Taking Liberty (10 page)

Settling the platter onto the crate they'd fashioned into a table, she watched Lucus feed packing material to the fire. A shower of sparks erupted, casting him in a red glow and highlighting the bead of sweat sliding down the bronzed column of his throat. An overwhelming urge to follow the trail of sweat with her tongue crashed over her. She stuffed a potato chip into her mouth to combat any stupid ideas about making her fantasy a reality.

He turned, his scrutiny falling on the dish of food. A sexy smile playing on his lips, he sauntered over. “Perfect timing.” He munched a chip and leisurely licked his fingers clean.

Is he trying to kill me?

Lucus stared at her, his forehead scrunching. “You're looking at me weird.”

“I am?”

“Yep.” He narrowed his eyes. “I thought we agreed no more bickering.”

She gaped at him. “I didn't even say anything.”

He shook a chip at her. “You don't have to. I can hear the argument brewing inside your head.”

“You're craz—” She snapped her mouth shut. Hey, if he wanted to think that, fantastic. Better than him knowing the only thing inside her head at the moment was a vision of him eating potato chips off her naked body.

“Look, I'm sorry if my calling your worldview narrow sounded harsh.” He crushed the chip and the decimated pieces fell from his fist. “And maybe I should have told you about the situation with Quarrel sooner. I'm not used to sharing everything with people. It's always been easier just to do my own thing. Not depend on anyone.”

“Not even your brother?”

He snorted. “Especially not my brother. He can barely function on his own.”

Something besides sarcasm lurked in Lucus's tone. Before she could ask him about it, he changed the subject to the upcoming mission, effectively dead-bolting the door on any possible revelations.

“Hopefully this trip won't take me more than a couple days. Regardless, while I'm gone keep an eye out for unwelcome visitors. The fact none of Quarrel's men have shown up doesn't mean they're unaware of us.”

If that was the case, Lucus could be walking into a trap. “Maybe we should take one last look—”

He cut her off by shoving a wedge of ham into her mouth. Glaring, she chewed then swallowed the piece of meat. “Was that necessary?”

“Yep. Worked pretty good too. Might have to remember it for future reference.”

“Hah, good luck.” She planted her hands on her hips. “I'm on to you now. I'll hide all the food. What'll you do then, Mr. Smartypants?”

A wicked gleam danced in his eyes. “Guess I'll have to find something else to stick in your mouth.”

She blinked. Surely he didn't mean…
Oh man, I need to get my mind out of the gutter.

Lucus reached behind him and grabbed one of the wooden cartons stacked next to the star cruiser. He patted it invitingly. “Here, take a load off. I'll be back in a sec. I've got a surprise I think you'll like.”

Her curiosity piqued, she dutifully plopped her butt onto the carton. Less than five minutes later he returned with an assortment of truffles arranged on a tin plate. Somehow she managed not to drool on herself.

“Where in the universe did those come from?”

“Remember when we stopped on Zondoroc? One of the traders from the market specializes in them. My ma has me stock up for her every six months.” He selected a truffle dusted with white chocolate shavings and held it to her mouth. “Open up.”

She parted her lips and he slipped the morsel inside. It melted on her tongue like a decadent dream. This time she wouldn't complain about having food stuffed in her mouth.

“What do you think?”

Words couldn't adequately describe the sinful party happening for her taste buds so she hummed in appreciation.

“Want another?”

“Please.”

“Since you asked extra nice.” Wearing a teasing grin, he plucked a dark chocolate truffle from the dish and fed it to her.

Closing her eyes, she released a blissful sigh. “If I keep eating these, I won't care about us being stranded. I'll also end up weighing three hundred pounds and our rescuers will require a hover crane to airlift me into their ship.”

Laughing, Lucus nudged another carton next to hers and eased down. He wolfed two wedges of the ham and smacked his lips. “Those weren't half as disgusting as they looked.”

“Admit it, you only ate the ham so you wouldn't feel bad stuffing yourself with chocolate.”

“Damn, I'm that obvious?” His smile unrepentant, he popped a coconut-crusted truffle in his mouth.

So he likes sweets
. At least she could say she knew something about him. “What made you decide to captain your own cargo ship?”

“Seemed like a good way to make a buck. Plus it gave me a chance to see the galaxy, forget about things for a while.”

“Forget about things?”

The firelight at his back made reading his expression difficult. Still, she could sense the tension radiating from him.
Great, now he'll go into lockdown again. Why couldn't I keep my mouth shut
?

“I was going through a divorce. An unpleasant one.”

His reply triggered a multitude of emotions inside her. Shock stood at the forefront. Lucus—loner space-trader extraordinaire—had been married?

“Sandra drew the shortest stick.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You're looking at me like you're trying to figure out how a woman got roped into marrying me. She got the short stick.”

He was back to cracking jokes. The divorce must have been way worse than he was letting on. “I'm sorry you had to go through it. Do you ever…see each other?”

“No. We don't exactly run in the same circles these days.” Heavy silence stretched between them and he stood, reaching for the plate of truffles. “Better take these inside before they melt all over the place.”

Without giving herself time to rethink her actions, she placed her hand on his forearm. “Please stay. We don't have to talk about any of that stuff.” He hesitated and she freed the dish from his grip, resettling it on the crate. “I'll be stuck here for the next few days with no one but the lizards to talk to. Take pity on me.”

Lucus sat, his large body angled at the very edge of the carton—more than likely so he could escape without banging his kneecap in case the need arose. Behind him, the fire popped and crackled, blue-tipped flames licking the night air.

The scent of wood smoke drifted to her nose, its sharp essence oddly comforting. “Aside from us hiding out from a diabolical dictator, is this anything like camp?”

Lucus's shoulders relaxed and he chuckled. The sound lifted the strain between them and they spent the next half hour talking politics and the chances of Warddok Fourteen's all-pro team winning the title of intergalactic mutant bowling champs. In other words, any topic was fair game but his wife and his brother. She didn't care. It was enough just hearing his husky baritone and occasional laugh.

Oh crap. I've fallen for him
. The queasy excitement trembling in her stomach wouldn't let her deny it.

“Are you okay? You look like you're going to puke or something.”

She swallowed hard. “Think I ate too much chocolate.”
God, I'm a liar
and
a chicken shit
.

Lucus stood. “Come inside with me. You can rummage for an antacid while I put the rest of my pac together.”

Though she doubted a pill would help with her problem, she traipsed after him. She waited until he disappeared down the corridor to his sleeping port before slinking into the galley.
Why do I have this habit of falling for the worst possible guy at the worst possible time
? She leaned against the steel wall and dug her knuckles into her temples. “A shrink would have a field day with me.”

Disgusted with her apparent lack of sense, she stalked to the table and bundled the medi-kit together. Remembering the nightscope imager tucked away in her jacket pocket, she abandoned the galley for the bridge. It took a few minutes to find her jacket. Somehow it left its post on the copilot seat and ended up squashed beneath the arm of the lounger. She straightened just as Lucus rounded the corner.

Shifting the bulky pac-sack strapped to his back, he glanced at the jacket balled in her grip. “I was using that for a pillow. Hope you don't mind.”

“You've been loaning me your bed. I'd look a tad ungrateful if I threw a hissy about you sleeping on my jacket.” She dug inside the interior pocket and pulled out the nightscope.

“Shit, no wonder it felt like I had a rock jamming into my skull.”

She frowned. “Why didn't you take it out?”

“Yeah, right. I know how territorial women are about their belongings. I didn't want you kicking my ass for invading the inner sanctum of your pockets.”

“Inner sanctum, huh? High title for something that's lined in microfiber and houses lint.” She released the nightscope's retractable neck cord. “Bend down so I can slip this on you.”

Lucus stooped. Standing on tippy-toe, she hooked the cord in place and tried to ignore the tantalizing heat of his skin. He smelled of wood smoke and musky sweat, a strange combination that shouldn't have made her tingly in all sorts of embarrassing places. She dropped her hands and backed up.

“Thanks.” His voice held a gravelly undertone and his pupils seemed darker than usual.

“No problem. I figured the nightscope would come in handy.”

“Yeah, might save me from accidentally crossing paths with that hungry bear.”

“True.”

He tightened the strap on his pac-sack, jostling the huddle tent anchored beside it. “I should probably get going. Before the sun rises.”

She nodded. They stared at each other for a long, awkward moment. Her hands shook with nervous tension and she hid them behind her back. “Yep, you really should.”

His gaze slid away and he stepped around her. With effort, she swallowed past the lump of anxiety lodged in her throat and turned to watch him leave. “Please be careful.”

Lucus halted, took two steps forward and hesitated again. He stood there silent for several seconds before pivoting.

“What's wrong? Did you forget something?”

“Yeah.” Two long strides later, he was in front of her, his arms engulfing her and his head descending.

The kiss ignited like an electrical fire, zipping through all her synapses. When her knees threatened to give out, Lucus tightened his grip, one palm curving the base of her neck and the other riding low near her tailbone. His tongue continued its mission of short-circuiting her brain.

I'm going to need a heart defibrillator after this
. She cupped his face and kissed him back with enough force to bruise her lips. Didn't matter. She'd gladly endure it to savor this moment.

He pulled back, his breath ragged. “When I get back, I'm going to make you forget asshole Mark Sommers ever existed.”

She blinked. “Mark who?”

His mouth tugging into a smug, masculine grin, he turned and strode towards the exit.

Chapter Ten

Fatigue started prodding at Lucus around midday. The sun was nearly at its zenith, which only added to the torture. Once the desert turned its furnace dial to full blast, it'd be impossible to continue. His motions sluggish, he loosened the straps on the pac-sack and huddle tent before dropping both burdens to the ground. The loss of the excess weight quieted the complaints of his straining muscles. If he possessed an ounce of moisture in his body, he would have teared up with relief.

A large outcropping of rock provided a good location for pitching the tent. Less than five minutes later, he crawled inside the enclosure and secured the flap. The huddle's heat-repellant material kept the cramped interior relatively cool. Stripping off his shirt, he wadded the fabric into a ball, intending to use it as a pillow for his nap. His body shivered in anticipation of sleep, but first he desperately needed hydration.

Unzipping the pac-sack, he fetched one of the canisters of water and unscrewed the lid. He battled the urge to slug down the water and took measured sips instead. When his gut didn't revolt, he risked a lengthier swallow and recapped the canister. Giving into the exhaustion yanking at his limbs, he stretched out on the tent's padded floor with a groan. There wasn't enough room to fully recline his legs but he wouldn't bitch. Wedging his shirt beneath his head, he closed his eyes and within seconds, fell asleep. Rini filled his dreams—her mouth sweet and teasing as it traversed along his abdomen and lower, until her lips closed over his cock and sucked him inside the hottest heaven he'd ever known.

“Yeah, baby, like that. Deeper.” He jerked awake, blinking. The vibrant dream dissolved like a fine spider web in a rainstorm. Glancing down, he noticed the position of his hand and the status of his raging hard-on. “Great, I'm jerking off in my sleep now.”

Shaking his head, he scooted to his knees and unfastened the tent flap. The sun had begun its trek towards the west. Deciding he'd best get a quick meal in before resuming his journey, he unpacked the dried beef and tore off a small portion. He washed down the meat and a handful of the hubarra nuts with a few gulps of water. By the time he reassembled and strapped everything onto his back, the sun had dipped even farther on the horizon, striping the desert with its sherbet hues.

For the next two hours he concentrated his sight on the mountain ridge in the distance, using the focal point as motivation to keep one foot stepping in front of the other. He was so wrapped up in that deliberate task, he almost missed the glint of metal towering beyond a cluster of boulders. Veering off track, he went to investigate.

“I don't fucking believe it.” Crouching behind the shortest of the boulders, he stared at the dome-shaped hut that squatted in the middle of the desert terrain like a giant steel mushroom. From the architectural design, he was willing to bet the structure belonged to Quarrel.
An outpost station?
Possibly. Seemed logical Quarrel would have guards patrolling his base, even this far out. It also stood to reason that there'd be a beacon transmitter stashed in the building.