His Virtual Bride (7 page)

Geoff chuckled. "I doubt they were that big."

"It took a wheeled cart to carry them all to that humongous gambling machine. When I couldn't reach the slot and refused to let anybody else put in the chips, they found a really high chair." She stretched her arms over her head. "And handed the chips--"

"One by one."

"Well of course one at a time. You can't put them all in all at once." She looked at him as if waiting for another snide comment. "Anyway…I managed to get all thirteen credits registered on the machine's counter. Since I was betting every single credit, I wanted them all counted."

"You bet them all at once?"

Impatience glittered in her eyes. "I made sure the shift boss registered them, too. By then quite a crowd had gathered. Not that I was showing off or--"

"Sure," Geoff drawled, earning another impatient look.

"I stood on that really high chair and patted and cooed to the machine. Like I did to the little one?"

Geoff could imagine Keely's nicely rounded derriere switching back and forth while every male in the place tried to look up her skirt. What there was of it. "I remember the whole ritual."

"Then, when I grabbed its arm, somebody pulled the chair away. I just hung on, but--even when the arm went all the way down --I was afraid to let go. So the shift boss sorta boosted me up and put me on the ground. I let go of the arm and we all stood there--our mouths hanging open like sweating dogs."

Geoff had to give her credit for dragging out the suspense. But he knew the ending and wanted to talk about where they were going and how they could find
The Honey
.

"You recall how the wheels stop from left to right on the little machine?" He nodded. "On the big one they stopped all over the place. I mean in no particular order." She drew a deep breath, then continued. "I thought the shift boss would claim the machine had malfunctioned, but he just stood there --gaping like everybody else."

Geoff knew he shouldn't say a word or so much as blink.

Keely bounced in her pilot's chair, her excitement obvious for the first time. "When every line--across, up, down and diagonally--stopped on blank, the crowd groaned. Guess they thought I'd lost. But the boss and I knew differently. We just looked at each other."

"No bells? No lights and sirens?"

"Not a sound. Guess the casino didn't want to start a run on the credits they owed me." Folding her arms under her breasts, she shot him a grin of malevolent satisfaction.

When he found his voice and had dragged it from his feet to his vocal cords, he asked, "How rich are you?"

"Rich enough to fund our continuing search for
Honey
. Without either of us having to work for Paris anymore."

"Praise Jove."

"Praise Herma-Frodie. They fixed it so I could win."

 Somehow the announcement didn't surprise him. For whatever reason--and no matter how irrational it might seem to others--he knew weird things happened when Herma-Frodie appeared. Hell, they didn't even need a physical presence to wreak havoc in human lives. Usually they messed with peoples' libidos, driving the unsuspecting, otherwise sane people into behaving…like sex–starved loons.

Usually, the hermaphrodite just maneuvered couples into falling in love. This time--praise Jove!--they'd freed him from imagining himself digging his own grave.

Saving him from images of his own death, Keely opened the gold case and Herma-Frodie wafted out. By the time
No-Name
expanded to accommodate four, the hermaphrodite had solidified. Ensconced in a wide chair, they sat in silence, but looked first at Keely, then at Geoff.

At last Herma asked the question on all their minds. "Where are we going?"

"Sedna," Keely replied, obviously believing that decision was hers to make without discussion.

"Why Sedna?" Geoff challenged. "It's the last minor planet--"

"That we know about," she interrupted. "It's also tricky to get to because of a nifty little half–jump at the very end of any approach. No matter what direction you're coming from. Sedna's also surrounded by really dense asteroid belts. Easy to lose anybody tailing us." She raised her index finger, silencing all questions or objections. "It's also the perfect spot to hide a spaceship." Her smile smug she added, "And if
Le Roi
is
involved in
Honey's
theft, Sedna is close enough to Pluto for him to get to her… fairly easily."

"Except for that nifty little half–jump," Geoff mumbled.

"You did pay attention."

"No place to hide," Frodie mumbled loud enough to be heard.

"Frodie, shame on you," Keely scolded, the laughter in her voice making Herma giggle.

Frodie covered his mouth. Geoff suspected that the Heathcliff–doppelganger hid a smile. That made Geoff grin. Wanting to share his amusement, Geoff glanced at Keely.

Chin on her hand, a smile still curved her lips. But she was sound asleep. Studying
No-Name
's controls left him feeling cross-eyed.
The Honey
always sensed when he wanted to stretch out. Even on the command deck she made adjustments to his chair, somehow managing to keep him alert while easing any discomfort in his muscles. He wanted to do the same for Keely. But nothing on
No-Name's
control panel made sense to him.

"Permit…"

"Us," Herma finished for her mate.

"Anything you can do to make her comfortable… Thanks."

In seconds, without saying a word or seeming to move, the couple had Keely reclining with a pillow under her head and a lightweight blanket over her.

The hermaphrodite looked at him as if awaiting orders. For some reason Frodie's dark eyes seemed broodier than usual. Even Herma looked concerned.

"Give me a minute here. I'll meet you in the galley when I finish."

"Do you want something to eat? Frodie is an excellent cook."

"I know," Geoff told Herma, cutting her off in case she decided to list every dish in Frodie's repertoire. "Maybe after we talk."

"Geoff concerned about Keely," Frodie offered. His truncated speech relieved Geoff's paranoid idea that someone had slipped in a ringer on him.

Herma smiled at her mate. "We have a few glitches to work out." Looping her arm with his, she guided him out.

Geoff turned his attention to Keely. She had rolled to her side and had tucked one hand under her pillow. The other rested on her chest just under her chin. She looked so angelic Geoff felt a strange ache around his heart.

By Jove, I like her
. And he wanted to help her regain her memory and find any family she might have.
After
he found
The Honey
and the person who'd stolen her. But first, he needed to know if Keely's bank–breaking friends had put her in danger.

Entering the galley, he found Herma-Frodie in a passionate embrace and wondered how and if they managed to have sex. Especially since their heights were so different. The image of Keely in his arms, the memory of her skin under his hands as she snuggled against him was so real he stumbled over his own feet. Fighting the impulse to return to the flight deck and kiss Keely into wild sensuous awareness, he cleared his throat.

Arms still around each other, Herma-Frodie looked at him.

"Is she in danger?" Geoff asked.

"Only from you," Frodie replied
sotto voce
.

Herma poked his ribs and he winced.

Geoff laughed, completely convinced by Frodie's caustic remark the couple was real. That they were the hermaphrodite who'd meddled in his extended family's love lives for years.

"We didn't help her win all those credits," Herma vowed, sounding defensive.

"Whatever fixing of the machine that went on, Miss Keely did herself."

Flummoxed, Geoff collapsed into a chair that conveniently appeared under him. "Thanks."

"Easier than picking you up off the deck."

Flashing a
shut up
look at her mate, Herma went on. "We don't know how she did it."

"But…Keely
fixed
it?"

"The casino management thought she did. They checked the machine's databanks for a couple of hours. When they found no signs of tampering of any kind, they paid her."

"Only after they searched her for any electronic or magnetic gizmos she might have used," Frodie explained, helpful for the first time Geoff could recall.

"Afterwards…" Herma shut her mouth and refused to look at Geoff or Frodie.

"Afterward?" the men insisted.

"I…I asked the machine if Keely had somehow done something magical to it."

"Had she?" Geoff demanded in his softest flight commander's voice. Even
The Honey
obeyed that voice.

Herma obeyed as well, saying, "No. The machine told me he liked her voice when she talked to him. And he especially liked her touch when she patted his belly."

"Jonathan Jacob Jones," Geoff swore softly. That short, bossy female had become a
femme fatale
.

"Is Geoff hungry now?" Frodie asked

"No! But I could use a drink. A stiff…"

A large snifter--filled to the brim with Saturnian brandy--appeared in his hand. "Thanks." He drank half of it in a long, throat- and gut-burning gulp.

The next morning Geoff awoke in the copilot's chair. He couldn't remember getting there. But, with his head feeling as large as Keely's big blue and white Earth marble, he wasn't surprised at his memory lapse. Worse, his mouth felt as if he'd swallowed every piece of space dust in the entire galaxy.

A glass of something reddish–orange appeared under his nose. It stank like sulfur, but he drank it anyway. Hell, he'd drink hemlock if he believed it would cure his hangover.

"Better?" Keely's amused voice seemed to bounce off the flight deck's bulkhead before pounding on his head.

"No," he groaned, opening his eyes. Blinking rapidly, he managed to focus on her face. With her freckles dotting her nose and her eyes looking down at him with concerned amusement, she looked like a freshly scrubbed schoolgirl. One of those underage sirens in a short plaid skirt, prim white blouse and knee-high socks that could tempt all the saints in the universe and make them believe hell a better place than heaven.

Chuckling softly, she brushed her fingers over his forehead. The pain he eased. "Better?" she asked again.

"A little."

Somehow she managed to sit him up and straddle his legs.
Oh boy
! His cock celebrated the heat of her pelvis pressed against it. His brain yelped with the quake of blood that raced through it to every nerve ending in his body. Yet everywhere she touched felt better and better.

"Bet you were healer in that life you can't remember." When her fingers left his temples, the pounding renewed. Opening his eyes, he pleaded, "Don't stop."

"What makes you think I'm a healer?"

"You have magical hands."

"Uh-huh. I suppose you've had a lot of experience with magical hands."

"Not personally," he admitted, pleased by the under note of jealousy in her melodious voice. "My cousin is married to Venusian healer whose grandmother is also one."

"Is she--your cousin's wife--the same Venusian whore who stole your cousin from Queen Paris?"

"There was no stealing involved. Connor fell for Kendra like ten tons of space junk the minute he saw her. Besides, Ki--Paris should be grate… Ahh, that feels good."

Keely had moved her hands from his temples to the back of his stiff neck. Her fingers now worked their magic there. She'd had to shift to reach him and her breasts --level with his chin --tempted him to lave the valley between them. He liked what he could see of her clothes. Her black leather vest clung to her torso, its deep V revealing that tempting valley between her breasts. He even liked what he could feel of the rest of her clothes--tight pants that clung to her ass and legs like a lover's hands. He ran his hands over her buttocks, delighted when she squirmed.

 "Paris should be grateful for what?" Keely's voice drew him from imagining her reaction to his tongue on her breasts, his erection responding to her heat.

"For Kendra's helping
Le Roi
fake his own death." Geoff groaned again. Keely had stopped massaging his neck and the pain had returned. But the dull ache behind his eyes was all that remained. "Thanks."

Keely returned to the pilot's seat. He missed her warmth, but sensed he'd upset her.

"What's wrong?"

"Just a momentary pity party. Self-pity."

Geoff took her hand. "Can't blame you, Keely. Nobody could."

Her smile looked ragged at the edges, but she said, "Thanks." A deep sigh cleared the sadness from her eyes.

"A gentleman would've waited." She opened
No-Name's
view screen. A blanket of black and white and red greeted them--white stars with dots of red interstellar dust scattered like pixie magic throughout the midnight black sky. He knew the colors were visible only because of the view screen's infrared capability, but he still found the vision enthralling.

"Waited for what?" He asked the question without looking at Keely. The sky he'd longed to explore as a kid held him captive in her embrace.

"For that celebratory drink that left you with a hangover."

"If we both got drunk who'd fly
No-Name
?"

"She'd fly herself." Keely chuckled. "Until we got to that tricky half-jump anyway."

Smiling, Geoff confessed, "I've never been out this far."

"Pluto's nearest now. We could swing by en route to Sedna."

"Why?"

Keely's shrug looked stiff. "See if
Le Roi's
still there?"

"You think Paris would lie about him escaping?"

"She's lied about other things. Why not lie about him?"

"I…I don't think she'd lie about her great-uncle. His supposed death keeps her on her throne. She needs him found and put where she knows his whereabouts."

"Wouldn't it be easier to make his death real?"

Geoff started to object, but couldn't. He barely knew the girl named Kiki. He knew even less about Queen Paris.