The Tracker's Dilemma: (A Mandrake Company Science Fiction Romance) (27 page)

His expression turned dour. “Tests?”

“No. An answer to your concerns, I believe.”

His eyebrows rose, and a hint of hope gleamed in his green eyes.

“We’re clear to exit,” Jamie said from the pilot’s seat. “Lieutenant Sparks, I’ll start working on a list of repairs. Ladybug has had a rough couple of days.” She patted the helm.

“Ladybug.” Lieutenant Sparks made a choking noise.

“It’s too bad none of the fuzzy, spotted seat covers were damaged,” Striker said under his breath.

“I heard that,” Ankari said, pushing herself to her feet. “If you malign our decor, we won’t let you ride in our shuttle anymore.”

“Darn.” Striker ambled toward the hatch, his eyes lighting up as they took in Heath and Lauren, sitting side by side. “You two going to get together for raucous sex soon?”

“Uh?” Heath said.

“I’ve seen you getting cozy back here. Dr. Keys was in your lap earlier.”

“When I was on the deck after falling through the hatchway with the women?”

“You have to get ’em in your lap any way you can.” Striker elbowed Heath as he stood up, then gave Lauren a leer. “Did you manage to get a nice grope while she was falling on top of you?”

“You’re a rutting animal, Striker.”

Ankari shoved Striker in the back. “Get your tactless mouth off our shuttle. Your empty bunk is calling to you.” She wrinkled her nose. “As is your shower.”

“What’d I say?” Striker asked as more than one set of hands shoved him toward the hatch. “Nobody else likes your seat covers, either. I was just speaking my mind, like a man should.”

“I’m sorry about him,” Heath told Lauren as the others filtered past. He slipped his cap back on and offered her a hand up. “I hit him in the head as often as I can when we spar, hoping to jar some sense into him, but it never seems to help.”

“I just assumed he was raised by wolves.”

“He’d be a lot more polite if he had been. Alpha wolves don’t take crap from the pups in the pack, so they all grow up knowing their place. As far as I can tell, Striker doesn’t have a place.” He tilted his head as they walked down the mangled and creaking ramp. “When should I come to your lab?”

“It’ll take me a few hours to prepare my solution. Wait until tonight.”

His brows twitched upward, some of the grimness fading from his face. “You’re not planning to seduce me, are you?”

“Would that solve your boulder problem?”

“No, but it would make me forget about it for a while.”

She prodded at a grimy stain on his armor. “Change and shower before you show up, and we’ll see what happens.”

His eyebrows did far more than twitch this time, shooting upward and almost disappearing under the rim of his cap. He opened his mouth to say something, but tripped before it came out. To be fair, it wasn’t his fault—the ramp had been severely damaged, and the end hovered several inches above the deck instead of sitting flush. It thwarted his attempt to recover, and he ended up on the deck on his side.

“Are you all right?” Lauren blurted, crouching to reach for him.

“Oh, yeah,” he breathed, as if he hadn’t even noticed that he’d pitched to the deck.

Striker’s snicker drifted back to them as he paused at the shuttle bay exit and looked in their direction. “Somebody’s getting sex tonight. I can always tell.”

Ankari shoved him again. “Maybe when you’re alone in your rack tonight, you can contemplate why it won’t be you.”

Chapter 17

Tick slid his finger under the collar of his shirt. It was just a T-shirt, but that collar felt ridiculously confining at the moment. And he was sweating. Damn it. Lauren had told him to shower, and he
had
, vigorously and thoroughly, scrubbing his skin until it glowed red, determined that she would find nothing unappealing about him. But he’d no sooner than stepped out of the ladder well on her deck than he had started sweating.

Though he hadn’t completely rehearsed what he planned to say—coming across as casual and witty took a lot of rehearsal—he knocked on her door, anyway, figuring a less than smooth delivery would be preferable to armpit stains.

“Come in,” Lauren’s voice drifted out. The door slid aside.

Tick stepped inside, his heart thudding so loudly that he imagined he could hear it beating against his eardrums. He forced himself to loosen his grip on the plate of cookies he had talked Ying into making, cookies that still smelled of warm chocolate.

The flowers he had plucked from the ship’s grow room were in even more danger from his tense grip. He should have put them in a vase. What was she going to do with flowers without a vase? Did she keep a vase in her lab or something that could be used as one? He peered around, half looking for a vase and half wondering why his mind wouldn’t stop gibbering. It was a good thing she wasn’t the one with the mental powers. His thoughts would do nothing to impress her.

“Hello, Heath,” Lauren said brightly, turning away from a counter full of lab equipment.

She wore a silky blouse under her loose white lab coat, one that hugged the curves of her breasts nicely, and for a moment, he couldn’t find his voice as he imagined unbuttoning the blouse and sliding his hands—and maybe his lips and tongue—over her breasts. The rest of her looked nice too. She wasn’t dressed any differently than normal, but she looked like she had found time to shower, too, and that familiar scent of oranges drifted to his nostrils. He longed to walk straight up to her, bury his nose in the warm skin of her throat, and inhale deeply. Maybe he’d bury his face in her hair too. She wore it down, the dark locks framing her face and dangling down to the curve of her breasts. Somehow, his gaze always ended up back on her breasts. Nobody would accuse him of being a butt man.

“Hi,” he said, realizing she was waiting for a response. She’d also noticed the cookies and flowers, so he stepped forward and offered them to her. “I didn’t know if you liked sweets or smelly things, so I brought both.”

“Smelly things?” She smiled and sniffed, though she waved her nose at him rather than at the plate of cookies.

“I
showered
,” he promised, willing the pricks of incipient sweat in his armpits to go away. Maybe if they both got naked, he would be less likely to sweat. Or maybe if they were both naked, it wouldn’t matter, because they would be busy doing things where sweat was expected, maybe even desirable. Would she ever run her tongue along his damp skin, enjoying the taste of him?

His groin stirred at these thoughts, his cock pressing against his trousers. He pointedly did not look at it and hoped Lauren wouldn’t notice it, either. She’d mentioned helping him with his problem. While she had hinted that she might be willing to have sex, or at least to share some kind of romantic moment later that night, she probably wouldn’t have asked him to come to her lab if that was all she had on her mind.

“Thank you.” Lauren accepted the plate of cookies and the flowers. The cookies went on the counter. She considered the flowers—a few colorful tulips and roses plucked from the tiny section of the grow room that wasn’t dedicated to growing fruits and vegetables for the crew—a little more doubtfully, then went hunting in the cabinets.

Idiot. He
should
have found a vase somewhere. Not that a vase was an easy thing to locate on a mercenary ship full of burly men with a predisposition toward breaking things, but surely, he could have foreseen this problem and come up with a solution.

Lauren pulled out a tall beaker with measurements printed on the side, filled it with water, and stuck the flowers inside. There. A solution. He sagged against the counter in relief, feeling foolish for his concern. And for worrying about it so much that his armpits were constantly in danger of breaking out in sweat. So what if it had been years since he’d had a relationship with a woman that hadn’t involved a brothel visit? That was no reason to panic.

“I have something for you also,” Lauren said, gazing up at him.

She looked calm, serene. Definitely not panicked. Maybe she wasn’t thinking about sex with him and worrying about getting it just right. Maybe she knew she didn’t have to perform well to impress him. He would be beyond delighted just to see her naked and to be allowed to touch. Well, visiting her orifices, as she had mentioned, would definitely be desirable too.

“What is it?” Tick asked, making himself look her in the eyes instead of allowing his gaze to dip to her breasts again. She had probably already noticed all of the peeks he had sneaked at them. He couldn’t help it that she was wearing something that snugged up against her curves so nicely.

She pulled a small round tin off the counter and held it out to him. “I apologize that these don’t look as professional as they would if they came out of a pharmacy, but they should do the trick. Out here near the rim worlds, it’s questionable what kinds of offerings pharmacies would have, anyway. You’re probably safer in my lab.” She quirked a smile at him.

“Of that I have no doubt,” he said, though he was puzzled as he accepted the tin. He opened it and stared down at a bunch of capsules. Pills. “Uh, if you’re hoping to avoid getting pregnant tonight, I think
you’re
supposed to take these.”

He’d meant it as a joke, but from the confused way her face wrinkled up, he didn’t think she understood it. Or maybe she was puzzled—or annoyed—that he had assumed they would have sex.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just meant—”

“They’re antibiotics, silly. As for the rest, I’ve had a birth control implant since I was thirteen.”

“Oh,” Tick said, staring down at the tin and willing understanding to come over him. His first thought was that he’d picked up some odd infection down on Sturm and that she somehow knew about it before he did. Then the gears slowly started turning, and he mouthed another, “Oh. To kill the bugs you gave me?”

Lauren nodded. “I developed an antibiotic that should work as I was refining my strain of intestinal microflora. Even though the early tests with the rats went well, I assumed there might be some problems or unpleasant side effects in the human subjects and that the tests might need to be terminated early. You were unprecedented.”

“I get that a lot.”

“Do you?” She smirked again.

“Not really. Honestly, I’ve never been special at anything in my life, unless you count stalking people through jungles.”

“The captain seems to find your skills useful.”

“Yes, but women aren’t as easily impressed by such things.” Actually, he’d done all right with women during his youth—his face and body usually made up for his lack of specialness. It was the lifestyle of a mercenary that had made it so difficult to find someone in recent years. The company never stayed in one place for long, and there was a paucity of women on the ship itself. Finding Lauren here… and convincing her that he had some appeal… He was thankful that it was working.

“Well, women are strange and fickle creatures,” she said, as if she were somehow on the outside of her sex and looking in. Maybe she
did
consider herself an outsider. “Take one every twelve hours for the next ten days. After that, we’ll re-inoculate you with your original colony of intestinal microbiota.” She waved toward a refrigeration unit under the counter. “I saved a sample.”

“You saved my gut bugs?” It had to be one of the stranger things a woman had told him, but he found it oddly endearing.

“Of course.” Lauren waved to the tin. “If this doesn’t work, there are other things we can try, but if you’re ready to stop reading minds and pushing boulders aside, you can take your first one right now.”

Tick fished in the tin. “Oh, I am. Just hope the captain forgives me.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“He’s found my new abilities a touch useful this last week. Think he wouldn’t mind having a tracker who can see into his enemies’ minds.”

“If he wants someone with those abilities, he can bring his ass down to my lab and sign up for the trial himself. He’s Grenavinian, too, after all.”

Tick made a face. He couldn’t help it.

“What is it?” Lauren asked.

“Sorry, I was imagining the captain bent over with his trousers around his ankles as you, uhm—” He cleared his throat. This was not the kind of conversation he’d wanted to have. It wasn’t sexy at all, and he wanted her thinking sexy thoughts. Of him. “I guess I’d just prefer it if I was the only man whose butt you wanted to grab.”

Her eyebrows rose—they were being quite expressive tonight, or maybe he was being extra silly, thus prompting the need for many eyebrow raisings. He thought she might smirk again, or maybe outright snicker.

Instead, she stepped closer to him, her chest just shy of touching his. He swallowed and set the tin on the counter, wanting his hands free for… whatever she would allow.

“You are,” she murmured.

“Are what?” He lifted his hand and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

“The only man whose butt I want to touch.”

“That’s good,” he whispered, his heartbeat pounding in his ears again. “I washed it good for you. Just in case.”

She hesitated, then slid her hand around his waist and down to his ass. She smiled shyly as she gave it a squeeze, then left her hand there, cupping him to her. Heat charged his body, along with the awareness of how close they stood, how little air separated them. He returned her smile, and maybe his was on the shy side, too, as he lowered one of his hands to
her
ass. The space between them disappeared as he drew her close.

“Heath,” she said, sounding surprised. “You’re already aroused.”

“Er, yes.” He thought about apologizing for his errant cock, but she didn’t seem affronted, nor did she move away. She was just surprised. He couldn’t help it that men were so easily aroused. He thought about telling her how the teenage years had been, but no. What was more important was that he got her to a similar state. He slid his free hand behind her ear, pushing his fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp. “I promise not to start without you. Or before you’re ready.” Hm, that had sounded smoother and less lurid before it had come out of his mouth.

There went her eyebrows, rising again. “I didn’t mind watching you,” she said.