Page 9 of Tempting Jupiter
“Thank you, Captain.” The man’s voice rattled like a pooch-snake wagging its tail for attention.
Fitzhew hopped out of his chair and came to a stop in front of Seneca. “Sinful Seneca, eh?”
Seneca kept his growl from escaping.
“Since you were so good,” said Fitzhew, “I’m sending you to the medic for a stitch-up.”
“What about Jupiter?”
“Your big friend in the brig? He’s already proven he can’t behave, so he stays where he is.”
“You told Owens he would die.”
“He might, but if he doesn’t, it would be nice to have a card up the sleeve.”
Seneca didn’t understand the reference, but the tone told him what he needed to know. Jupiter was still alive and relatively safe… for now.
Chapter Five
TheSalleyHo
EarthAllianceBeta Sector
2210.146
By the time Feeona finished with the big guy’s shoulder, he’d disappeared behind eyelids edged with long, delicate lashes. Those lashes had to be the only delicate thing on the man. They’d settled against the puffy purple shadows that stained the skin below his eyes. In sleep, all the guarded gruffness had drained away from his features. Feeona smoothed her hand over his short, dark hair. She’d learned as a child that pain could make a man lash out, but he’d taken the hurt she’d had to inflict until it had shut him down.
She sat on the bunk, fascinated by the wounded beast taking up most of the space. Even in sleep, he was a big, powerful man, but his presence was more reassuring than threatening. She couldn’t say why. It couldn’t be the fact that he clearly meant something to the other Arena Dog. Even the worst of men had friends. It couldn’t be that he hadn’t killed her when he awoke to find her crouched over him, when he clearly hated humans. That had been in his own best interest. It couldn’t be that she saw a familiar combination of vulnerability and inner strength in him. Why should she care one whit?
And Feeona was getting off this lousy ship in… she started to check the time, then realized, she needed to reconfirm course and speed to update her schedule. And that meant getting Bug back to an unsecured terminal. Feeona got to her feet and paced to the wall. She slapped her palms against the metallic reminder of her confinement and pressed her forehead to the cool, flat surface. The chill did little to sharpen her focus.
She’d been too damn preoccupied with the injured lug when she should be concentrating on the plan. Her plan. She had a job to do. Getting to the meet with her buyer had to be her top priority. She needed the money he’d pay for the navigation charts she’d stolen off Fitzhew’s computers, charts Fitz still didn’t know she had, and she needed to get back toPetro-5before Toolman decided to sell the cargo waiting for her there out from under her.
Her thoughts drifted back to the lavender-eyed Arena Dog who’d asked her to help his friend. Her gaze settled on the man sleeping in the cell’s only bunk and the small wedge of space where she’d sat while working on his shoulder. His chest rose and fell in the relaxed rhythm of deep sleep.
She needed to work with Bug to get updated data from the navigation system and then she needed rest, but that wedge wasn’t really enough space to ensure she wouldn’t end up on her butt on the floor if she did actually unwind enough to sleep.
The rhythmic hum and shimmer of the pulse field added hazard to the unappealing deckplates beneath her feet. Eyes tracing the cold, unadorned walls of her cell, Feeona turned in place. Definitely not the corner with the cleansing unit. Her patient and the bunk he occupied were the only inviting things in the room.
One step and she was beside the bunk. She sat, slipped out of her boots, and swung her legs up onto the bed. Pushing away the memory of how he looked in the buff, she carefully turned onto her side and wiggled into a semi-comfortable position. She stretched one leg over his, wedging her toes beneath his muscled calf to ward off any urge to roll away and off the bunk.
His tight black pants ended just below his knees and his boots stopped at his ankle. For a half second she wished she’d taken off her socks so she could feel his heat, skin to skin. The broad, bare expanse of his chest offered a much more effective temptation. Avoiding his injuries, Feeona wrapped an arm across him and pressed her cheek against his good shoulder. His warmth soaked into her, relaxing her muscles. Beneath the scent of cleanser, a masculine hint of leather teased her nose.
She closed her eyes and activated Bug where it sat hidden in the air vent. She sent the remote looking for a terminal. The controls were sluggish. Bug needed to charge after all the heavy lifting it had done to get supplies for her patient.
Even with her focus on Bug, she could feel the man pressed against her, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. With a thought she activated the sensory overlay that would allow her toseewhat Bugsawas it moved through the ship’s environmental conduits. Using the ship’s schematics, Feeona guided Bug toward the nearest terminals. There were two that looked promising. One in the ship’s tiny science lab and another in the medical center. Fitz probably didn’t even have a qualified science officer, so there was unlikely to be anyone in the lab, but Bug had gotten in and out of the medical center several times without being noticed. No reason to think it couldn’t be done again.
As Feeona directed Bug to the riskier choice, she told herself she wasn’t checking to see if lavender-eyes… Seneca… had gotten medical attention for her own benefit. If she could reassure her cellmate with that information, it would just be a bonus.
As the darkness of the conduit gave way to the light of a nearby vent, Feeona’s mind briefly rebelled at the new sensory input. With light came a clearer image of surfaces and shapes, but also a Bug-sized sense of scale. The air vent filled her field of vision like the opening of a gigantic cave. The distance and the drop-off to the surfaces below seemed terrifyingly enormous until her intelligence won over animal instinct and her perspective snapped into place. Bug hovered in the conduit and the drop to the floor was no more than a couple of meters, and Feeona lay safely tucked against the big guy’s side.
“My injuries are minor.” In the room below, Seneca’s muscles tensed and bulged as he spoke to the medic in deceptively soft tones. “Jupiter is the one who needs medical attention.”
Bug’s predictive programming suggested the Arena Dog could easily break his restraints, but he was trying the honey tactic before turning to brute force.
Wise man.
***
