Shadower (36 page)

A hand closed over her shoulder. "I'm sorry about Kiah."

Pain wrenched through her. "Go away." Tears burned her eyelids. "Get out," she gasped, but then the dam burst.

He turned her into him, cradling her head against his chest. She beat at him weakly, but he simply tightened his arms around her. "Don't fight it, Moriah."

"It's you I'm fighting," she bit out, trying to halt the flood.

"Then stop fighting me." He stroked her hair, and she was lost. Her grief rushed out in a torrent of tears. She sobbed against him, as he held her and soothed her with nonsensical murmurings, his voice pitched low against her ear.

The storm of her grief and pain finally spent, she leaned against his strength, her legs too weak to support her. She realized she was clutching the front of his flightsuit. Spirit, he felt good, warm and solid. No one else had ever offered her comfort, held her through dark moments.

But he was a shadower. Damn him to the Abyss! Why couldn't he leave her alone? Why couldn't he be cold and uncaring, like every other man in her life?

"Not everything is what it appears," he said quietly. "You've never given me a chance to explain. I wish you would listen to me."

She hesitated, torn between the increasing evidence exonerating him and her personal experiences. She didn't think she could stand it if he lied to her now. "How can I know you'll tell me the truth?"

"Just hear me out. I think you owe me that much."

How could she object? He'd saved her and Lionia from Galen; had killed Pax, sacrificing his revered ship in the process. She did owe him. She nodded, staring at his chest. Grasping her chin, he tipped up her face.

"You know I'm a Shielder. You've seen firsthand how the Controllers deal with us. We've been forced to flee to the outer reaches of the quadrant. To barely exist on barren moons and planets. We have no natural resources, no way to survive.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. Twelve seasons ago, I made a commitment to do everything I could for my people. I was commissioned as a shadower for the Controllers. But I vowed to myself I would never hunt innocent citizens, or even minor criminals. I track only the most vicious and hardened felons. I hate turning over anyone for execution, but these criminals are preying on others and deserve to die. I've given all my bounty earnings, except those I used to purchase the Skymaster, to Shielder colonies."

He paused, gently stroking his thumb over her cheeks to wipe away her tears. The tenderness of his action sent warmth chasing the chill in her body. "I don't like what I do, but it's a necessary evil," he said quietly. "I rid the quadrant of ruthless predators, and my people gain a chance to survive. I'm not ashamed of the choices I've made. And I'm not like your father or Pax. Please believe me."

The power of his words reverberated through her. His sincerity flowed into her heart; the plea in his eyes touched her soul. She did believe him. Realization seeped past her exhausted defenses, past her stubborn hold on her perceptions about men, shadowers in particular.

Shadower.
It was simply a label, a term for someone who worked for the Controllers and tracked felons. The label didn't necessarily encompass the morals, the values, or the actions of the person who bore it. In reality, the label meant nothing.

It was the heart and the soul of a person that demonstrated true merit. Just as she had looked past her women's physical appearance and emotional handicaps, taking them into her circle because they were good people, she should have looked past Sabin's label. Should have judged him by his actions. Celie had told her as much.

She studied his face. It was a face defined by character; darkened with one cycle's beard growth, laugh lines around the eyes, worry and concern creating a furrow between his dark brows. She couldn't help herself; she reached up and smoothed away his worry. Chemistry sparked between them, potent, electrifying.

Heat flamed in his eyes, and he leaned toward her. She stretched upward, anticipating, welcoming his mouth on hers. She savored the feel of his hands sliding through her hair, shaking it loose, then possessively cradling her head; welcomed his tongue into her mouth, the taste, the feel. Desire and need awakened with a fury.

Groaning, Sabin tore his mouth free. He released her and backed away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

She couldn't quite focus, not with her body in such an uproar. "Why?"

He raked his hands through his hair. "You don't need me pawing at you after all you've been through, with Pax, with Kiah—"He threw up his hands in a frustrated gesture.

His consideration wrapped around her heart, while his mention of Pax brought a new flash of insight. Seeing Pax again
had
thrown her into a tailspin, resurrected hideous memories, and brought back the nightmares these past three nights. Yet…Sabin's touch did not repulse her. Instead, she craved it, like a drug addict craved the powder from an Elysian starflower.

Elation rushed through her as she realized what her reaction to Sabin signified.
She could overcome her demons.
The choice was hers. If she let her basic distrust of men keep her from acknowledging her feelings for Sabin, then Pax and her father would have won. But as long as she refused to cater to the memories, as long as she refused to allow her experiences to warp her, they would never have the victory.

In that moment, she chose.
To win.

"I know now that you're not Pax, and you're not my father," she said slowly. "I realize you're nothing like either of them, even if you are a shadower."

Sabin watched her intently. "What are you saying?"

She wanted to tell him how she felt. But he had no reason to trust her, not after everything she'd done. From his viewpoint, he'd be a fool to believe anything she told him. "My actions around you haven't been very exemplary. You probably think I'm dishonorable, cold, uncaring."

He shook his head. "No, I don't think that at all."

"How could you believe otherwise?"

"Moriah, I realize the things you did were acts of desperation. You had good reason to be upset when you discovered I was a shadower. And you are very caring. I've seen you with Celie. I saw how you held that boy on Nissar and calmed him. I watched you mourn for Kiah."

He paused, his warm expression melting her. "I've held you in my arms, seen you in the throes of passion. You're definitely not cold. We've had some bad experiences between us, but we've also shared a lot of good things. I want us to focus on the good experiences."

She struggled to assimilate what he was saying, struggled to accept what he offered so freely. After all she'd done to him, after all he'd lost because of her, he was gifting her with understanding and forgiveness. She had underestimated him on so many levels; sadly misjudged the true measure of this man, and his ability to see into her soul. She'd be a fool to let him slip away.

She suddenly felt liberated, unfettered by fear and doubt. Her heart soared and hurtled into free flight, urging her to take a chance, to reach for the stars. She took the plunge. "I love you, Sabin Travers."

A stunned expression flashed on his face. "What did you say?"

She'd come this far; she never backed down once negotiations were opened. She stepped forward, grabbed the front of his flightsuit, and pulled him closer. "You heard what I said, Travers."

"I—I think I'd like to hear it again."

"What I'd like," she murmured near his ear, "is for you to take me to bed and make me forget Pax Blacklock ever existed."

His eyes flared, and his body stiffened. His hands framed her face. "I find it hard to believe our conversation brought this on. You hated my guts up until about five minutes ago."

"I never hated you. I hated what you represented," she told him earnestly. "I was letting the past taint my life. But you helped clear the path. Pax can never bother me again. I refuse to give any more power to the past. Only the future."

Myriad emotions swept through his eyes. He stroked her cheek, then dropped his hand lightly over her breast. "My touch doesn't bother you? Doesn't remind you of what Pax did?"

His touch was enough to send her heart racing and her breast aching for more. She placed her hand over his and pressed it closer. "Yes, it bothers me. It makes me hot and bothered and wanting you. Mate with me, Sabin."

His body responded instantly, springing to life against her abdomen. Desire molded his face into sharp angles. "Take off your flightsuit," he ordered.

His husky command made her heart pound even faster. She wondered if her rib cage could hold up under the strain. Stepping back, she undressed with shaking fingers. He watched every move, his searing perusal sending molten lava through her veins.

"What about your clothing?" she challenged, when her boots and flightsuit had been shed.

He didn't look up, his attention on her body. "What about it?"

"Take it off, Travers." She went to him, tugging impatiently at his flightsuit. He had other ideas, like kissing her and caressing her breasts. By the time she got him undressed, she was almost delirious with desire.

Trapping her against him, he commandeered her mouth. She gave herself over to him, body and soul. He fanned the flames expertly, stretching her out on the bunk, sweeping his hands over her. "Tell me again what you said earlier," he murmured, his lips tracing her curves, moving lower.

Moriah couldn't think straight, much less utter love words. Words he hadn't returned. "Maybe I don't want to repeat it," she gasped as he kissed her abdomen.

"Oh, I'll make you say it again." He spread her legs and slid his tongue along her thigh, coming precariously close to—

"Sabin!"

He looked up, flashed his devil's smile. "And again."

He lowered his head and kissed her intimately.
Oh, Spirit!
She twisted beneath him, shocked and stunned and…burning. He was merciless, holding her down while he teased and tasted. He hurled her over the precipice, and she shattered into a thousand starbursts.

She was still reeling when he began his seduction anew, flowing up her body like melted caroba. He didn't allow her to drift down, but hurled her back into the inferno. She retaliated, touching and kissing the hard planes of his body, tantalizing and teasing, until his need was as great as hers. When he urged her to slide over him, she resisted. "No. I want you on top this time."

He touched her face, his eyes searching. "Are you sure?"

She loved him, trusted him totally. "Yes."

He covered her, slid into her gently. She didn't feel any panic. Having Sabin over her, inside her, felt so good, so right.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She looked into his ebony eyes, so beautiful and caring. "I've never been better."

"I love you," he said softly.

Emotion swelled, filling her heart until she thought it might burst. This was the way it should be between a man and a woman. Give and take. Love and respect.

Sabin moved against her, slow sure strokes that left her gasping. "Stay with me, sweetheart. We're going to the sun." He proceeded to take her breath away with a possession so hot and fierce, her sun went nova.

Much later, she stretched languorously against him, levering up to press a kiss against his lips. He groaned. "Sorry, sweetheart, I couldn't possibly do it again."

"Weakling," she teased.

"You're insatiable," he growled, rolling and pinning her beneath him. He kissed her, then rested his forehead against hers. "There is something you can tell me, though. Something I've been wondering about."

"What's that?"

"That night in your cabin. I have vague memories of you naked, but that's about it. What
really
happened?"

Moriah smiled slowly, fully confident in her feminine power. Should she tell him? Or keep him guessing? She slid her hand behind his head, urging him down. "Well, it's like this…" She proceeded to whisper a sultry, suggestive tale into his ear. Truth or fiction? He would never know for sure. But there was one thing she intended him to know with absolute certainty.

That she loved him.

It was a perfect day for a wedding. A small breeze had kicked up, keeping the temperature bearable. Wispy clouds drifted across a vivid turquoise sky, filtering the intense sun's rays. Sabin and Moriah stood on the embankment of a modest crater that would eventually be a full-fledged lake.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked proudly. Already, water flowed up from the underground aquifer, through pipes that had been placed yesterday.

"It's magnificent. When can I go fishing?"

She punched his arm playfully. "You don't have time to fish, Travers. You get today off, but then it's back to work for you."

"You're such a slave driver," Sabin complained. But he'd gladly be her slave anytime.

Moriah lifted her face to the sunshine and inhaled the fresh air. She looked stunning in a simple sleeveless gold tunic, with matching leggings that lovingly hugged her shapely legs. He placed a possessive hand over the nape of her neck. "You know I like your hair down."

"It's too hot to wear it that way." She flashed the smile that always sent his pulse racing. "But you can take it down later."

"Sweetheart, if you can't tolerate
this
heat, you're going to be in serious trouble tonight."

"I think I can handle it," she teased, leaning over to steal a quick kiss. She pulled back before he could deepen the contact, much to his disappointment. She looked him over, radiating pure feminine appreciation. His blood warmed several hundred degrees. "You look very handsome in that tunic," she told him.

Janaye had insisted on making him a new tunic and pants for the wedding. Roanne, who had been a slave in a textile facility, declared solid black silk too severe. She'd spent hours embroidering silver thread into intricate patterns through the shoulders and sleeves.

Sabin had felt uncomfortable with the women fussing over him, but resigned himself. When he'd arrived on Risa, he'd been careful to act nonthreatening. The ladies had been leery and cautious at first, but once they realized he was a permanent part of the colony, that he wouldn't hurt them, they accepted him. Now they seemed at ease around him.