Chapter Twenty-Three
JUST BECAUSE Tessa was right didn’t mean Kahn could extinguish his obligation to his people. Torn between staying and going, he seethed with the frustration of needing to be in two places at the same time. He’d have rather walked naked into stinging stunners than abandon his people during a battle. His escape to the safety of the shuttle while people on Rian were dying seemed an act of cowardice. Yet, he damn well knew Tessa was no coward. She’d risked her life to save him and his men when she’d entered the Endekian camp alone, and again to save a boy she didn’t know when she’d plunged into the frigid water, and she’d killed a handful of Endekians to rescue Miri. Obviously, after Dora’s reports it was clear the current battle for Rian was lost, and the notion sickened him, but he had to look at the entire situation, the ultimate goal of returning with the Federation’s help to reclaim the planet—after Tessa won the Challenge.
Kahn entered the shuttle to see Miri surrounded by a calm Helera, a purposeful Shaloma, and a worried Etru. When linked with Tessa, Kahn had experienced the fetus’ extraordinary psi strength and already felt as if he knew the little one’s spirit. With Miri in labor, the Endekians shooting missiles at the shuttle, Kahn headed straight to weapons control and navigation, and employed desperate evasive maneuvers to keep the shuttle from taking a hit.
Zical’s eyes flashed a twinkling red. “You set to go?”
Kahn avoided a missile and returned fire. “Don’t ever marry an Earthling.”
Zical clapped Kahn on his shoulder. “She needs you to win the Challenge. If you’d stayed, I would have stayed, and then we both would probably have died.” Zical handed Kahn a printout, his face grim. “Dora’s sensors have found a group of our people who have taken cover in the hydroponics area. The Endekians aren’t yet aware of their presence. With the food materializer and hydroponics, they may be able to hold out for a week or two.”
“We should return. Help them.”
“We will,” Zical told him. “Just not yet. First, Tessa is mere days from taking the Challenge, and she must pass before we return. Your duty lies with—”
“I do not need a reminder of where my duty lies,” Kahn snapped at his friend, all the more annoyed because he was right.
Zical shrugged, jerked his thumb at Kahn and looked over to the communications console. “Tessa—”
“Not now,” she snapped, her irritation so severe that Kahn knew the danger must be more critical than he’d assumed.
He spied two Endekian ships on their tail and calculated their shuttle with their ragtag family inside would never make it inside the spaceship’s flight bay. “Dora, go to hyper drive. Both shuttle and mother ship. We’ll dock the shuttle after we return to normal space.”
“Compliance.”
Real space disappeared, replaced by hyperspace where all sensations became ultra-sensitive. Kahn had made the transition numerous times before and had no difficulties, but Zical looked a little green, and Miri screamed in agony.
“Baby’s coming now. There’s no time for a healing circle. The head is crowning.” Helera moved between Miri’s spread knees. “One more push, Miri. Good.” Helera cradled the baby boy and uttered the traditional blessing. The child didn’t cry. He opened his stunning violet eyes and sent a warm psi pulse of hello to everyone in the room.
Kahn supposed it might have happened before, but he’d never heard of a baby being born in hyperspace. Helera placed the calm baby in Miri’s arms. And Dora popped out of hyper drive. Kahn leaned forward and checked the instrumentation, his hands itching to take the controls. “We lost the Endekians. Nice flying.”
Tessa stepped back. “Could you take us into the flight bay?”
At the sight of the spaceship Tessa had purchased, a breath of admiration rushed out of him. Long, lean and with the graceful lines of a winged bird of prey, the ship glistened like a shiny present. Larger than the vessel they’d used to travel from Earth, she appeared to be a modern pleasure craft with extra space for cargo.
Then he spied the weaponry. Lasers. Blaster cannons. Missile throwers. His wife had spared no expense.
Kahn let out a low whistle of appreciation. “She’s beautiful.”
“Quite shapely,” Zical agreed.
“Thank you,” Dora’s voice sounded bemused, almost flirtatious. “That’s the best thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Dora, I think I’m in love,” Zical teased.
Tessa ignored the byplay. She leaned closer to Kahn and whispered. “Back on Zenon the engineers made a few upgrades. They modified the engines, the design, and Dora’s technology.”
“Nice of you to consult with me.” Kahn checked the instruments, then double checked. “Tessa, there are already life forms on board the ship. Could the Endekians—”
“Osari is aboard. He brought Azrel and Corban with him. Apparently it’s necessary that three races oversee the Challenge to make sure no rules are broken.”
Kahn rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “You invited guests without asking me, too?”
“I forgot. Sorry.” She brushed a stray lock of shiny hair from her eyes. “Things have been hectic the last few days, but I’ve been trying to find the right moment to give you this.” She handed him the knife she’d bought for him on Zenon.
The hilt was beautifully designed, the balance suggested it had been crafted by an expert. “Thank you.” After all the deaths his people had suffered at the hands of the Endekians, he didn’t have the heart for a quarrel. Not after she’d given him this gift. Not with the memory of Etru beaming over his son, not with the gorgeous ship waiting for him. Not with a wife who’d begged him to stay with her—not out of need—but out of wanting him. And as much as Kahn enjoyed being needed, it was also good to be wanted for himself.
Her actions revealed that she was as eager for a future together as he was. The thought pleased him, placed a soothing balm over his heart. After Tessa won the Challenge, they would return to Rystan and with the Federation’s help, they’d free his world from the Endekians.
Meanwhile, he was grateful his family was safe. And for a wife who thought enough of him to give him gifts. And for a wife who had opened up an entire new universe of possibilities for them.
“WHAT DO YOU mean, Kahn and his wife got away?” Jypeg screamed at Trask, spittle flying from his lips. He raised his fist in rage, his scar of shame, livid.
Trask flinched. “We didn’t expect them to have a shuttle or starship on Rystan.”
“You didn’t expect? Fool!” Jypeg backhanded Trask so hard his second in command tumbled from his chair in front of the communication console. Yellow blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. “We know they are going to Laptiva. We can still stop them, sir.”
“Trask. That idea is underhanded. Sneaky. No race has ever interfered in the Challenge.” Jypeg bent down and helped lift Trask back to his feet. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Can you get us to Laptiva without being seen?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll assemble a task force.”
“I’m leaving nothing to chance this time. I’ll head the mission.” Jypeg greedily rubbed his hands together. “We need to make the most of the situation. Here’s a chance for us to take back some of the credits the Earthling and Osarian have stolen from us. And since we already know the female will lose, take any and all bets on the outcome.”
“Sir, the odds are—”
“I don’t care about the odds. We will crush her. And then I will finish off Kahn.” Kahn of Rystan, who had marred Jypeg’s face and made him an object of pity among his own people. Jypeg’s fist closed around his stunner. Soon, Kahn and his interfering female would be dead by his own hand.
THE FIRST MOMENT alone with her husband didn’t come for several hours. Between saying hello to their guests, a quick business meeting with Osari and settling the others into the spacious quarters of their new spaceship, Tessa and Kahn had had no private time together since leaving Rystan.
She didn’t even attempt to hide her eagerness to be alone with Kahn as she led him into the spaceship’s luxurious master suite, decorated with rare paneling that reminded her of cherry wood, precious art objects, and the latest hologram technology. However, she much preferred keeping the bendar clear and gazing into the depths of space.
So much had happened over the last few days, but since she had to leave Kahn for the Challenge tomorrow, she didn’t want to spend what might be their last hours together talking. Placing a hand on her hip, she changed her black pantsuit into a provocative white lace number that should make the man salivate.
He raised one haughty eyebrow. “Are you trying to manipulate me, woman?”
“Actually, I was trying to seduce you. Can’t we just skip all conversation and make love?”
“You’re a confusing woman as well as a great deal of work to keep up with.”
“I’m a simple woman. Low maintenance,” she countered.
“Now who’s the liar? You’re a maze of contradictions that fascinate and intrigue me, especially in that dress. I really like that dress.”
“I thought you might.”
He folded his arms over his chest, his eyes brightening as he attempted to resist her. “What about honing your null-grav skills?”
“In the time I’ve got left, there’s no way I’m going to hone anything—except my appetite for you. So unless you plan to tell me about the Challenge—”
“You know I can’t.”
“—then the best thing you can do before you send me off is give me a good reason to come back.”
“I already have.”
“Really?”
His eyes all flinty amber, his lips twitching at some joke she didn’t understand, he watched her like a man about to reel in the catch of the day. Why was he looking so smug?
“I’ve already given you what you wanted most.” His arrogant tone, so sure and confident gave her pause.
She hadn’t a clue what he was talking about. “Is that so? Exactly what have you given me besides this gorgeous necklace?” She touched the fire stone that she always wore around her neck.
He scratched his jaw. “What have I given you? Me. I gave you me.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m the luckiest woman in the universe.” She let out a long breath of air in a rush. “I have a husband who didn’t want an Earth woman foisted on him. A husband whose wife never seems able to please him.”
“You know how to please me. In fact, I could become accustomed to living in this kind of luxury. But you’re changing the subject—don’t you know what you want most?”
“What?”
“A home. A family. People who care about you as much as you care about them.”
Oh . . . my . . . God. How did he know? How could he have guessed her secret when she’d buried the need so deep she hadn’t known just how right he was until he’d said the words aloud. As a child, from the moment she’d lost her parents until Kahn’s family—her family—had risked their lives to save her in the healing circle, she’d been alone. Not lonely. Alone.
On Earth, her detail in the Secret Service had been a substitute family—not the real thing. But now, now she had a real family. People who stuck together, who loved and fought but still treasured and respected each other.
Her detail on Earth changed with who was assigned where. But this family was permanent. She savored the delicious idea like a priceless treasure. How ironic that Kahn had given her exactly what she needed, but she couldn’t even pretend to be the kind of wife he wanted.
Her heart quivered at the paradox. She couldn’t set him free. But he didn’t look dissatisfied, not with his hungry gaze swallowing her up as if he intended to gulp her whole.
But lust didn’t always transform into love or even long-term satisfaction. “No matter how much I try, I can never give you as much . . .”
He swept her into his arms, fisted his fingers into her hair and tugged until she bowed back her neck and he stared into her eyes. “You are my life.”
“But you wanted an obedient Rystani—”
“You may not be the kind of woman I would have chosen, but that was because I didn’t know a woman like you existed. Or how well suited we are for each other.” He seemed so intense, so sure, that he ripped right through every defensive barrier she’d raised. “You are the one who matches my psi, the one who holds my heart, the one who sets my blood on fire. Make no mistake woman, you are mine, and I will never let you go.”
His words soothed the ache in her. As a declaration of love, his words were more than she’d ever hoped for, and she flung her arms around his neck. “Wow!”
He released his fist hold of her hair. “Wow?”
“I rather like the sound of you never letting me go.” She leaned into his neck and nipped lightly. “So are you going to talk or show me some null-grav action?” She tossed back her hair, deepening her voice to a sexy purr. “Or perhaps, you’d like for me to dance the Ramala Ki? I’ve been practicing.”
His eyes dilated, leaving only twin rings of gold around black irises. He set her back on her feet. “I have no idea when you found time to practice, but I am most interested in seeing what you have learned.”
She restrained a grin, snapped her fingers, and the music began. The last time she’d danced for him, they’d shared a simmering sexual tension. That tension still existed, but now it was augmented by common experiences, shared goals, and mutual respect. Differences between them would always be there and keep life interesting. But she’d been inside his psi and he in hers, she’d sensed the goodness of his heart. While she didn’t know many things about this man, like his favorite color or if he’d ever had an imaginary childhood friend, she loved him.
She loved him.
The emotion had sneaked under, over, and around her heart until she’d caved. But love didn’t feel like defeat. It felt wondrous, glorious, and fun.
She loved him.
And the prospect of living together for nine hundred years didn’t seem like enough time. Not with a man like him. Not with a man who had more honor in his pinky than others had in their entire bodies.
She loved him, but the notion was so startlingly new that she could barely bend her mind around the concept.
Should she tell him before she left? After what had happened with Mike she didn’t want to put off living life, didn’t want to keep secrets, and yet, she had to consider how Kahn would feel if she told him that she loved him—and then never returned. He’d already gone through that once when he’d lost Lael. She couldn’t do that to him again. And with the Challenge such an unknown, she had no idea how long they would be apart or what he planned to do while she did whatever she was supposed to do. But she knew he’d prepared her to the best of her ability and that he’d be there with her in spirit.
No, now was not the time to tell him her new-found feelings. That could wait until she returned. Although she wasn’t ready to say the words, she was more than willing to show him.
She put the emotions into the dance, and when she noted his gaze lingering on her legs, she shortened the lacy slip to mini-skirt proportions. The hem skimmed her thighs, and as she performed a turn, the lace flared, taunting him with a glimpse of a pink scrap of silk between her legs. The Brazilian-cut panties allowed him a glance of her bottom, then she spun again, the bodice lower, clinging to her breasts. She gave him the merest hint of her areolas, then dipped, sashayed in her own variation of the Ramala Ki. And when she stopped before him in the ritual pose, she did so with her head high, her shoulders back, her spine arching.
The lacy slip stayed up, only by the grace of her protruding nipples, or at least that’s how precarious she intended her suit to look. With his eyes flashing an I-can-hardly-wait-to-have-you look, she half hoped he would simply lose control and kiss her, half hoped he’d let her continue the dance and whip both of them into a frenzy of desire.
Instead, as she held the provocative pose, he placed his hands on his hips. “Tell me about this Earthling foreplay you always say you need to teach me.”
Her heart thumped. “It’s a slow tease, a warming up. We don’t need to—”
“Where do Earth men start?” He touched the inside of her knee. “Here.”
“Higher,” she encouraged, hoping he’d slide his hand right up her leg to check out her panties and the dampness already pooling there.
“Here?” He touched the sensitive juncture of where her neck met her shoulder, making her all too conscious of how easily he could trace a path to her breasts.
“Lower.”
He walked around her. Not being able to see him spiked her anticipation. Would he dip his hands to explore her panties? Plant a kiss by her ear? The wait seemed interminable but lasted mere seconds.
He placed his palms on her bottom, leaned in to nip her neck. “Here?”
She shivered, ached to turn around, throw her hands around his neck, and plant a kiss on his mouth, but she didn’t want to spoil his fun. “You’re getting warmer.”
She quivered in anticipation as he walked around to face her again. “I’m not sure I understand this foreplay business.” A natural born tease, he understood it very well and appeared to be enjoying her hope that he would move on to the next step. “While I think about this foreplay some more, dance for me again, please.”
The music began, releasing her from the pose. The steps became faster, pumping her blood, inciting her to bump and grind her hips. At Kahn’s bristling and intriguing take of her dance, at his outright fascination with her moves as she mimicked love making with her hips, he dropped his lower jaw.
Lifting her hair off her neck, she arched her back, let her hips do their thing, teasing them both. And when she posed for him, she made the lace transparent. Left herself standing in just the scrap of panties, her hands interlocked behind her head, her breasts pouting for attention.
He laughed, a most wicked glint in his eyes. “You’ve added some new moves to the Ramala Ki.”
“You approve?”
“Stars, yes.” He bent over to peer at her panties, and his warm breath fanned her mons. “Is there some significance to that scrap of material?”
“You’re supposed to peel it down.”
“Hmm.”
He fingered the material, driving her wild with the need to move. And then ever-so-slowly, ever-so gently, he tucked the material between her cheeks, then tugged the tiny side straps up over her hips, creating pressure, the tiniest of pinches, making her all-too aware of the throbbing heat between her legs.
When he straightened with the most satisfied of grins, she realized that his idea of foreplay was making her crazy. And yet, as his eyes lingered on her breasts, as he contemplated his next move, she loved the heat bubbling inside her, the clenching of every atom of her being, the expectation he incited.
There was something utterly powerful in waiting for this man, in knowing that he wanted her, of being able to give him whatever he wanted to take.
“Would you like me to kiss you?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Here.” He cupped her breasts, flicked his thumbs over her nipples, and shot a bolt of heat straight to her center.
“Yes.”
“Here?” He moved his hands from her breasts to her bottom, but he’d adjusted her suit so to her it felt as if his hands remained on her breasts, his thumbs still teasing her nipples. But now she also had the warmth of his hands caressing her bottom and holding still became almost impossible.
“Kiss my mouth, Kahn,” she demanded.
He slanted his mouth over hers, teasing, nipping, taunting. He tasted like fresh rain during a summer storm, and she strained toward him. Oh my, could he kiss. And when she forgot to hold her pose and just before she lowered her arms to draw him closer, he locked her there.
With muscle power no longer required to maintain the pose, she relaxed into his deliciously demanding kisses and seductive caresses. At the pure decadent pleasure of the silken licks of heat he’d ignited, both from the inside out and the outside in, she sighed a throaty moan of need.
When he pulled back from their kiss, she murmured into his ear, “Dance with me, Kahn.”
“Rystani men don’t dance.”
“Men from my planet do. It’s sexy,” she coaxed. “Let me show you.”
He did as she asked, the gleam in his eyes a tangle of hot interest and cool wariness. She immediately lifted her arms over her head, and snapping her fingers and clapping her hands to the heady beat, she slid up against him, wriggled her hips enticingly.
“Come on. Try it. You’ll like it.” Grabbing his hands, she fused her hips to his. “A friend of mine on Earth once had a t-shirt that said, ‘one should dance as if no one’s watching, play as if there’s no tomorrow, and make love as if it’s the last time.’”
Kahn had an innate sense of rhythm and fine control over his body from years of training. At first, he moved stiffly, uncertainly, but she encouraged him with the sway of her hips, the appreciation in her eyes. Soon he was moving as if he’d done this many times before. And as his confidence grew, as he loosened up, she shimmied up his leg, pressed her breasts against his chest and enjoyed the moment.
Her breath came in gasps and when the music sped up in preparation for the next pose, she flicked back her hair. “Your turn to pose.”
He hesitated. She lightly ran her hand up his leg, stopped just short of his sex. “It’s not fair if I have all the fun.”
The tempo sped to a crescendo, and she danced around him, mesmerized all over again by his powerful shoulders, his broad chest. She ached to dance flesh to flesh, hoped that if he agreed to the reversal of roles that he’d remove his shirt.
After seeing some of his effortless moves, she decided it was a good thing that Rystani men didn’t dance in public. She’d have to fight the women off him with a stick. Part of his appeal was all those muscles, his exotic amber eyes, the hard line of his jaw, and sleek black hair that reminded her of a panther, but what really made him special was how he let her see how much he wanted her.
When the music stopped, he posed for her. Standing warrior straight, legs spread, hands on his hips, he removed his vest, his pants. Totally nude, he could have posed for an ancient Greek statue—except for his tavis. She didn’t think the Greeks carved their men with erect phalluses.
Reaching up to him, staring straight into his eyes, she placed one fingertip on his chin, slid it down his neck, over his bronzed chest, dipped to his waist and threaded her fingers through curly dark hair. She skipped his sex, skimmed down the insides of his legs, then walked around to his back, lightly teasing his hip. He looked just as yummy from this side, and she slipped her hands around his waist, allowed her breasts to press against his warmth.
Staying close, her breasts soaking up his heat, she rested her hands on his shoulders, slowly kneaded the tight muscles. “Relax. This is supposed to feel good. We call it a massage.”
“That’s a very strange place you’ve chosen to rub.” His voice sounded rough, thick with desire.
“Is it?”
“Especially when other parts want you so badly.”
She moved one hand to his hard buttocks. “You mean here?”
He sucked in his breath. She giggled at his reaction to her touch and her tossing his own words back at him. Lightly she stroked the sensitive skin behind his balls. “You mean here?”
His tavis jerked so tight he let out a soft growl. She figured she’d pressed his patience far enough for now. “Let’s dance.”
And she turned her entire suit transparent, tipped her face up to him. “We can kiss and dance at the same time, can’t we?”
“I don’t see why not.” His mouth was alternately tender and demanding. She clung to him and he to her, their bodies swaying to the music in a dance they had made their own.
He cherished her mouth and her breasts, using his psi until she was nearly frantic.
When the music hit a note, warning her the next pose would be soon, she was a mass of quivering desires. Using her psi, she stroked his tavis. At the same time she floated herself into the air as if she was straddling a non-existent chair and his breath once again fanned her mons.
“Excellent choice. You’re so beautiful.” He gazed at her with wolfish hunger, then licked her right there.
She quaked with a passion. Let herself burn. “Ah . . . oh . . . oh . . . oh.”
Kahn locked her in place, all the while savaging her with his tongue, his hands, his lips and his psi until she trembled all over.
“Please.”
“Please what?”
“Ohhh . . . I can’t think . . . when you . . . ah.”
“Had enough foreplay, yet?”
“Oh . . . my . . . more than . . . enough. Yesssss.” Her muscles quivered, clenched. She clung to the intimate and delicious edge of sanity. Her thoughts spun and her simmering blood reached a scalding boil.
“Don’t come,” he ordered. “I want to be inside you for that.”
“Then you’d . . . ah . . . better . . . hurry.”
She tried to hold back. She really did. But his tongue between her legs created a wild, crazy, frenzied frothing that made her chest hitch. Out of breath, unable to wait, she exploded and screamed his name in a tidal wave of pleasure.
He kept his tongue and fingers and psi on her until she rode the wave and peaked again. And again. She’d never known this volcano of need boiling just below the surface. She’d never known she could swim so far, surf from crest to crest until the next swell broke and left her brutally breathless.
And when Kahn finally came inside her from behind, his pace fast, fantastic, frenetic, she savored his psi feeding off of her, ravishing her, in a pleasure loop so intense that she screamed in the ultimate surrender. He cradled her hips, his voice tender and raw, saying her name over and over as he emptied himself into her.
She exploded one more time. And recovered with him holding her tenderly against his thudding heart.