Operation Hydra (11 page)

“That’s what he’s made them believe.”

“What else did you learn?”

“Well, I don’t know if it’s important or just a curiosity. But all the occupants of the Center, at least the ones I saw, are female.”

“Well, Krysta, I had to improvise.” Trey pressed his thumb against the scanner and unlocked the door. Front Range Resorts were known for their extravagant pleasures and willingness to entertain a less than pristine clientele. Trey had told Hydran this morning that he was taking Krysta to The Pinnacle, the nearest Front Range Resort, insisting they not be interrupted.

Krysta hardly acknowledged his existence. Her hungry gaze devoured each new wonder as she strolled about the room. She ran her fingers along the richly upholstered furniture and paused before the slowly morphing picture. Framed in wide black tubing, the vivid scene gradually changed from a tranquil seascape to a colorful mountain vista.

“Were you able to get another ship?” she finally asked.

“Yes, but not the one I wanted, thus the improvisation.”

She paused and looked at him. “Well, what sort of ship did you get?”

“A luxury cruiser.”

“Isn’t that basically a movable hotel room?” She motioned to their opulence surroundings. “Then, what do we need with this?”

“This room is for Hydran’s benefit. We aren’t even staying the night.”

She nodded, obviously disappointed by the news.

As Krysta feared, there was a homing device in Belle’s monitor, but unbeknownst to Hydran she didn’t need a device to sense her twin’s lifeforce. Trey intended to leave the monitor in the suite and sneak away with Krysta in the cruiser. Even if Hydran had someone watching the shuttle, he would have no reason to suspect they were not here, indulging their carnal appetites.

Trey focused on Krysta, warmed by her wonder. Her gaze swirled with eager curiosity. She took in everything with wild abandon, like a child. But just beneath her enthusiasm, he could sense her defiance, her bitterness. Even in this moment of indulgence, a part of her added this to the incredible toll Hydran had exacted upon her life.

“There are only four suites on this floor and it’s accessed by a private elevator. Hydran’s spy or spies will be stuck watching the shuttle. There’s a rooftop landing pad, so we’ll fly to Meditek and back without their realizing we’ve left the building.”

“You’re sure we were followed from the Center?”

“I didn’t catch a ship shadowing us, but Hydran would be a fool not to keep an eye on us at this point.”

“I agree.” She continued her meandering trek across the room. “Oh, my,” she murmured and disappeared through a doorway.

Curious, Trey went to see what she found so interesting. It was a bathing chamber. His mind immediately supplied vivid images of her enjoying each of the facilities. Her back arched as she stood beneath the gentle spray of the multiple showerheads, thrusting her full breasts up and out. He saw her reclining, long legs gently parted, against the molded surface of the bathing tub.

The padded bench against the far wall was likely meant for private massages, but his imagination found other, more interesting uses for the height and angle.

“This is amazing,” she whispered.

In his mind he was kneeling on a folded towel, she lay upon the massage table, her legs draped over his shoulders…

“I agree.” His voice cracked suspiciously and he hurried from the room.

The sleeping chamber was just as decadent.
Massive sleeping station, remotely triggered fireplace and a private balcony.
He spared it only a torturous glance before moving back into the outer room.

“They’re re-charging the ship,” Trey said when she emerged a few minutes later. “But we can head out to the landing pad as soon as you change your clothes.”

She glanced down at her uniform. “What’s wrong with my clothing?”

“It’s perfect for the Center, but you’ll draw too much attention walking around a pleasure resort in something so — utilitarian. We need our departure to go unnoticed.”

“And what do you propose I —” A knock at the door interrupted her question.

Trey crossed the room and opened the door, thanking the porter with a golden credit chip. He returned with a large zippered bag to continue the conversation. “What do I propose you wear?
Why, this.”
He proffered the bag.

“How did you arrange all of this so quickly?”

“There are few things currency can’t expedite. Change in the sleeping chamber. I’m anxious to get underway.”

“As am I.”

The door shut behind her and Trey scowled. His improvisation had created several unexpected complication. He wasn’t licensed to pilot cruiser class spacecraft, so he’d been obligated to accept the “complimentary” three person crew. This in turn left him and Krysta alone with nothing but time on their hands. He wanted to keep this mission simple, clean, quick, but every time he turned around it became more challenging.

He swept his hair away from his face and bound it at the nape of his neck. He hated binding his hair. The angular lines of his features became all the more apparent with his hair bound. He’d been told it made him look mean. And the black eye film only added to his severe appearance. Well, he needed his smallest request to be fulfilled without question, and intimidation could be a powerful motivator.

“Are you dressed?” he called through the door.

When she didn’t respond, he rapped against the panel with his knuckles. The door swung inward. She stood beside the sleeping station, looking somewhat flustered. She had managed to secure the front lacings of her gown, but the upper curves of her luscious breasts swelled into view. The formfitting purple garment revealed her trim waist before the skirts flared dramatically to the floor. Her hair hung in golden disarray about her shoulders. Nervously licking her lips, she cleared her throat, but words failed her.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“There were shoes and long, sheer stockings, but they seem to have forgotten undergarments.”

Her own undergarments were neatly folded on top of her uniform. He could bend her over the side of the sleeping station, toss the long skirt up to her waist, and bury himself in her throbbing core. His body responded with painful enthusiasm.

Did she want him to ravage her? Was she hoping he would… it didn’t matter! The mission must take priority! He swept up the shoes and pulled her from the room. “Put these on and let’s get out of here.” He shoved the shoes at her.

“Was that necessary?”

The rise and fall of her full breasts held him transfixed.
You’re losing your mind dar Aune! She’s just a woman. You’ve seen breasts before.

“Yes,
Your Majesty,
it was entirely necessary. You’re in imminent danger of being ravaged, and I just rescued you.”

She laughed. “You’re the only one here, so…”

In two quick strides he was in front of her. He shoved his hands into her unbound hair, tilting her face up toward his. “Are you ready, Krysta? Do you want me to take you? I’ll show you why they don’t bother with undergarments in places like this.”

Her mouth trembled, her tongue darting out to wet her lower lip. “We have to get to Meditek,” she whispered.

“That’s right,
we,
as in you and I. Why is that Krysta? Why were you so insistent that I be the one to
take
you?”

Pushing against his chest, she tried to turn her face away. “You know the reasons as well as I do. Why are you acting like this?”

Pulling her hand down along his body, he pressed it firmly over his throbbing erection and groaned. “You’re driving me crazy! Did you want me to slip my hand up under your skirt? Is that why you said that to me?”

She snatched her hand away and twisted free. “You asked me what was wrong. I told you. I’m not playing games with you.”

“Well, I’m not playing games any longer, either. This trip is about more than whatever is waiting for you at Meditek. You wanted to be alone with me and you’re going to tell me why.”

Something in her expression shifted, hardened. Her eyes narrowed and her chin rose. “When you’re truly ready to quit playing games with me, Lord
dar
Aune, then I will tell you, and not before.”

She shoved her feet into the shoes and waited for his next move. He couldn’t be sure if the gleam in her eyes was anger or tears. “Let’s go.”

The corridor was empty. Krysta tripped over her skirt twice before Trey growled that she should discreetly hold it just off the floor with one hand. She glared her thanks, but followed his instructions.

Are you ready, Krysta?

Do you want me to take you?

She tripped again and Trey spun toward her. “Do I need to carry you?”

“Would you?” She shot back without pause. “These shoes really pinch my toes.”

His jaw worked, she could almost hear his teeth grinding. Ducking under his arm, she started walking again, carefully keeping her skirt an inch off the floor.

“Through there.” He pointed to a door leading to the roof. “Don’t speak to the crew. The less they know the better. Besides at a place like this, they’re used to being ignored.”

“Crew?
Why do we have a crew?”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her snugly against his side.
“Because I’m not familiar with Earthish technology.
I’ve only been here once before. A simple shuttle I can manage. This is a luxury-class cruiser.”

“Lord and Lady Layton?” the uniformed crewman asked as they neared the craft.

“Yes.” Trey’s tone was so imperious Krysta glanced up at him. Had that condescending voice actually come from him? “You have my instructions, I trust?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“I will inspect the accommodations, and if everything is in order, you may inform the captain we are ready to leave.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Krysta kept her gaze averted while they passed the man and boarded the ship. It hadn’t looked impressive from the outside, roughly twice the size of the shuttle, but certainly nothing out of the ordinary. The inside, however, was another story.

Excluding the tiny cockpit and closet-size crew quarters, the entire ship was devoted to the comfort of the passengers. The opulent private cabin contained a massive pedestal bed, elegant sitting area, and bathing facilities offset by double doors. Krysta turned to make a smart remark to Trey but found the crewman watching her. She swept her gaze on by as if he weren’t there.

“This will do,” Trey said dismissively. “We are not to be disturbed. Is that understood? If we require anything, you will be told.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Krysta shivered. This role came a bit too naturally to him. She had seen glimpses of it before, but never had she been so sure of her suspicions. Trey was still pretending. Everything he told her might be true, but he was hiding things, probably the most important things.

Dropping into one of the overstuffed armed chairs, she kicked off her shoes and wiggled her abused toes. “Do you know a Layton or did you just make up the name?”

“My brother’s life mate — his wife — her name was Layton before she joined with Tal.”

“You have a brother?” Reaching down as discreetly as she could, she began to rub her sore feet. The shoes must be the wrong size. “I really know very little about you.”

“What do you want to know?” The arrogance left his tone, making it deep and caressing. He sat on the padded ottoman and pulled her foot into his lap. His strong fingers carefully squeezed her foot and then went to work on her toes.

She relaxed, fighting the need to close her eyes. “Tell me anything. Why did Dro Tar call you Lord
dar
Aune? Does that sort of title mean the same thing on Ontariese that it does on Earth?”

The ship vibrated, the distant hum of the engines announcing their departure, but Krysta could hardly feel any real movement. It would be easy to forget they were on a ship. “Are cruisers always this smooth?”

“Which question would you like me to answer?”

“Sorry. You’re more interesting than the ship. I just got distract —”

“Am I?” His warm hands moved to her ankle. “Do you find me interesting, Krysta?”

“I don’t know, yet.” She smiled. “Tell me more.”

He chuckled, pulling her other foot into his lap as well. “There are six great houses on Ontariese, two are considered royal. The High Queen is of the Royal House of Aune.”

“Lord Trey dar
Aune?
You belong to one of the royal houses? Should I be calling you Your Majesty?”

He didn’t answer. His fingers stilled and he let her feet slip to the floor. “I don’t know what you should call me. The person I expected to be my entire life doesn’t exist anymore.” He stood and turned toward the bathroom. “I have to get ready.”

* * * * *

Filling his palm with black goo, Trey smeared the substance into his hair, attempting to tone down the bright multi-colored strands.

She tapped on the door and he heaved a frustrated sigh. “Yes?”

“Are you decent? May I come in?”

He laughed. “That’s two separate questions.”

The door eased inward. Their gazes met in the mirror. “What are you doing?” Her scrunched up expression illustrated her distaste for the process.

“It’s temporary. There may be surveillance at Meditek.
Thought I’d try to look less… alien.”

She stepped into the bathing chamber and pulled a cloth from the rack. Wetting it with liquid from the faucet, she handed it to him and then stepped back as if she was afraid he’d touch her. He watched her gaze move appreciatively over his bare chest while he cleaned the black smears off his forehead. Trey glared at her.

“Did you just come to stare?”

“No, I came to apologize.” She snatched the bottle of tint from him. “You’re getting that everywhere.” After draping a towel around his shoulders, she worked the color evenly though his thick hair. “Where’s our luggage? I need my wide-toothed comb to work this in.”

“I had it delivered to our room at the resort. We’ll not need it until we return.”