The Intergalactic Duke's Inconvenient Engagement Page 3

  The girl—she was very small and young and pale—hung limp in the Thorkon’s grip, her eyes rolling sideways as if to avoid looking at the bore of the blaster near her temple.

  “Stand down,” Raz snapped. “This is a rescue.”

  “They attacked you,” the sec-off said.

  “That one didn’t,” Raz pointed out reasonably. “And I took care of the one that did.”

  That one was pulling herself upright by the edge of the planter, and she glowered at him but didn’t try to get out, her gaze sliding uneasily between him, the first female, and the frightened one. He realized she wanted to be tough but was no warrior despite her imperious size. And for all his inheritance, he knew uncomfortably how that felt.

  He scowled back. These larfing Earth girls were dredging up miserable memories that didn’t help him at all.

  At his furious glare, the female who’d stood there like a lure while her fellow Earthers stalked him spread her hands in front of her, patting the air lightly as if she could soothe his anger. “Don’t… Don’t hurt Trixie,” she said softly. “Lishelle, stay right there. Everyone…just…let’s stay cool.”

  “It will be the ambient background temperature of the universe in here—which is to say approaching absolute zero—when I vent the station,” he growled. “Why did you attack me? Are you Blackworm’s brides?”

  “Brides?” She recoiled. “No! We…we were imprisoned here, against our will.”

  “I told you we’re here to rescue you.” He couldn’t hold back the insulted note in his accusation.

  “But why would we believe you?” Her voice held its own plaintive tone.

  He straightened in affront. “Because I said it.”

  She stared at him. “I don’t know you.”

  “True enough.” His own people didn’t even know him, not when he’d be gone so long. And this mission—to prove that he could guide them as well as his sire—was larfed sideways. “I am Aelazar Amrazal Thorkonos, Duke of Azthronos, Blood Champion of Zalar, Avatar of Azjor, God of Oaths.”

  Her lashes fluttered in bafflement when she blinked. “Okaaaaay. And yet somehow, after all that…I feel like now I know you even less.”

  He swallowed a chuckle. “Once again, true enough. You can call me…Raz.”

  “Your Grace,” the sec-off hissed.

  Raz waved at the other Thorkon imperiously. “Let her go. Trixie, yes? Put little Trixie down. And please assist Lishelle out of the planter.”

  “I don’t need him. I’m not little.” The tall Earther clambered out of the container, her long legs clearing the edge easily although she had to tug down the hem of the shirt.

  And Raz noticed she didn’t put down the small weapon. “I ask that you not attack me again.”

  She stared at him through narrowed eyes. “Just making up for missed opportunities.”

  He gave her a nod. “You tried to escape Blackworm? That is commendable.”

  “We failed,” Lishelle said curtly.

  The little one, Trixie, sidled away from her guard with a sidelong glance, tucking herself closer to Lishelle as two other Earth females crept out of the purple forest to join them. All five life signs accounted for. “He kept us asleep,” she said softly. “Most of the time. We’d still be there if not for Rayna.”

  Raz gave her a short bow. “Lady Rayna. It speaks well of you that you sought to rescue your fellow prisoners. Although I was coming for you, so your failure was inconsequential.”

  “Inconse…” She stiffened, and the few extra inches her spine lengthened made her shirt shorter, revealing an inappropriate—and intriguing—expanse of tawny-hued skin below the hem. “I’m not a lady.”

  Well, that was good to know… He forced himself to focus on not her thighs, even if they were as enchanting as the little soonyili birds that turned flower nectar into ghost-mead. “I meant it as a sign of respect, since you are leader of your people here.”

  “What? No. Nope.” She shook her head, making her tangled hair flap around her face. “Not a lady, not a leader. I’m just…me.”

  “Rayna,” he said softly, ending her inexplicable tirade. “Very well. I will drop the honorific if that is more to your planetary cultural standards.”

  “So…” Lishelle drawled. “We’re in space. Like, outer space.”

  For all her bluster, Raz noted how her hand shook around the piece of glass. “Specifically, an illegal space station on the edge of a black hole.” He gestured overhead, aware of the rest of the away team joining them in the conservatory, apparently summoned by the captain. “That is my ship—yes, a spaceship—the Grandiloquence. It’s here to take you home.”

  Trixie swayed, and one of the other women sobbed, the sound of relief quickly stifled as if she wasn’t sure she trusted the news. After one quick glance upward, Lishelle glared at him again.

  But he was watching Rayna.

  Why did she intrigue him so? Aside from those sleek thighs, of course. Knowing she had been the first to rouse, that she’d broken free and tried to save her friends impressed him. She’d taken on a terrifying responsibility and then made herself vulnerable again, distracting him while her crew of kidnapped brides sought to blindside him.

  And she wasn’t even a lady.

  “Come back to my ship,” he urged. “No more attacks, no more worries. We’ll get you cleaned up, fed, clothed.” It took every erg of his well-honed strength not to let his gaze dip to her legs. Really, she had lovely legs. “We’ll get you home before you know it.”

  And definitely before anyone else tried to claim the space station.

  The other women looked at Rayna, and she tilted a little to one side under the intensity of their wordless regard. She’d said she wasn’t their leader, and he realized she’d been telling the truth. She didn’t want this responsibility.

  So he’d take it from her.

  Striding forward, he grasped her elbow. “We’re too close to the singularity to dither,” he said briskly. “Blackworm chose a precarious place for your prison and you should be delighted to leave.”

  She glared up at him and tried to jerk her arm out of his hold. “We would be delighted to leave. Just not sure it should be with you.”

  “Who else?” He tilted his head, genuinely curious who else she thought might be coming. “Your Earth is many light years away. At your current technological capability, one of your ships could be here…oh, essentially never.”

  She shifted her weight, obviously aware of the problem.

  “Rayna,” Trixie whispered.

  That was all the girl said, but Rayna shuddered under his hand as if it were a scream.

  Frowning, he looked down. And realized she was trembling not just from the fear.

  “You’re hurt,” he bit out. “Your arms are torn. Why didn’t you larfing say something?”

  “It’s nothing.” She closed her eyes. “Nothing compared to being in the coffin, anyway.”

  He jerked his head up to pin the sec-off second with a stare. “Take the Earthers back to the Grandiloquence. We’ll be right behind you.”

  Rayna’s eyes popped open with a squeak—well, her eyes didn’t squeak, but she did; more a squeal, really—when he swung her up into his arms. “Put me down.”

  “I just picked you up.” He tightened his grip behind her shoulders and under her knees and wheeled sharply, forcing her to grab his neck to steady herself. “I try not to second-guess my decisions.”

  “How nice that must be for you,” she whispered. “Ever since I woke up, I’ve been wondering what I did wrong.”

  “Nothing,” he snapped. “Blackworm was in the wrong. You were just in the wrong place.”

  “And where you’re taking me now, that’s the right place?”

  He looked down at her bowed head, her tousled brown hair clouding her features. In the rush of returning to Azthronos, it had been some time since he’d indulged in pleasures of the flesh. Not that he was interested in indulging with a closed-world kidnapping victim. Even
if she was a cozy armful, one hand splayed on his chest, her rounded bottom—barely covered by the short shirt—bumping against his belly as he walked. At his silent perusal, a flush added color to her face, but he worried it might be a fever from her wounds. He was already responsible for eleven billion beings. What was one more?

  “I’ve got you now,” he said finally. “And I’ll make sure you get where you want to be.” He fell into step behind the rest of the away party who were herding the remaining Earthers back toward the station airlock.

  And told himself firmly, no, his arms were not the right place for her at all.

  Chapter 4

  Though her stomach churned from fear and confusion—she wanted to blame the rough jostling of the forced march through the atriums, but the man/alien/Raz/whatever he was carried her smoothly, even gently—Rayna forced herself to keep her eyes open. She stared at every turn of the space station. She marveled at the black hole and the spaceship overhead. She studied the beings who had rescued them. And—confession time—she ogled Raz.

  He seemed very humanoid, with all the requisite limbs and features, except taller, stronger, and faster. It wasn’t her fault she was ogling. He was the first alien she’d ever seen. That she remembered, anyway, since technically Blackworm must’ve been the first. Maybe the evil Blackworm would’ve been more obviously alien, with rows of fangs or dripping goo or at least a tail or something.

  Although maybe this Raz had a tail tucked into the pants of his vaguely militaristic black uniform. There seemed to be something sizeable down there, something very masculine…

  The thought made her blush and squirm. Which was unfortunate because he was carrying her and he must be wondering what was wrong with her.

  What was wrong with her? Other than being abducted by aliens, of course, and then saved by aliens and now taken away by aliens again.

  But Raz promised he was freeing her and the others. Her throat tightened with the memory of her screams. What choice did she have but to believe him? She was at a loss what else to do and she couldn’t stand the women waiting for her cue—Trixie and Lishelle, Carmen and Anne.

  She didn’t usually trust random strangers, not because she was suspicious but because it was stupid. And even friends and family… Not that she didn’t love them, but she was always the strong one, always the one making sure plans were formulated and lunches were served.

  Hanging helplessly in Raz’s arms felt almost…too good.

  How fucked up was that?

  Just because he was stronger than her? There were plenty of hard-bodied adventurers and strapping cowboys in Big Sky Country, even if Raz was in a class of his own. With the strength in his broad shoulders, he carried her easily, but his lean hips would fit even more easily between her thighs… Wait, what? No. She’d never gone for the gym rat guys who were always more interested in the appearance of their bodies than the needs of hers.

  She was going to excuse herself for this lapse, for now. She was just momentarily overwhelmed by her rescuer’s gallantry. As soon as she got her feet back under her, she’d be her old self again: secure, independent, free.

  Once she made that promise to herself, it didn’t seem so weak to rest her head on Raz’s heavy shoulder. Just for a moment.

  “It’s not far,” he murmured, almost as if he heard her hazy thoughts. “Just hold on.”

  She didn’t even have to hold him really, not when his arms were rock solid with muscle that she felt even through the thin body armor encasing him. She never liked being caged like this. Those macho dudes were more trouble than they were worth, not that she’d found them to be worth that much anyway. It was always easy enough to swipe right if she had the need, and a B.O.B.—battery-operated boyfriend—who never let her down could be had for the price of a few AA batteries along with a fifth of good tequila she didn’t even have to share.

  But damn, his embrace was tempting. She rested her hand on the arcane array of insignia emblazoned on the chest of his uniform.

  As they marched through the space (!) station and through an airlock (!!) to the space shuttle (!!!) that had brought the aliens (!!!!) from their spaceship (!!!!!), she found herself more intrigued with Raz than the unbelievable realities surrounding her. Maybe she was just burned out and he was all her swirling brain could handle right now.

  Or maybe it was because he was handling her. He cradled her tenderly while still clipping out orders that the other aliens obeyed without question. He had an effortless command that she recognized from her military father and her sister who had also served. She herself had never wanted to command or be ordered around like that, but she appreciated how efficiently he had everyone ensconced in their seats and communications relayed to the waiting ship.

  As their transport shuttle disconnected from the airlock and spun away from the space station (!!!!!!!), she caught her breath. They really were leaving. From the seat behind her, Lishelle hissed a string of curses.

  “Fuck you and good riddance,” she ended.

  “Amen,” Trixie added, and the other two women murmured their agreement.

  But Rayna watched the space station spin out of sight. It was actually sort of beautiful, the atriums rounding out like glassy bubbles from between sharp nacelles bristling in all directions, like a sea urchin floating in space. Space!

  Something like a giggle leaked between her lips, and the other women stared at her with expressions of suspicion and horror. She tried to choke down the inappropriate laughter but it turned into a snort instead.

  Then Trixie snickered and it was all over.

  The alien crew stared at them bemusedly as they doubled over, laughing, gasping, snorting some more. And then Trixie was crying, which made Carmen and Anne cry, which made Lishelle swear some more, which made Rayna laugh even harder.

  Long fingers closed around her shoulder and she glanced up to meet Raz’s steady stare. His eyes were a pure royal blue, deep set behind austere cheekbones. The light tan of his skin made the black of his hair, bound in a queue at his nape, seem even darker. But a strange halo of light seemed to surround him, and she realized suddenly she was welling up too, the smudge of unshed tears giving a soft-focus cast to the noble edges of his face, like a black velvet painting of an avenging angel.

  Although she’d stopped believing in angels after her mother—who she’d loved, of course, as so beautiful and good—had walked out of the house one day and left her in charge. She’d figured out then that praying did no good, and anything she wanted done, she had to do herself.

  “Calm yourself,” he said softly, too low for the others to hear. “You might not want to be their leader, but they look to you for guidance.”

  She swiped at her eyes and peered at him resentfully. “Calm this.” She raised her middle finger at him. Since his big body was blocking the way, she didn’t have to worry about Trixie seeing it. And Lishelle would probably approve.

  He narrowed his gaze at the gesture. “What does that mean?”

  “Fuck you,” she translated helpfully.

  “I was under the impression that most Earther mating customs reserved that privilege for intimate partnership,” he said. “But if fucking would help you calm yourself, I would be willing to oblige.”

  “Willing to…” She hissed out an angry breath. “No, it means you don’t get to control my emotions right now.” Leaning forward to keep her voice low, she reminded him, “I was kidnapped, held unconscious for who knows how long, for who knows what purpose, and now I’m flying through space, and you tell me to calm myself? No. Fuck you.”

  “Ah. You mean larf you.” He nodded once. “I understand your fury—”

  “Oh, you don’t,” she snarled. “You really, really don’t. And you don’t understand fucking if you think that’s what I wanted.”

  Except…maybe he wasn’t wrong about her not being in control of her emotions either.

  He slid his steadying grasp gently down from her shoulder to take her hands in both of his. His clear blue ga
ze locked on hers. “I know your fury,” he said again, his tone pitched into a deeper register she almost felt more than heard. “But it won’t get you what you want, not unless you channel it to something…appropriate.”

  She stared at him hard. He sounded like he knew what he was talking about, and it struck a chord somewhere inside her. “Like when my mother left and everybody told me I had to be strong and couldn’t cry or yell at God and I needed to take care of my little sister and make sure my dad didn’t mind going back to war to keep our country safe even though I was scared and lonely and had to miss summer camp?”

  He squinted slightly, as if he was having trouble keeping up with the flood of words as much as he seemed uncomfortable with the flood of tears. But then he nodded slowly. “Yes, that,” he said at last. “Exactly.”

  “Fuck you,” she told him.

  He reared back, releasing her hands. When he did so, she could see the other women watching sidelong, wary and quiet.

  But calm, their seesawing emotions purged for the moment.

  Really, fuck him. But apparently he’d been right to break up their breakdown. She sat back in the seat that was a bit too large for her, obviously sized for his kind.

  “You made your point,” she said. “You can go now.”

  He watched her for another moment then, with an arch of his eyebrow, he backed away.

  But even after he left, she found her gaze reluctantly tracking him. Though the others were seated, he walked among them like it was his right, like the ship was his. The alien who had grabbed Trixie and was now flying the shuttle had called him Your Grace. And what had he called himself? Duke of something, a champion of some sort. So he was like royalty? And he’d said he was an avatar of a god.

  No wonder he was so full of himself.

  She kept up the mental grumbling. It was good distraction from the uncertainties ahead, including the big spaceship getting bigger out the cockpit window. He was big, strong, fast, strangely handsome in an alien way—no, okay, sexy even in an entirely male way. And apparently a duke. But that didn’t give him the right to try to control her.