Chapter Five

Sunny

 

I hung onto Darq’s waist and snuck a look behind me. Gone! We’d lost the little buggers. Hopefully, they’d stay lost. I grinned and buried my face against his broad back to avoid the wind.

The six cambots had followed us. It had pissed me off when I discovered my luggage had been left aboard the ship, because it was no mistake. Apogee loved messing with me, setting up roadblocks, designing no-win challenges, and changing the rules in the middle of the game. They’d sent me to an alien planet stuck in an ice age. Taking my clothes and possessions was the last straw.

Darq hadn’t noticed, but cams had pretty much surrounded us to shoot from all angles. Then he’d started asking awkward questions like what I did for a living.

Do? Why, I’m a reality show star. Smile! You’re on Sunny Weathers’ Excellent Adventures.

I should have anticipated the question and come up with a suitable lie, but taken by surprise, I’d babbled on about pig farms and alligators. Yeah, the show had sent me to a pig farm, and to this day, I can’t stand to eat pork, and as far as I’m concerned, the only good alligator is a pair of designer boots. Or a nice designer handbag—like the one left behind on the ship. What did I need an alligator bag for on a primitive, icy planet you ask?

It was alligator!

As the cameras zipped around recording what we did and said, dismay at losing my luggage heated to anger. I wondered how fast cambots could fly. Could a skimmer “outrun” them?

I encouraged Darq to speed up—and we’d left the cameras to eat our snow.

You’re thinking I’d bitten off my nose to spite my face. No camera, no vid, no show—Sunny has to give the money back. I admit I was beginning to regret my impulsiveness. In the morning, I’d ask Darq if he’d take me out for another spin, and I’d rendezvous with the cameras. In the meantime, we’d have a little privacy.

Meeting any alien was awkward enough without having the encounter broadcast to the world. I had to get my head on straight and figure out how to handle the situation. The attraction had thrown me a curve ball.

From our first eye contact, I’d felt a zing in southern regions that hadn’t seen a lot of action in a long time. I should have rejected his proposal and waited for an alien I wasn’t attracted to. I shouldn’t be sitting scrunched up behind him, my front pressed to his back, my thighs straddling his hips, enjoying how his muscles contracted as we swerved among the trees. Most chefs I’d seen were overweight, but Darq obviously didn’t spend all his time cooking—or eating. I’d like to believe the vibrations from the machine caused my arousal, except the ride was way too smooth. But, I could think of another ride…

Stop it. Don’t go there.

Though preoccupied by losing my stuff, when Darq had shed his fur to offer it to me, I couldn’t help but notice how uh, equipped, he was—and how gentlemanly. Madison, the rat bastard, had abandoned us to the elements, but this alien had given me the coat off his back. His broad, strong back.

And he smelled good, too. I snuggled into the kel and inhaled his scent: earthy, masculine, comforting, protective—yeah, that was a lot to read into an animal hide.

I liked him. He had a sexy, deep, exotic-sounding voice, muscles to spare, and the cutest damn horns. They stuck out of his hair, about an inch. I wanted to touch them, find out if they were as leathery as they looked. Being a tad shy of six feet, I’m a sucker for tall men, and Darq made me feel petite. He’d given me his coat. He’d listened to me. I’d asked him to go fast—and he’d gone fast.

I hated misleading him, using him for the amusement of Terra’s viewing public. Now that we’d outrun the cameras, I needed to tell him the truth, but I cringed at the crushing disappointment I would see on his face. He believed he’d found a mate to settle down in an igloo in the suburbs with, to have two point four children, and whatever passed for a domesticated pet on this planet.

Dakon was nothing like Earth. It was a primitive, freezing wilderness, and right now, dark. When night fell, it crashed. Total blackness engulfed the woods. If not for the beams on the skimmer, we wouldn’t be able to see the trees. Cities covering every kilometer of Earth flooded the planet with light—which would never dim, now that Terra had a mega source of free illuvian ore. Many people lived on urban freighters, so even in the middle of the ocean, it never got this dark.

Riding through the Dakonian night, I felt as if I was floating in space.

Drifting.

Procrastinating.

“I need to tell you something.” I cleared my throat and then wrinkled my nose. “Do I smell smoke?”

“Yes, we’re not far from camp.” He slowed the vehicle.

Hurry. Hurry. I had to tell him before we were surrounded by people.

“You asked what I did…for work…”

“Yes. You said you were a pig farmer.”

That’s what he’d gotten from what I had said? “Do you know what a vid is?” The smell of smoke grew stronger.

“You watch people through a screen on the ’net.”

We leaned left to hairpin around a wall of icy-looking rock and then glided into a small camp of stone domes and Terran military-issue prefab housing units. Torches and a few illuvian-powered lamps chased back the night. We flew past the dwellings and stopped beside a hole in a mountain.

“We’re home!” he announced. I could hear the eagerness in his voice.

He lived in a cave? I’d heard they did, but I hadn’t believed it.

A bear of a man with a strong resemblance to Darq emerged. He gave a half turn to yell back inside, “They’re here!”

“I’m coming!” a woman shouted in perfect Terran English.

Darq grinned from ear to ear, his smile so wide and bright it lit up the night like an illuvian spotlight. “Torg! Meet my mate!” He beckoned me forward.

A blonde about as wide as she was tall, wrapped in a kel poncho, stepped out of the cave. I recognized that face—but from where? Then it hit me—I’d seen it plastered across the ’net during her murder trial. “You’re Starr Conner,” I said.

“You’re Sunny Weathers!” she exclaimed.

Darq looked surprised. “You’ve met?”

“No, but I used to watch her show all the time,” Starr said.

“Show?” He scrunched his forehead in confusion.

“Sunny Weathers’ Excellent Adventures!” Starr said. “It’s a reality show.” Her eyes widened as she connected the dots. “Are you filming?” She swiveled her gaze, and I knew she was looking for cameras.

Darq stood there so happy and proud, I couldn’t say a word. Already, I could tell he was going to be hurt. I didn’t need to humiliate him publicly by announcing the truth in front of everyone.

I hated Apogee for putting me in this position. I’d chosen Dakon to save Devon, but there should have been another way. The producers were crazy to think it wouldn’t cross somebody’s mind that me hooking up with an alien would be a stunt for the show. Gretchen had recognized me right off, and so had some others on the SS Deception. They’d accepted my explanation about being on hiatus, but my story wouldn’t hold up if people started talking.

I needed to confess, but, first, I had to get Darq alone.

“No,” I answered Starr. “I’m not filming.” Technically true, since I’d ditched the cameras. I sought Darq’s gaze. “You asked what I did for a living on Terra—I starred in ’net vids.”

“Oh,” he said, but I could tell he still didn’t understand.

“Welcome to the tribe.” Torg, the brother, got us back on track by finishing the introductions.

“Thank you.”

“Darq has been so excited,” Starr said. “I have, too! It will be great to have another woman in the family. A mate-in-law!” She hugged me.

“Let’s go inside where it’s warm,” Torg said.

Darq touched my elbow. “You go. I’ll join you in a minute. I have to return the skimmer to the shed in case someone wants to use it.”

I followed Torg and Starr through a tunnel lit by flickering torches. The passage led to a large room. “Oh, my gosh!”

Starr grinned. “You were expecting a dank, damp cavern, limestone stalactites and stalagmites, bat guano, and animal bones?”

“This is like a house!” Some sort of composite material covered the walls, and expensive-looking rugs layered the floor. Man-sized—alien sized?—sofas formed a right angle on one side of the cavern, opposite a kitchen area, where I recognized a high-tech flash cooker, a chill box, and an unused illuvian heater.

If not for the fire pit in the center, I could have been standing in a Terran apartment, albeit, a huge one. You could have fit my and Stormy’s entire unit in one corner. I eyed the fire. Centuries ago, Terrans had fireplaces, but no one did anymore. Light a fire in the house? It was dangerous. Some kind of meat roasted on a spit over the flames. No one cooked food over fire anymore, either. But, it sure smelled good. My stomach rumbled.

Starr shrugged out of her kel and motioned for me to hand her mine. I don’t know what surprised me more, the antique hall tree with umbrella stand and hat rack that she hung them on or Starr’s “condition.” The reason she appeared so roly-poly was because she was with child.

“You’re pregnant!”

She massaged her huge stomach. “Two more months to go!”

Good galaxy, she looked like she was two months past her due date. Of course, it stood to reason seven-foot aliens would sire big babies. I gulped. My pretend marriage would go unconsummated, but just in case I accidentally fell on Darq’s manhood in a weak moment of lust, I had the insurance of a contraceptive implant.

“Have you picked out a name?” I asked politely.

“Starlet,” Torg replied, and Starr rolled her eyes.

“Starlet,” he repeated.

“He wants to name the baby after me,” she said.

“Our daughter will be our little Starr. Does Starlet not mean little star?” Torg looked to me for confirmation.

I’d just gotten here. No way did I want to get in the middle of a marital tiff. “So, you’re having a girl,” I said.

“Yes! I produced a female.” He thrust out his chest.

That elicted another eye roll from Starr. “I helped some.” She rubbed her abdomen.

Grease from roasting meat dripped onto the flame, causing it to snap and sizzle. Torg scooted over to the pit. “My brother instructed me to turn this,” he said.

He’d no sooner rotated the meat when Darq entered the cavern. He hung up his fur. I don’t suppose you’d call the material he uncovered buckskin, as I’m sure his tunic and pants were sewn from kel and not deer, but that’s what his clothes looked like. The suede-like hide molded his barrel chest, massive biceps, and muscled thighs. Damn, he was fine!

He handed me my bag and smiled. “Here you go.”

“This all you brought?” Starr asked. “I expected the second phase of women to bring more stuff.”

“Yeah, well, they accidentally”—on purpose—“forgot to unload my trunk.”

Starr shook her head sympathetically, and I sensed she and I could become good friends. It would be nice to have a girlfriend. I missed my sister a lot. The ship’s communication ports didn’t have FTL capability, so it would have taken months for a message to get to her then months for a reply—and by then, the ship would be back on Terra. I wondered how Devon was doing. Had he had his surgery? I hoped that Andrea woman I’d heard about could help me find out.

Darq glanced at the meat then at Torg. “Did you turn it?”

“Of course I did.” Torg brushed at his mouth. I suspected he’d forgotten a few times.

“Did they show you the cave?” Darq asked me.

“We didn’t get a chance,” Starr said.

“Come, I will show you the rest, and then we will eat.” He led the way down a passage beyond the sofa area. Illuvian lamps lit up the tunnel, showing what the cave looked like without Terran modifications: rock walls and a hard-packed dirt floor. At a fork he pointed to the left. “My brother and Starr have a bedchamber that way. Mine—ours—is over here.” We veered right.

“Our room” was a quarter of the size of the big cavern and had been left in a more natural state, the gray stone walls uncovered, the floor mostly bare. A stack of kel furs served as the bed. Wood coals glowed in a small pit within a ring of rocks.

“The fires keep the cave warm.” I rubbed my hands over the heat. Illuvian heaters were much more efficient, but I had to admit a fire was mesmerizing and homey.

He nodded. “Insulation from the elements is better in a cave than in the Terran cabins. And the cave is more spacious. You’re limited to one room in the houses.”

His gaze shifted to the bed of kels and then to me. Was he thinking what I was thinking? Two bodies moving in sync, alien muscles bunching, horns quivering—did horns quiver?—oh baby, oh…I struggled to focus on what he was saying.

“But if you would prefer a Terran cabin, we can get one in the next supply shipment,” Darq offered.

If the stone walls offered protection from the cold, they could muffle sound. Not that there would be any noise emanating from this chamber. No heavy breathing, no impassioned cries of, “Take me now, you alien hunk.”

I could not touch the alien.

I needed to talk to him.

Tell him. Tell him now.

“This…this will be fine.” I hugged myself, gearing up for the confession. After he heard what I had to say, he might banish me to one of those Terran huts. We certainly wouldn’t be sharing one of the kel beds.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

Cold-hearted to have agreed to this adventure. “No, but I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of silver. Son of a production company executive. The cambot wagged from side to side, as if someone in the control room was saying, “Shame on you. We’re onto your tricks.”

How had it found me? I slapped a hand to my neck. The “translator” formed a slight bump under the skin. If Apogee producers had arranged for the SS Deception to “forget” to unload my luggage, I wouldn’t put it past them to have implanted me with a homing device. Those bastards!

“Sunny?” Darq’s forehead furrowed in concern. “You wanted to tell me something?”

With the camera rolling, I couldn’t tell him the truth without violating my contract. The viewing public had to believe I’d come for the right reason—and two million dollars so a little boy could get an artificial heart wasn’t it.

“I’m glad you chose me—and I like your cave very much. I would prefer to stay here than move to a Terran hut.” Living with Torg and Starr, we’d have less privacy—it would be easier to hold Darq at bay, easier to avoid succumbing to my urges. Hands off the alien.

“That makes me very happy.” A slow smile spread over his face, and his eyes crinkled with relief. He’d been afraid I was going to say I didn’t like him. The trouble was, I did like him.

What a mess.

The original plan had been to bring the alien aside, tell him the truth, and ask him to play along. Stupid idea. Emotions aside, what was in it for him? A big fat nothing.

Now that I’d met him, I realized my plan belonged in the hall of fame for idiocy. He’d be more likely to out me with the production company and the viewing public than play along with the deception. Why should he help me, when I’d hurt his feelings and dashed his chances to get a mate?

The contract required me to remain for one year, a long time to suppress my urges and hold him off. Nobody’s headache lasted that long. Right now, we were in the nice-to-meet-you phase, but eventually he would expect the relationship to progress to a physical level. Not to mention I had needs, which hadn’t been met in months, and I’m talking double digits. So, I wouldn’t be averse to a romp between the kels with Mr. Tall Darq, and “Horny,” except he would read far more into it than sex.

Think, Sunny, think.

Gah, I couldn’t put two thoughts together to form a sentence because he was watching me with a hopeful, happy puppy-dog look on his face.

“I should unpack.” I slipped my bag off my shoulder. “Is there a place where I can put my things?”

“Starr has some boxes she calls trunks. I’ll bet she has an extra. Would that do?”

“Perfect.”

“I’ll get you one. Be right back.” He trotted off.

I released my tension in a long sigh and dropped my bag on the kel bed. Thank goodness I’d anticipated foul play and packed my most important stuff in a carryall. I unzipped my white suit, stepped out of it, wadded it into a ball, and tossed it onto the bed in disgust. Scientifically advanced? Useless piece of—

“Don’t do that again, Sunny.”

I stifled a shriek and whipped around. About a half meter from my face, the cambot hovered like a hummingbird. “Ditching the camera in the woods was no accident,” a familiar voice boomed from the bot. “You’ve been trying to hit the camera. You’re on the verge of violating the terms of your contract.”

My heart pounded, but I refused to show how intimated I felt. I flipped my hair and glowered at the tiny lens. “It’s not my fault the cameras couldn’t keep up with the snow vehicle. And obviously, they aren’t lost because they’re here, and you’re talking to me.”

If I could communicate with the show’s producer back on Earth, the cambots had to be FTL-equipped. Only a faster-than-light transmission could allow us to converse without a noticeable time delay, and technology like that didn’t come cheap. Those little buggers had to cost more than the two million dollars I’d been paid—and there were six of them. No wonder Apogee had freaked when I’d started swinging.

The appearance of cambots with real time communication capability meant I could expect “coaching” sessions on what to say and do from now until the end of this stint.

Shit on a cracker. They would try to force me to try to create romance by leading Darq on. If I didn’t go the direction they wanted me to go, the situation could get ugly.

I glowered. “By the way, how did you manage to find me?”

Instead of replying, the cambot zoomed up and away to a dark corner, and a half a heartbeat later, Darq’s shadow spilled into the chamber before he entered with a small wooden trunk.

“Who were you talking to?” he asked.