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The thrill of anticipation melted away. Duvall McCord had nearly caught him, so he needed to be more careful in the future.
He looked over the tiny communicator in his hands. That message had been a piece of genius. His plans to kill the woman would keep them all running in circles while he did his own job.
His task completed for the moment, he opened the door and moved toward the desk overloaded with work. He needed to blend in with them for a little longer. But oh, he would show them all. They would know and recognize his genius in time.
* * * *
Grayson paced, Elara looked grave, and Duvall just felt tired and more than slightly frustrated with the latest turn of events. The crew had been informed of the security status. No one worked or moved around the ship alone, not under any circumstances. Those few he trusted implicitly—and there could only be a limited number—he had taken into confidence.
He saw Mellissa looking at the hurt and anger in their eyes. He knew she felt helpless. But there wasn’t much she could do for the moment. He’d already learned that she hated feeling useless.
Duvall’s Chief Security Officer, Chowd, was the last to join them for the security briefing. As the tall, thin man took his place at the table Duvall’s blood boiled. They had an infiltrator. He felt a betrayal of immense proportions. He would deal with the issue swiftly and efficiently, but the fire of anger still burned him.
One exemplary officer was dead, and the group he trusted was now pared down to the five he knew almost as well as himself.
“Please take a seat.” He waited as the others lowered themselves into their chairs.
Mellissa bit her lip, her hands clenched together, and he acknowledged that his need to protect her and keep her close made no sense. But he’d long ago learned to trust his intuition, and right now it screamed she needed protection.
Chowd frowned. “Where is the senior comm officer and the engineer?”
He’d expected that question. “The comm officer is only on his first tour in this post. He lacks experience.” It was a weak answer, but the best he could give for the moment. “As to the engineer…” His shrug drew all eyes. “I don’t know him. Until I’m sure of his allegiance, I believe it’s best to keep our information among us.”
Elara opened her mouth, and he knew she was about to argue the point. He shook his head and she subsided.
“We have an infiltrator. The problem is, with so many crewmembers from different backgrounds, so many we’ve not personally served with, it’s impeding our ability to investigate.” He took a moment to balance his thoughts. “We’ve encouraged multi-tasking and taken on those from outside our own… Dammit, it could be anyone.”
Duvall considered carefully the need to use the skills and abilities of those he trusted, the crewmembers who would follow his instructions implicitly and ensure tasks were carried out without query. They needed a quick resolution to this issue. This time the damage sustained was minimal and repairable. Next time, though, they could have trouble. Thank Eshra the matrix remained intact. If that had been damaged…
No need to consider what could have gone wrong; enough had happened now. Focus on the facts, he reminded himself as he pulled himself up to his full height. Time to begin investigating.
He could see Mellissa watching their faces, saw the movements that indicated their knowledge and their willingness to follow any order, including that of shoot to kill. He had no question that they would follow this through to the bitter end.
She got up and reached for a glass of water. No one had time to clean up between the alarm and this meeting. The air still full of stale smoke, wafting from clothes worn in a stressful situation. The scent of sweat also filled the air, astringent. The jerky movements told him that she neared the end of her emotional tether.
“We need to bait a trap before we reach the Admiralty. Mellissa, I don’t want to ask this, but I need you to agree to be the bait.”
She looked shocked at his suggestion. He threw the piece of card he had picked up onto the table.
“I found this there,” he stated baldly. “I don’t care who it is, but they are baiting us.”
His stomach churned at this necessity, but something had to happen. They had to find some way to flush out the one willing to let his crew, his people, die. The one who had made this threat.
Chowd and Grayson both investigated the card. Chowd pulled out a palm-sized unit, checked the note with it, and passed it to Duvall again, without a word.
Duvall waited for Mellissa to glance in his direction. “I need to invent a situation where I have to leave you alone. I won’t be far, and you will be safe. But I need you to understand that there is still an element of danger.” He knew what he was asking her to do, could see in her face the second that it occurred to her. Duvall hoped she understood his frustration.
Banked feelings bloomed when she straightened her back and said the one word that changed everything. “Yes.”
He looked at her. She needed to understand the danger she agreed to place herself in. His shoulders ached from fighting the tension. She looked around the room, and he could see that she knew everyone there was watching her, counting on her.
Never before had he felt so powerless, but they needed to know who posed a danger to them before they struck again. Next time they might succeed in either killing her or killing them all. Neither option would happen if they pre-empted the move successfully.
Mellissa’s lips quivered as she spoke. “I know you need this finished, so what do I need to do?”
He relaxed slightly. “I need to leave you alone and attend to an emergency, something we can cook up.” He turned to Chowd. “How long do you need to set this up?”
Chowd considered the request. “At least another six to seven hours. But in the interests of not putting them on their guard, I think it’s something we need to leave at least another day or even two. We need them to think they got away with it.” Looking at Grayson, he asked, “Can you arrange for the incident?”
Grayson thought for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I believe that we can make it look like the incident that previously compromised the enviro drives. We’ve been having intermittent issues, so that can be made to look believable, with only myself and Chowd to set it up.”
Chowd scanned Mellissa up and down. “I can arrange for a guard I trust to be stationed in the crawl space over the cabin. I have one in mind, and I would trust him with my life. We can also place one in the captain’s cabin if she is within the ready room, which I believe would be most easily defensible.” He looked at Duvall as he said that. “While I would normally suggest a Grade A secura-shield too, we only have one on board, and I would prefer to keep it as an emergency backup precaution.”
Duvall stiffened. “What do you mean?” he demanded, feeling agitated.
“We had not finished accessing security supplies when the order came to ship out. I left you a message.” The discomfort was clear in his short answer. He shifted. “We had minimal time at Aenna to complete the provisioning once the initial order came through that we had a mission. They only had the one, and the Admiralty experienced some supplier issues. They had more shipping within a short period of time. We missed the shuttle by thirteen hours.”
Duvall considered the situation. What else hadn’t been fully provisioned? Concern grew and he made a mental note to contact Admiralty when this mission was done. Sending them out without adequate security provisioning at this stage was something he didn’t want to contemplate. Together with the interception of the transmissions Meredith had contacted him about, he began to wonder just how deep this deceit went.
He had so many issues to contend with. Meredith, his sister, in danger, a possible infiltrator aboard the Elector, and a woman driving him crazy, not to mention flying an ill-provisioned ship hurtling through the slipstream and time. The Empire was always in danger, and yet here he sat until they either got to the gate or hunted out the infiltrator aboard the vessel.
&nb
sp; Admiralty’s whole diplomatic solution had just imploded, he mused to himself. When he finally got back to Admiralty, his report to Elphin wouldn’t pull any punches. His face tightened further.
“Captain, may I suggest we all get a good night’s sleep and finish the planning process tomorrow when we’re fresh? That would also allow time to consider all the aspects and perhaps gather further information,” Elara suggested in a sympathetic voice. “We’re all tired and not thinking clearly. As the resident SurgiTech, I recommend a minimum of four hours sleep. Six would be better of course.” She looked at Duvall, and he knew she spoke the truth. Grayson chose well, he thought.
“The voice of reason, as always, Elara. We’ll meet back here at 0700 hours. Dismissed.”
The crew rose and filed out of the room.
* * * *
Mellissa hovered against the wall furthest from the door as it closed after the retreating crewmembers. She couldn’t sit any longer. Her agitation during the discussions had played through her mind, increasing her uncertainty. Duvall had asked her for help; she feared the task he’d asked her to complete.
Breathing deeply helped marginally, but her stomach still turned knots as she faced Duvall. On his face, she read the weariness and desire. Hungry was the only word that came to mind when she saw his face, stripped of the mask of civilized behavior, and she could see the instincts of a predator on show. It didn’t shock her. Instead, she felt herself drawn deeper into his web.
“We should eat.” That was all he said, but his eyes invited something so much more.
So clear. So green. So fathomless.
He turned toward his commdesk and ordered a meal, requesting that it be sent to his office. He spun around and she shivered in reaction to the promise she saw in his eyes. She knew the instant he saw it. The involuntary movement of her body must have signaled. His face tightened further as his eyes burned with passion. Her body heated in anticipation. Time to take a chance. Life was fleeting, and dammit, if she was going to die soon, she wanted to taste him at least once, and by heaven, she knew he wanted her too.
She smiled. In the midst of such danger, a moment had come. Theirs. She decided to grab it with both hands.
Dinner arrived and proved both an interesting and excruciating affair. How could salad have such overtones? She would certainly never look at it in the same way again. Each mouthful filled with expectation while their gazes caught. Unspoken promises passed between them. The experience became foreplay. Each swallow of drink, every taste enhanced her desire. He seduced her without touch and burned her from the inside out.
By the time the cooling sorbet came, she squirmed in her chair. The discussion was sparse; neither able to break the mood. Ahead of them lay only promise.
As he spooned the sorbet to his mouth, hers dried. His tongue flicked out, and he licked the small ice crystals. Inside her belly the fire erupted, stronger and brighter than ever before. His eyes smoked in their intensity, and his gaze glittered with knowledge.
Extending a hand, he asked her without words.
Mellissa answered in the curving of her lips.
They rose together, moving away from the table and toward each other. He reached a hand to her. Touched her face softly. Framed it and moved in to kiss her lips. Each action controlled. Just like a predator, she thought.
When their lips touched, she exploded. Their lips opened, and tongues tangled. His mouth was dark, his taste spicy. One hand rose to the back of her head; the other went around her. Her hands, neither still nor hesitant, rose to his shoulders, gripping him close.
Their bodies melded to each other. His mouth slipped from her mouth, across her jaw to her neck. She moaned her pleasure, her head thrown back and her eyes closed.
She savored the warmth of his mouth on her flesh. Her hands roamed over his chest, feeling the tensile strength beneath her fingers. She pulled at his shirt, wanting to touch his flesh. Wanting him as much as he wanted her. She tugged with motions jerky as her hunger matched his.
His hands had moved to her waist, slipping under her shirt and roaming over her skin, the torture so exquisite. Tongues of fire followed in the wake of his fingers. She wanted him to touch her everywhere. Her breasts tightened.
She leaned back. Slowly, oh so slowly, he found the buttons on her shirt, slipping them through the holes. She felt the sense of release ripple through her body as each in turn exposed more skin. Her white bra molded to her breasts, peaked nipples clearly outlined. She watched as he stared, taking in their lush bounty.
“So beautiful,” he murmured. His hand slid from her collarbone to cup her breasts through the cotton as they ached for his touch.
“I want to see you,” she said, the throaty voice unrecognizable.
His hands left her breasts, brushed fingers away as he gripped his shirt. A single sharp action and buttons flew through the air as the cotton thread gave under the onslaught. Densely-packed, muscular skin bared to her sight. She hissed out her pleasure through clenched teeth.
He reached for her, holding her shoulders and pulling her close. Once more, their mouths mated. This time the press of his flesh to hers ignited a fire. She gasped.
He pulled her toward his cabin. Beyond lay a dimness. A bed, soft and welcoming. They reached it and fell together over the edge. Once more, he pulled her close.
“By Eshra! You are truly beautiful,” he muttered against her mouth.
She opened hers and scorched him with lips and tongue. Duvall rolled her onto her back, releasing her mouth slowly, nipping at her skin, little nibble bites across her jawline that made her shudder. Her hands held on to his shoulders, almost mindless now, gripping and squeezing in demand.
Oh God! She wanted this man. Yearned to feel the power of his body against hers, within hers, moving and soothing the fire that licked at her nerves.
Duvall pulled her up and reached behind to unfasten the clasp of her bra. He looked into her eyes, and the intensity in his gaze branded her. She took her opportunity and laved his skin, everywhere she could reach. The saltiness of his body enticed as the scent of arousal grew around them.
She brushed soft fingertips over his nipples. The small, brown discs reacted by peaking with each touch. Now came his turn to moan.
Her bra fell away, and finally her breasts were exposed to him, not small, but lush and pink tipped. He sighed and his eyes glinted. Her breasts had grown so very tight, the pink tips hard and aching, ready for the touch of his mouth. She watched his gaze narrow as he leaned toward one, opened his mouth, and drew the tip in.
The pleasure exploded as his tongue rubbed while he sucked. His hands didn’t stop, slid over her back and down and around her waist to the button of her pants. She panted as he unfastened it, slipping the material down her legs.
She moved eager hands down his front too, needing to feel him and touch his length, so hard and yet silken, the soft skin with an iron hardness she knew lay just beyond the fabric. He pushed her panties to one side so he could find her core. She was wet. Hot and eager for him. Mellissa allowed her hips to move. Inviting. Tempting. Calling.
He rubbed his hands over the hair he found. Explored. Touched. Opened.
He found the small nub and touched it. Rubbed it.
She bucked. “Oh God!” she moaned, burning and writhing under his touch.
He drove two fingers into her sheath while she writhed, mindless with need. Her body gripping powerfully as she panted.
“I want you,” he growled.
She tore at his pants, pulled on them, needing him, every delicious inch.
With a bark of laugher he pulled away and she mewled the loss. Duvall stood to remove what clothing he had left. Mellissa got a brief view of his nakedness before he tore her panties down her legs and flung them over his shoulder.
Reaching for her again, he covered her, and she tugged at him, loving the feeling of bare skin against skin. She grabbed his erection, finally feeling the glorious length of him in her hands, so tight and powerf
ul, and he grunted as she traced her fingers over him. Her hands quested, found the base, and tested his weight. “So big.”
He groaned and moved above her as she felt her way back to the tip, touching and exploring him. A droplet of moisture seeped out, coating the slit of his cock, and she smiled a feline smile of satisfaction. He was as wild for her as she was for him.
His fingers slid within her core and moved. Pleasure coiled deep in her belly while her breath fled. The sensual friction continued, and she shifted, undulating beneath him.
The longer he teased, the more urgent her desire, and Mellissa was sure she’d explode if he didn’t fill her soon. She hooked her legs around him in demand.
“Yes.” His grunt was all she needed as he positioned himself at her entrance. Duvall gave one push and joined their bodies.
She nearly came as the pressure of his entering surprised her, filled her. Made her whole.
They moved. He rubbed against her. She moaned as he gasped.
Hands gripped. Bodies grew slick with sweat. Faster and faster, they moved together. Harder. Demanding. The thrust and parry continued until finally she came apart in his arms, her body milking his before finally releasing.
So glorious.
He followed with one more thrust, clinging tight as the sound of heavy breathing filled the air. Duvall released himself within her, the feel of him jetting amazed her. They held on as their heartbeats slowed.
* * * *
Duvall rested while Mellissa slept. He held her in his arms, dazed by the pleasure. Never had he experienced anything like that before, the pressure building or the primal need to brand and hold. To claim her.
“How can I follow through with tomorrow?” His mutter broke the silence, but another question rose. How could he not?
Inhaling her scent, he nestled her against his heart, feeling her softness. It was sobering to realize that whatever emotion it was that had taken up residence inside him could cause him to question his actions. She wasn’t a warrior. She was soft and womanly.