Starkissed
She's human, he's not, but together Leith and J'Qhir struggle to
survive on an alien world, defeat interstellar treachery from a mutual
enemy, and confront their growing attraction.
Starkissed
©2000 Lanette Curington
Leith McClure reluctantly takes over the family shipping business due to her father's illness. She is shocked to find her father has been trading with the Zi. When a trusted friend's betrayal leaves Leith and the Warrior of Zi marooned on a deserted planet, they must learn to overcome their differences to survive...and to explore their mutual attraction.
Warning: Graphic sex between a human woman and an alien male
who is anatomically different from human men!
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
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Starkissed
Copyright © 2000 by Lanette Curington
Cover by Christine Clavel
ISBN: 1-59998-721-X
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This title has been previously published, but Samhain is thrilled to have it now!
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: June 2007
Starkissed
Lanette Curington
Starkissed
5
Arreis aka Trader World
March 2308 TST (Terran Standard Time)
A tankard of pale green Hykaisian ale smashed into the wall as Leith McClure stepped into the dimly lit tavern. A few drops splashed onto her leather survival jacket.
She started to wipe them away with her bare hand, but the droplets bubbled and ate tiny holes in the sleeve of her favorite jacket.
“Don’t touch it, Leith!” Steve Hancock warned. “That stuff is acidic to anybody except Hykaisites.”
“So I noticed,” she murmured, watching the liquor ruin the black jacket that had been a Christmas present from her parents three Terran Standard years ago.
Two bodies sailed through the air a meter in front of them and crashed into a table in the center of the smoky room. The triangular table, reinforced to take such abuse, remained on its three legs. The two Peridots saved their drinks by holding them to the side. They shoved the bodies to the floor and continued their conversation between snorts.
The victory bellow of a rogue Hykaisite drowned out all other noises as a Numerian dancer drifted by, its holographic costume of interwoven light beams leaving a vapor trail behind. It halted in front of Steve, fondled his crotch, and whispered in his ear. He smiled and laughed but shook his head. The Numerian floated to Leith and raised its hand. Leith caught the Numerian’s wrist before it could touch her breast and indicated no with a quick jerk of her head. The Numerian shrugged and floated away.
The rogue Hykaisite ended his bellow with a coarse growl and beat his chest five times. Just as he settled down, an argument broke out in the corner where a group of Danid Hybrids played Martian poker.
“Explain to me again why we have to meet the buyer
here,
” Leith shouted to be heard above the noise.
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Lanette
Curington
Steve laughed. “Lighten up, Leith. Arreis is the hot spot of the galaxy. The planet isn’t a member of the Galactic Alliance, so anything goes.” His laughter died, and he gazed at her with eyes half-closed—a look he often wore when coming on to her. “If you’d let me, I could show you more interesting places than this.”
“Not in this dimension,” she snapped and turned away from him. She had never considered him as anything other than a friend, and his insinuations made her uncomfortable.
Steve moved around her until he faced her, only centimeters away. A red flush of fury replaced the expression she despised. “Someday you’ll regret saying no to me. And the day will come sooner than you think.”
Leith shook her head. She was tired of his ineffectual come-ons and sexual innuendos and the look that did not appeal to her at all. “Why don’t you call the Numerian? It might be impressed, but I’m not.”
Steve’s face twisted into a sneer. “At least the Numerian has an interest in sex.”
A twinge of uneasiness slipped up her spine. Steve became hostile at the first hint of a negative response to his advances. He knew the family business better than she, but she wondered if putting up with his attitude was worth the aggravation.
Leith didn’t like Arreis, more commonly known as Trader World, and its dens of iniquity where she floundered out of her element. She glanced at her Terran Standard watch, another gift from her parents. This one was meant to ease the transition from full-time student to running McClure Shipping. If she were back on Earth right now, she would be enjoying a lecture by a favorite instructor. The university—classes, lectures, and studying—was her world.
“But why
here?
” she persisted. Refusing to acknowledge his insult, which meant not acknowledging
him
, was the best way to get under his skin. “I know there are quieter places on Arreis. I saw several cafes and restaurants where we could meet without all the—the distractions.”
A chair flew across the room and disintegrated against the broad, muscular back of the Hykaisite. He turned his shaggy head and, with a war cry, jumped from his seat to charge the brawling Hybrids.
“There he is.” Steve nodded toward a table against the far wall. His anger had cooled, and he spoke to her in a friendlier tone. “Your father has always met this customer in this establishment. The Zi are fanatics for ritual and tradition.”
“Zi!” Leith grabbed Steve’s arm, stopping him in mid-stride. “Are you serious? The Galactic Alliance has sanctions against the Zi as well as the Crucians because of their continual state of war.”
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7
Steve shrugged. “Hey, their loss is our gain. Your father’s been dealing with the Zi for years. You’ll have to take it up with him. Me, I just follow orders.”
Too late now,
Leith thought and let his arm go. Oh, why hadn’t she asked Steve
who
they were meeting this time? Steve told her the appointment was with a valued customer and on Arreis as usual. Leith didn’t want to run the company and left nearly everything in Steve’s capable hands. When her parents said to follow Steve Hancock’s advice, that he knew McClure Shipping inside and out, Leith took them at their word.
So far, everything had gone smoothly. She followed Steve’s lead and let him handle the details. She wasn’t even curious enough to ask who the customer was or what cargo they carried. She never dreamed they would be trading illegally.
“That big yellow and brown fellow is the Rep. Oh, yes, the Paxian is here. The Paxian is always with him,” Steve commented as they waded across the room and dodged a staggering Hybrid. “The Rep is a little stuffy, and I hear they dominate their females, so he may take exception to your presence. If he refuses to deal with you, don’t antagonize him. I’ll handle it.”
Rep was a derogatory term for the Zi, who were humanoid in form but of saurian descent. Leith had never even seen a Zi. Not many people had because they were a closed and secretive culture and preferred not to mingle with off-worlders. Neither Zi nor Crux was a member of the Galactic Alliance, so very little was known about either of them and their cultures.
As Leith and Steve approached the table, the Zi and the Paxian stood.
The Zi was big, about 230 centimeters tall. High black boots with thick soles and heels added to his height. Dark gray trousers, war jacket, and gloves, tucked into a broad belt around his waist, were made of a durable wool-like fabric. For extra warmth, Leith assumed, if he remained true to his cold-blooded ancestry. A hexagonal patch of glittery gold-on-black set high on each shoulder, their symbols indecipherable to her.
Yellow and brown were too bland to describe his coloring. Tawny, Leith decided, and umber. Both colors etched over his glabrous head and hands, the only visible parts of his anatomy, as if a master artist had painted him tawny, then shaded the subtle scaling of his skin with dark umber.
Leith’s gaze lingered over his elongated face, taking in the chiseled contours of chin and jaw and the arched ridges protecting the tympanic membrane on each side of his head. His brow protruded slightly, and Leith suppressed the urge to reach up and run her fingers along the crest. In the sweeping hollows created by prominent cheekbones and crested brow, exotic saurian eyes of clear amber stared back at her unblinking. She had the feeling he had studied her as meticulously as she had him.
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8
Lanette
Curington
“Where isss Cameron?” he hissed.
“My father is ill.” She took a deep breath and wished she were anywhere in the universe but here. “For now, I’m handling the business.”
The Paxian’s sleek black feathers ruffled. He wore a voluminous cloak to protect his wings.
“I am called Corru.” Most Paxians chose names that were easy to pronounce because the Pax language consisted of birdlike twitterings that most could not mimic. “This is Commander J’Qhir, the Warrior of Zi.”
“Leith McClure.” Before she could decide if offering her hand would be a requirement or an insult, Steve propelled her into the seat closest to the wall. He took the chair next to her as Commander J’Qhir reclaimed his. The Paxian drew heavy curtains together, enclosing the table to ensure their privacy, then sat down.
The Commander’s saurian eyes had not left her. She, too, found it impossible to look away from him.
“I have alwaysss dealt only with Cameron,” he said stiffly.
Leith hid her disappointment. The way his eyes penetrated hers she had expected him to say something quite different. She shrugged, trying to show she didn’t care one way or another. It would be a relief not to have to deal with the Zi at all, but she couldn’t reveal even a hint of that feeling. “As I said, my father is ill. I’m in charge, and I have the cargo. Take it or leave it. I’m sure we can find another buyer.”
She waited for him to call her bluff.
Beside her, Steve fidgeted nervously. “Now, wait a minute. We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot here—or claw, as the case may be,” he said and laughed hollowly.
The Commander blinked once and slid his eyes, void of amusement, to rest on Steve.
Leith had the impression that the Commander would like nothing better than to take his
“claws” and wrap them around Steve’s neck for that remark.
Surreptitiously, she glanced at the Zi’s hands resting tensely on the table.
Remarkably human in shape and form, they couldn’t really be referred to as claws. He had four fingers of varying lengths and an opposable thumb, but his nails were blunt talons and tinted pale gold.
Suddenly she was aware that he was looking at her again, and she met his gaze boldly. “Do you want to go through with the deal or not? If not, there’s no point in wasting our time—yours or mine.”
Leith was surprised how harsh she sounded, but refused to make amends. Perhaps the Commander would take offense and call off the arrangements himself. She started to rise.
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The Paxian made a chittering noise, and the Commander looked at him, nodding solemnly.
“I have no time to argue with younglingsss. The cargo isss needed by my people.”