Page 12 of Stealing the Star Stone

Chapter Eight

Tarnis’ Messis Station

Skycrop Café

What the hell’s going on?

Day One.

Nova snorted when Eli tried to hide a smirk by stuffing slices of pawpaw into his mouth.

Like she couldn’t see him. She ignored his childish behavior, relishing each bite of the selection of cheeses on her platter.

She had to wonder though, why neither of them had lost their shit over this new development?

He hadn’t reacted because throwing a tantrum in public wasn’t something she’d ever heard he did. And he could, now a nobody in her body.

But why hadn’t she? When avoiding the paparazzi wasn’t instinctual for her.

Drawing attention to their situation seemed stupid.

Maybe that’s why she’d yet to wail at the fates and their silly games.

And she’d be forced to ‘stay’ with him. Pretend to be him while watching him act like her or his perception of her.

Shopping for a new wardrobe wouldn’t dent his credits, as wealthy as the paparazzi purported him to be, and she did need clothes.

She’d been right about that. And it would give her a chance to ‘talk’ to him about this insane situation.

Traveling with Orien was a risk, but it made sense.

She’d expected Thorne to object; then again, he didn’t stand to lose his job.

He had little skin in the game other than getting his body back.

Solving this took priority. She hummed on a sip of Lady Grey, cradling the cup as if it were liquid gold.

Thorne shoved aside his unfinished meal and rose to his feet. “Let’s get this over and done with.”

She blinked at him. “What? Now?” Maybe getting this mission started sooner was wise. She set her cup down and rose. “My thanks for breakfast, Vex.”

The man waved mid-chew.

“I would like it in writing,” Thorne said, playing into Nova’s distrust of everyone.

“Once we find this rock, I want you to leave me alone.” He splayed her fingers on the table and leaned in.

“I’m not an idiot, Orien. You’re going to want to test my blood.

Any xeno-archeologist worth his salt would have noticed we sport the same blue stains. Your rock did that to us.”

“Mm, I was going to ask you about that.” Orien studied his palm. “I find it intriguing that you two caused such a potent reaction.” He peered at them both. “No other effects?”

“I damn well hope not,” she said, then winked at Thorne. “Come, Nova, let’s get you out of that uniform.”

“You can get that thought right out of your head, Thorne,” he said, circling the table to reach her. Then with a huff, he marched off, adding an extra sway to her hips, the idiot.

“I do like to watch you walk away, darling,” she crooned, smothering a giggle—something a movie star like him wouldn’t do. Still, she was tempted.

She trailed him, amazed at how he knew where to go.

Frederik remained on the outskirts of her peripherals; there if needed, so to speak.

Probably to keep tabs on them and ensure they made it to Orien’s ship.

That thing better be space-worthy or else.

No way was she going to die in some ill-maintained death trap he called a research vessel.

She peeked at Frederik, considering asking him.

But she didn’t bother when he might not know and she’d find out soon enough.

Thorne veered into a clothing store she wouldn’t have glanced at.

The items on display were super expensive and made with natural cloth.

Synthetics were all she could afford. The ass better not be thinking of slinky and silky.

The last time she wore anything sensual was for her anniversary, the year before Seth died.

She wasn’t about to dress-up for Thorne, no matter what he said.

Being tall had the bonus of giving her an almost bird’s-eye view of the shop’s layout. Thorne had already thrown garments over his arm and in colors that might look good on her. They were too dark but at least they weren’t in oranges or pinks. She couldn’t pull off those with her hair coloring.

“Trying these on,” he called, heading to the changing booth.

She bolted, panic widening her eyes and ratcheting her heartrate. Whipping the curtain back summoned a squeak from the shop assistant. “Wife,” she muttered to the poor, flustered girl. She took a moment to press a forefinger to her lips like it had to be a secret.

Thorne glared at her, his cheeks flushed. “Get in here, then.”

She squeezed in, realizing how big the bastard actually was. “Good,” she whispered, checking they were closed in without the shop assistant eavesdropping. “What the fuck happened?”

“You’re asking me?” He hung up an array of dresses she wouldn’t have chosen. “You touched the damn rock.”

“At your insistence.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting for calm.

“All right. Neither of us knew it would do this, so let’s set that blame aside.

We need to figure out how to fix whatever this is.

” She flicked a finger between them. “And this blue shit is spreading. Or am I imagining it?” She sank onto a rickety seat, bringing her gaze in line with her cleavage.

“This is all manner of fucked up. And don’t think you’re going to strip—”

“How else do I try these on? Are you even listening to yourself?” And down went the zip of her uniform.

“I swear, Thorne, if you so much as reveal a nipple, I will neuter you.” She spread his thighs, grabbed his balls, and wrenched. Pain radiated outward, and she stiffened. “Shit,” she groaned, bending over.

“Yeah, hurts like hell,” he said, sliding the uniform off her shoulders.

Thank goodness for her white bra—the better of the two she owned.

“Now you listen to me.” He dipped to snag her gaze. “Quit acting feminine,” he gritted out, smacking her hand she’d pressed to her chest as if to say, ‘moi?’

“Fine, if you walk like you don’t have two massive balls between your legs,” she hissed.

He rolled his eyes. “You can’t go around acting like a woman and telling everyone we’re married. That’s gold dust to the paparazzi. Hell, I better fill Graham in on this. We’re going to need him to curb the fallout from this disaster.”

She winced, trying to ignore the fading twinges in his groin.

“It explains us living together. You’re not getting any alone time with my body, Thorne.

” She wagged a finger in his face. Her face.

Oh, Lord. Dropping his face into his hands muted the moan that slipped out.

Sitting up, she sucked in a sharp breath.

“Back to the matter. I don’t trust Orien, but he has to know something about switching us back. ”

“The man hasn’t got a clue. I tried to find out more last night, only to realize he’s our best hope of getting another star stone and undoing this.”

“Star stone?” She harumphed. “Well, I’ll have to milk him for information. Seems like he’s taken a shine to you.”

“Yeah, that cost me a small fortune. We need his trust…for now. He had every intention of kidnapping you and doing a full dissection.”

“I knew it,” she rasped. “Made no sense to release me, then take me to breakfast, all without having an agenda. Well, I’ll give him a blood sample like you promised. Maybe that will appease him. But that’s it. We’re in this shit together, Thorne.”

Off went her uniform’s top half, leaving her pants in place.

He peeled on a dress, letting it slither over her hips to her knees.

The lines of the dress were ruined by the pants beneath, but she was grateful she was covered, none the less.

The deep red with massive white orchids softened her features.

“Looks like a crime scene,” she said.

He grinned. “It does. Next.”

“Can’t you choose items I’ll wear after this is over?” She fingered the fabric of a deep blue summer dress patterned with tiny white flowers.

“I suppose a few boring clothes could be added to the bill.” He glided her hands down her waist and over her hips, turning a little to admire the half-bare back. “This one I like.”

“Well, I don’t,” she said, tugging on the bra straps sticking out.

“Mm, shopping for a woman’s harder than I thought. Go pick a few things, would you?”

She studied him, trying to gauge whether he’d peek at her intimate bits under her uniform pants.

Him seeing all of her was unavoidable. He had to pee at some point.

She grimaced, not wanting to even think about that upcoming ordeal.

The last time she’d handled a cock was beyond her ability to remember.

“Fine.” She left, pausing to close the curtain before pacing along the racks, yanking off pants, blouses, and yes, a dress or two. She’d need evening wear and… Gritting her teeth, she hooked bras and panties off their racks.

Heat scorched her cheeks. She’d wanted the ass delivered to Artivar and out of her life.

This… All of this was a nightmare. “These will fit,” she said, peeking into the booth.

Her stomach churned and she frowned, using an empty hand to press to her abdomen.

Maybe his body hadn’t agreed with the tea?

What else could it be? “Allergic to anything?” she asked. It would be good to know.

“No,” he said. “Shoes?”

She huffed, dropped the bundle on the counter, and headed to the racks at the back. Boots, heels, sneakers in black filled her arms minutes later.

“I’ll take those,” the shop assistant said, her gaze lingering, her mouth parted as if she couldn’t breathe. “Is she really your wife?”

“Soon to be,” Nova said, forced to remember what the girl was seeing—suave and sexy Thorne.

Said ass strolled out under a mountain of clothes. “All of these, sweetheart,” he said, winking at her.

“Are you sure?” Nova gestured with a finger to the shop and beyond.

“Yeah, I’m tired.” Thorne pouted and fluttered his eyelashes.

“Of course, honey pot ,” she said, using the worst endearment she could think of. “Frederik, tell the lady where the ship is, please. Have these delivered, miss.” She swiped the paypad, trying not to gawk at the amount.

“Very well, Mr. Thorne.” Frederik gathered the bags. “I have taken the liberty of having your things transferred to the Laurus .”

“Thanks,” she said, unable to ignore the pressure building in her gut. “I have one more stop.”

“As you wish,” Frederik said.

“Where to?” Thorne whispered as they headed to the sky pods.

“Orbit & Oolong. I doubt Orien has Lady Grey on board.”

“Of course.” Thorne sighed. “And you better hurry. You’re going to need a bathroom soon.”

She glared at him, realization dawning. “You could’ve warned me,” she snapped. “How was I supposed to know you’re lactose intolerant?”

“I tried to tell you.”

She huffed, stepping into the pod. Crowded in the corner didn’t stop her from leaning in to mutter, “You could have tried harder. Watch my weight, indeed.” Tarnis below became a blur the higher up they traveled, but what awaited her lay heavy on her mind.

“Dealing with your nethers would have been better without an upset tummy.”

“Upset?” He chuckled. “Sure, why not call it that. Are you allergic to anything?”

“Besides you?” she asked, arching a pointed brow. “No.”

As soon as the pod doors opened, she headed to the tea shop, flashing Arell a smile before ordering boxes of her favorite tea and a box or two of Thorne’s.

Just in case since she was spending his credits.

With that in hand, she gestured to Frederik to lead the way.

Of course, Orien’s ship would receive priority docking, and damn if it didn’t gleam in the weak sunlight.

The thing was pretty, all polished silver, white lighting, and state-of-the-art ion engines.

Maybe this trip wouldn’t be that bad. She could pretend it was a vacation in a den of snakes. Doable if she kept her head down and her ears primed. And made Orien think they were the best of friends.

“We should be honest with each other,” she said, climbing the lowered ramp into the belly of Laurus . “Have each other’s backs, y’know.”

“Sure,” Thorne said.

“No more surprises.” She met his gaze then smiled at Orien striding toward them. “What a magnificent ship,” she said, throwing her arms out wide.

“Glad you like it.” Orien beamed.

“If you don’t mind, Vex, I’d like to freshen up. Shall we meet for drinks in a bit?”

“Absolutely. I’ll give you the tour.” Orien waved his hand.

Four men crowded them, their gazes menacing.

“Vex?” she asked when one of his men pinned Thorne’s arms behind his back. “I thought we had a deal.”

“I lied.”