Tiger of Talmare (11 page)

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Authors: Nina Croft

BOOK: Tiger of Talmare
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"Good, I think." Leila paused, glanced from one of them to the other. "Right then, I'm heading back to the ship. I'll see you there."

 

She moved off, and Mel went to follow. As she took her first step, the burn flared into life and red hot pain shot through her. "Ouch, that hurts."

 

Each movement sent a shaft of pure agony up her spine. Zach moved toward her, and she put up a hand to stop him. "No closer."

 

"I was just going to help."

 

"I'm not sure I can take any more of your help."

 

"Don't be such a sissy."

 

He stood looking at her for a while, head cocked to one side, considering his options. "There's only one way to do this," he said eventually. His hands went to her waist, and he picked her up, effortlessly tossing her over his shoulder. She hung there helpless as he adjusted her position.

 

"Let me down."

 

"Stop wriggling," he replied. One large hand clamped her in place with an iron grip around her thigh, careful not to touch the tender skin where the blaster had hit. She could feel his thumb digging into the soft flesh.

 

"Hey, watch the claws," she grumbled.

 

He loosened his grip slightly, and she forced herself to breathe out and relax.

 

"Thank you," he said and set off after Leila.

 

Hanging upside down, it seemed like a long journey. Her cheek pressed against his lower back, her arms dangled down below his buttocks. She could feel the heat from his body, smell the hot sweat mixed with Zach's own particular musky, almost feral scent.

 

Her breasts, squashed against the rock solid hardness of his back, felt swollen, the sensitive peaks rubbing against the soft material of his T-shirt as he moved. His hand was stroking her leg. She thought about complaining, but it was doing too good a job of taking her mind off her injuries. He held her steady while his thumb rubbed small circles on her inner thigh. It was having a curious effect on her insides, which seemed to be turning molten and threatening to slide from her body.

 

The sensation was completely new and not unpleasant, and she wondered what it would feel like if his thumb moved a little bit higher. She shifted restlessly, and his hand slid up to the juncture of her thighs, his fingers curling inside, pressing upward, and she groaned.

 

He chuckled, a very self-satisfied masculine chuckle that had her bristling.

 

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked.

 

"Taking your mind off the pain." He flexed his fingers, and she shuddered against him. "Is it working?" he asked.

 

She opened her mouth to answer, but at that moment, he came to a standstill. She raised her head from where it rested against his broad back. They were back at
The Revenge
. Darla was standing in the open hatchway, her mouth open. She caught Mel's eye. Mel glared, and Darla shut her mouth. Then she shook her head. "Are you okay?" she asked. "Leila said you'd been shot."

 

"Obviously, I'm not okay," Mel said. "If I was okay I would be walking and not being carted around like so much luggage."

 

"Actually, she said you'd been shot by Zach."

 

"I was saving her life," Zach muttered. "Why does no one ever mention that bit?"

 

Mel thumped his back.

 

"Oomph!" he said. "What was that for?"

 

"I think you can let me down now. I can make it to the sick-bay, and if I need anything, I'm sure Darla can help."

 

"I'm not letting you out of my sight until I get my reward for saving your life," he said and strode past Darla through the open hatch.

 

"Wait!"

 

He paused. "What now? This is not open to negotiations."

 

"Just a sec." She pulled the money bag from inside her shirt and tossed it to Darla. "Spare parts money."

 

Zach didn't falter as he made his way through the ship. She wanted to ask how he knew his way, but realized it was a stupid question. After all, it had been his ship once. A long time ago.

 

As they reached the sick-bay, Mel felt the engines fire up and
The Revenge
take off. She sighed with relief; she wanted to get as far away from Sanderson as possible. Zach lowered her gently to the floor. Once down and on her own feet, she realized just how much she hurt.

 

Heat radiated out from the blaster burn, a deep throbbing pain, and sweat beaded on her forehead. She bit her lip to stop the whimper from leaving her mouth and swayed. Zach reached out to steady her.

 

"Here," he said, "lean on the bed."

 

He turned her gently, placing her hands on the bed. Crouching down, he took hold of her ankle. "Lift," he ordered.

 

"Why?"

 

"Can you never do anything without an argument? I need to take your boots off."

 

She raised her foot and winced as he tugged off the boot. He repeated the action with the other foot, then straightened, his hands moving to her waist. Untying the red sash, he tossed it to the floor. Before she could even think, he was unfastening her pants, and she put a hand over his.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

He ignored the question, and she slapped weakly at his hand.

 

"Hey, stop that," he said. "How do you expect me to treat you if I don't take your pants off? Besides, do you seriously think there's anything there I'm not going to see in the very near future?"

 

She dropped her hand to her side and didn't object when he unclipped the fastener and started to tug them over her hips.

 

Someone coughed. Mel glanced over her shoulders to see Darla hovering in the open doorway. "I just came to see if you need any help," she said.

 

"No, we don't, thank you," Zach replied.

 

Darla looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Are you all right with this, Mel?"

 

Was she? When she hesitated, Zach leaned across and kissed her neck, the tip of his tongue, hot and moist, teasing her skin. He nipped at the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulders, then breathed in her ear. "Get rid of her."

 

Ripples of pleasure shivered their way down her spine. She forced herself to concentrate.

 

"Er, I'm fine," she said, "Zach's just going to..."

 

"Make you feel better," he whispered in her ear.

 

"Make me feel better," she repeated almost automatically.

 

Darla gave her a disgusted look. "Who's forgotten the bit about eating babies now?"

 

Zach went rigid behind her. "One last time," he said very slowly. "I did not eat any babies. I did not eat anybody. Okay?"

 

"If you say so. Right, I'll be off then."

 

"Actually," Zach said, "there is one thing you can do."

 

"Yes?"

 

He held up his wrists. "Take these fucking cuffs off!"

 

Darla glanced at Mel.

 

"Spoilsport," Mel muttered. "I had big plans for those cuffs." Zach gave her a look, and she shrugged. "Oh, take them off him. He'll only moan otherwise."

 

Darla stepped into the room. She took the activator from her pocket and a small silver key from the key ring on her belt. The key slipped into a small hole on the side of the right bracelet, and she twisted.

 

The cuffs sprang open. Zach removed them and handed them to Darla. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a patient to treat." He followed her to the door, closing it behind her, before turning back to Mel. "Now, where were we?" He crossed the room slowly. "Turn around." His voice was low, husky, delicious.

 

Mel turned.

 

For a moment, his hands rested on her hips, then he slipped his fingers into the waistband of her pants, so cool against her burning skin. The material stuck slightly to the wound, and he tugged until they came free.

 

Finally, they were down and pooled around her ankles.

 

"Now isn't that pretty," Zach purred from behind her.

 

She started to turn, but he held her in place.

 

"No," he said. "Rest your hands on the bed and lean over."

 

She wasn't sure she liked the sound of that.

 

Or maybe she liked it too much. She was feeling a little confused, which wasn't like her at all. It must be the injury affecting her brain.

 

Maybe she'd better do as she was told.

 

She rested with her eyes closed. Didn't move as Zach's fingers stroked gently across her heated flesh. The lightest of touches. "I've marked you," he murmured.

 

"Well, don't sound so pleased about it."

 

He didn't respond. Instead, he moved away to rummage in one of the cabinets lining the room.

 

"Now, hold still," he said. "I'm going to spray on some local, and I don't want to numb more than I have to. I'd hate to cut off all feeling to the area."

 

"Just hurry up and do it. I'm in agony here."

 

"Shh," he crooned. "Tiger will make the pain go away."

 

"I should bloody think so since he caused it in the first place." Leila spoke from the doorway, and Zach went instantly still. He swore. "I'm sure I locked that door."

 

"Yeah, well, there are no locked doors on this ship. Right, Mel?"

 

Mel thought for a moment; here she was, pants around her ankles, arse on fire. She twisted her head around so she could look Leila in the face. "Actually, wrong. Bugger off, and lock the door behind you."

 

Leila shrugged. "I just wanted to check you're okay. Darla said she wasn't sure."

 

"Darla's a troublemaker."

 

"Actually, she's jealous. I'll be off then." She paused in the doorway. "Just be careful," she said to Mel. "Because, I tell you, there's some pretty kinky stuff going on inside his head."

 

"Will you stay out of my fucking head?" Zach snarled.

 

Leila ignored him. "And whatever you do, don't let him get his hands on those cuffs." She shook her head, blond hair swinging. "Seriously kinky."

 

A low growl rumbled in Zach's throat. Leila just smiled, waggled her fingers and left.

 

As the door slid closed behind her, Mel sighed. "How kinky?"

 

"Wait and see. Now hold still."

 

Mel held still. The effect was instantaneous, the cool spray taking the pain away. "Ooh, that's lovely," she sighed.

 

"And I haven't even started yet."

 

Next came some sort of cream, Zach stroked it over the burns, but she couldn't feel a thing. It was sheer bliss.

 

"I'm not going to put a dressing on as this stuff works best if the wounds left open. There's less chance of it leaving a scar."

 

She peered over her shoulder at him. "You sound like you've a lot of experience with this sort of thing."

 

"I was in the army, it happens. There, that's done." He wiped his hands on a towel. "How does it feel?"

 

Mel straightened up slowly, expecting to feel the sting of pain, but there was nothing. "Definitely an improvement, though I really wouldn't want to sit on it for a while."

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