Rayven's Keep (7 page)

“I was a bit busy,” Nick answered, his tone dry. He pulled up a chair, sat down and crossed an ankle over the opposite knee. He slouched back and laced his fingers behind his head. “I’m not happy Axyl Hargrave changed the drop without consulting me first. I haven’t quite made up my mind if Tru and the object you’re holding are connected, but my gut tells me it’s a distinct possibility. Regardless, I’ve taken the job of getting it to Dendera Labs for Geotern and I’ve plenty of credits riding on doing just that.”

Seth stopped bouncing the pouch and set it back on the console. He leaned back, stretched out his long legs and grinned. “So, boss man, what do you plan on doing about Tru Creighton?”

“Damned if I know.” Nick rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess it all depends on what she tells me. So far she hasn’t been real forthcoming about what happened on Lodestone.”

“She’s in trouble, huh?” Callen didn’t raise his eyes from the console pad on which he tapped. As usual, his focus remained on searching along another path of information.

“She was certainly running scared. Whatever she’s involved with frightened her enough to follow me back to my ship in hopes of persuading me to take her with me.” Nick scratched his whiskered jaw.

“It got her off-world though, didn’t it?” Seth said.

“Yeah, I guess. The problem is, if she recognized me then someone else might have as well. It could explain how our names got connected. Damn it, the trip was supposed to be a quick in and out without any fanfare. Only the head of Geotern knew the day I planned to be there and he was invested in keeping it quiet. Hell, I even dressed like a friggin’ transport pilot to blend in.”

Seth snorted and shook his head. Even Callen stopped working to stare.

“What?” Nick snapped, daring either of them to say anything. When they suddenly became interested elsewhere, he grinned. Sometimes it was good to be the boss.

He stood, grabbed his chair and spun it back in place. He had too much to do to spend time in idle speculation about Tru. There was the small matter of the package delivery. It had priority above his own curiosity.

Idly, he scratched his jaw, felt the rough stubble on his face and grimaced at the dirt under his fingernails. His beard annoyed him and the grit left over from Lodestone irritated places it shouldn’t have reached. Standing under a shower was just what he needed to wash away some of his annoyance from this trip.

As he sauntered out of the hidden room, he made sure the panel slid back into place behind him. He crossed through the front office and headed toward the stairs. He took them two at a time, and reached the top without being out of breath. Long strides took him to his suite of rooms at the opposite end of the hallway from Tru. Shutting his bedroom door, he took a deep breath and allowed some of the cares of the day to drop away.

A place to belong was important to him, as with the others. His home was his sanctuary. Losing everything that mattered to him after Tonlith’s destruction had been a blow he’d never gotten over. After the disastrous final battle, he’d drifted from one world to the next, never satisfied, always restless. Angry. Disillusioned.

By sheer accident he’d discovered Seth in the middle of a bar fight, outnumbered, bloody and refusing to quit. Nick had been amazed the man had any fight left in him, but he had no interest in getting involved. About to turn away, he’d stopped dead in his tracks when he heard the man taunting his attackers in a language he never thought to hear again. It had snapped his attention back to the man.

Nick hadn’t heard Tonlithian spoken in at least a year. A long, barren year. It was reason enough to wade into the brawl and help the other man. Maybe a good fight was just what he’d needed after all and hearing his native language soothed his battered soul. Introductions would wait.

After it was over, the two were barely standing. The same couldn’t be said for their opponents.

A seedy bar, in a rough and tumble town on the world Euphonie, had been the last place Nick ever thought he’d find a fellow exile. For the first time he’d allowed himself to consider if they had survived impossible odds, then maybe others had too. It ignited a spark in both men and laid the groundwork for a strong friendship. Eventually, they found Wulf and then Callen. Theirs was a bond forged from the fires of war and the consequences, which had cast them adrift. Something none of them would ever forget.

When the idea for Rayven Security was born, they agreed on the planet Alludra as their base. The surrounding land was close enough to what they remembered of Tonlith to bring them all a measure of comfort. It was a start.

Shaking off his memories, Nick shed his clothing as he headed for the rain shower. The hot water was a welcome relief as it flowed over taut muscles and sloughed off the gritty dirt clinging to him. Closing his eyes, he placed his hands on the tiled wall in front of him and bowed his head, letting the water run in rivulets down his skin. His mind buzzed with unanswered questions and most of them seemed to lead back to Tru. Every time she got near, his body reacted, leaving him in a semi-aroused state, and it was playing hell with his nerves. The first time she raised those incredible blue eyes to his had been like a punch to his solar plexus and left him scrambling to form a coherent thought. That jolt, that sizzle of bone deep awareness hadn’t stopped since, if anything it had gotten worse. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so affected by a woman.

Growling, he slapped the wall and firmly pushed the images of Tru out of his mind. He had a job to do and he was not going to let hormones get in his way. What he needed was a quick trip to the pleasure houses in Glendoran to take care of his sexual needs. Maybe then, he could ignore the attraction heating his blood whenever she was around. A simple solution and one he needed to find time for.

The water had long since cooled before Nick shut it off. He grabbed a drying cloth draped it low on his hips and secured it with a quick fold. Moisture hung heavy in the air, and he wiped condensation off the sink mirror, getting a good look at himself in the process. Deciding there wasn’t much he could do about his looks other than shave off the whiskers wasn’t much comfort. His face looked lived-in, hard and unforgiving. The scar dissecting his eyebrow was a constant reminder of things he would rather forget. He’d been lucky the shrapnel hadn’t cut his eye. He had learned to live with his past, had found a reason to keep living, but it had been hard won and it showed.

A droplet of water from his wet hair dripped onto his chest and traced a meandering path from his collarbone to the tattoo over his heart. Nick brushed the artistically scrolled letters, removing the water. The men in his unit had each sported the same tattoo design after a memorable shore leave. Reaching for his shaver, he ignored the flash of grief and concentrated on getting rid of the stubble on his face.

Chapter 6

Tru did her best not to tug at the hem of the large shirt she wore. To get a better fit, she fastened her wide leather belt loosely over her hips. It added some definition to the material, but the fact remained this was a man’s clothing and dwarfed her smaller frame. She debated putting her jacket on over the shirt, but it was filthy and she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The drawstring pants Seth supplied were impossible to keep up and too easy to trip over, even if she wore the scuffed and oversized boots she’d arrived in to give her added height. After a serious internal debate, Tru opted not to wear them and risk falling in an embarrassing heap when she walked.

Dressed in an acceptable manner, the shirt covering her from neck to knees, she still felt exposed and vulnerable. She shoved a long sleeve up past her elbow but it slid down to cover her hand again. Unsure of what to do next, she perched on a chair in the bedroom and tried to ignore the butterflies dancing in her stomach.

What did she know about Nick Rayven other than what she’d learned through research? If she were going to be being honest with herself, she would have to admit her imagination had cast Nick in the same mold as many of the men she knew. Urbane. Successful. Sophisticated.

After spending a brief time with him, she understood her naive assessment bore little resemblance to the man himself. He was tough, commanding and impatient, but he also made her knees go weak when he looked at her and had shown kindness when she was the most in need of it. He was everything she hadn’t known she wanted, until she met him.

Still, she was stranded on an unfamiliar planet and in the company of a man she knew almost nothing about. Granted, he’d been polite and considerate of her well-being, but he could also have been plotting to hold her for ransom, for all she knew. Her family was well known for its wealth and payoff demands were not unheard of among the more affluent families on her world. It gave her pause. Attraction aside, she needed to be cautious.

An overactive imagination had led her into trouble more times than she could count, and once the idea of ransom demands took hold, she couldn’t shake it. One horrible scenario after another whirled through her mind. Tying herself in knots, she took a steadying breath and stopped her train of thought. She jumped up and paced the bedroom telling herself nothing could be solved while she hid in the bedroom. She needed to see Nick. Firming her jaw, she straightened her makeshift outfit and marched out the door before her courage deserted her.

Barefoot, she glided down the stairs, keeping a sharp eye out for another person. It was quiet in the house. Where was everyone? She reached the bottom of the stairs and stood with one hand resting on the banister. Her bare feet curled against the cool tile and she bit her bottom lip. Maybe she should just go back to her room?

“Is everything all right?” Callen asked.

Tru let out a yelp, lost her balance and plopped on the bottom stair. Pressing a hand to her pounding heart, she stared wide-eyed at the man standing a few paces away.

“Don’t do that,” she squeaked. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

He offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

One lock of ash brown hair fell across his wide forehead. At first glance, he looked harmless, almost boyish, but the cool gray of his eyes held none of the amusement curving his lips.

“You’re Callen, right?”

Thoughts she’d allowed to haunt her upstairs rushed back and it took effort to push them away. If she’d learned one thing from her grandfather, it was never to show fear.

“Yes.”

“I must say you move very quietly. I didn’t hear you at all.”

“If you follow me I’ll escort you to a sitting room where you can be comfortable while you wait for Nick.”

He moved away, seeming confident she would follow. Tru debated staying where she was to see what he would do, but then decided it didn’t matter. She watched his retreating back and had the distinct impression there was more to Callen Bluestone than met the eye. There was something about his enigmatic demeanor making her cautious, although she didn’t feel threatened in any way. With a shrug, she followed him to a set of double doors just past the entry.

He held the door open and waited for her to pass, and she sailed through the doors with a regal tilt to her chin, ignoring the amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. He followed her into the room. He may have startled her, but she refused to be intimidated. He indicated she should sit on a plush couch positioned against one wall.

Tru held his gaze and ignored the couch to sit in a chair flanking the stone fireplace. She sat on the edge, feet side by side on the floor with her hands folded on her lap. She lifted her chin and looked around, doing her best to look confident and self-assured. She could feel heat climbing her cheeks when she caught his knowing smile. She knew he saw right through her and it took some of the starch out of her. Subdued, she scooted back in the chair and lounged against the padded leather.

“Have you lived here long?” She asked.

“No, I haven’t.”

He wasn’t being rude as far as she could tell, just uncommunicative. Not one to give up, she searched for another conversational gambit. “How long have you worked for Nick?”

“Not long.”

He wasn’t going to satisfy her curiosity. She’d been raised from the cradle to handle any social situation presented, but Callen was more of a challenge than she felt up to dealing with at the moment. She watched him move to one of the viewscreen windows beside the fireplace to gaze outside. Vexed by his reserve, she slumped further in her chair and twirled one of her curls around her finger.

“Not much of a talker, are you?”

“I’ve never seen the point of small talk,” he remarked. “Please don’t take it personally, but I would prefer we wait for Nick.”

As soon as Nick entered the room, she felt immediate relief. If she hadn’t been paying attention, she might have missed the almost imperceptible falter in his step before it smoothed out again. She had no idea why a stunned look had flashed across his face before he smoothed his features into a bland expression.