Shadower (28 page)

She also experienced a deep sense of bonding with Sabin, along with gratitude, and some deeper emotions she didn't want to face. So many feelings, positive yet overwhelming in their intensity. Hot tears overflowed and tracked down her cheeks, despite her effort to keep them contained.

"Ah, sweetheart." He shifted and cradled her face in his hands. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. Of course not." He certainly had to know she had enjoyed it. She'd held back nothing from him. Mortified now, she tried to break free of his grasp, hating for him to see this unusual weakness. She never cried.

Stubborn male that he was, he wouldn't let her hide. "Then what is it?"

She clenched her eyes shut. "It's just that all these thoughts and feelings are jumbled up inside."

He relented and let her take refuge, and she burrowed against him. "I think I understand," he murmured, stroking her hair. "Kind of like an emotional meltdown."

Moriah relaxed, soothed by his touch and the comfort of his body. For the moment, she felt utterly safe. Here, in the security of Sabin's arms, the past, the Leors, all the concerns of being solely responsible for an entire colony, seemed very distant. She batted at the tears still seeping from beneath her closed lids. "I hate to be like this."

"Hey." He shifted again, leaned close. "It's okay to cry." His lips pressed against her eyelids, then followed the tracks of her tears. "I cried a lot after my family was murdered."

What other way could a young boy deal with such pain? She took his hand and held it tightly. He paused a moment, then fell back, rolling her against his side. "Only when I was alone, though. Shielders don't like to show emotion in front of others. I stayed in so many different homes, I never considered myself a part of any family. So I wouldn't show my feelings around anyone."

"How old were you when your family…when it happened?"

"Six seasons. Old enough to know what was going on, but too little to be of any use. I blamed myself for a long time. Thought I'd done something wrong, was being punished by having my family taken away."

Her heart ached for the suffering of a boy, for the pain still reflected in the man's voice. "How horrible for you."

He shrugged. "Others have suffered a lot worse. At least I didn't fall into the hands of slavers. Growing up, I had enough to eat and shelter from the elements. Now, I have this ship. Even though it's old and broken down, it's mine."

He lapsed into silence, and she suspected his thoughts traveled a disturbing path. It was odd how quickly they'd gone from high peaks of wild abandon back to bleak uncertainty. Damn the Controllers, and the Anteks and shadowers who worked for them. Power and greed were all they cared about. They were responsible for the rampant misery and suffering that seemed to rule everywhere.

As far as Moriah knew, the Shielders had never caused any problems. Their only crime was their ability to resist Controller mind domination. For that, they'd been driven from their homes, imprisoned, tortured, and murdered.

The Shielders weren't the only citizens suffering under Controller rule. The high taxes levied on all goods sold and wages earned made it nearly impossible for any average being to survive beyond a minimal existence. Only those providing illegal goods and services, or working directly for the Controllers, could recognize material gains.

With so many dependent on her, Moriah had been forced to enter the dangerous arena of smuggling to make ends meet. And she'd done quite well. But now, if she failed to get the iridon delivered…She wouldn't fail—she couldn't. But to ensure her success, she'd have to make sure Sabin didn't interfere. A deep weariness weighed upon her. At some point, she'd have to deal with what had just transpired between them, but she was too depleted to do so now.

"You're very quiet. What are you thinking about?" he asked.

She pushed herself up, brushing her hair away from her face. Staring down at him, into eyes as black and infinite as space, she felt an alarming surge of tenderness. She wanted to smooth the lines of grief and pain from his face, to run her fingers through the dark tangles of his hair. This would never do. She couldn't afford involvement with any man. Exhaustion was affecting her judgment. Distance and rest would restore clarity.

"I'm really tired," she said, scooting to the edge of the bunk. "We both need some sleep."

As she swung her legs off the bunk, a strong arm snaked around her waist and dragged her back. "Running away?" Sabin asked softly.

"What?" Indignant, she whirled around. "I never—"

He pulled her down, pinning her with his arm and a well-muscled leg. "I'll attribute your lack of manners to general ignorance of mating etiquette."

"Lack of manners?"
she screeched, pulling back her arm to slug him.

He grabbed her wrist with his other hand. She tried to jerk free, but his grip was like a steel vise. Then he had the nerve to grin at her like a Vilana banshee. "We still need to work on them."

Thoroughly irritated, she squirmed beneath him. "No, we do not. Let me up!"

"Moriah, Moriah," he sighed. He lowered his mouth and swirled his tongue over her earlobe. "Relax. Don't take everything so seriously."

She shivered, trying to ignore the sensations the moist heat stirred. "I'd never take you seriously, Travers. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go to my cabin now.

"Oh, but I do mind. You see, I get highly insulted when I have a beautiful, sexy bed partner who tries to bolt from my bunk."

She pulled back to glare at him, but the mischievous glint in his eyes diffused her indignation. As much as she hated to admit it, she found his roguish behavior charming. But she'd walk barefoot on scalding energy stones before she'd ever admit it to him. "I'm not bolting from your bunk," she retorted. "I'm exhausted, Travers. I need some rest."

"Oh, yeah?" he gloated, radiating pure male satisfaction. "Wonder how you got so tired?"

"I'm sure I don't know."

He laughed. Her heart considerably lighter, she felt the oppressive, negative energy of the day's events dissipating. Trying not to smile, she shoved against his chest. "Let me up."

"Stay with me tonight, Moriah." His voice turned serious, and he entwined his fingers with hers. "We're both worn out. I just want to hold you while we sleep."

It sounded so tempting. She knew only too well how dark the night hours could get, when all was quiet and there were no distractions to keep fears and doubts, loneliness and painful memories at bay. When there was nothing—or no one—to turn to for reassurance and comfort.

She also knew these moments with Sabin were just fleeting whirlwinds of time that would cease when they reached Elysia. Yet she wanted to hold them close. To savor them to the fullest.
Just for tonight,
she told herself. 
Just for tonight.

She allowed him to gather her against his side. Resting her head on his chest, she listened to the reassuring thud of his heart and his deep, even breathing. Cocooned in his warmth and quiet strength, she drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

She woke some time later, finding herself curled against Sabin. He lay sprawled on his back, one arm thrown behind his head, the other across his body. The auto lights hadn't turned on, so it was still sleep shift. Drowsy, she watched the rise and fall of his chest, remembering the passion they had shared, her surprising lack of modesty or restraint.

She stared at the strong hand resting against a washboard belly, lifting with each breath. Reaching out, she skimmed her fingers over his hand. How gently he had touched her, how sensuously. Her caress ventured across his powerful chest, tracing the swells of muscle beneath the taut skin. He was beautifully built, masculine and solid.

She felt fingers cupping her face. Sabin rolled to his side, his eyes locked with hers. Her heart stuttered. He didn't speak, but then he didn't have to. The current sparking between them communicated their mutual attraction far better than words.

She tilted up her face. His mouth descended on her lips, warm, firm, demanding. With a small sound of pleasure, she sank back on the mat, pulling him down and deepening the kiss. He shifted, looming over her, but not pressing on her.

His hand slid down her, slow, confident, devastating. All drowsiness vanished, her body awakening in a heated rush. How could mere touch render so much pleasure, she wondered, arching into his caresses. Her breasts swelled beneath his palm, the nipples coaxed into hard nubs by his knowledgeable fingers. Then he moved lower, and anticipation coiled inside her as his hand smoothed over her abdomen, through the auburn curls, finally claiming her most intimate, sensitive flesh.

She gasped, tearing her mouth from his. Breathing raggedly, she stared into his glittering eyes. "Are you sore?" he asked, his voice low and dark.

"I—I don't think so."

"Good." His finger probed, slipping inside her. "Do you want this, Moriah?" He stroked deeply. Heat and moisture pooled there as her body clenched around his finger. An unfamiliar wildness unleashed inside her, pulsing through her.

"What do you think?" she whispered. She did some touching of her own, exploring the hard planes of his chest and abdomen. Boldly, she wrapped her fingers around his erection.

"Spirit!" he gasped.

Amazed at the feel of him, she stroked him until he stopped her. Ignoring her protest, he entwined his fingers with hers and pressed their hands against the mat. "This is going way too fast," he murmured, lowering his face to press kisses down her neck. "I want to take it slow this time."

She shivered as his lips moved down her breast. "I don't…know if I can take it…slow." 

He laughed. "Let me know when you want me to stop, sweetheart. Until then, I'm all yours."

His mouth covered her nipple and she forgot about everything but the sensations inundating her body. And when he finally lay back on the bunk, allowing her to take control, she knew just what to do.

Moriah watched as Sabin replicated the morning meal. Odd how putting on clothing seemed to raise barriers. Their conversation had been stilted and awkward since they left his cabin. But in his bunk…there had been no holding back. She flushed, remembering her total abandonment. He had given her free rein, allowing her to guide their mating.

More importantly, he'd freed her from the chains of shame, from the clutches of Pax's degrading legacy. Even so, she had no delusions about a relationship between them. With her responsibilities, that would never be possible. She would always be grateful to him for helping her break free of the past, but she knew their paths must part after they reached Elysia.

As soon as their agreement was met, she must make arrangements to get the iridon—or lose her life. Surely Sabin understood the desperation spurring her to follow such a risky path. He'd told her he carried deliveries for the Controllers. Only an evil or very desperate person would have anything to do with them. Knowing him better now, she assumed he had good reasons for his actions. Besides, agents performed a variety of services for the Controllers that weren't necessarily bad—from acting as envoys to other cultures, to carrying supplies to distant outposts, to checking on colonies that had lost touch.

Sabin probably just delivered supplies. She suspected he worked for the Controllers to get money to aid Shielder colonies. As a Controller agent, he could travel freely throughout the quadrant that way, in relative safety. And unless they performed a special blood test, the Controllers would never know he was one of the very breed they despised. He was hiding out in the open.

Yet, despite her growing respect for him, despite her belief he had good reasons for his actions, she still wondered if she could truly trust him. She wanted to, but old doubts, long ingrained by bitter experience, made her cautious. Thus her main concern. She still didn't know what Sabin might do to interfere with the iridon delivery. Since he knew about it, she saw no sense in ignoring the issue. It was time to deal with it.

"I have to make that iridon pickup," she stated bluntly.

He pivoted around from the replicator. "It's too dangerous."

"It's far too late to worry about that. The deal is already arranged. It's not like this is the first time I've made a delivery to the Leors."

His eyes narrowing, he strode to the table. "Then you're a fool. Smuggling the usual contraband is dangerous enough. It's no business for a woman. Smuggling iridon or dealing with the Leors is incredibly risky. Doing both is downright insane."

"Being a woman has nothing to do with it," Moriah argued. "I can fight and pilot a ship as well as any man. And I can talk my way out of many situations a man couldn't."

"Dressed in your rhapha? What happens if you meet up with someone like Pax? Admit it. There are situations where brute strength counts."

He really knew how to hit her where it hurt. She rose from the chair and wheeled away from him. "Pax has nothing to do with this."

He cursed and caught her arm. "I didn't mean to throw that at you."

"Let me go!"

"Not until I talk some sense into that thick head of yours." He pulled her back to the chair. "Sit." She glared at him, and he threw up his hands. "All right. Stand then."

He ran his fingers through his hair. "I apologize for the comment about Pax. But I was trying to make a point. You are a good fighter, Moriah. You're smart and you're brave, but because you're a woman, you're at a physical disadvantage with most men."

She'd been at a physical disadvantage most of her life. She didn't need Sabin to point that out to her. "I have to do what is necessary to survive. If you want to talk about danger, consider what will happen if I
don't
make that delivery."

"I know. I have thought about it. As much as I hate it, I guess you'll have to follow through on the deal."

"Then you won't tell anyone about the iridon?"

He heaved a sigh, obviously not happy with the situation. "Probably not. Damn, I wish I could go with you. But I have to find Galen." His face hardened into the menacing mask of a predator. "He’s going to pay for his crimes."