Page 68 of Tail, Dark and Handsome: Celestial Mates
Gee. Thanks.
“Asteroid. Couldn’t avoid it,” she said.
“Try harder,” Chase retorted. He disentangled himself from Zero and inspected the hull.
“There was an error in the flight path,” she said. She noticed how Zero seemed to shrink in on himself, almost willing himself to vanish between the two adults.
Chase did not notice his nephew’s discomfort. “This is more than an error.”
“The stabilizer failed after impact.”
“The stabilizer is designed to crumple and absorb to prevent the rest of the ship from taking damage. It did not fail, and this is more than one strike. You ruined this ship.”
The damage looked bad from the outside. The once shiny silver surface was scratched and pitted. The sunlight amplified every flaw.
The ground vehicle slowly backed down the cargo ramp, driven by the ship’s computer. Zero and Winter loaded their bags into the back.
Chase turned toward her, stepping closer. “And how did you blunder into an asteroid? There are proximity alerts and numerous safety protocols.” He paused, tilting his head ever so slightly. His nostrils flared, and his ears pulled forward.
“Oh. That’s interesting,” he murmured, like he had some secret knowledge. “I think I see why Winter overlooked your lack of qualifications. I can smell him on you. I have to say, I’m surprised. When I told him to handle the situation, I did not think this would be his solution. You’re not his normal type.”
Fantastic. A creep.
Mari stepped back. She lifted her chin. “Why do you assume I have no qualifications? How easy do you think it is to pilot a starship?”
“I build them, so I have a fair idea. How much did he pay for you?”
“Standard rate for a four-week journey.”
Chase watched her. He had the same icy blue eyes as Winter—and Zero—but they felt blank. There was no warmth there, or capacity for it, just emptiness and greed. “I did my research on you, Marigold Moonquest. If you think you’re getting your human paws on Winter’s currency, you’ve badly underestimated your mark.”
“Research on me?”
His ears twitched. “Impossible not to, since you splashed yourself all over the media, hanging off Winter like a—”
The blasted media had made more than enough trouble for Mari’s tastes.
She turned to find Winter still in the vehicle. He raised his head, sensing her discomfort. “The job is done. I’ll take off,” she said, louder than necessary for Winter to hear. He was colorblind, not deaf.
“Leaving so soon?” Chase asked. He placed a hand on her lower back, uninvited. “I’d love to discuss…your user experience. Perhaps we can negotiate a family discount.”
His hand drifted down to her ass. She jumped away.
Before she could even think, Winter snatched Chase’s ear, forcing the man to stumble forward and bend over. Winter then slammed Chase into the side of the ship. He collided with a loud thump. She yelped in surprise.
“Do not touch her,” Winter snarled. He held Chase by the throat, just under the jaw. Chase kicked, his toes brushing across the ground.
The pinned man gurgled. Whatever that response meant, it seemed to appease Winter. His grip relaxed, and he lowered Chase to the ground, though he didn’t release his cousin. They stood there, two men wrestling for dominance, ears and tails working furiously.
For the first time, Mari saw the connection between the Winter in the media and the man she knew, even if it was directed at Chase. Aggressive to the point of wild, she knew his behavior came from a desire to protect her. No matter how much he huffed and puffed, she didn’t believe him capable of murder. Those unfounded rumors were just that, rumors.
Finally, after an eternity, Winter removed his hand and turned to walk away.
“What’s the matter? Too many witnesses?” Chase asked.
Winter turned back, slamming Chase into the side again. Both man and machine groaned. “Marigold is not your plaything,” he warned.
“She’s yours. I’ll see you at the board meeting,” Chase called out. Not a lick of self-preservation. None.
