Elsewhere on the ship, his superior apparently had the same thought. A harsh command crackled over Pram’s comm device, and the man put on a sour face and begrudgingly sauntered out of the shower bays, leaving them to their privacy.
“I thought he’d never leave,” Ket quipped in a perfect deadpan.
Gods, she was something special. Too special for him. Too special to be in this situation with him.
This shower ploy didn’t fool him. The Ithians weren’t concerned with their hygiene. They were up to something, he just hadn’t worked out what it was.
Ketsia snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. “Hey. Still with me? Going to finish what you started, Spacer…or am I?”
Jagger went for a teasing spousal reply, “Be my guest.”
And damned if she didn’t.
When she’d kicked off the last thread of her clothing, Jagger had to remind himself to breathe. Then she placed her hands on the top catch of his coveralls, and he forgot how again.
“No need to be shy,” she whispered, “since we’ve done this together at least a thousand times.” She tweaked open the fifth and sixth catches of his flight suit, and knelt to remove his deck boots.
“Don’t I wish.”
Ketsia set his boots aside and rose. He fought to hold eye contact and not let his gaze wander. “Fortunately…” Her mouth quirked, and she pushed the uniform off his shoulders. “I’m not the modest sort.”
“So I see.”
“Probably lucky for both of us.”
“Speak for yourself.”
She crouched, tugging his uniform down to his ankles and off over his feet.
Well, they certainly had no secrets between them now.
She took his hand and led him into the bays, flicking one of the hydro controls to start the stream. He stepped to the next showerhead and activated it.
Here, also, surv-cams were set into the ceiling. Jagger did a quick flick of his gaze to the lens to alert Ketsia, and she nodded her understanding. She seemed undaunted, Gods love her. Probably due to her former experience as a slave.
Side-by-side, they soaped, lathered, and rinsed. Jagger summoned every last shred of willpower to look the part of a spouse comfortable with showering with his mate, and not some horny fool with his tongue lolling out of his mouth. But in the quick glances he stole…Gods, she was beautiful. Her bronze skin glowed in the dim light of the bay as she lifted her face to the stream and let the water cascade over her skin.
When Ketsia turned to rinse her hair, Jagger stepped closer. “Let me help.”
She handled his intrusion into her personal space like a trooper, leaning back as he ran his fingers through the dense curtain of her dark hair, swaying with each pass of his hands. After he’d gently wrung the moisture from her tresses, she circled to face him, pinning him to the bay wall with a very unexpected and very sweet kiss.
“Ketsia,” he whispered, folding her into his arms. This was crazy, but nothing felt more natural or more perfect than holding her right then, her body warm and shedding rivulets of water in the steam. “I’ll get you out of this.”
“You mean you’ll get us out,” she retorted. “We leave together. Or not at all.”
She was wrong about that. If an opportunity came for escape, with or without him, he’d send her off without a second thought.
But how he’d make that happen, he didn’t know.
Jagger reached out to shut off the water then plucked a towel from the hook and wrapped it around Ketsia before taking the second one for himself.
“Time’s up,” Pram’s gravelly voice sounded from near the seal. Jagger hadn’t heard him enter. How long had the man been standing there, watching them?
Jagger’s eyes flicked over the bare floor where they’d discarded their clothes. “Our outfits seem to be on the miss,” he said in an accusing tone.
“Being laundered,” Pram rumbled with a sneer. “You’ll get them back by morning.”
Ah. That was what the Ithians were after. They were checking every stitch of the garments for concealed information, leaving them without those stitches. At least Ketsia had her towel, though it only wrapped her from shoulder to thigh, just covering the bare essentials.
“We’ll die from chill in that cell,” Jagger protested.
“My superior ordered a blanket provided.” He put a hand on the coarse fold of material slung over his shoulder. “Kind man that he is.”
“Why not let her have it now? Ya can see she’s a-shiverin’. She ain’t faring well on your blasted iceboat.”
Pram eyed her with relish. “You’ll get it when you’re back in your cell.”
“Cock that!” Jagger removed the towel twisted around his hips and wrapped it around her waist, giving her more coverage. She looked up at him, her brows arched in surprise. He didn’t have much issue with strutting around naked if it would keep her warmer and give this pervert less of her to drool over.
“Have you no pride, man?” Pram growled, sounding quite unhappy with Ketsia’s wardrobe addition.
He and Ketsia exchanged looks, and Jagger snorted.
“Back to your cell,” their guard ordered.
Jagger placed an arm around her back, a pointedly possessive gesture, as they walked together down the corridors. He turned a spiteful eye on Pram. “When are ya going to let us back to our ship?”
“When we’ve found what we’re looking for.”
“And when ya don’t?”
Pram slammed the bars shut behind them, scowling. “We will. We know you’re hiding something.”
Jagger held his arms out and glanced down at his body. “Doesn’t seem so, does it?”
The man’s face reddened. “On your ship, Spacerat. Wherever that SpaceDog is hiding, we’ll find it. And then the two of you will have Hades to pay, won’t you?” A slow grin bowed his mouth, and his attention shifted to Ketsia. “Looking forward to that.”
After taking a moment to gloat, the Ithian thrust the blanket through the bars and stalked out of the observation area.
Ket plucked the blanket from the deck and turned to draw it around Jagger’s bare body. “You seem to have gotten pretty comfortable in your own skin.”
“I admit it felt a bit…awkward at first.” He swept a lock of her dark hair off her shoulder. “Until it didn’t.”
She gave him a tiny smile.
“I know this hasn’t been easy for ya…Adey. But I’m very proud of ya.”
She eased into his arms and tucked her face into the hollow of his neck. “It hasn’t been all bad…Dallan,” she answered, matching his lazy freighter drawl.
He cocked his head. “No?”
She shifted back to meet his eyes. “I’m with the one I care about.”
He had no answer for that, only a dull ache that settled in his heart. Was it Ketsia talking? Or Adey?
“There’s something I need to tell you...” Her lower lip quivered, and she caught it tight between her teeth.
“What is it?” He closed his hands over her shoulders, and slanted his head to speak in a low voice. “Tell me.”
“Could we…” Without a telltale movement of her head, she flicked her eyes to the overhead surveillance. “…lie down? Under the blanket.”
Jagger glanced down at the swatch of scratchy material she’d draped around him. He swallowed around the destroyer-sized lump that rose in his throat. This was a bad idea. Yes, he was attracted to her. Yes, she seemed to be attracted to him. But the situation had surely only confused her feelings. What they used to call Stockholm Syndrome, though nobody knew where the tag had originated. Except that it wasn’t her captors she’d become enamored with, it was her fellow prisoner.
“You know they’re watching.”
“It’s what they’re expecting.” She touched his arm, her fingertips trailing lightly on his skin. “And our time may be short.”
Jagger couldn’t deny that cruel reality. He nodded cautiously.
As they eased down on the mattress toge
ther, she moved close, tugging the blanket up over their heads to block the surv-cam. Jagger’s heart hammered in his chest.
He knew where this could lead, where his body clearly wanted to take it, but hadn’t he already had his fall from honor for one lifetime? It would be so easy to take advantage of the situation…but Gods-damn, he didn’t want to be that man.
“That one experience I told you about…my only time?” she said.
Gods, this wasn’t starting well. Jagger gave a slow blink. “Yeah.”
“I was raped,” she said. “By an Ithian. When I was a slave.”
The breath left his lungs, and for a moment, his heart went still. “Gods. Ket.”
“It was my owner’s son.”
“I’m…so sorry.” He started to ease away. “Being held is probably the last thing you want.”
She caught his upper arms. “No, I’m trying to tell you it’s exactly what I need.” She drew him back to her. “Right now.”
His body sagged under the weight of her words. His Ket—his beautiful Ket—had been violated in the worst possible way, and now faced death without ever knowing the gentle hand of a considerate lover. It was completely unfair, but yet, he couldn’t be that man. It was wrong, ethically, morally, professionally—
“It’s true that there were times I didn’t like you much. I’d never met a man so owned by his pride before. But then you came to my cabin…to apologize…and you were so humble. So caring.” She drew him closer, molding her succulent, towel-wrapped curves against his chest. “That’s when I saw who you really are.” She tenderly brushed the stray lock of hair from his eyes. “So if we only live for a few more hours…”
Gods, the temptation. But even if she thought she wanted this, she’d only regret it later. “Ket—”
She placed the pad of her finger to his lips, silencing him. “Sair once told me that someday I’d find a man—the right man—who I’d want with all my heart.” She peered at him, her eyes large and luminous in the faint light. “Now I know that man is you.”
Jagger went still. “The last guy in this galaxy who deserves you?”
She exhaled a quiet oh. “You see? That’s the Jagger I fell in love with.”
“You didn’t…” His denial died on the vine when it met her soft, coaxing lips. A siren and temptress who meant to have him, and Gods knew he wasn’t strong enough to dissuade her, or man enough to reject what she was offering.
With a groan of defeat, he surrendered. Let her bathe his face and throat in kisses. Let her roam his body and break down all his barriers.
Beneath the blanket, she swept the towel away to discard it on the floor beside their bed. His gaze fixed on the twin swell of her breasts before he skimmed a hand up to caress and fondle her. Then he bent to take a tight peak between his lips to taste her, tease her, explore her.
He drew his tongue in a languid path over her lush curves, pleasuring her with lips and teeth, lingering and loitering until she was gasping aloud. “Dallan!”
So beautiful. Everything about her, beautiful. The silk of her skin, the salt of her flesh. The way she closed her eyes and arched her back.
She sought him out, tightened her hand around his erection, tentatively stroking the length of him in a feathery caress before gripping him more boldly. She worked him. Gods, no, it was more than that. She owned him.
“Adey!” Jagger cried, sucking in air as his need flared hot and spiraled into tight knots of tension. He dropped a hand to clutch the mattress, already pushed to the brink of containment. Three calendars—three long calendars of self-denial surged within him, demanding release.
But he refused to go there without taking her with him.
“Dallan,” Ket whispered. “Touch me.”
He slipped one hand into the valley between her thighs to stroke the center of her heat. She moved with him, closing her eyes. Her body rocking with his rhythm.
“Please. Please, now.” Beneath her entreaty, she added in a breathy postscript for him alone, “Jagger.”
He positioned himself and was careful, tender, in taking her. Though he was sure any injury to her body was long healed, it didn’t mean the wounds to her spirit had closed.
Yet she didn’t stiffen beneath him, didn’t press her hands to his shoulders to push him away. There was no hesitation, no rejection, no change of heart, only the welcoming embrace of her body accepting him home, and the soft cries of her encouragement.
Thrusting his hips, looking into her eyes, he touched and stroked her, allowed the hot thermals of need to build…and crest…and carry them both to a sudden and violent climax.
They soared as one and imploded as one then lay pressed together, clutching and huffing until the tingling eased. When their gasps for air mellowed to mere pants, Jagger slipped his arms around her back and rolled beneath the blanket, bringing her atop him to melt against his still-heaving chest.
“I love you,” Ketsia whispered, and he knew it wasn’t Adey who’d made the heartfelt declaration.
“Ket,” Jagger mouthed, closing his eyes and splaying his fingers wide on her back. “There truly is no way in sweet Hades I deserve you.”
Ten
Tucked into Jagger’s arms, it was the first time in years that Ketsia could remember sleeping so soundly. The universe finally felt right to her heart, though she knew in her head it couldn’t be more wrong. That they were a long way from any shot at a happy ending.
Against her, Jagger exhaled softly, his beautiful chest rising and falling with each quiet breath. Last night, he’d sworn to her that he was the last man in the universe she should ever want, and then—with a little urging—he’d proven he was the only one in creation she’d ever need.
If only it hadn’t taken a calamity to help them discover each other.
A click echoed through the empty cell block, and tension stiffened her muscles. Pram was back. And judging from the low-level lighting, it wasn’t even shift cycle yet. This couldn’t be good. Under the blanket, she rewrapped the towel tightly around her body and looked toward the seal.
The click sounded again.
But not from the seal.
From the ventilation duct in the lower wall.
Ketsia did a slow roll away from Jagger to face the opening. A barely perceptible coo sounded in the twilight.
Luna?
She couldn’t speak to her StarDog. The Ithians might hear or see. So she tugged a portion of the blanket up to block her hands from the overhead surveillance and signed toward the opening. Luna? Be very quiet.
Another quiet click sounded, and this time Ketsia saw it was caused by a vent screen fastener falling to the floor. It joined two others that already rested there. Luna was attempting to remove the screen.
Jagger’s forearm tightened around her body, his corded muscles going taut. “What’s that sound?”
“It’s nothing,” Ket replied. “Just the ductwork cooling.” She gave him a subtle wink and a tiny head gesture toward the air vent.
Jagger rubbed his eyes and blinked then fixed his attention on the screen.
No wonder the Ithians hadn’t located her little buddy on Banshee. She’d found her way onto the Ithian destroyer and had probably been prowling the air passages searching for them since their capture.
Smart little StarDog.
But had Luna outwitted herself? What if the Ithians discovered her?
Tick. Another fastener landed on the deck.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jagger said on an exhale.
Ket angled her body over his and kissed him. His eyes widened in surprise then narrowed in a “what are you doing?” expression. There, hovering over him, it would look to the surv-cam like they were romantically engaged, when they were really having a muted conversation.
“Taro taught her,” Ketsia said. “Fasteners, bolts, flick locks…anything she can manipulate with her paws.”
“She can open the vent?”
“Yes. She’s come to us for instructions. If we fi
gure out a plan, I can sign it to her.”
Jagger ran a hand over her hair. “She understands signing?”
“A little. Enough, I think.”
Jagger slid a hand languidly down her back to cup and knead her hip. He matched it with a suggestive shift of his lower body. Some Ithian probably anticipated he was about to get a show. At least, she thought Jagger was just acting.
Tick.
Jagger gave her a lingering kiss then buried his face in her hair. “Tell her stop. Wait for our signal.” When he retreated, his eyes were unreadable, and his face morphed back into the surly scowl of the Carduwan officer she’d first met. “I have an idea.”
Ketsia’s heart flinched. When he broke eye contact, she raised her hands and spiked her fingers into the short-cropped hair at his temples, forcing him to look at her. “I’m not going to like it, am I?”
Pram ambled into the observation area later with a single tray in one hand and their uniforms in the other. He patted his laze-pistol in warning before thrusting their coveralls through the bars of their cell.
“You’ll not be lingerin’ while she dresses, lackey,” Jagger snapped. “You can get yourself back to your boss man and tell him I’d like a say.”
“Dallan!” Adey protested. “What do ya think you’re doin’?”
Pram’s eyes went beady as he slid their tray through the bottom access of the bars.
“I want a word, is all.”
“Not without me, you don’t!” Adey insisted.
“Without you, woman,” Jagger snapped. “This is between me and the boss man.”
Adey came at him with fists clenched. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you even think of it.”
“Be quiet and sit down!”
Pram’s comm device sounded, and a voice said, “Admiral Rinn has agreed to speak to Dallan.”
Admiral, was it?
“Could you give us a moment of privacy to get dressed, ya brute?” Jagger uttered in a low growl. “As ya can plainly see, we’ve got a thing or two to sort between us.”
Pram’s upper lip twitched in annoyance, and he turned for the seal. “Make it quick,” he said before exiting.
They discarded their towels and pulled on their gray flightsuits. When Jagger moved to help her, Ketsia lifted her gaze to his, her eyes brimming with tears. Jagger, she mouthed with a tiny shake of her head. “What in Hades arse do you think you’re up to, talkin’ to the bastards, Dal?” Adey demanded.