Thieves In Paradise Read online

  Emboldened by the bounty hunter's non-aggressive movements, the creature took a swipe with one massive forepaw. The Antarean fired and this shot connected dead center of the broad, black-furred chest, where surprisingly it seemed to have absolutely no effect.

  "I guess there's no point in betting if I won't be around to collect, is there?” When the carnivore roared again, Charity pulled harder on the tether and scrabbled as far back from her captor as possible

  "Quiet.” The Antarean's terse order made the creature's huge, pointed ears prick up. Those scimitar-shaped fangs flashed in the dappled light, and it lifted its huge head as if to taste the scent of fear on the wind.

  The bounty hunter's free hand moved toward the blade which hung from his belt in a jeweled sheath.

  How could he be considering hand-to-claw combat with the beast? “We need to run, not fight,” Charity whispered. She would have screamed it, but her throat had gone tight and dry. Staring down death twice in one day certainly wasn't good for one's health.

  Just as the Antarean's blade cleared the sheath, the carnivore tilted its head. The creature made a questioning sound, and its baleful gaze tracked to the darker recesses of the forest.

  Distracted by something it heard or smelled, the animal turned, padding silently on those enormous feet. Then, without a backward glance, it leaped away, leaving not so much as a rustle of branches in its wake.

  Charity gulped the humid air for a moment before she found her voice. “How did you do that?"

  The Antarean thrust his blade home, but kept his stunner gripped tightly in his hand. “I did nothing. Something more important drew its attention away from us.” He leveled his piercing light blue gaze on her and finally reached down to haul her to her feet. “That means either it sensed easier prey in the area or a larger predator."

  "Larger than that?” Charity didn't want to consider how big a creature would have to be to frighten away an animal of that size. With shaking hands she brushed at the sharp burs that adhered to her clothing, managing only to dislodge a few. The rest seemed permanently stuck to the fabric of her flight jacket and pants.

  "I suggest we move fast before we find out exactly what drew the beast's attention."

  "We'll make better time if you untie me.” Charity kept her voice light and conversational. She even managed an airy grin at her captor.

  Undaunted, he turned his back on her and continued his determined trek toward his shuttle. Charity stumbled after him, cursing under her breath, all pretense of camaraderie forgotten.

  They'd walked for what seemed like an hour, though it only registered as ten minutes on Charity's chronometer, when the bounty hunter stopped short. She nearly collided with his broad back. “Don't tell me you're lost?” Her tone dripped sarcasm to cover her apprehension. After seeing the carnivore in action, she had no desire to spend a few days wandering the forests of Lebron. She preferred now to take her chances with the Antarean and see if she could strike a bargain for her release sometime before they reached Valencia.

  "The storm we flew through is gathering. I can smell the change in the air,” he said after sniffing the wind much like the carnivore had.

  "So what's a little rain?"

  "If it was the storm that drew the beast away from us, it's likely going to be more than just a little rain. We need to—"

  A blinding flash lit the forest then, leaching the color from everything and leaving Charity blinking at jagged spots that floated behind her eyelids. The thunder that followed shook the ground, and all around them the sounds of forest life fell silent. A cold wind swept through the trees and, like shopkeepers in the markets of Celrax folding up their canopies at day's end, every leaf in the forest curled itself into a tight roll. While they watched in astonishment, the entire blanket of foliage above them disappeared and they were left standing unprotected amid the naked boles.

  A sheet of driving rain, cold and needle sharp, accompanied the next flash of lightning. Charity huddled into herself, stunned by the spectacle of the disappearing foliage. “I've never seen anything like this before."

  The bounty hunter raised his voice to be heard over the deluge. “It's a survival mechanism. With the foliage sheathed, more water can reach the tree roots where it's stored for the dry season."

  Charity wished for a scathing reply to his nature lesson, but the force of the water descending on her head left her breathless. Within seconds she was soaked to the bone and shivering, and still the Antarean walked on.

  * * * *

  Kol didn't need his Antarean abilities to sense the misery emanating from the human female. With no foliage to divert even a portion of the downpour, they were instantly drenched. Soon the forest floor became slick and muddy, which slowed their pace considerably. On the upside, the storm had cleared the forest of predators. Wherever the carnivore went for shelter, it wasn't likely to be looking for a meal until well after the blinding rain let up.

  He was beginning to wish he hadn't set his shuttle down on a slope when the female yelped in surprise or perhaps pain. Before he could turn around to investigate, she slid past him in a river of mud.

  With only a split second to choose between using the kevlex cord to stop her descent or opening the clasp and letting her fall free, he chose the former. He braced himself, digging his booted heels into the slippery earth and held fast until she reached the end of the tether. Though the impact could easily snap one of her delicate wrists, he judged that would be preferable to her than drowning in mud.

  She cried out when Kol yanked up hard on the cord, but she didn't seem injured. Hand over hand, he pulled her up the slope, wrapping the slick cord around his fists for traction.

  Each time she tried to get her legs under her, a fresh torrent of water would knock her down. It might have been comical except that Kol feared the loose soil beneath his feet would give way and they'd both end up at the bottom of the slope.

  "Stop struggling!” His command was met with a disdainful glare that morphed into indignant panic when he wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her lithe form against him.

  "Put me down! I can walk by myself!” She felt like an angry eel in his arms, but beneath the layer of mud that now covered her body, her skin was warm and supple.

  "I'll carry you to my ship, since you can't seem to stay—"

  The vision hit him between one syllable and the next, and though he'd been trained since childhood to expect his Antarean preminatory sense to show him anything at all, what he saw in that extended glimpse into the future shocked him beyond imagining.

  He had the female beneath him. She was naked, her shapely legs spread wide to reveal the enticing pink folds of her delicate sex. His own cock lay rigid in his hand as if he were about to guide it into her waiting heat.

  She was smooth, pale as alabaster, and seemed to be arched in anticipation of his conquest. Her lips were parted in a sigh that became a wild keen of pleasure when he thrust himself inside her.

  "...upright.” The end of his sentence escaped with a startling whoosh of breath and he found himself glaring at her in disapproval. Was this how she planned to escape from him, by using her sexual allure?

  Still pushing ineffectually against his chest, the female hadn't seemed to notice his sudden shock or, fortunately, the evidence of his arousal.

  To cover both, he dropped her, and she landed in the mud with a splash. At least she managed to stay on her feet this time.

  "Thank you,” she said with little sincerity. With what had to be deliberate intent, she sloughed mud from her face and the graceful column of her throat. Kol followed the movement of her hands, unable to ignore the ember of desire that his unwanted vision had sparked. Why would his Antarean senses show him something so inappropriate as his mating with the female and not have warned him about the carnivore attack or this infernal storm?

  This was no time to dwell on his confusion, though. “We need to keep moving.” Eager to get his eyes and his mind off the female's slippery curves, Kol
set off again. For once, his vision had to be wrong. Antareans did not mate outside their colonies. Even if he desired the full-blooded human—and of course he didn't!—he would never indulge and take the rare chance that such activity might initiate a mating bond.

  Behind him, she seemed to be scrambling to keep up with his determined strides. While some part of him rebelled against the cruelty of making her keep pace with him under such adverse conditions, another part of his psyche wanted only to be rid of her, and the fastest way to do that was to get back to his shuttle and return to Valencia with all possible haste.

  Any chance of a quick, uncomplicated end to his mission, however, died the moment the shuttle became visible through the spindly boles of the nearly naked trees.

  Apparently, the lightning had hit one of the larger trunks, severing two enormous branches that now lay across the bow of the ship. That alone would have posed little problem since he could have shaken them free by lifting off. Beneath one of the huge limbs, however, and extending from the bottom of the forward wind screen to the top in jagged relief, was a splintered crack in the glass.

  Once again Kol halted, and the female joined him at the base of the slope, looking up at his damaged ship.

  Kol sighed and wiped stinging rain from his eyes. Beside him, she sank nearly to her knees in the river of mud that flowed down the forest slope. Her voice barely carried in the sodden air. “Well, it looks like we're not going anywhere at the moment, are we?"

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  CHAPTER 3

  Charity sat in the feeble shelter provided by the port wing of the Antarean's shuttle. He'd taken the unnecessary precaution of fastening the kevlex tether to one of the shuttle's landing struts while he climbed on the nose of the craft and removed the huge tree limbs that had landed on the wind screen. Her assurances that she had no intention of trying to escape in this weather had been met with stoic indifference.

  Even partially protected from the driving rain, she was shivering and exhausted. The only consolation she found in this otherwise hopeless situation was that the bounty hunter had nearly fallen off the slippery bow of the shuttle twice during his efforts to dislodge the branches, and he seemed suitably vexed by the crack in the glass.

  At the moment he lay spread-eagle against the forward hull while he attempted to shove the second limb free of the ship. At least he hadn't expected her to help. But that left her with little to do except ruminate on how she could possibly escape from him.

  After a while she ran out of imaginary scenarios, and now she was left with nothing else to do but study his impressive physique.

  Paid bloodhound or not, by the Goddess, he was put together well.

  Though most of his body was covered in mud at the moment, his corded muscles rippled with every movement. The fallen tree limbs were each as thick around as her waist, yet he moved them with relative ease. A human would have required help, maybe even machinery, to complete the daunting task.

  She wondered what made such a fine male specimen loyal to a runt like Gar Gremin. It had to be money. Since he hadn't even acknowledged her offer to split her take with him, the Magistrate of Valencia must have offered him something substantially more valuable that a quarter million credits.

  That left Charity short at the bargaining table. If he wasn't interested in money, what could she trade him for her freedom?

  That thought lead her curious gaze to his firm backside and his massive thighs and, despite the icy rain, her face went hot.

  She couldn't. She would never—had never—bartered her body, even with men who would have willingly accepted such a proposition.

  She wasn't that kind of woman, and she'd steadfastly refused to let circumstances dictate a compromise in her values. Just because she'd grown up struggling on one of the galaxy's poorest colonies, didn't mean she had to rely on her body to make a living when her brain could get her so much further.

  Nevertheless, he was certainly a prime candidate for debauchery. His face was handsome enough, despite what seemed to be a perpetual scowl of disapproval, and he moved with sensual, almost predatory grace that hadn't escaped her attention, especially when her wet body had been plastered against his.

  He'd be huge, no doubt, a challenge for her physically ... ooh, but what fun it might be to peel off his tight flight suit and see for herself what an Antarean cock looked like.

  "Goddess bless me, I've lost my mind!” As quickly as the wind-driven rain changed direction, reality intruded on her uncharacteristic sexual fantasy and Charity's thoughts careened back to the problem at hand.

  She'd sooner shoot the bounty hunter than fuck him. Obviously the relentless rain and mind-numbing discomfort had made her delirious.

  * * * *

  Kol's boots hit the squelching mud, and he sank to his ankles in front of the shuttle. At least he'd managed to remove the branches. Now he had to worry about getting atmo sealant to set in this humidity. He calculated at least six hours before they'd be able to lift off, and by then he'd be half out of his mind trying to interpret the true meaning of his erotic vision.

  He swung around to glance at his captive and looked away quickly when their eyes met. She'd been watching him work, no doubt planning her next nefarious scheme. Magistrate Gremin had warned Kol about Charity Foster. She was smart, fast, and could talk her way into or out of just about anything. That's how she'd ended up in Gremin's monthly game of High Aces where she'd cheated him out of four million in selenite.

  Granted, it seemed it was more Gremin's pride than his purse that had taken a beating in the game, and cheating at High Aces was not a federal offense, but Kol had taken the job because the price was right and he had a personal dislike of cheaters of any kind.

  His job would be much easier if she looked guilty. Right now, she seemed small and defenseless. The mud and rain had left her blond hair stringy and plastered to her skull, all but obscuring the decorative purple streak. Her face was smudged and her slender body trembled with the cold.

  He could have secured her inside the shuttle, but short of tying her to a seat, she'd have had access to the controls and his supplies, and he couldn't trust her not to sabotage his mission.

  She raised her graceful brows at his approach and swiped at the chilly drops of rain that hung from the tips of her dark lashes. “Now what?"

  "I have to apply the sealant on the inside of the glass.” He unhooked the kevlex tether from the landing strut and then from the cuffs and directed her toward the shuttle's hatch. “I'll be watching you closely. Don't try to escape."

  She rolled her golden eyes at him. “Where in Goddess's name would I go? Face it, flyboy, you've got me. I'm your prisoner."

  He didn't like the emphasis she put on the word “prisoner.” There seemed to be a sexual innuendo there that made his thoughts circle round to the vision he'd been trying so hard to forget. Had her hands been tied when he'd fucked her? Kol would never force himself on a female, certainly not a captive and certainly never a non-Antarean, yet the idea of pushing her bound hands above her head and settling her hips against his made his cock stir uncomfortably.

  Did he only imagine the flirty tilt of her head and the secretive smile as she passed by on her way into the shuttle? Her rounded ass swayed a little as she lifted one leg and climbed into the ship. He dared not follow right away, but instead stood for a moment in the driving rain, allowing the cold water to soothe the sudden flush that traveled up from his groin.

  He would not use her. Even if she begged him to.

  * * * *

  Heaven was a dry place, Charity decided when she settled on one of the firm flight couches of the Antarean's shuttle. If she never saw rain again, it would be too soon. She kicked off her boots and did her best to push the sodden streaks of her hair out of her eyes. Her wrists ached and she made sure to give the bounty hunter a pointed glance when he climbed up into the shuttle. “Do you really think I'd rather be out there than in here? You can uncuff me. I promise I won't do anythi
ng."

  He held her in his piercing gaze for a moment. “I already know you will try to escape."

  "Not before the rain stops,” she countered with a slight smile. “I give you my word on that."

  He didn't respond. Instead he turned to rummage in the storage compartments of the shuttle. Charity watched him, wishing she could bore a hole in the back of his skull with nothing but an angry stare. How could a man be so maddeningly unresponsive? She'd been captured before by bounty hunters, soldiers, and countless local authorities, and she'd never failed to draw any man into a verbal battle of wits. It was her experience that most men liked to talk, if nothing else, at least about their own prowess and intelligence. That's how she'd managed to snooker Gar Gremin into letting her play in the High Aces game.

  "Please?” She figured if sarcasm didn't work, then maybe begging had a shot. “My hands are turning blue. The cuffs are too tight. I promise I'll sit quietly and not bother you."

  "You're already bothering me.” He produced a thick tube from the storage bin and stalked to the front of the shuttle with it. Charity watched while he extruded a line of sealant along the crack in the wind screen. The clear gel would keep the crack from spreading during a short space flight. They'd probably just make it to Valencia where the ship could get proper repairs.

  When he finished the job, he tossed the sealant tube aside and settled into the pilot's chair. “We lift off in six hours,” he said. “If you behave, I will activate the force shield and you can have free run of the back of the shuttle. I'll remove the cuffs then."

  "If I behave? And just what constitutes behaving in your opinion?” The indignities. She'd never been treated this badly, even when she'd been in federal custody.

  "Keep seated and stay quiet."

  "For six hours?"

  "Why don't we bet a quarter million in selenite that you can't do it?"

  Charity almost laughed. He hadn't looked back at her, but she sensed the faintest hint of humor in his voice. He was starting to crack a bit and she could exploit that. “Why not make it half a million?"