Rebel (29 page)

He grinned. “Convenient, isn’t it? Your scent is impossible for me to resist, and you need me to get you through pregnancy without puking your guts out every morning.” Onca had never considered sex to be therapeutic, but apparently, it was.

“And I’m sure you’re more than willing to provide me with as much of your
snard
as I want.”

“I can’t imagine ever saying no to you.” The truth of those words stunned him. Her lovely face, her intoxicating scent, the sound of her voice—all of those things and more—were as vital to him as the air he breathed. He pulled her up from the desk and into his arms, covering her face and neck with fervent kisses.

She threaded her fingers through the hair at his temples, somehow turning even that simple touch into a loving caress. “I can’t wait to spend the night up in the trees with you. Whose idea was it to turn this place into a forest anyway?”

“Tarq’s. He loves the outdoors, and he and Jerden remembered Zetith better than most of us.” He shrugged. “This decor certainly sets ours apart from the other brothels in the district, but I have to take their word for it that this is what Zetith looked like.”

Tipping her head to the side, she studied him with sympathetic eyes. “That bothers you, doesn’t it?”

The sudden pang near his heart and the sting of tears spoke for him. Swallowing hard, he tried to turn away, but her light grasp prevented him.

She nodded slowly. “More than you’re willing to admit.” Her eyes took on a contemplative cast as she trailed her fingertips along the side of his face, tracing the line of his jaw. “I don’t remember it, either. It was blown to bits before I was born. According to what Captain told me, if my family had been able to elude the bounty hunters for a few more months, they would probably still be alive. I wouldn’t have grown up on the street, and you and I would never have met.” She paused as a smile curved her lips. “At least, not like this.”

He drew in a ragged, somewhat painful breath. “Then at least one good thing came out of all that tragedy.” Her steady gaze soothed him like nothing else could. “I’m so sorry you lost your family, Kim. I know I can’t replace them, and I don’t even have a name to give you. But I—”

Tears pooled in her soft brown eyes as she pressed a finger to his lips. “How about if I give you mine?”

Obviously she’d been right about how important his identity was to him because Kim’s offer of her name brought more than tears to Onca’s eyes. Deep, gut-wrenching sobs racked his body, and he clung to her like a lifeline. Stroking his hair, she spoke in soft whispers, promising her eternal love and everything that went along with it.

Every living Zetithian carried scars from their world’s demise. Onca’s were simply less obvious. Beneath his facade of casual indifference was a lost, wounded soul who needed love as much as anyone—perhaps even more.

Not that she’d had much experience with love herself. Her heart had been untouched when she met him, but now that she had found her mate, the attraction was impossible to deny. The bond between them was already so strong she couldn’t imagine going on without him.

As his sobs subsided, she brushed away his tears. “Why can’t we stay at the Palace until Jack and Leroy arrive? You said he was an arms dealer. With enough firepower, they could fight their way in here, pick us up, and take us straight to Terra Minor.”

“Maybe,” he conceded. “But they have their own livelihoods to consider. They’re traders, and Rhylos is the hub of commerce in this sector.”

“Doesn’t being Zetithian count for anything? There are so few of us left. Surely no one would risk killing more of us—would they?”

“Depends on who’s calling the shots. Some people wouldn’t give a damn.”

“Guess that’s why we need public opinion on our side.”

“Yeah.” He drew himself upright. “I’d better get back at it.”

“Need any help?”

He winced. “I hate to say it, but we’d probably get more done if we didn’t work together for now.”

“You’re right.” With extreme reluctance, she released him and reached for her clothes. There would be plenty of time for that later.

I
hope.

Truth be told, she didn’t know what to expect from the days ahead. This lawyer friend of Val’s seemed like the best person to help them, but since they truly didn’t know who they were fighting, the outcome was anyone’s guess.

“Want some lunch?” she asked.

“Sure. What’ve we got?”

“You’ll have to ask Val. Given his fondness for nuts and berries, no telling what he’s been bringing in.”

Not bothering to put on his pants, Onca pulled up a chair, sat down at the desk he had so recently taken her to the stars on, and tapped into the comlink. “I’ll call the Norludians. They’ll know what to bring.”

She bit her lip, unable to stifle a chuckle. “Maybe they should bring you some clothes.”

“Not necessary,” Onca replied, his gaze intent on the viewscreen. “I’m not cold.”

“That’s not what I meant. We have children out there. Considering what my scent does to you, I think you’ll need clothes.”

The scowl he shot her should have set her on fire—and it did, although perhaps not in the manner intended. She was almost afraid to look at his dick.

“Oh, all right.” He snatched up his pants, grumbling. “If I can get the damn things on, that is. Maybe I should get some of the stretchy kind Val wears.”

“Stretchy might be more comfortable, but it wouldn’t camouflage anything.” Especially not something as hard to miss as his erection.

“True. Tight undies and a kilt might be better.”

She arched a brow. “A kilt?”

“A plaid skirt worn by Scottish men on Earth. Very old school—but terribly practical, seeing as how they didn’t wear anything underneath them.” His cock folded neatly up against his belly as he zipped up the fly.

“How far away do I need to be for that to go back down?”

“I dunno.” He glanced down at the huge bulge and shrugged. “On another planet, maybe?”

With an exasperated sigh, she headed for the door. “Not likely.” She didn’t even want to be in another room, let alone another planet. Being mates could be inconvenient at times.

“Kim?”

She paused in the doorway.

“Thank you. Shrovenach is a fine name. I’ll try to be a credit to it.”

“You already are.” Smiling, she gazed at him through a shimmer of tears. “My father would’ve been very proud of what you’ve done.”

“Sure he wouldn’t think I’m too old for his daughter?”

“No. But he might have a problem with your tendency to harp on things that don’t matter.” With a wink, she added, “Work on it?”

“I’ll do my best.”

***

Onca wasn’t sure crying like a baby was the most auspicious beginning for his new name. Then again, he didn’t intend to make a habit of it.

He had never cried for the loss of his family name—or his family, for that matter. Having fond memories of people he’d never known didn’t make any sense at all. Probably half the girls rescued from the Den were in the same boat. No family. No home. No names. At least their homeworlds still existed. Once he’d sorted out this mess, he would help each one of them to find their own way in whatever life they chose—on whatever planet they wished.

Dax and Jack would help. Dax specialized in taking people anywhere they wanted to go for no more than they could afford to pay, and Jack had a soft spot for strays. Now that she didn’t have as many stray Zetithians to concern herself with, she might be willing to give him a hand with the orphans of other species.

In the meantime, he busied himself by calling up the Norludians for more food, ordering clothes and bedding for the children, and buying enough kitchen equipment to start a restaurant.

Rashe stood guard with his pistol in one hand and his tomahawk in the other while the jittery deliverymen installed the stove. “Bunch of chicken-shits if you ask me,” he muttered as he marched them out the front entrance.

“Too bad Shemlak isn’t here,” Onca remarked. “We could use his help cooking for this gang.”

“Shemlak?” Roncas echoed. “Darconians don’t actually
cook
anything. All he does is wash the fruit and put it on a plate.”

She had a point. “Guess I’m elected, then. It’s been a while, but I still remember how to make enough pizza for an army.”

Roncas shuddered. “Might want to stick with soup, Boss. I’ve tasted your pizza. Not sure their digestive systems can handle it.”

“I can leave off the jalapeños,” Onca insisted.

“The Scorillian wouldn’t mind,” Rashe pointed out. “They like spicy junk food.”

“Junk food?” Onca gasped. “My pizza is
not
junk food. It’s very nutritious. Tomato sauce, cheese, pepperoni, onions—”

“And about a kilo of Tumerlian pepper,” Roncas said. “Took two days for the swelling in my lips to go down after the last time I tried it.”

Onca threw up his hands. “On the ship we had to make do with whatever food we could get. Sometimes spicing it up was the only way to make it edible.”

“Yes, but we don’t have that problem now,” Roncas said. “You can put all the pepper you want on yours. Just don’t make the rest of us eat it.”

“Oh, all right,” Onca snapped. “You know, when I was a kid, we took turns doing the cooking. Might as well start now.” He turned to the throng of children scattered about the grassy floor of the Palace. “Okay, gang! I need five volunteers for chef duty. Cassie, you take their names and we’ll start a rotation. This is a cooperative venture, not a soup kitchen.”

“Too bad we’re not bringing in any money,” Roncas muttered. “These kids will eat up your fortune in no time.”

Onca had a feeling the current situation wouldn’t last that long. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Until then, we have to work together.”

With any luck, the smell of baking pizza would overpower Kim’s scent. Apparently the tryst in the office hadn’t helped a bit because his dick still reacted with a vengeance anytime she passed by. He kept telling himself he only needed to hold out until the kids went to sleep. Then he could be with her all night.

Damn. I sound like a parent already.

He was beginning to understand how Amelyana must have felt with so many children in her care. Granted, she hadn’t done it alone—her Zetithian mate and another Terran couple had helped her—but the children had all seen her as their mother. She had dedicated her entire life to them, working tirelessly to keep them safe—even stealing when she had to—and doing her best to see that they were educated.

Onca spent the rest of the afternoon teaching the new cooks, thankful that he had something to occupy his mind—even something as simple as kneading pizza dough—otherwise the sense of unease would’ve been unbearable. Anara had given him no instructions, only telling Val that she would study the case while en route to Damenk. It was like waiting for a verdict he was powerless to influence.

At least, not
yet.

***

Darkness fell over the Palace, leaving only the stars twinkling overhead as Kim gazed out over the sea of sleeping children, knowing that, like herself, they probably felt safer than they had in years—perhaps even for the first time.

Onca had given them that security. He was a hero to these young souls, whether he saw himself as such or not. True, he’d had help, but that didn’t matter to them.
He
was the one who had gone into the Den alone.
He
was the one who had welcomed the slave girls and every other homeless child into the Palace, giving them more in one day than most of them had ever had in their entire lives. He was the one who had rescued
her
, capturing her heart and teaching her what it meant to love and be loved in return.

He’d kept one riser clear, and as she stepped onto the grassy platform, he activated the controls that took them up into the trees. Hovering high above the forest floor, they were alone, isolated on an island in the sky, surrounded by rustling leaves and tiny, winking lights.

“Oh, wow,” she whispered. “The lights…are they alive?”

Onca shook his head. “The butterflies are real, but the lights aren’t. They’re supposed to be like fireflies. I’ve never seen the real ones. They’re indigenous to Earth—something Amelyana told us about. We thought it would add a nice touch.”

Kim agreed. The effect was magical, making the building an attraction in and of itself. “You know, people would probably pay good money to spend the night here,” she said, recalling Shemlak’s comment.

“I thought about that—which is another reason I haven’t sold it yet.”

“Do you think it could generate enough income to take care of all these kids?”

“I doubt it—at least, not the kind of money we made when there were three of us working here. We installed six platforms, hoping to recruit more guys from the ship—but no such luck. They were smarter than we were.”

“How so?”

He rolled his eyes. “They found mates—and they weren’t as greedy.”

“Was it truly greed?”

“Maybe not,” he admitted. “Growing up on a ship where the men outnumber the women kinda skews your perspective.” He paused, frowning. “Did I ever tell you—? No, I don’t suppose I did, although you might’ve guessed it. The girls on the ship never wanted me, and when Jerden came up with the idea, I jumped at the chance. I’ve never really been sure why. I wasn’t the only virgin on that ship when it landed. We used to call Dax the Great Virgin—and he did just the opposite of what I did. Of course, his problem was that very few women ever smelled good to him, so he had no choice but to wait for the right girl. I fucked anyone willing to pay a thousand credits.”

“I can’t imagine anyone not wanting you as her mate.”

He shrugged. “Maybe it was because they knew I didn’t care whether they wanted me or not.” His gaze shifted to become fixed on hers, his eyes shining in the darkness. “But I
did
care. My fault was in caring too much.”

Kim understood him now. She had known the love of a family—her mother had sacrificed her own life to save her daughter’s—but Onca hadn’t. He might have grown up knowing what his parents had done to save him, but the
idea
of being loved wasn’t quite the same as the actual experience. Being one child among many, he’d never known the kind of unconditional love children need in order to thrive. Never having received it, he had shunned that love as something he didn’t want and didn’t need—but he craved it anyway.

“I’m not sure it’s possible to care too much. How do you feel now?”

“Like I’ve finally found what I was looking for—
you
.”

Holding out her arms, she smiled. “Then you
have
been waiting for me. You just didn’t know it.”

***

In an instant, Onca was in her embrace, covering her face with desperate kisses, holding her close as heat surged through him like a wildfire. Kim was his. He couldn’t lose her now.

“We’ll get through this,” he promised. “Then we can be together forever.”

He had no idea how long it would take. Being apart from her for a day or even an hour was unbearable, but he could endure anything as long as she would be waiting for him.

Lying on a grassy bower beneath the stars, he found solace in her smile, warmth in her embrace, and love in her kisses. She had changed him. In that one brief, shining moment when her eyes first met his, his fate had been sealed, his destiny determined. The past was forgotten. Their love for each other was all that mattered now.

Her touch excited as well as soothed him as she removed his clothing with tiny, deft fingers. She only looked like a fragile flower. There was fire and steel in her, and yet she had a softness about her that beckoned to him as he pushed her own clothing aside. As she welcomed him into the place where he was loved, her heat surrounded him, imbuing every stroke, every thrust, and every touch with pleasure.

When she reached her first climax, her slick inner muscles tightened around him, her scent engulfing him like a tidal wave. Purring, he let his cock dance slowly inside her, eliciting even more moans of passion and delight. He captured her lips with a kiss, tasting their sweetness before moving down the slope of her neck to her shoulder. Her delicate breasts begged for his caress, and he teased her nipples, noting that they already seemed larger, darker than before.

Her sharp inhale made him pause. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”