Captive of Pleasure; the Space Pirate's Woman (The LodeStar Series) (24 page)

The woman drew an outraged breath. “Are you saying my ass is big?”

“No,” Zaë said, her cheeks flushing with discomfort as she saw they’d drawn the notice of the other women, who were now crowded around, watching avidly. “I merely pointed out—”

The woman drew back her arm and struck at Zaë.

Instinctively, Zaë ducked back. Then her body moved, as if of its own volition. A part of her watched in shock as she grasped the woman’s arm and turned, using the woman’s own weight to flip her onto her face in the midst of a rack of underthings.
 

Letting go, Zaë stared down at her foe. She had done that? A spurt of triumph warmed her. She
had
done that—and it had felt good. Very good. She knew self-defense.

Someone gasped. The other women stared.

“Goddess,” a voice cried in her ear. “That. Was.
Stellar!
” It was the beautiful male Zaë had seen at the campfire. His eyes bright with mirth, he waved at Zaë although he made no attempt to touch her. “Honey, I’m Dano, and I’ve been waiting a long time to see someone take Fee down a notch or two.”

“Quarking bitch!” The blonde shoved herself up out of the clothing, a lacy bra hanging from one of her ornate earrings. She glared at Zaë around it. “I’ll snatch you bald. No one pushes me around.”

Dano slid between the two women, one hand on the blonde’s chest above her quivering cleavage. “Oh, cut the shit, Fee. See the collar? She’s under Stark’s protection. He may fuck you when he can’t find anyplace else to put it, but that doesn’t mean he’ll let you mess with his
guest
.”

The woman’s face contorted in a sneer. She grabbed the bra and threw it down, then tossed her head. “She’s not worth messing with. He has her in his tont, but he’s not letting her have what I get.”

She waved the panties at Zaë in triumph, and then stalked away. Two other women followed her.
 

The others stayed where they were. Zaë watched them cautiously. Would they be angry with her? But Ringi moved into the group and slid an arm around Zaë’s waist. “Hey, everyone. This is Zaë.”

One of the women grinned back, another nodded and the third looked her over and smiled to herself.
 

“We’ll get together tomorrow,” Ringi said. “My tont.”

Surprised and pleased, Zaë thanked her.

“And maybe you can teach us some moves,” Dano teased.
 

Zaë tried to smile back at him. She had no idea if she had any more ‘moves’ or even where she’d learned that one.
 

“Meanwhile,” he added. “Watch out for Fee. She’s jealous and she’s not smart enough to listen to me, so ...”

Zaë kept her eyes open, but although she saw Fee and her two friends from a distance several times, the woman didn’t approach her. Zaë left the transport with three new pair of panties, a new bra, another pair of leggings and sleeveless tunic in a soft swirling blue pattern, and even some sandals. They were low-heeled but very flattering with their narrow straps. She also chose a soft pink nightgown, and a kimono with delicate flowers painted on the lii silk.
 

She loved her new things. They were light, comfortable and informal, and she had the very strong impression this was a novelty, like the ensemble she was wearing. They were revealing, yes, but she liked her body, so why shouldn’t she wear clothing that revealed as much as she wished? The other women here did, and no one frowned disapprovingly. The men certainly liked it.

With her new things tucked in her bag, she wandered through the rest of the stores, sampling fruit and choosing a package of nut crispies and one of chocolate truffles. She ate one of the truffles at once, stopping in her tracks to savor the rich chocolate melting on her tongue.She liked shopping.

She showed Nera the crate of cooking spices, but the woman shrugged her disinterest, so Zaë chose some on her own. Pepper, cinnamon and herbs would be good to flavor the foods Nera prepared. She could wait till the woman went home to her own tont, and then add a bit to the simple fare. She was, she realized, very particular about what she ate. Stark seemed to just eat whatever was placed in front of him.

Nera settled into haggling over the price of coffee beans, and Zaë wandered on to see what was in the next transport. She liked shopping.

Chapter 15

Joran was not happy. His crew recognized this immediately he neared the transports. One of them, headed toward him with a smile and her hand in the air, suddenly veered to her right, pretending interest in another crew member. A burly warrior on guard duty on his hovercycle above the camp, froze with hand in mid-wave. He hit the controls, zipping the cart higher above the camp, and resumed his watch thru his holovision goggles.

The target of his anger was not so wise. She continued her saunter through the crowd, mawwr on her shoulder, her long hair slipping loose from her braid to flip in the breeze, one hand lifted to wave at Pede, sitting his catamount pony and waiting for his leader. She carried over her shoulder an embroidered bag, bulging with purchases.

Pede lifted his chin to her, but then sat still, stoic, his gaze tracking Joran’s approach.

Joran saw the exact instant she became aware of his presence. Her shoulders stiffened and she stopped in her tracks. He did not, striding toward her, his boots thudding in the dirt.

She turned, just as he reached her. Her eyes widened as she took in his expression. She took half a step back, but he reached her, grasped her by the wrist and pulled her to him. Her soft, curving body collided with his hard frame and her head went back as she kept her eyes on him, curls blowing across her face, one sticking on her plump, moist lower lip.

“What is wrong?” she asked.

“Do you think,” he asked in a low voice. “that you might have the courtesy to inform someone before wandering off on your own like a complete immi? Nera’s been worried about you, beside herself with guilt because she let you slip away. Me? I’m just quarking angry that my work has been delayed to search for you!”

Her face flushed, and she bit her lip, her arching brows drawing together. “But, there are only three transports, and I just walked away for a little while—”

“Awhile is all you need to get in trouble, apparently.You’ve no more sense than a baby deerbbit. Yeah, there’re only three transports, but I don’t know everyone on them. Hells, I sent you shopping, didn’t I? Thought women loved to shop, thought it would keep you out of trouble.”

She prissed her lips. “I do enjoy shopping, but…not with stolen credit.” She gave him a look that said he couldn’t argue with that.

The hells he couldn’t. Joran opened his mouth to inform her any credit he stole was only from other pirates, and then gritted his teeth. He was quarked if he’d explain himself to her.

“Whatever. So from now on, you’ll have an escort. A keeper, since you like to put it that way.”
 

Yeah, there were only three transports, but that was like saying there was only one prairie and one river out there. She wandered off, she’d get into trouble faster than he could get to her. All it would take was one catamount, one gyre hawk or one pirate not from his band.

Next time, he was using the collar to rein her in. Let her see how she liked that.
 

He let go of her and she put a hand on his arm. “Oh, no. You don’t have to do have someone escort me. I don’t want to take one of your crew away from their duties. I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

“I know you will,” he said, and smirked. He beckoned with one hand. “Wega will see to it.”
 

The Occulan had fallen from her hovercycle when a gust of wind over a clifftop buffeted the craft, and injured her shoulder. Riley had put her through the regen but, still not satisfied, had given her strict instructions to rest for a few days, and bound her arm in a sling.

Zaë’s face fell. “No!”

Then Wega stopped at her elbow, scowling as usual and Zaë stopped talking. She stood there, staring at a point somewhere past Joran, looking miserable as a motion-sick immi.

“Keep her out of trouble,” Joran instructed the stout female.

“You can count on it,” Wega said.

Joran beckoned to Pede, who brought the ponies over. As Joran mounted up, he heard a musical giggle. He saw Fee and two friends, both of whom he’d had but hadn’t gone back for more, lounging in the shade, watching with glee. Fee gave him an intimate smile.

Joran glanced back at Zaë, not knowing what he expected, but not what he got. All penitence gone, she glared from the women to him, and then turned her back on him. His hands tightened on the reins, anger heating his gut at this blatant rudeness. He chucked to his mount, and the beast snorted and dashed to the few steps to Zaë, turning tightly to herd her backward.

She stumbled back with a gasp, mouth open, eyes now wide with a tinge of fear.

“You insult me in front of my people?” he said, just loud enough for her to hear. “You may beg my pardon—loud enough for everyone to hear, or spend the rest of the day somewhere safe, like an empty cata pen.”

For an instant, hurt and then fury blazed, turning her eyes to blue fire. He was startled by the show of spirit and even more shocked by what she did next.
 

Her long lashes veiling her eyes, she clasped her hands before her and bowed her head in a ceremonial bow, then straightened, her gaze cast down, face expressionless.
 

“I am sorry, oh great Zhazid, for your lowly servant’s impertinence,” she called, her voice ringing as if she were on a stage. “My master knows best. He is so great and powerful, surely even the sun basks in his presence.”

Joran didn’t know whether to laugh or sweep her onto his pony, ass up, and spank her right there. Perfect obedience, and yet underneath her anger burned as hot as the sun on his back.
 

He grinned down at her. “That’s more like it. Now why don’t you spend the afternoon staying out of trouble?”

Wega rolled several of her eyes but nodded, to show this would happen.

Good. Not that he was going to take the sex any further with Zaë, but he liked the feminine wariness blossoming in those big blue eyes. He enjoyed teasing her, was all. She had a feisty side to her that he liked to bring out.
 

Even bunnies were dangerous in a corner, their big back feet laden with strong claws for digging. His Zaë was starting to show her claws, and that was good. She’d need them when she left here.

Joran wheeled his pony and rode out of camp, grinning to himself at the last sight he had of her. Standing there like a disgruntled princess, Wega looming at her side. She wouldn’t have a fun afternoon, but she’d stay where she was supposed to be—safe.

Outside the camp, Var caught up with him, and they rode side by side along the river.

“You afraid your rescue’s gonna disappear?” Var asked.

Joran grunted. “Already happened to her once, didn’t it? She’s as feckless as a desert bunny tossed out in a city.”

Var said nothing more, but Joran looked over to see the big man grinning.
 

Joran moved his shoulders restlessly, and the cata danced sideways under him, picking up on his tension. He held his seat, and reined his mount back in with the ease of long practice.

Okay, maybe he had over-reacted a bit. But she was vulnerable, and he was responsible for her safety until he passed her off.And now he’d wasted enough time on her.

“Any more sign of that craft?” he asked. One of the patrols had seen a strange craft moving through the rocks that rimmed the valley below where it narrowed into a canyon. They hadn’t been able to make out its method of locomotion, just that it moved through the rocks with ease and precision, more like a creature than a vehicle.

“No,” Var said in his bass rumble. “Could be a drone, you reckon?”

Joran grunted noncommittally. “We’ll look for tracks of some kind, then I want the sliders to patrol that area non-stop for the next few days. Whatever it is, we’ll find it.”

“Then see if we want to destroy it or steal it,” Var added, and grinned, his broad face creasing in lines that said he did so often.

Joran nodded. The catamount ponies, surefooted and tireless, reached the canyon a short time later. They loosed a pair of spybots, and the small winged orbs zipped away over the rocks to see what lay ahead.

Keeping one eye on the readouts on their comlinks, Joran and Var picked their way through the big boulders, some of them as large as a tont, which lay where they’d broken from the rim of the high canyon in some cataclysmic event. Joran startled up several rockrats, a few deerbitt and even a juvenile gyre hawk, talons and beak bloody with a kill. Thanks to the spybot, he was not startled by the encounters, although his cata didn’t like it.
 

The hawk screamed its displeasure at having a meal interrupted, then took off, mighty wings flapping as it carried away the remains of a small deerbitt. Joran watched it, calming his nervous pony with a low croon. A full-grown gyre hawk had a wingspan longer than a man’s height, and beak and talons like cutters. Thus, had it been an adult, he would have retreated immediately, but juveniles were generally not as aggressive.