After sipping another hot mouthful of oversweetened java, Elpis set the ceramic mug on the end table and tilted her head back against the cushions. Soft foot falls entered behind her, paused, and froze somewhere near the espresso machine. She felt the heat of a man’s gaze lingering over her, prickling the fine hairs on her arms. Had to be Colonel Rossi. None of the other men on the ship, or women for that matter, did anything for her.
“I’m not asleep,” she spoke aloud without opening her eyes.
“Didn’t say you were,” he replied.
Ha!
His steps came closer. “This seat taken?”
“I don’t own the couch.”
His husky chuckle did something to her, initiating an unwelcome pulse between her thighs. She liked the velvety sound of his voice and the smell of the spicy soap on his skin, and it pissed her off even more that she was so keenly aware of his smellfrom three yards away. It wasn’t a strong smell; just pleasant. Rossi lowered to the couch beside her, and the cushions shifted under his weight, the mere presence of him inches away from her setting off butterflies in her stomach.
“Thank you for standing behind me earlier by defying your researcher.”
“Don’t mention it. He didn’t see those things in action on the deck. I did. We’d be insane to leave them alive.”
She opened her eyes to find him watching the television in front of them, some human war movie where a group of armed men led a beautiful woman named Diana down a muddy road rife with suffering peasants pleading for help.
But no one helped.
Elpis frowned. “There are people in pain. Why won’t they do anything?”
“They don’t have the time,” Rossi explained. “They have somewhere to be.”
“But there is a child crying.”
“Often a sad result of war.”
Her frown deepened, tugging the corners of her mouth a little more each time someone told the woman they—and by proxy, she—couldn’t help.
When Diana threw off her coat and revealed the costume beneath, Elpis screamed.
“I know her!” she blurted out, clapping her hands.
Rossi’s head whipped around to stare at her. “You know Wonder Woman?”
“No, I don’t know her,” she babbled, heat surging to her face. “She’s fictional. I mean, I know this movie. I have wanted to see this film so badly, but it wasn’t available for long anywhere but the city, and I was stationed elsewhere when it came to our cinema.” She sighed and picked up her coffee mug.
“Newsome,” Rossi said spoke into the wireless mic attached to his left ear. “What’s the long-distance scanner showing?”
“Nothing for a hundred miles, Colonel. Malcolm and I are about to swap roles while I catch some shut eye. You need anything?”
“Not at this moment. Get some rest. I’ll be down in the lounge if anyone needs me.”
“Sure you shouldn’t be getting some rest too? I’m sure even our gorgeous honorary ship medic would take offense to you staying up for twenty-four hours straight.”
El couldn’t help the big grin that surfaced. Most of his men were fascinated by her, and she’d used it to her advantage to get them to behave on the examination table while she repaired their wounds. Shameless didn’t begin to describe her when it came to using her looks, if it meant she could coax an otherwise distrustful man into letting her lay hands on him.
When she cocked a brow at him then mimed sleeping with both palms together against the side of her head, Rossi snorted, as if rest wasn’t on the schedule.
“Get some rest,” Rossi repeated, gruffer this time. He ended the communication then turned to El. “Well, if you’d like, I can start this over from the beginning for you. We have…” He glanced at his watch. An image of their current location blipped across the flat, rectangular face. “About four hours before we reach the coordinates your people gave us.”
“Yes!”
Then began the best movie from the surface world she’d ever watched, capturing her attention from beginning to end and enchanting her as thoroughly as she’d inadvertently charmed Rossi’s men. At the end, he grinned at her.
“I’m going to guess they don’t make flicks like this in your neck of the ocean.”