Hero (33 page)

"I thought they'd never leave," Micayla said. "Think they'll be back?"

"Who knows?" Trag replied. "My guess is that we've seen the last of them."

"I hope so--for tonight, anyway."

Trag leveled a chastising glare at her. "Mick, why didn't you tell me you didn't feel well?"

"Wasn't any point in it," she replied. "It wasn't like we'd have done anything differently."

"True, but next time you feel like crap, I'd appreciate it if you'd tell me."

Micayla wasn't in the mood for a lecture. Wiping the sweat from her eyes, she

said irritably, "What, so you can pick on me for being a weak female? Thank you, but I think I'll pass."

"Trust me, Mick, there's nothing weak about you. Matter-of-fact, I figured you'd be the one keeping me warm on this trip."

Since this was precisely what Micayla had assumed would happen, she didn't

argue the point. "Funny how things turn out, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "You just sit tight and I'll get this place warmed up."

Micayla nodded but immediately wished she hadn't moved her head. The interior
of the shed seemed to come to life, swirling around in her visual field until she had no choice but to close her eyes and wait for the dizziness to pass.

"This is damned inconvenient," she grumbled when she opened them a few

moments later. "You can plan for just about everything else, but the possibility of getting sick never occurs to you."

"Don't worry about it, Mick," Trag said. "Even if we don't get Grekkor this time, we know the truth now. We'll catch up with him eventually."

"I suppose you're right," she said with a sigh. "He can't hide from us forever."

Trag pulled the heating unit out of his pack and set it up nearby. "This'll have you warm as toast in no time," he said.

"Sounds good--at least I think it does. I've never felt like this before; I'm freezing cold but sweating at the same time. Very strange."

"Want something to drink?"

"Yeah. Maybe some of that hot chocolate."

Trag fixed a cup for her and heated it up with his pulse pistol set on the lowest stun level. "Hidar taught me how to do that," he said, handing her the steaming mug.

"Wasn't something I ever needed to do on Darconia--didn't have a pistol either--but as cold as I've been ever since I left, it's been very helpful."

"Thank you," she said gratefully. "It's perfect."

While she sipped her chocolate, Trag laid out their sleeping bags. Even engaged

in such a simple task, Trag still drew her eye; just looking at him made her feel better.

"These things are heated too," he remarked. "But there's nothing quite like another warm body, is there?"

Micayla agreed, wishing she dared to undress completely so she could spend the

night in his arms. Suddenly, the need to have Trag's skin next to hers was overwhelming.

Maybe if he just undid his shirt so she could lay her head on his chest. That might be enough...

"Hungry?" he asked.

"A little," she replied. "Though it might make me feel worse, depending on what it is. Something tells me these rations don't include fresh fruit."

"Probably not," Trag said. "And knowing Jack, they could be from anywhere."

Trag pulled out a few packages and inspected them carefully. "Would you believe they're actually Terran? We've got something here called meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and another that says turkey and dressing. Sound okay to you?"

"Sounds fabulous," Micayla said. "I was afraid we'd be getting sun-dried Kreater beast or something equally horrible."

"Jack should have given some of these to Hidar while we were at the palace,"

Trag remarked. "Then he wouldn't have had to fly to McDonalds all the time."

Micayla shrugged. "I think he likes his Big Macs too well to ask for anything else.

He's a strange one, isn't he?"

"And touchy as hell when he's molting," Trag said with a nod. "He looked pretty ragged when we left, though. Should be done with that pretty soon."

The heating unit put out more warmth than a campfire, and soon Micayla had

stopped shivering. The hot food helped, but she felt even better when Trag sat down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"I think I could come out of this parka now," he said. "What about you?"
Micayla nodded and with Trag's help she was soon snug inside their combined

sleeping bags, leaning up against the wall with Trag's parka behind them and hers covering them. As she'd expected, the heat of his body was far more soothing than anything else. Until he began purring, that is.

"This is what I was talking about when I said I liked cold snowy nights," she said.

"The only difference is that I had to imagine what it would be like to be snuggled up with another person."

"Now you know."

"Yeah, now I know."

"Like it?"

"Mm-hmm," she replied, wrapping her arms around him. "Can't think of anything better."

"I can," Trag said. "But we'll leave that for when you're not feeling so rotten."

It was slightly drafty inside the shed, but for the most part, the howling wind was kept at bay. The heater was highly effective, if somewhat lacking in atmosphere. "Too bad we don't have a real fire," she said. "I went camping a lot when I was a kid. There's nothing quite like sitting around a campfire in the winter. It feels cozy and warm and makes a nice crackling sound. Smells good too."

"I'll take your word for it," said Trag, giving her a squeeze. "This feels pretty perfect to me."

She didn't argue, and Trag decided it was as good a time as any to ask her some

questions that had been plaguing him. "So, Mick," he began. "What are you going to do when this is all over? Just supposing everything turns out right; Grekkor is brought to justice and the Nedwuts aren't hunting us anymore--and no one thinks you killed that Norludian. What will you do then?"

"I don't know," she replied. "I could go back to Orleon--might even be able to get my old job back--but I'm not sure that's what I want now."

"Any idea what you do want?" he asked.

"Not really," she replied. "There are a lot of possibilities."

Trag swallowed hard. Since she obviously wasn't going to broach the subject, it

was up to him to take the plunge. "Do any of them include me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to lose you, Mick. I--I think we should stick together."

"We should all stick together," Micayla said. "But I doubt if Jack will ever truly settle down."

"She tried it for a while," Trag said. "Couldn't stand not being on her ship, though."

"What about you?" she asked, her warm gaze searching his face. "You seem to be something of a wanderer yourself."

"Not sure I need that anymore," he said. "While I was a slave, all I could think of was how much I wanted to get back into space and feel free again. Now that I'm there, I'm beginning to see the advantages to settling down."

"Such as?"

"Such as not having to watch my back all the time. Not having to kill every

Nedwut on sight before they get the chance to kill me. Having decent food and a warm bed and someone to share it with. I never cared about those things before."
"Oh," she said, her voice sounding unsteady. "W-what changed your mind?"

Trag took her hand and pressed it to his lips. "You did," he said. "I never wanted it until I found you."

"Trag, I--" She looked delightfully confused--a circumstance which made him long to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she knew exactly what he meant, but he would try words before actions this time. He wanted her to understand him beyond a shadow of a doubt.

"Look, I know you don't love me, but honest to God, Mick, if anything ever

happened to you, I'd--well, I don't know what I'd do! You mean a helluva lot to me.

Promise me you'll think about it."

Her expression of confusion persisted. "Which part?"

"Staying with me. I don't care where we go or what we do. I only know that

whatever I do, I want to do it with you."
Chapter 24

Micayla didn't know what to say. Had he just asked her to marry him, or what?

She thought she should say something in response but didn't know what it would be, particularly when she wasn't completely sure she'd understood the question.

"You don't have to answer me right now," he went on. "I just want you to think about it. We've had a pretty good time together these past few weeks and I don't want it to end. In fact, I want it to grow into something more--a lot more. We make a good pair, Mick. There's not many women I could spend this much time with without screaming at them."

"You don't have a very high opinion of women, do you?"

"Just haven't met the right kind, I guess," he said with a shrug. "Been hanging out with hookers and such for too long. Then there was the time I was a slave. Can't say I was abused or anything, but maybe I was sort of... used."

She thought she understood and nodded, but something else was bothering her.

There was one little thing she needed to be absolutely sure about. It wouldn't do to marry a man who was still harboring amorous feelings toward his sister-in-law. "What about Kyra? You said you loved her. Are you sure you're over that?"

"Yes, but it took you to make me see it," he said. "What about you? You didn't care much for men before. Are you over that too?"

"Maybe," she replied, smiling wickedly. "I don't mind you a bit."

Trag chuckled softly. "It's not much, but I guess it's a start." He pulled her closer.

"You know something? I'm really enjoying this trip."

"Me too," she said. "Cozy and warm with my Trag here with me. What more could I want?"

"Oh, I dunno, this all to be over and done with so we could go home?"

"Sounds nice, but we aren't there yet."

"Nope," he said sadly. "But at least I've got something to look forward to."

***

He still wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. Even though she hadn't said, "Yes, Trag, I'll be your mate," it came damn close. The trouble was, neither of them had much experience when it came to being in love. All the endearments that rolled so easily off of other tongues were hard for either of them to put into words. Trag toyed with the idea of just blurting out, "I love you, Mick! Please be my mate!" but somehow managed to hold his peace. There would come a time when he could say it without it sounding forced or contrived, but that day hadn't come yet. No, asking her to stick around for a while had been best. Even that had shaken her a little--at least, he thought it had.

He wanted to make love with her, to show her how he felt. Not just being creative or going through the motions of sex to prove she could arouse him. No, it was more than that, and he was finally beginning to understand it. Maybe just kissing her would be
enough...

Purring, he dipped his head down to taste her lips and felt the magic there--a

potent and lasting magic that he knew he'd never grow weary of. Just feeling her warm body in his arms, her smooth skin beneath his hands, her soft lips and wet kisses on his face were enough to prove it was real. He loved the sound of her voice, delighted in her laughter; fell completely apart when she cried out in ecstasy...

"Mmm, kiss me, Mick," he said between nibbles. "You see what I mean? I want to kiss you every day for the rest of my life--until we both grow old and our children are all grown up and have children of their own. Could you do that, Mick? Could you stay with me forever?"

Trag's heart nearly stopped when she pushed away from him. "Forever's a long time, Trag," she said hesitantly. "Are you sure you want to commit to that?"

"Mick, I've been from one side of this galaxy to the other, and I've never found anyone I want to be with forever--until now." He shifted slightly in an attempt to relieve the pressure on his cock, which was considerable. "Want to know how much I want you, Mick? Just feel my dick--and what you feel there, multiply that by about a million, maybe even more than that."

"My, how romantic that sounds," she said with a soft laugh, but Trag felt a jolt of pure sexual electricity when she put her hand on his groin. "Well, there's a big lump there, but I can't really tell if it's your dick or not with your pants on. How many pairs are you wearing?"

"Three," he replied. "Guess I'd better take them off then--and while we're at it, let's get rid of yours too. That is, if you're feeling okay."

"I feel better after eating a little something and resting for a bit. Maybe it is Nerik's backwards rotation," she said, "but it seems odd that it would bother me when space travel doesn't--at least, not much."

"Might be something in the air," he said as he pushed off all three layers of his clothing at once. "You never know how you'll react to new planets."

"True," she agreed, smoothing her hand over his hip. "That's much better. I'll have to say, the Nerik winter may be good for snuggling, but Darconia is the best place for boywatching."

Trag couldn't believe it. "You? Boywatching? Really?"

"Yes, really," she grumbled. "Okay, I'll admit it. I do like to look, but I'm very careful about it."

"No kidding. I'd have never guessed."

"I learned a long time ago how not to get caught. Guys catch you looking and they get all cocky and think you want more."

"Oh, I'd never make that mistake," Trag said facetiously. With a wide grin, he added, "Take a good, long look at me, Mick. Do you like what you see?"

Micayla took a deep breath and pushed back the parka that still covered his chest.

"Mmmm," she said as she ran her fingers lightly from his neck to his groin. His penis bloomed as she reached it, the corona becoming even more stiffly engorged, the syrup flowing freely from the ruffled points. "You make me wish I was the most romantic woman in the universe," she said, "or at least a poet, but I'm not. Never had much practice at saying sweet things to a man--but I do love the way the hair grows on your belly, leading down to that fabulous cock. Your glowing eyes and thick, curly hair. Sleek
muscles... Yeah, I like what I see. You make me drool, Trag," she purred. "You bring out the animal in me... make me want to suck your dick and bite you..."