Dark Solstice (15 page)

She didn’t protest again. When Kyle finished and settled the tray on her lap, she ate what she could. “How long …?” She broke off at the look Kyle sent her, realizing abruptly that he didn’t like it, at all, when she asked about Raathe. She cleared her throat. “How long do you think we’ll be on lockdown?”

He shook his head, staring grimly at the door. “Not much fucking longer, I hope. Otherwise, we’re fucked.”

Rhea settled the spoon on the tray and studied him. “What’s going on?”

He sent her a speculative look and finally seemed to shrug. “We need to talk, but we need to be careful. We’ll talk after the guard comes back to collect the tray.”

It was actually a while after that. Discovering she didn’t feel nearly as well as she’d thought when she first woke, Rhea lay down again when Kyle took the tray and slipped it out of the cell. For a little while, she studied him drowsily as he paced the cell and then abruptly dozed off.

When she woke once more it was like a repeat of the first time she’d awakened except that Kyle wasn’t asleep. He was studying her, one hand drifting lightly along her cheek. It was his touch that had awakened her.

She stared at him curiously.

Lifting his head after a moment, he studied the corridor and finally shifted closer, dragging her, to her surprise and discomfort, into an embrace. She stiffened but didn’t pull away.

“A supply ship is due to dock in about twenty four hours now. We plan to be on it when it leaves again,” he murmured in a low voice near her ear.

She jerked away from him to study his face in disbelief. “Are you serious?” she whispered finally, unable to fully grasp that he was telling her she had a chance of leaving when she’d never thought to see the world outside of Phobos Prison again.

“Don’t whisper. Whispers carry and they denote secrecy.”

Rhea’s heart pounded uncomfortably in her chest with a mixture of fear and rising excitement. “This is what you and Raathe were talking about?”

His lips tightened at her mention of Raathe, but he nodded. “I have the code they needed—the last link between this cell block and the shuttle bay.”

Rhea swallowed with an effort around the emotion in her throat, trying to hold back the hope rising in her for fear she would somehow jinx them. “You’re taking me?”

Kyle tightened his arms around her, although he wasn’t completely sure himself of whether it was for her reassurance or his own. Raathe had had some damned convincing arguments against taking her, but although he could see that there was merit to his reluctance to take her, he didn’t like her chances if they left her. The attack by Coulter was enough to convince him she’d be better off with them whatever happened. There was dying and then there was
dying
. If they were blown up in the escape attempt, at least they’d never know what hit them. The things Rhea might face if they left her were far worse.

The shortage of life support wasn’t something he intended to trouble himself over. If it became necessary, he wasn’t going to lose sleep over it. He’d jettison Grimes and Cook. More than likely whatever they were in for, they should’ve been executed instead of sent to Phobos.

“At this point, I don’t know that any of us are going anywhere. We sure as hell won’t if they don’t lift the lockdown. The codes we have will only get us through the security doors, not out of the cells themselves. Besides, Raathe is in solitaire and he’s the only one of the five of us who can pilot the transport … unless you can?”

Dismay filled Rhea, but relief, too. They couldn’t leave Raathe behind. She knew, if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was the only one capable of piloting the ship they would’ve left him without a second thought. “I can’t,” she said with complete truth, although she would’ve gladly lied if she
had
been qualified as a pilot.

Kyle shrugged. “I guess we can’t do anything now, then, but wait and hope they lift the lockdown before our window of opportunity closes.”

Chapter Thirteen

It occurred to Rhea forcefully that Kyle had something specific in mind to do to while away the time. She thought he’d curled around her in a lover-like embrace to fool the guards if any should pass by, and she was certain that the low voiced conversation was from caution, but although he’d shifted his hips away as soon as his arousal had become evident, she’d felt his reaction to being close to her.

Well—close to a womanly body. She wasn’t conceited enough to think it was her in particular.

“You had me worried, baby,” he murmured, lifting a hand to lightly trace her bruised cheek.

She looked up at him questioningly, feeling her mouth go dry at the look in his eyes. “Did I?”

He swallowed audibly. “I hadn’t expected the fever. I figured I could deal with the rest.”

Surprise flickered through her, but she supposed it must have been unnerving to think she might worsen, might possibly even die on him. “I’m sorry,” she said a little weakly, having no idea how to respond except to apologize for being trouble for him. She paused a heartbeat and added, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

His gaze flickered over her face. “I wasn’t looking for thanks.”

“What were you looking for?”

He made a derisive sound. “Something I didn’t get,” he said cryptically, settling his palm along her cheek and tipping her face up to more fully meet his, “but I’m a man of infinite patience and determination, baby.”

His lips were warm, dry, firm against her own, his touch disarmingly gentle. She still winced slightly at the pain that went through her healing lip. He pulled away to study her. “Still hurts, huh?”

“A little,” she said apologetically.

His lips twisted. “Guess I’m not as patient as I thought.” He didn’t move away, but he didn’t try to kiss her again on the lips. When he moved in again, he traced a path along her cheek to her ear. A shiver went through her as she felt his heated breath on her ear. He brushed his hands along the pebbled skin of her arm as he sucked at her earlobe, arousing a fresh flock of goose-bumps along her chest that made her nipples peak and harden, stirring warmth in her belly.

She lay passively while he explored her ear and the sensitive skin below it, curious to know if she would find his touch as arousing as she had before, wondering if she’d only reacted as she had before because she’d known that Raathe watched. She discovered she did. By the time he’d thoroughly explored her neck and throat and ear and made his way across her cheek to her lips again she was thoroughly attuned to his touch, warm with burgeoning desire.

He lifted his head to study her face.

Rhea opened her eyes to look up at him.

His expression tautened. “Baby,” he murmured raggedly, settling his lips carefully on hers again.

She hardly noticed the faint twinge of pain as she opened her mouth to him, welcomed the heated dance of his tongue along her own and the awakening of her senses as she absorbed his unique essence, felt it intermingling with her own in a way that enervated and invigorated at the same time. Lifting her hands, she stroked them through his hair, smoothed her palms along his broad shoulders.

He broke the kiss, leaning away to rip the closure of his suit open with shaking hands, shrugging out of the upper half with obvious impatience. She reached for him while he struggled with it, skimming her palms over his hard, muscular male breasts. His flesh leapt and tensed beneath her touch.

Freeing his arms at last, he dove at her again, pressing her onto her back as he burrowed his face along her neck and sucked at the tender flesh there. The crisp hair of his chest and belly, lightly abrading her own breasts and belly as he moved restlessly against her, enriched her perceptions, sparking excitement well above the warm receptiveness she’d felt before. Her heart commenced to drumming a little faster in her chest. Her breath grew more labored.

He sought her lips again, coaxing her with his hungry need to join him, to feel the same excitement threading his veins. “Can’t wait,” he muttered when he broke the kiss and transferred the caress of his lips to her breasts, pulling hungrily at first one and then other as he shoved at his suit, trying to push it far enough down his hips to free his erection from the tangle of fabric and position himself between her thighs at the same time.

His urgency was contagious. She struggled to disentangle her legs from his and spread them for him, reached to help him with his clothing. He surged toward her the moment he’d managed to wedge his hips between her thighs. The head of his cock parted the lips of her sex and plowed along her cleft, sending sparks and jolts shooting through her from the nerve endings along the tender trail. She sucked in a sharp breath, lifted to meet him. Shaking, he reached between them, grasped his cock, and guided it in a downward path again that sent more jolts of exquisite sensation through her.

A sigh of relief escaped her when he found the place, surged against her to embed his flesh within the opening. He paused, panting for breath, struggling, she knew, to recapture his control. After a moment, he repositioned himself for leverage and pressed deeper, shaking so hard in his eagerness that she lifted her hands and stroked them soothingly, encouragingly along his shoulders and back. He paused. Lifting his head, he stared down at her, his eyes wild with his need, his breath hoarse, ragged.

Curling over her, he sought her lips again, kissing her briefly before he wrenched away from her once more, curling his hips to drive deeply. “It’s no use, baby,” he muttered feverishly. “I can’t hold it. I can’t. I want you too much. I’ll make it good for you next time. I swear it.”

Rhea felt her breath catch in her chest, felt a hard thrill rush through her at his words, the desperate need in his voice, in his movements as he set a frantic pace. It sent her soaring upward toward release … and she was still two paces behind him. The first flicker of warning hit her as he froze. She hovered, unable to reach her goal, struggling to pitch herself over the edge by sheer force of will. He uttered an animalistic growl and began to pump harder and faster into her. She focused, reaching, trying to ignore the fact that he was already shuddering and convulsing with his own release. His last grinding thrust pushed her over the edge. She gasped, arched against him as glorious convulsions of pleasure ripped through her.

Almost more relieved than blissful when the spasms began to wane, she went limp beneath him, striving to catch her breath—no easy feat with his weight settling more and more heavily against her. He gathered himself finally and shifted off of her, dragging her over as he rolled until she was plastered limply on top of him.

She dropped her cheek to his hard shoulder, smiling faintly to herself as she rose and fell with each gusty breath he dragged into his broad chest. He angled his head downward after a few minutes to look at her, lifting a hand to trace the faint curl of her lips. “You aren’t going to berate me for being an inconsiderate bastard,” he murmured, amusement, wariness, and curiosity threading his husky voice.

“I might if you’d left me hanging,” she murmured.

He shifted, dumping her on to the bed so that he could look at her. “I didn’t?”

She felt her smile widen. “You didn’t. You just tried.”

“I did not. Swear to god, baby.”

She cracked one eye open wide enough to give him a disapproving look. He grinned at her. “Damn, I’m good.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, I’m fast.”

“Same thing,” he said complacently.

She plucked at a chest hair.

“Ouch,” he complained obediently, rubbing the spot.

He lay quietly for a time, almost idly stroking a hand along her arm and shoulder. “Hell,” he muttered finally as if he’d suddenly remembered something, his hand stilling.

Drowsing, Rhea opened her eyes sleepily. “What?”

“I was counting on having makeup work to take care of.”

Confusion flickered through her before she deciphered the remark. She smiled faintly. “Were you?”

He shifted closer, nuzzling his cheek against hers and finally placing a light kiss on her shoulder. “If we get out of this alive ….”

Caught by some strange, indefinable note in his voice, Rhea pulled away to study his face. “What?” she asked when he didn’t continue.

“What do you think …? Do you think you might consider …? Fuck! Never mind,” he growled. “Bad timing! Shit!”

Rhea pushed herself up on one arm and studied his stony expression. “What is it?”

His gaze flickered over her face before he looked away again. “It’s stupid. Just forget it.”

Her instincts told her not to push it. She ignored them. “What?”

He dragged in a deep breath, seemed to consider it a moment, and finally met her gaze. “I want to contract with you.”

Rhea felt her jaw drop. “What did you say?” she asked after a prolonged moment, certain she must have misunderstood.

His expression hardened. “I told you it was stupid,” he said tightly.

She settled back, staring at the ceiling, trying to decide if she had misheard him. She didn’t see how she could have, though. “And you think that’s stupid?” she asked tentatively after some moments had passed.

He released a testy huff of breath. “Hell no! I think my fucking timing sucks!”

She did, too. Moreover, he was a felon, incarcerated for god only knew what—she didn’t. “You hardly even know me,” she said, voicing her thoughts aloud.

“I know what I want,” he growled. “Obviously, you don’t.”

She swallowed against a sudden knot of emotion in her throat at the hurt she saw in his eyes. The truth was, crazy as it might be, she wasn’t completely against the idea. She was inclined to think, though, that it was because nobody had ever wanted her badly enough to consider contracting with her. “That’s not fair and you know it,” she said angrily.

His expression hardened. “I don’t feel like being fucking fair, damn it!” He shook his head, knowing his outburst sounded as childish as it felt, torn between regret that he’d yielded to the impulse and the sense of desperation that had inspired it to begin with. He knew it was too fast, that he hadn’t given her time to come to terms with the idea. Hell, he hadn’t given her time to get used to him! But he’d known what he wanted almost from the moment he’d set eyes on her. He trusted his instincts, mostly because he’d never looked at any woman before in his life and thought, instantly, that’s the one I want, the one I need, the woman I don’t want to live without. Hell, he’d never even considered contracting with a woman before. It was significant in itself that
that
was what he wanted with her.