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Authors: Jocelyn Han

Tags: #erotic romance, #sci-fi romance, #futuristic, #futuristic romance

Chase You To The Sun (8 page)

BOOK: Chase You To The Sun
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Armed with a small towel and a bottle of shower gel from her baggage, Lana tiptoed out into the hallway in her tank top and shorts, the clothes she’d used for pajamas. Somehow, wearing her short, silk night gown hadn’t seemed appropriate last night. Despite Bruce’s words of reassurance, she had still locked her door, anxiously listening for footsteps out in the hallway for a long time before drifting off to sleep. Nothing had happened – John had stayed away, and so had Bruce.

Lana’s cheeks burned with shame when she thought back to last night’s hushed conversation at her doorstep. Why the hell had she let that take place? The worst thing was that she didn’t just feel threatened by the fact Bruce had asked her that question full of dark promise – she felt
intrigued
. Terrified, but fascinated. If only her dad knew what thoughts were going around in her head, he’d probably shell out another gazillion rubles to get her out of here pronto.

“Get a grip,” she muttered to herself, trying several doors to the left of her room before hitting the entrance to a large bathroom, complete with sinks, a giant tub and a frosted glass shower enclosure in the left corner. A small smile tugged at her lips as Lana locked the door and walked over to the shower. Perfect. This was just what she needed.

As the hot water ran and steamed up the shower cubicle, Lana quickly shrugged out of her makeshift PJs. She stepped under the spray and gasped when the water almost burned her skin. It felt good, though – it made her feel clean and focused. The lavender-scented shower cream on her skin did wonders for her shot nerves. Back on Mars, she’d always used it after a long day at college. It felt like a little piece of home, almost bringing tears to her eyes.

Grabbing her towel, Lana dried off and wrapped it around her body before stepping up to the mirror above the sink. Tired, hazel eyes stared back at her. She wished she could put on some make-up, but her mascara and eyeliner were still in her handbag on board Captain Blanco’s ship.

After washing her face with some cold water, Lana picked up her clothes and walked over to open the door. When she unlocked it, though, someone simultaneously pulled it open from the other side. Stumbling back, Lana shot a mortified look at the door swinging open, sucking in her breath when Bruce calmly stepped inside.

He was wearing nothing but a black towel around his hips. His entire upper body was gloriously naked and masculine, his tanned torso so tempting and terrifyingly broad and gracious at the same time that Lana felt her heart flutter with fear and lust.  Her eyes roved over the bunching muscles of his shoulders and his wide, hairless chest before darting down to the leanness of his flat abdomen. Her face grew so hot she swore the capillaries in her cheeks would burst.

“Oh my God,” she squeaked, realizing too late she’d said the words out loud.

“Good morning to you too,” Bruce replied deadpan.

Lana shook herself out of her stupor. “I mean, I’m sorry. To bother you,” she stammered.

His eyes bored into hers. “Looks like you’re more bothered than I am.”

“I’m...” The words caught in her throat. She didn’t even know
what
words would come out if her tongue ever started working properly again.

“Next time you should probably get dressed before leaving the bathroom, little girl,” he continued with a faint, belittling grin. “I don’t think you want to bump into John. Not if you’re wrapped in just that skimpy towel.” It sounded even more patronizing because he was absolutely right.

Lana couldn’t stop herself from talking back, though. “Stop calling me that.”

“What?”

“I’m not a little girl,” she muttered as irritably as she dared, biting her lip in apprehension when Bruce cocked his head. He took a step closer, and another one. As he stood there towering over her, his eyes slowly drank in her body, lingering on her barely covered breasts for a few seconds too long.

“No, you’re not,” he established quietly, subtly smiling in amusement when she turned red. “I think you’re old enough.”

“For what?” she blurted out without thinking. Because obviously, standing this close to Bruce only wearing a towel slung around his hips had effectively destroyed any filter between her brain and her mouth.

He cocked an eyebrow, his burning stare turning darker. “You need me to spell it out for you?” he said, his voice low.

Lana swallowed hard, trying to push away a mental image of Bruce hooking his fingers into the towel covering her boobs to pull her in and breathe ‘H-O-T-S-E-X’ into her ear. “No, I, uhm, I get it,” she bumbled.

“Do you?”

“Yes.” She scuttled backward, feeling for the door handle with the hand she wasn’t using to hold up her towel dress.

“Go on, out you go,” Bruce told her darkly. “Before I really embarrass you.”

She gasped when he leisurely started to pull out the tightly tucked end of his towel to lower it, a hint of dark-blonde pubic hair peeping out over the edge. Lana blindly whipped around and stumbled out of the bathroom, her face flaming with incriminating heat.

Oh God. She had to get dressed, get out of the house and take a long walk outside to cool off and get her mind off whatever the hell had just happened – or had almost happened, anyway. As she burst back into her room, Lana decided she’d ask Chester to accompany her in the garden. If Bruce was awake at this hour, the rest of the gang would most likely wake up soon, too. And after her walk she’d go back to her room and try to call Tori and Alen. Had her friends told her father about the phone she was secretly using?  She might pass on a message via Tori – and ask him to tell her friend the long story that would explain why Bruce wanted what he did from Ivanov Mining Industries. Last night’s talk had left her hanging, and if anything, she needed to know how trustworthy Bruce and his stories really were. For all she knew, he was trying to brainwash her, winning her over to his side by poisoning her mind with lies.

By the time she got downstairs, a breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast was on the table. Chester and Bruce were in the living room, their discussion trailing off when Lana entered.

“Sorry to bother you,” she mumbled in the direction of the two men as she stalked over to the hot food.

“You keep saying that,” Bruce commented drily.

Lana looked up and met his gaze, surprised when she saw an almost playful glint in his gray eyes. “Yeah, I know. But I really mean it,” she said. “Seriously.”

“Well.” He smirked. “Good to hear you’re so contrite, Sveta.” The letters rolled off his tongue like honey. Hearing him using the diminutive of her name somehow made her shy – and very aware of the fact he knew how much her dad cared about her. He’d used that name for her during the video call. Her father had been close to tears last night, and Bruce had seen it all. She was the best means of pressure he’d ever get his hands on. 

“Can I sit on the patio with my food?” She held up her plate containing eggs and a bread roll.

Bruce nodded. “Stay close, though. I want you after breakfast.”

“S-sure.” Lana blinked, not actually sure what to make of his remark. What did he need her for? And why didn’t he say ‘need’ instead of ‘want’? Feeling completely flustered, she scuttled over to the open doors, sighing with relief when she saw the force field was finally down. That meant sunshine – and phone reception. Lana went outside and sat down on the edge of the deck with her plate on her knees, staring up into the endlessly blue sky. No matter how bleak her situation, this place was pretty amazing. Maybe she should try and enjoy the silver linings in her otherwise cloudy sky a little bit more.

She started when someone tapped her on the shoulder. Looking up, Lana saw it was Chester. “You want some coffee?” he said.

“I’d like that.” She shot him a grateful smile.

“I’ll bring you some.”

It was now official – Chester was her favorite person in the Randall mansion. He’d stood between her and John the rapist, and he offered her drinks. Maybe she should talk to him if she wanted more information about this gang of criminals – he didn’t seem like the type to immediately bite her head off if she posed one question too many.

“Can I ask you something?” Lana said, glancing nervously over her shoulder to keep an eye on Bruce as Chester handed her a mug of coffee.

The gray, tall man took a seat next to her, cradling a cup of black tea in his hands. “You can try,” he said with a smile.

“What’s the connection between my mom and the people working here?”

“I’m not supposed to talk about that,” Chester replied. “If you want to know, you’ll have to ask Bruce.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. The mere thought of asking Bruce that question scared the hell out of her. He’d probably get angry or give her the whole ‘don’t-play-innocent-with-me’ speech again. For some reason, he assumed she knew more than she actually did, and it was driving her nuts. “They weren’t lovers by any chance, were they?” she asked, rolling her eyes. Now
that
would be an interesting – and shocking – plot twist.

Chester chuckled. “No, don’t worry. Bruce doesn’t do the love thing.”

She frowned. “What do you mean, he doesn’t do the love thing?”

“Well, since he runs a criminal cabal all by himself, he doesn’t get involved with anyone. It’s too much risk. If the police arrest your girlfriend, you’re in trouble. If a woman’s love softens you, someone else will take your crown and take your place.” Chester shrugged. “His words, not mine.”

Lana blinked. “So, he doesn’t, uhm, hang out with girls? Ever?”

The old hacker next to her laughed out loud now. “Sure he does. A lot, in fact. He just doesn’t get involved. Why, he strikes you as a celibatarian?”

His question made her cheeks flame. “No,” she mumbled, thinking back to just an hour ago and the moment he’d stepped into the bathroom almost completely naked. Bruce knew exactly how nervous he’d made her, because he knew very well how to tempt a woman. “Not really.”

Chester shot her a warning glance. “You be careful now.”

“W-what do you mean?” Lana stared down at her hands.

“You know what I mean.”

“Okay,” she said, exhaling forcefully. “Different subject. What are
you
doing here?”

“Ah.” He sighed. “Bruce and I go back a long way. I knew him when he was still Mr. Randall. In fact, I used to correct his spelling and check his homework.”

“You – what?” Lana gaped at him.

“I was his private teacher. Taught his brother too, as a matter of fact.”

“So you were employed by an Elite family?”

Chester nodded. “Up until the point where Bruce turned his back on the Randalls. He asked me to come with him because he trusted me.”

Lana didn’t know what to say. “Why would you give up a well-paid teaching career in order to work for a space pirate?” she finally voiced her surprise.

Bruce’s ex-teacher stared back at her, a ghost of a smile crossing his face. “Loyalty.”

“So...” She bit her lip. “You think he’s not such a bad guy?”

“Oh, he is. Make no mistake about it – Bruce is dangerous. I don’t agree with a lot of things he does, and I always tell him. But deep down, I know what drives him. And it’s not a thirst for power or violence.”

“Chester.”

Lana gasped for breath when Bruce unexpectedly appeared behind them on the deck interrupting their conversation, his voice sounding gruff. “You tend to talk too much, old man.”

The old hacker turned around and shot his old student an amicable grin. “And you tend to keep in too much.”

“I need you to leave,” Bruce continued as if he hadn’t heard the criticism, but a small, genuine smile played around his lips when he looked at Chester.

“Okay. I’m out of here.”

Lana resisted the urge to lock her hand around Chester’s wrist and beg him to stay. She knew it wouldn’t help – if Bruce wanted her alone, he would get her alone. It was best to steel herself against his unpleasant way of conversing with her by talking to him as honestly and openly as she could.

As he lowered himself next to her, Lana involuntarily edged a little ways away from him, though. When Chester sat that close, it was fine. When Bruce sat that close, it made her much too self-conscious. “So, uhm, what can I do for you?” she blathered, cursing herself for sounding like some kind of sales assistant.

Bruce arched an eyebrow. “Wow, aren’t you being helpful this morning?” He handed her a pad that looked awfully familiar – it was her own device, the one they’d taken from her while she was unconscious. “Since you have the codes to log into the apps tracking the stock market, I’d like you to log on and check if your dear father has kept his promise.”

“Why do you need my account for that?” Lana asked.

“Because I know the info on there will be one hundred percent accurate. There’s no way Ivanov Enterprises is able to upload falsified data into the financial system you use for work.”

“You think they’d try to trick you into thinking all export to Mars and Luna has stopped?”

“Quite possibly.” Bruce tipped his head at the pad. “Go on. Switch it on. For your sake, I hope your father won’t try to lie to me about his actions.”

Her breath hitched. “And if he does?”

“I might have to rough you up just a little bit to drive my point home.” Bruce glanced aside, fixing her with his gaze. “Leave a few bruises here and there. So he can see I mean business.”

Lana gulped down the nervous lump in her throat. “You really have to?”

“Yes.”

“Well, can’t you – use facial paint or something? So it looks real on screen?”

He stared at her incredulously before letting out a snigger. “Do I look like a makeup artist to you?”

“Well, I could do it myself. I used to help out backstage during school plays. My mom taught me how to. She loved theater. We used to sing together, too. And do skits.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, keeping quiet.

“I’m babbling,” she added lamely. “I’m so sorry.”

“You know, for a trade liaison, you’re pretty bad at negotiating.” A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Now log in, please. Who knows, you might not even need your makeup box.”

Lana blinked. Did he just crack a joke? She could feel Bruce’s eyes on her as she turned on the pad, the wallpaper featuring a picture of her and her mom on vacation six years ago. What did this man really know about her death? Had they somehow been acquainted, and if so, why? Did they once move in the same circles, Bruce formerly being Elite? Her mom had had an eventful life, having lived all across the solar system before she’d met Anatoly Ivanov, Lana’s dad.

BOOK: Chase You To The Sun
12.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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