Bonded (6 page)

“I haven’t. I have no intention of claiming any woman that way, ever again.” He wasn’t about to play the fool, the way he had for his ex-wife. Mistaking lust for something more. Something worth making permanent. “She’s still off-limits as part of the crew. You know the rules.”

“Some rules are made to be broken.”

“Enough, Dev. Don’t push it.” The
Marama
gave a hard shudder, as if the ship was also uncomfortable about returning to the atmosphere of Lorus. He flipped the switch to activate the landing gear and hit the reverse thrusters to further slow their descent. “Completing landing cycle. Touchdown in five seconds. Four…three…two…one.” He signaled the engineer’s station to power down the main engines, then swiveled in his chair toward Dev’s bridge station. “Gather the crew in the loading hatch. It’ll be quicker to disembark from there. I’m going to meet these officials and see if we can get this damn inspection underway as soon as possible.”

“You don’t want me to back you up?”

“I told you, I’m not expecting any trouble.”

“Still…”

“And put your weapons away. You know how this system feels about
civilians
carrying personal arms.”

“I know, Captain. I know.” Still grumbling, Dev pushed his massive bulk out of his chair and stepped through the doorway leading into the heart of the ship. The rest of the bridge crew followed close behind.

For a moment, Jaren was tempted to do the same. To return to his quarters and check on Taimi. Make sure Dev didn’t decide to break their fraternization rules. Taimi was too innocent of their ways to know about those.

No.

The officials were waiting, and he’d met with many of these self-important men in his travels throughout the universe. They all believed events ought to proceed on their timetables and theirs alone.

Jaren grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. It was the most official-looking piece of clothing he owned: a leftover from his brief stint in the Allied Military Space Services. He could do little about the rest of his clothing—rather rumpled from the day’s events—or his unruly hair that wouldn’t keep to a high standard of grooming without a great deal of effort.

He did a quick straightening of the thick strands. Smoothed his hands over his trousers in a futile gesture that only emphasized every wrinkle. Opened the main hatch from the bridge. They rarely used this exit, and the mechanism lowering the ramp to ground level showed a definite lag in its operations.

He walked at a deliberate pace—not wanting to appear hesitant in any way, yet taking time to assess the situation he was about to walk into. The officials looked agitated, but the soldiers were relatively relaxed, their weapons slung over their shoulders and not drawn. Always a good way to begin.

Jaren stopped in front of the man wearing the gaudiest, most heavily ornamented robes, assuming he was the one in charge. Calling on long-unused memories of Lorian traditions, he bowed at the waist before offering a greeting. “Good evening, gentlemen. I’m Captain Caradoc.”

“Captain.” The head official was much shorter than he, but gave the impression of looking down his nose. He didn’t bother to speak the universal tongue of trade, using his native Lorian language instead. He puffed up his chest, his tone full of bluster and pomp. “You seemed quite eager to leave us. Did you find your time here on Lorus unpleasant?”

Jaren waved aside the translator and switched to the language he wished he could forget. “I came here to take care of some very unpleasant
personal
business. Under the circumstances, it would be strange
to
linger.”

“Perhaps.” The man narrowed his eyes.

One of the other officials stepped forward. He was visibly younger, perhaps only a decade older than Jaren. His voice was a shade less pompous than his elder’s, though he also opted to keep to his native tongue. “I’m afraid we have some
unpleasant
business to take care of here, Captain. I’m sure you’ve been informed of the news.”

“Yes.”

The men stared at him, waiting for more. He couldn’t decide whether they’d already condemned him as guilty, or they expected him to have some sort of breakdown over the woman he’d once thought he loved, and who’d tried to kill him.

The younger official spoke again. “We understand returning in this manner is inconvenient for you and your crew, Captain. But considering your ties to the prisoner, we felt we had no choice.”

“How did she escape?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I assume you have a high degree of security at your prisons. Especially for prisoners convicted of attempted murder.” Jaren kept his voice neutral, so no one could say he was accusing them of negligence. Even though that was exactly what he suspected. “How did she manage to elude custody?”

“We’re not allowed to discuss the details.”

“Perhaps you could fill us in on the details, Captain.” The senior official was wearing that insufferable smirk again. “Obviously, you know Lady Ethlinda better than anyone else.”

“I wouldn’t say I knew her at all.” He hadn’t recognized the pure, cold greed behind the pretty face and amazingly sexy body. He’d only known the person she’d wanted him to know: the image she put on for public consumption. Not the real her.

“You were married for over two years.”

“And she tried to kill me after only two months. I’ve wanted to be free of her for some time.”

“We only have your word for that.”

Jaren gritted his teeth. Their attitude and assumptions were beginning to grate on his nerves. “If you check your court files, you can see the date I first filed to dissolve my marriage.”

“Perhaps.” The younger official muttered something to one of the guards, who bowed before running off. “But we can discuss that again another time, Captain. Right now, we need to talk about your ship.”

“My crew is vacating as we speak. You’ll have free access to every part of the ship. I have nothing to hide.”

“We’ll need to speak with them before they go anywhere.”

* * * *

Taimi buried her hands in the fabric of her skirt, fidgeting with the heavy folds. The needle, pins, and thread lay on the bed beside her. Still in their original packaging. After the unexpected announcement about their immediate return to Lorus and the government’s desire to inspect the ship, she had decided against starting the alterations. These were her only garments. They wouldn’t be comfortable to wear when full of pins.

There was a soft knock on the door.

Her heart leaped, and she laughed at her foolishness. Surely Jaren wouldn’t feel the need to knock. “Who is it?”

“Dev Geithin. Can I come in?”

She didn’t see any reason to refuse and thought it odd of him to ask. “Yes.”

The door slid open, and the first mate stepped forward, filling the hatch with his bulk. He was a giant of a man, not at all fat, and rather frightening with those big, beefy hands nearly as large as Taimi’s face. She swallowed hard. Remembered there was really nothing to fear. After all, Jaren trusted this man enough to make him his second in command. “Hello, Lieutenant.”

He gave her an arch look in response to her formality but didn’t correct her the way Jaren did. “Time to move out. Everyone is exiting through the cargo hatch so the inspectors can do their job.”

“I heard. I…I was just waiting for—”

“Jaren? He’s meeting with the greeting party Lorus sent for us.” Dev suddenly grinned, and the expression gave his dark features a completely different air. Reminiscent of a mischievous little boy, despite his size. Most of her irrational fear of the man subsided. “He sent me to make sure the crew clears out. Do you remember the way?”

“I’m a little turned around.” Taimi stood, shaking her skirt out to smooth any wrinkles. “And I haven’t seen the entire ship yet.”

“No problem. I can show you the way.”

“Thank you.” He shortened his strides, but it still took a near run to keep up. No wonder Jaren wanted her in trousers. Skirts were a disadvantage, especially with her short legs. Pants would be much more practical.

Once they were out of the ship, Dev left her to check on the rest of the crew. No one seemed inclined to talk to her, a few giving her looks bordering on hostile. Taimi retreated, hiding in the shadow of the
Marama’s
loading ramp.

This would be so much easier if Jaren was with her.

“Are you going to the festival?”

Taimi jumped.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” The speaker turned out to be the ship’s doctor. He appeared decades older than the rest of the crew, with a shock of pure white hair and kind eyes.

Taimi tried to collect her composure. As a medic, she would be working directly under this man, and it was important to make sure he saw her as useful and good. Perhaps that was why he was making an effort to talk to her when no one else seemed inclined. He might be testing her. She rifled through her memory for his name, but nothing came to her, so she focused on his question. “The festival?”

“I understand it’s a tradition here.” He waved one hand in the general direction of the others. The fluid ease of the gesture showed a man well versed in using his hands, as was to be expected of a trained surgeon. “All the young people have been begging Captain Caradoc for a chance to go.”

“He wasn’t going to allow it?”

“The captain intended this to be a brief trip, and the festival would be a distraction. Plus, with his past…”

Taimi wondered how much he knew. “I—”

“Enough gossiping, Doc,” Dev said. “We’re heading out.”

The men began walking toward the hangar exit. Taimi lagged behind, looking at the small crowd still standing in front of the ship. Though he stood behind several of the other men, Jaren might as well have been the only one in the structure.

Dev stopped midstride. “Taimi?”

“Sorry. I was just…”

He returned to her side. “I forgot to ask you. I was wondering if you’d do me the honor of escorting me to the festival.”

There was an odd note to his voice, and she looked up at him, startled. “I-I’m sorry.” Her face flushed at the sudden awkwardness of it all. “I don’t think that’s the right place for me, Lieutenant.”

He laughed. “I expected you to say that.”

“You did?” Off-worlders’ ways were strange. The lieutenant’s words and actions didn’t make the slightest bit of sense.

“The captain’s a lucky man.” He looked past her. “And I don’t think he knows it yet. Here he comes now.”

Jaren crossed the hangar in quick, long strides. The tense expression on his handsome face was far too familiar: his mouth drawn, deep furrows creasing his brow.

She wanted to soften that expression, to see him smile, but sensed this was neither the time nor the place. “Captain.”

He glanced at her. Turned to his first mate. “Hope everyone remembered to bring their ident cards with them. If not, they’ll have to return to their quarters. The inspectors want to manually verify every crew member’s identity.”

Taimi tugged on Jaren’s sleeve as the other man walked away. “I don’t have an ident card. I don’t even know what that is.”

“Don’t worry about it.” His mouth tightened again, and for a moment, he looked every bit as uncomfortable as he had been inside the auction house. “I’ve already shown them the necessary paperwork for you, since I still had it on me.”

“Thank you.” She glanced at the others, keeping his wishes in mind, but no one seemed to pay them the slightest bit of attention. They were busy with the inspectors.

She reached out and touched her trembling hand to the side of his face, letting the sharpness of his stubble scrape her skin. “Everything will be all right, Captain. You have nothing to hide.”

“I just didn’t plan on staying here this long.” His words remained terse, but he did manage a small smile.

It was a start and better than nothing. “The doctor said you gave the crew leave to go to the festival. Do you think the inspection will take that long?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had anything like this happen before.” His expression lightened again, just a fraction. “Never been in the habit of associating with convicts.”

Those words confirmed it: Lady Ethlinda’s escape was more than mere rumor.

Unbelievable. Most prisons were magic-proofed. And why had she waited until now? Surely her former mistress could have found a way out long ago. “I never said you were.” She glanced at the knot of frowning officials working through the rest of the crew. “They’ll probably want to talk to me.”

“No. They know you didn’t have anything to do with her escape.”

“They do?” As Ethlinda’s former body slave, she should have been first on their list of suspected accomplices. “How is that possible?”

“I reminded them of your testimony at her trial, for one thing. And your papers show you were still in the auction house until close to the estimated time of her escape. There was no way you could have helped her.”

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” He glanced back at the crew. Only a few men remained. “Looks like they’re almost done with my men. For the moment.”

“Will you be attending the festival with Lieutenant Geithin?”

“Absolutely not.”

The vehemence of his words startled her. She’d never heard of any man refusing the festival before. “Did I say something wrong, Captain?”

“No.” He smiled again, and this time, it seemed like a real smile. Soft and tender. He lifted one hand as if to touch her cheek, but then let it drop back to his side without making contact. “Did
you
wish to attend?”

She shook her head. “That’s not my place.”

“Place?” His brow furrowed, his smile as transient as it was beautiful. “Never mind. I’m not sure I want to know what you mean.”

“Captain?”

“Forget it. Let’s get out of here. I’ll arrange for you to have your own room at an inn.”

“That’s not necessary—”

“It is. Believe me, it is.”

Chapter Five

Jaren chose a guest resort far from the city center, hoping to distance himself from the crowds, the intoxication, and the magic of the festival.

Apparently, he had not gone far enough. “Only one room available?”