 page)

LEVAL WAS RARELY subtle, and this time was no different. Usually Angel didn’t crowd her copilot’s shift, leaving the decisions to him. With a nod, she handed command back to her able first officer, knowing he’d call her if anything else unusual came up.

Angel left the bridge and wasn’t a bit surprised when Kirek followed. Space on the
Raven
was at a premium. As husband and wife, Leval and Frie shared the largest cabin. Petroy’s quarters were tiny because he was such a loner; he’d insisted on his own private space when he’d joined her crew.

She had much to think about—and not just where to find quarters for her guest. Kirek was such an enigma. He displayed unusual abilities with such casual modesty that he appeared unassuming—yet she suspected he might be manipulating them all like a master puppeteer. Still, she couldn’t help wondering what else he could do—and she didn’t mean with his psi. Between his saving her ship and the special heat in his eyes that seemed to warm her straight to her core, he’d succeeded in imprinting his presence on her mind.

She couldn’t recall the last time a man had fascinated her like he did. That made her interested. Too bad he was Rystani—their no-divorce policy was positively uncivilized.

But Angel wasn’t accustomed to having good things dumped in her lap. She’d worked hard to scrape together the credits to enter the card game where she’d won the
Raven,
worked harder still to overhaul the ship’s systems to keep her running.

So when a perfect man like Kirek—who could have been anywhere in the universe—happened to turn up on her salvage, offering her a prize of all prizes to help him, her wariness increased. It was almost as if she’d been dealt four aces off the top of the deck.

So who’d stacked the cards? She knew enough about his powerful and wealthy family to know the
Raven
must be a slow, uncomfortable tub to him. No doubt, Kirek was accustomed to food materializers, sentient computers, and the best starship designs in the galaxy. Supposedly he needed her to help him enter Dakmar undercover, but with his connections, he could have made better arrangements.

She stopped and spun on her heel so suddenly, only his lightning reflexes allowed him to halt in time to prevent him from bumping into her. But she’d wanted to catch him off guard. “Why didn’t Tessa arrange for you to go undercover?”

“Due to the family connection, any arrangement she makes might be uncovered by Zin spies.” Kirek answered immediately, but not without a sheepish look.

“I’m not sure I follow. I thought the Zin couldn’t get past the Sentinels that guard our galaxy.”

“The Zin have coveted Federation space for a millennium. What is not well known is that the Zin once lived here. Before they left, they set traps. One of those was on the Jarn world. They changed the Jarn DNA and made them slaves. While the Jarn are now free, other races like the Kraj may work for them—willing or not.”

“That’s why you didn’t kill the Kraj—they might be unwilling slaves to the Zin?”

“Yes. If Tessa, Kahn, Dora, Zical, Xander, and Alara came along or helped me, we’d have a much higher chance of being spotted.”

“But the Kraj have found you. Why not call in help now?”

“Because it’s easier for a small ship like the
Raven
to disappear again in hyperspace after we leave Dakmar.”

“Okay. I get it.”

“If I asked, they would all help. But I don’t want to endanger families. My relatives all have children.” His voice softened as he spoke of them.

He came from a big happy family that looked out for one another. She suppressed a stab of jealousy by reminding herself that she was independent and self-sufficient because she’d learned to stand on her own from an early age.

“How do you think the Kraj ship found you?”

His eyes flashed, and she could see he’d already considered the problem. “Either someone in my last port or the ship that dropped me on the Vogan ship recognized me, or the Kraj intercepted one of my messages, or I was betrayed by the man who sold you the information about the salvage. For the duration of the mission, I don’t plan to make any communications with my home world. I’ll have to ask for the same commitment from your people.”

“Frie and Leval don’t have family except each another. Petroy is a loner.”

“That leaves you.”

“It’s not a problem.”

He slanted a shoulder against a wall, thrusting one hip slightly forward. His tone changed to a husky murmur, increasing the intimacy of his already suggestive tone. “We’ll have to depend on one another for conversation.”

Wow. For a warrior, the man knew how to flirt. While she might be suspicious of drawing four aces, she wasn’t about to toss in a winning hand. She’d made it clear to him she wasn’t marriage-minded and now saw no reason not to explore the possibility of knowing him better. She leaned very close to him and enjoyed watching his irises dilate and his nostrils flare. Using her psi to lift her body with null grav, she rose until her lips almost brushed his cheek.

He held perfectly still, watching her with a crooked and pleased grin.

She whispered into his ear. “Somehow, I don’t think I’ll have to worry about a lack of conversation.”

Before he had a chance to respond beyond a slight widening of his eyes, with a flick of her psi she dropped to her feet, spun, and started to walk away, making certain to sway her hips just a bit more than necessary—and was quite satisfied with his reaction.

She’d taken two steps when his hand closed over her wrist. With a predatory gleam in his eyes, he tugged her against his chest, and she barely restrained a pleased chuckle. Resisting didn’t cross her mind. In fact, she couldn’t have been more thrilled that he’d taken the initiative. There was something exciting about a man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to pursue it that got her blood pumping and her pulse racing.

And the Rystani
did
have a great chest. With his broad shoulders and powerful arms, he really possessed an incredible physique. She knew Rystani men were all built like warriors—but Kirek was the only Rystani she’d seen up close. As a woman who appreciated well-made engineering and masculine lines, she couldn’t help but savor the contours of his hard muscles beneath her palms. At her touch, he dropped his psi shield, and she could feel the thump of his heart and the heat that radiated from him, upping her own temperature.

If the simple act of touching his chest was causing her mouth to go dry and her pulse to jump into hyperdrive, she figured a kiss would shoot her straight out of the dust nebula. His hands closed about her waist, holding her gently, and she half expected him to lift her to him, but he didn’t. Tilting back her head, she caught his eye, and at the sparks in his, her breath caught. They’d gone from zero to light speed in less than seconds, and her thoughts swirled.

He’d been hinting that he wanted her almost from the moment they’d met.

She’d taken his hint and raised the stakes. Would he fold, call, or raise?

Locking his blue gaze on hers, he lowered his head until his lips stopped an inch from hers. Then he waited
…
waited for her to close the remaining distance.

Oh, yeah. He was tempting, seducing. Not taking her for granted.

Perfect.

She’d wanted to know if kissing him was as good as talking to him, as good as looking at him. Past experience told her his kiss might be nothing but a pair of deuces. But at the first touch of his lips, she knew he wasn’t bluffing.

His kiss was exactly what she liked.

Not too soft. Not too hard. He applied the right amount of pressure to take charge, yet gave her wiggle room. She used it to wrap her arms around his neck and part her lips. While her fingers explored his thick neck and silky hair, she ached to press her breasts against his heat and fire more of her senses, but his hands held her in place, allowing no more than their lips to touch.

She inhaled, and he smelled like fresh-mowed grass after a spring rain. He tasted like ginger—not too tart, not too sweet, but with enough bite to make her want
…
more.

Again she attempted to lean into him. But he didn’t budge, holding her still. Right where he wanted her.

His clever mouth kept her too busy to focus on the distance between their bodies. The man knew how to kiss. He knew how to take control. His lips commanded and then demanded more. She willingly gave, and her lips swelled under his attention. Her lungs strained for air, and she had no idea when she’d closed her eyes, allowing her to focus on the scalding rush of heat that boiled through her veins and elicited a whimper.

If Kirek’s kiss had been a tide, he would have rushed in and swept her away. If his kiss had been a drink, it would have been the rarest champagne, bubbly and effervescent and lingering. If his kiss had been a fire, it would have been smoke and flames that sparked and flared into an inferno that burned away to leave white hot embers.

And if they’d been playing poker, he’d just won the entire pot.

Stunned by her reaction, shocked by the pleasure he gave, she had no idea how much time had passed. She only knew that the connection between them ran like molten lava, burning hot, dangerously thrilling, totally awesome.

Explosive.

She had no doubts that together they would ignite. Yet despite the rushing in her ears, despite the hammering of her heart, she knew that while lust would be enough for her, it wouldn’t be enough for him. A man like Kirek wouldn’t settle for less than long-term potential.

She spoke bluntly. “I’m not looking for more than a fling.”

“I am.”

His words reminded her that Kirek was all about home and hearth and babies. Then she opened her eyes and looked at him
…
and swallowed back the tightness in her throat at his fierce hunger.

Before, he’d been imposing, but now he dominated the space around him. With his passion firing on all cylinders, he had a reckless heat in his eyes, a swarthy swagger in
the curl of his lips that reminded her of a man who could deliver more pleasure than she’d ever dreamed. From the cocky tilt of his hip to the flex of his powerful shoulders, he brimmed with a magnificent command of sexuality.

His gaze flared with wild need. A muscle in his neck rippled. Yet he held perfectly still—all that power perfectly contained—just waiting for her to unleash.

He would be delicious. She knew it. He knew it—she could tell by the utter confidence in his eyes.

So it took every measure of her control not to forge ahead. After all, if they became lovers and it didn’t work out, they still had a mission to finish, and on a small ship, there was no room for a lovers’ quarrel. “We aren’t right for each other.”

“If you say so.”

“We shouldn’t
…
”

He grinned. “We won’t.” And then as if she’d said nothing at all, he kissed her forehead, her nose, and once again found her lips.

She practically melted. Her bones seemed to go liquid. She had difficulty breathing, standing, reasoning.

“I can’t think when you do that.”

“Thinking isn’t required.”

“But—” It took all her self-control to yank her lips away from him and what she craved. “I said
no.
”

“But you meant
yes.
”
He raised one hand and slowly traced a finger down her cheek, her jaw, her neck. She yearned for him to go lower, to explore her collarbone, her breasts, and the moisture between her thighs.

She tried to put resentment and attitude into her tone. “Don’t tell me what I mean.”

“Someone needs to.” Amusement lit his dark blue eyes. As if reading her body’s demands, his hands slid up from her waist to gently cup her breasts. “Are you denying that you like this?”

He looked her straight in the eyes. His thumbs flicked over her nipples, his touch rough and perfect. Electric heat shocked her, and she moaned. She had the urge to bite him, claw him, throw herself at him, take him right there in the corridor up against the bulkhead.

Her tone came out sassy and bold. “I don’t do relationships.”

“Okay.”

“You don’t want me.”

He flicked her nipples again. “You’re exactly what I want. Look how well you fill my hands.”

Ah, his hands felt like heaven. It had been much too long since anyone had made her feel so good. Kirek seemed to know what her body was craving. She craved him. His touch. His kisses. His flesh against hers.

Yet, despite her hunger, despite how much she savored his skillful teasing, she resisted. “Are you sure you won’t want more than I can give?”

He chuckled. “That’s not your concern. Rystani warriors take what we want.”

Oh God. Moisture trickled between her thighs. She wanted him to take.

And take.

And take.

Yet
…
that was lust talking. They’d still have to work together. She should keep the relationship simple and become true friends. “Just so you know I’m not cut out for long term—”

“Long term didn’t work for you before because you chose the wrong men for the wrong reasons.”

Damn him for turning her words against her, though his logic was faulty. It didn’t matter who the man was, she simply didn’t do long-term relationships. Period. She liked her freedom too much to compromise. She craved her independence as much as she craved air in her lungs.