Captive of Pleasure; the Space Pirate's Woman (The LodeStar Series) (41 page)

She tugged at her hand,
shaking her head, feeling a familiar reluctance, even impatience. ‘It won’t do any good. They want me to finish my studies before I marry. And anyway, I’m not certain, either. Can’t we just go on being friends?’

‘Friends? I don’t want to be just friends with you.’ He gave her a look of frustration, then looked down, lashes veiling his eyes. ‘I’m not good enough for you, am I?’

‘Of course you’re good enough. Why wouldn’t you be?’

His voice turned bitter. ‘Because my name isn’t on any great expeditions like this one—yet. Why can’t you see what we could have? With your family’s name and my talent, I—we could be the best, more famous even than your parents.’

Parents? The edges of the black pulsed with dark light, and agony shot through her head, darting down her spine in jagged lances.
 

“No! I will see.” Gritting her teeth, Zaë pressed her palms to her temples and forged on, peering into the darkness again.
 

She stood in the front of a huge, elegant room. A chamber of state, with a bank of seats at the front, and a platform below where she stood, the woman and a man at her side. No, she was at
their
side. They were the important ones here, bowing to the beings in the seats above, pleased and proud, while she smiled and stood silent and graceful, because that was her role. To be seen and not heard.
 

Now, she was seated, her head tipped to show she was listening attentively as the man and woman stood and spoke to the council and the holocams floating around them, the crowd assembled in the banks of seats filling the rest of the huge room.

‘...with great pride and thankfulness that my wife and I set out,’ the man was saying, his blue eyes sparkling, his handsome face smiling. ‘...do our best to carry the Alliance’ offer of peace and friendship to the peoples we encounter...learn more about them so the Alliance may grow and prosper in peace and charity....’

Applause, then the woman spoke.
 

‘...privilege and pleasure to carry on our work to ... our galaxy. My thanks to the Council for continuing ... take with us your good wishes, and hope to bring them back to you multiplied.’

The man held out his arm, indicating Zaë—only she wasn’t Zaë, she was a prim, ladylike creature constrained in a tight suit, her hair bound up, collar buttoned high. She gave a little wave to the crowd, doing her best to maintain her serene smile when what she really wanted to do was turn and run out of the huge room, away from the cynosure of avid eyes now trained on her, the daughter of these renowned people.

‘And on this journey, we are pleased to have Dr. David Woodby with us, as well as our daughter.’

With no escape, she stepped forward to face the crowds and the cameras.

***

Joran’s com chimed with a link, so he raised a hand as Ilya and Pede followed them out.
 

“Logan,” he said, greeting his brother. “What’s up?”

Logan nodded, and then lifted his hand to one side. “You recognize her?”

Joran stared at the holovid glowing serenely over Logan’s desk. A young woman gazed back at him. Her face shaded by a broad brimmed hat, she wore a suit of the same pale beige, buttoned to her chin. Under muted cosmetics, her face was solemn, her gaze shy. What he could see of her hair was dark blonde. Her face was a tender oval, her mouth soft and full. Her eyes were the blue of Frontieran skies.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “That’s Zaë. You found her.” Although this buttoned up, prim creature wasn’t the Zaë he knew.

“Bronc did. Would you like to know who she is?”

No.
He wanted to break this link, wanted to refuse to listen. What if she wasn’t free? Or someone who would want to be with him? He wanted her to be able to take back her life, but at the same time he didn’t, because it might very well not include him.

His gaze drawn back to her with helpless fascination, Joran braced himself. “Tell me.”

“Lady Elliane Braveling,” Logan said. “Twenty-five years old. Daughter of Sir Samuel and Lady Glora Braveling, both knighted as Exemplars for their work as Anthro-Diplomats throughout the galaxy. Working to understand primitive and outlying peoples and bring them cooperatively into the Alliance.”

Great God beyond. He’d known she was raised as a lady, but not as a Lady. An empty hollow yawned in Joran’s gut. His bunny was no little immi, and sure as hell no servant girl. She wasn’t royalty, but she was as close as a citizen of the new Alliance could get. The daughter of celebrated heroes who worked for peace and unity.
 

Hells, no wonder she could listen to talk about pirates, IGSF commanders and the like and make surprisingly astute observations on trustworthiness or the lack thereof. She’d spent her life at her parents’ knees, learning from them. No doubt being trained to follow in their path. Hells, she probably even knew that singer, Chaz Jaguari.

“The Bravelings kept their daughter close,” Logan went on. “There was an older brother who died years ago—some illness contracted on a backward planet where modern immunizations didn’t even cover the local hazards, so they’re very protective of Elliane.
 

“They were traveling on Tardos with her and an apprentice, a Dr. Woodby,” Logan went on. “Just about to leave after a successful stay. She was headed back to their home on Earth II to attend a seminar at one of the universities; they were headed off to a several-planet voyage, when Lady Elliane disappeared on the eve of their departure. Went out to the garden to retrieve a gift from the local tribeswomen and vanished into thin air.”

“Kidnapped,” Joran said.
 

“Yes. Tardosian surveillance is thin, but the locals did report a small craft landing and taking off from the area. The kidnappers must have rendezvoused with a waiting ship, and taken her from there.”

“For ransom?” Joran shook his head. “No, wait. I remember when this happened. Shit, it was only a lunar month ago. The parents were frantic; let it be known they’d pay a lot to get her back. But no ransom demands ever came in.”

“Yes, which raises the question of why she was taken. She’s certainly attractive,” Logan said. “But if all they wanted was a prostitute to sell, why take the risk of grabbing a woman so well-known throughout the galaxy? Why not some of the attractive local women?”

Joran gave him a look. “On Tardos? Because, unless you’re into blue leather for skin, there aren’t any attractive women.”

He shoved his hands through his hair. “Hells. Need to tell her.”

Logan waited a moment before suggesting gently, “Also her parents, Joran.”

Joran growled in his chest. “Right. So they can cruise in and take her home.”

“As to that,” Logan began. “Someone else has been searching for her. Woodby.”

Joran’s neck swelled. “The assistant?”

Logan nodded. “He claims they are affianced.”

“Fuck me.” Joran looked away from the holovid. She was claimed, then. He’d known all along his Zaë was just an illusion, had to be. No woman could be that lovely, that sweet and not be spoken for.
 

She wasn’t actually married though. And she was here, in his camp, in his bed every night. Determination coalesced in him, sudden and hot. What kind of a name was Woodby, anyway? Which was feeble, but really, what kind ofgrown man stayed an assistant? Probably fetched bottles of water and hankies for the august diplomats.
 

Fuck Woodby, and fuck Lady Elliane’s former life.
 

He pictured again her laughter and excitement as she—his Zaë— rode the catamount pony, how her hair had streamed out behind her and how his cock had hardened just watching her ride the lithe beast. Wanting her riding him that way while he was buried deep inside her.
 

He’d tell her, all right. Then he’d let her choose. He’d just make sure she chose him, for now at least. What good was being a pirate if he didn’t take what he wanted?

Chapter 25

The pain took her, this time so harshly Zaë rocked forward, moaning. A gesic pac landed on the back of her neck, cool and soothing. “Here, honey,” Dano soothed. “Hold still now. You’re okay, we’ve got you.”

Ringi’s hand tightened, holding the pac in place. “Take it easy, girl. Don’t try too hard.”

Their voices washed over her along with the soothing buzz from the gesic. She shook her head, ignoring the sweat springing out on her skin.
 

She opened her eyes and peered at them. “I can do this,” she said. “I can.”

“Stark will not be happy, if he sees you like this.” Dano looked worried. “You’re shaking and sweating like you’re running for your life.”

She
was
running for her life—running to catch it and hold on, get it back. But finally having begun, it was as exhilarating as it was difficult. She felt as if her body and mind were open to the galaxy, ready to suck in energy and then burst into bloom.

“I’m all right,” she insisted. “I’ll rest for a moment, and then begin again.”

“Zaë!” The tont hatch opened, and Stark stepped in. He took in the three of them, and scowled. “What the hells is going on? Bunny, you all right?”

She stared at him. “Joran. Yes, I’m fine. I’m better than fine.”

He strode toward her, and Dano and Ringi moved back. Stark dropped to one knee before the divan, his hands framing her face. “What is it? Tell me.”

“I’m regaining my memories,” she told him. “It’s working.”

Something moved in his gaze. His hands tightened on her face. “You remember who you are?”

“No, but I’m beginning to see things. Parents—I have parents, and I travelled with them.”

“That’s enough for now.” He surged to his feet, and then pulled her up with him, into his arms.

Zaë stared up at him, shocked but pleased. She was even more so when he gave her a look full of heat and promise.
 

“Time to move on,” he said. “To something else we both want.”

His arms tightened, one of his hands cupping her bottom, the other sliding up to cup the back of her neck as he bent his head and kissed her.

“We’ll just be going now,” Dano murmured from behind Joran.
 

“See you later,” Ringi added. The two left the tont, and the hatch snicked shut behind them.

“But I wasn’t finished,” Zaë mumbled against Joran’s lips.

”Yeah, you were.” Joran pulled her closer. His mouth was hot and insistent, his lips covering hers, his tongue sliding into tangle with hers. Zaë slid her hands up into his hair, reveling in the chance to cup his head in her hands, to caress the smooth and stubble of his angular cheek, and sank into the kiss, letting his taste and heat sweep the world away until there was only the two of them, together. Her headache receded as if it had never existed.
 

He lifted her up, and she hitched her legs up around his hips without thought, and held on as he carried her through the cool, quiet tont to his bedroom. There he laid her back in the pillows, coming down over her, still kissing her as he levered his lower body up onto the bed, his knees between hers, his hardness settling in the notch of her thighs, exactly where she wanted him, needed him to be.

She whimpered into his mouth and he rocked, rubbing his rampant maleness against her.
 

“Still my Zaë,” he muttered.
 

“Yes,” she pleaded. “Please, yes.”

He smiled slowly at her and took another sipping kiss. “Oh, I’ll please you, my lady. Gonna make it my mission to drive you crazy with pleasure. Wanna hear you scream my name so loud the whole camp hears you. You gonna do that for me, my Zaë?”

She nodded without a trace of coyness. “Yes.”

***

He undressed her slowly, drawing each piece of clothing away and then touching and kissing each part uncovered.

Naked, she let him lay her back on the bed, the coverlet cool and smooth under her bare skin, and watched as he reached behind his head with one arm to yank his shirt off. He tossed it aside and pushed down his pants and underwear with one motion, then stepped out of them.

She reveled in the molten heat in his silver gaze as he looked her over. As he knelt on the bed with her, his nostrils flared, and his jaw clenched as he laid one hand on her throat, touching the collar.

“Like the way you look wearing nothing but my collar,” he said. Her whole body clenched at the possessive growl in his voice.

“So that’s the real reason you put it on me,” she dared to tease, then watched his slow smile.

His gaze followed his touch as he stroked his hands down over her, playing her breasts, spanning the indentation of her waist, and then the flare of her hips.
 

“May as well admit it,” he said. “Makes me hard every time I see it around your throat. And the rest of you...so pretty. So fucking pretty.”

“You’re beautiful,” she told him, lifting her hands to touch him. He was hot and silky in her hands, and there was so much of him to touch—all hers, at least for now.