Save for Shardae (3 page)

He winced behind her, but didn’t say anything. She tossed orders to him without so much as a glance. Was she still mad about his hair?

“You, uh, won’t escort me, ma’am?” he asked before he’d even thought about how it sounded. He stood rigidly at attention as she rounded on him.

“Pilot Reyes, this ship isn’t your playground. I don’t give a damn that your father is a captain,” she said, hands firmly on her hips. “Got it? So halt the bullshit Romeo routine and get a haircut.”

So she was still mad! And he didn’t think it was about his hair. He crossed his arms over his wide chest. She exploded fast -- too fast. They’d just met so either she believed the bullshit about him or something else had her all riled up. “Permission to speak freely?”

“Granted,” she answered reluctantly.

“You must have heard things about me, ma’am.” Zander watched his new sergeant’s face for a reaction. “But you can’t believe everything. There are two sides to each tale. I know you’re aware of that as chief of security. I’m not trying to sleep with you. I apologize. I wasn’t trying to show you up in front of Ashe.”

“Commander,” the sergeant growled.

“Uh?” He frowned.

“Commander Ashe,” she said with great restraint.

“Oh, yeah, Commander Ashe.”

She smirked at him, shaking her head. “That’s the best you got? The rumors about you are shitty. I heard you were a real charmer. A lady killer.”

Zander caught himself before he rose to the bait. He nearly let it slip how when she licked her lips his cock twitched. Or when she spoke, the hairs on the nape of his neck rustled in arousal. But he didn’t. “As I said, ma’am, don’t believe everything you hear.”

She nodded. “A.I.: housing, Level B.”

“I apologize for the comment, ma’am.”

“Uh huh.” She proceeded to work. He watched her lean, dark fingers skip across the face of the pad. She relaxed into a casual stance, her work truly absorbing her attention.

He’d never been ignored by a woman like this. Zander didn’t quite know what to make of it. She smelled like crushed jasmines and lilacs. A strange aroma on a spacecraft. It stirred something deep inside him. Did she know she had this effect on men? On him?

The robotic A.I. announced, “Level B, housing.”

Sergeant Simmons rolled out of the turbo lift, parting three other ebony-clad soldiers without so much as a glance. He kept in place right behind her beautiful butt. It acted like a beacon. No way could he get lost.

Chapter 4

The Explorer

Shardae didn’t know why she’d escorted Zander to his quarters. He’d been on more than a dozen spacecrafts and spaceships. So, it wasn’t farfetched to expect that he’d be able to find his way. Why did she end up outside his single silver-toned door?

“B-1083,” she forced out in a bored tone. Zander’s smirk caused the hair to bristle on the back of her neck. The vivid verdant of his eyes caused her heart to buzz like an electric current in water. No electronic image she could find last night compared even remotely to the physical, breathing, hot-as-the-fucking-sun Zander Reyes in the flesh. “One bedroom, standard IGO issue, shower, electronic cube, and closet.”

Zander pressed his hand onto the release and waited while it traced his fingerprints.

“Identify resident,” the A.I. ordered. “Voiceprint initialing.”

“Zander Reyes, IGO number ZAR01280087.”

“Enter, resident, Zander Reyes,” the A.I. nearly cooed.

Shardae shook her head. Did every woman fall for him? Not that the A.I. was female, but someone had given it a real feminine trait. Her imagination spiraled out of control. She had to get her wits about her.

He stepped so close to her to enter his quarters that his nose almost brushed hers. He laughed -- short and rough, like he’d stopped it from growing into a full roar.

She flinched and immediately hated it. He wouldn’t ravish her, so why had she reacted that way? Heart thumping like a drum, she shot him a glare she hoped pierced right through his swollen arrogance.

“Lights,” Zander said.

Bright lights switched on, highlighting him. He walked about the room, inspecting it. Behind his eyes a locked loneliness flashed, but in a blink, a roll of confidence made her doubt she’d even seen it. He bore some resemblance to his father, but not much.

His gaze scrutinized her, but his expression remained blank, stoic. “Thank you, Sergeant.” Kindness softened his face.

The change in his demeanor took her aback.

“Much bigger than the one on
The Challenger
,” he said with a surprisingly shy grin. “Stylish, better sim console…”

Shardae frowned, but agreed. “Yes, I, I’m glad you like it.”

“Well, when you get bounced around as much as I do…” Zander started then trailed off. A veil fell over his features, closing off the brief glimpse into his inner thoughts.

How much of his behavior came from early conditioning at the hands of Captain Reyes? With a father like him, Zander probably learned to cloak his feelings quick. Pity. She liked the real Zander.

She squashed those warm, gooey thoughts.

“You start piloting first thing tomorrow.” She liked the view of him, but she knew that once he put on his ebony uni, it would make him irresistible -- to every female unattached and a few attached onboard. Already the crew buzzed about him. “For today, join Private Yazzie. You’ll find him in laundry until thirteen hundred. Then you head up to watch Pilot Bordeaux until shift is over.”

“Laundry?” Zander asked. “Uh, yes, ma’am.”

She walked out, leaving him alone. With teeth gritted and panties damp, she stalked swiftly down the corridor. Zander acted like doing laundry was beneath him. Yazzie didn’t like it either, but all except key personnel took a turn in the laundry quarters. The process only required monitoring. Boring? Yes! But she needed him someplace safe while she dealt with the prison transfer.

* * *

At 1030, Shardae faced her twenty-person security team. All male except for two, they’d been chosen for their combat, observation and swift decision-making skills. Hopefully those skills wouldn’t be put to the test on this next mission.

They stood in front of the bank of cells, ten on either side of the holding cells. She kept her face blank. “Barlow, Coppola, and Aoki,” she read from her computerized pad, “you’re to stand ready at checkpoints P1, P3, and P5. You’ll relieve
The Inquiry
personnel at each station, one at a time.”

She slid her finger up the screen; the digital page scrolled in response to her touch. A flash of Zander in ecstasy skipped across her mind. Would his cock be as sensitive to her touch?

She blew out her lusty longings and put her attention back on the job. “Positioned here, I want Miller, McAffrey, Gray, and Yow to stand at each threshold interval. Stein and Berg, you’re on surveillance. Yazzie will join the rest of you on evening shift. Go get some sleep because you’re on duty at eight hour rotations, beginning tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am,” roared out in a chorus of affirmation.

“Dismissed,” she said, worry rumbling in her belly.

They scattered like leaves on the wind, each running to their post to fulfill their orders. She grinned at their enthusiasm.

“Sergeant,” gasped Private Yu, her cheeks scarlet, her breathing ragged. She pushed jet black bangs out of her narrowed eyes. “Come. Quick! Laundry is, well, you’re needed, ma’am.”

Shardae flinched and pressed the button on her earpiece. “Why didn’t you use the blue?”

Yu tapped her own earpiece. The tiny oval button lay dormant. “Commander Ashe’s orders were to leave all comms silent.”

Shardae started for the lift, a half step behind Yu, her anger uncoiling. Why hadn’t Ashe told her? Could be she thought she had, but with Zander’s arrival had forgotten. With teeth clenched, she shoved it out of her mind, but something must’ve given it away.

“The commander ordered the shutdown for non-emergency comms,” Yu explained softly. Her voice barely cleared the spacecraft’s hum. She watched Shardae with guarded curiosity tinged with fear.

The turbo lift’s door shut in a hush.

“And this isn’t an emergency?” Shardae asked, irritation marring her words.

Yu, clearly nervous, hesitated. “Uh, A.I: Level B, section four.”

“Private, I asked you a question.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Yu squeaked. Wringing her hands, she hunched against Shardae’s glare. “It’s the new pilot, ma’am.”

Zander. Somehow, Shardae knew it had something to do with him. Her gut burned.

“Level B, section four,” the A.I. announced.

Shardae’s knuckles ached from her death grip on her pad. She glowered at Yu, who gulped as she took a step back from the now parted lift doors.

“I’ll, I’ll just go back to my station now, ma’am,” she whispered, hovering from one foot to the other, waiting for Shardae’s permission.

“Fine,” Shardae snapped.

The doors hushed closed, but Shardae couldn’t hear them. The roaring of blood in her ears drowned out all other sounds. She didn’t have time for this nonsense. Any minute now she was to report to the cargo section to accept the prisoners from JC Snow.

The laundry’s big, partially open metallic doors came into view. Urgency coiled around her like a vice, squeezing her patience. Shoving her hand, arm, and then torso through the space, Shardae succeeded in parting the doors fully. Every alarm in her body rang out.

The low-ceiled room spread out in a series of washers and dryers. Mounds of clothes covered large chunks of floor. Thick ivory foam filled several washers along the back wall. Across the rows, dryers hissed. Beneath the cleaning aromas, a sour metallic smell permeated like a fungus growing on the underbelly of a beautiful, smooth rock.

In front of her, Zander moved in swift, athletic movements that left a crushed-looking, sanguine-faced O’Leery on the tiled floor, bleeding from his nose. Private Juan Yazzie breathed in raspy gulps. He clasped his left arm to him.

So fast, Zander had put one of her security personnel flat on his ass.

“Explain. This. Now,” she ordered, slightly surprised at how controlled she sounded. The thin crowd of IGO soldiers scattered except for the three guilty men in front of her. Her two soldiers stood awkwardly on either side of Zander. She pinned O’Leery with a glare that revealed the anger tearing through her. He broke eye contact, a sure sign he hid something. His protuberant lips in a tight line spoke of pain, hatred, or both. She shifted her burning gaze to each guilty man. “Don’t make me say it twice.”

Only Zander met her fury. His self-satisfied face broke into a smirk. “Yes, ma’am! Private O’Leery and Private Yazzie were showing me the laundry station,” Zander explained, voice clear, loud. “They were in the middle of explaining the recycled water filtration system, ma’am.”

She seethed, clenching her teeth to bite back the swear words pushing against her throat. “Do I look like a fool, Pilot Reyes?”

“No, ma’am,” he replied, his voice soft. “Not at all.”

Oh, no, he didn’t pull out his dewy voice on me
. In a clipped cold tone, Shardae said, “How did O’Leery’s nose end up like a smashed tomato? Private Yazzie’s arm, a broken tree limb?”

“He fell.” Zander’s smirk broadened.

“Pilot Reyes, now I’m down a man on my security team for a very sensitive situation because of you,” she said bitterly. “This isn’t some game. This isn’t Omega’s diplomatic missions. We’re about security, to protect not only this crew, but
The Discovery
, and… forget it! Obviously, you’ve missed some important lesson about duty and responsibility.”

He sobered as exasperation escaped her control. “I’ll take his place, ma’am,” Zander volunteered.

“Oh no, not him, ma’am,” O’Leery said. “No.”

“What?” She balked before she could stop herself. “No?”

Yazzie’s fresh outburst of complaining ebbed.

She sighed, but one look at Yazzie’s arm told her she couldn’t keep the pilot off security detail now. A quick sidelong glance at O’Leery told her he’d be begging for another bout with Zander. He’d bleat to the others about how Zander hadn’t fought fair. A painful mixture of emotions skated across O’Leery’s face. “O’Leery, you’re just as guilty for this debacle as he is. I trusted you to show him how to do the laundry, not test his mettle.”

“Sergeant Simmons.” Commander Ashe’s deep husk poured through her comm. “Snow contacted. He’s on the way with the packages.”

“Be right there, ma’am,” Shardae responded, voice hard. “Cargo Bay One.”

“See you there,” the commander answered.

Zander grinned at her.

“You two get to medical,” Shardae ordered, anger highlighting every word. “Reyes, you’re with me.”

Despite her rage at the situation, she did like the sound of it.

Chapter 5

Zander didn’t like the way Shardae’s dark brown eyes speared his emotional center. Too much and far too strong for something so new. Still, his heart leapt at her agreement to put him on her security team.

To be perfectly honest, security hadn’t been his strong suit, but he liked being near her. The sergeant had spunk, a quiet fearlessness that he found attractive. A sharp ache turned his stomach when she stormed off disgusted, but really he liked her feisty. He shouldn’t have cared what the feisty woman thought. But he did. Even when his mind denied it, his body betrayed him. The fine hair on his arms tingled when she came near.

Following her wide, angry steps toward the turbo lift, he knew he’d pushed her too hard. Explaining to her would’ve sounded like whining. He didn’t want to tattle. Besides, he’d handled it. O’Leery had come at him the very second he arrived in the laundry room. It hadn’t taken long until the situation had dissolved in fighting. The captain’s son had to be tried. He’d had to defend himself before.

Obviously, Sergeant Simmons didn’t like being assigned to supervise him. The arrangement didn’t fit him either, but orders had to be followed. If nothing else, he’d learned this from his dear old dad.