Page 20 of Stealing the Star Stone

Chapter Fourteen

Viator IV Shuttle

I knew it was too good to be true.

Day Three.

With her focus on the largest asteroid, Nova asked, “Computer, who’s chasing us?”

“Assessing scanners,” the voice droned.

“Why didn’t we think to ask sooner?” Thorne’s good humor was still present in the curve of his lips.

His good humor had gone a long way to easing the tension in her shoulders. As did the residual hot tea in her belly. Frederik was a godsend, having prepared them better than she could’ve hoped.

“The ship’s markers are not in any known database,” the computer said.

“Pirates? What are the odds?” Thorne hurried to the weapons locker and started arming himself.

She grinned. “Fat lot that’s going to do you when we’re jettisoned into space. And the odds are pretty high. Space beyond the station-sec’s boundaries is a free-for-all. Computer, plan an escape route with Lethara in our sights.”

“It can do that?” he asked, kneeling to strap a blaster to her thigh.

She swiveled the chair to grant him access while keeping her hands on the lever. “Let’s just hope they don’t have tracking missiles. All this weaving will be for nothing.”

With him between her thighs, she relished his shoulders nudging her, the dip of his head, the brush of his fingers, all while praying none of it aroused her.

Sporting a hard-on now would be so inconvenient.

Regardless of her opinion on the matter, life stirred in her groin.

As soon as he leaned back, she faced the console, tempted to fold a leg over the other.

It was his cock, after all. Surely she need not hide its misbehavior from him.

But what she was truly trying not to reveal was how he could garner such a reaction out of her.

She’d stated no kissing. No anything, and yet, they’d been inches away from doing exactly what she’d claimed was disgusting to her.

In two days, she’d gone from seeing him as an intruder in her body, to just seeing him. The outer appearance no longer played a role in her impression of him.

Another jolt hit the shuttle’s ass.

“How much more of that can we take?” he asked, sliding a dagger into her boot.

“Shields are at 72 per cent,” said the computer. “Escape route planned.”

“Take control,” she said, flipping a switch.

The shuttle veered right, away from Lethara. She opened her mouth to ask why, but the forescreen altered, showing the projected path. Oh, now that’s brilliant.

She grinned. “Clever.”

“What?” Thorne asked, stuffing the knapsack with bottles of water, and her box of tea—the sweetheart.

“She’s taking us past—”

“She?” He paused.

“Yes,” Nova snapped. “ She’s taking us past a research station in the Kegawa Belt, barely manned but still in use. That would put the pirates in station-sec’s territory.”

“And once they’ve abandoned the chase, we can head to Lethara.” He chuckled. “That is ingenious.”

“Found any space blankets?”

He frowned. “None. Damn things are so tiny when compressed. Could be a sheet of paper and I wouldn’t know.”

“You’ve done well so far.” She met and held his gaze. “We can do this.”

“One step at a time.”

She pursed her lips then admitted, “I hate and like that we’re working as a team.”

He laughed. “That’s because I’m not fondling parts of your body.”

“True.” But it wasn’t. Not anymore. Besides the breast-jiggle from last night, he’d been amazing at keeping her clean, dressed—for the most part—and STD free. Though it had been touch and go there with Xander Payne.

“ Viator IV , do you require assistance?” A woman’s face appeared on the screen. “Oh my word, is that Eli Thorne?” she gasped, glanced away, then a man joined her.

Since they were both in station-sec uniform, Nova pasted on a broad smile. “Hi, yes, we’re on a joyride and have been shot at by what our computer says are pirates.”

The woman squealed. “No one’s going to believe we rescued the Eli Thorne.” She cleared her throat, fluffed her hair, and gave Nova a seductive look. “We’ll come up behind you as a deterrent. Can you confirm your destination?”

“Lethara,” Nova said.

The woman jerked back. “But it’s overrun with Lord Orien’s xeno-archeologists.” Her face scrunched up like she’d touched an unknown jelly-like substance. “They don’t take too kindly to station-sec interference.”

“Yes,” Nova said, “well, let’s hope we don’t cross paths with them. I’m hoping to find suitable locations for my next movie. It will determine how I develop the character. Doing my part for my fans, y’know,” she drawled.

The woman fanned herself. “Oh, yeah, how sweet of you. Are you filming this?” she hissed to someone on the side.

“It’s a surprise, of course,” Nova went on, giving the woman a wink. “I need to reach Lethara before the paparazzi do, y’know, to get settled. Then the press can have their field day.”

“We’ll keep your secret, Mr. Thorne,” the man crooned.

“Oh, call me Eli,” Nova said.

“It’ll be in the news the moment this call ends,” Thorne whispered. “And I don’t say ‘y’know’ all the time.”

Nova huffed, then cleared her throat. “Any chance you can escort us to Lethara? We’re trusting the navigational system to know where it is.”

The woman hesitated, tapped something before her, then grinned. “Yes, we can certainly do that for you, Eli .”

“You two are amazing,” Nova gushed. “I’m so happy you stumbled upon me.”

“Us,” Thorne hissed.

“Confirming pirates are withdrawing,” the woman said. “We’ll loop around you to lead the way, and make sure there are no more pesky delays.”

“You have my eternal thanks. And should we ever meet in person, I’d like to invite the two of you to dinner.”

The woman giggled. “Why, thank you, Eli.” The screen blanked.

“Computer, abort the escape route and follow that station-sec,” Nova said.

“That was a little thick,” Thorne said, coming to stand behind Nova.

“We need all the help we can get. Besides, what’s a dinner with fans?”

“They’ll want sex. They always do.” He slumped against a panel. “Asking for an escort was genius, by the way. Is it wrong of me to be happy it’s pirates and not Orien?”

She smiled. “Not at all. With that kind of riffraff, we know what to expect. Orien’s as slippery as they get.”

“We’re armed and ready. So far, so good.”

She stood for a stretch. “We need to find the cave and fast. Once the paparazzi gets wind of this, Orien will know, too.” Since he’d packed away the tea, she’d settle for a coffee. Not her favorite, but it would do.

While cradling the hot cup to her chest, she went through the panels, browsing what was stacked inside. “The usual, and that’s a theodolite. I’d say to pack it, but I don’t know how to use it. A source of light would be great. Did you find a flint, matches, a lighter?”

“Got a solar-powered torch.” He laughed. “If we get to charge it first.”

“I suppose if we fired the blaster at dry kindling, it might light it.”

“I doubt it.” His brow furrowed. “Let me search again. It’s not much of an expedition if we can’t start a fire. You think we’ll need to?”

“I want to plan for it, just in case. I don’t know what’s on that moon.

If the fire only serves as a deterrent for the local wildlife, it would be good to have.

” She headed into the bathroom to pee—again—and splashed water on her face.

Dark stubble had formed along her jaw. She scratched it, finding it semi-itched. “How many times a week do you shave?”

“Once.” He popped his head through the door she’d forgotten to shut. “I could get the follicles removed, but if I have a role needing a beard, I’d have to sit for hours in the make-up chair.”

“What is your next role?”

“Another space cowboy.” He winced. “More time spent in the saddle.”

“On a horse?” she gasped.

“Yeah, or something alien-looking. Days of having a sore ass. Maybe this time, I’ll get to ride a speeder, instead.”

“Why not suggest it?” she asked, flipping her hands under the sunbeam—a flash of heat that sterilized.

“I haven’t seen the script yet. Besides, family first, remember.”

She smiled. “I do. Might as well tell me about them, just in case we get stuck like this.”

“Then we’re getting married,” he said, with all seriousness.

She froze, raising her gaze to his. Logically, it made sense. If anyone found out they’d swapped bodies, it wouldn’t be medical examinations they’d have to worry about, but psychology assessments and possibly the psych ward.

“No one would believe we ‘fell in love,’” she said. “Everyone knows we hate each other.”

He didn’t answer, taking his time to study her. “Hate’s a strong word.”

Her heart leaped into her throat; his expression sparking a fire in her belly. “It is,” she managed to say. “One step at a time.”

“Yeah,” he said, cupping her cheek and running a thumb along the stubble. “It’s going to start itching.”

“It has,” she said, resisting the urge to nuzzle the palm of his hand. “When you said lactose intolerant, does that mean chocolate, too?”

“Unfortunately.”

She pursed her lips. “Forsaking all things chocolate is sacrilege.”

“I know.” He shifted back and massaged his breasts. “Could sure do with some now. Why do these ache? And why are your nipples so damn sensitive?”

“You don’t like?” she teased.

“No.” He scowled. “Not the good kind of sensitive. It’s on the verge of painful.”

“All par for the course,” she said, slipping between him and the door.

“You women hide this discomfort so well. I never knew.” He lifted his forefinger in a ‘eureka’ moment. “They should teach this to boys.”

“Vice versa,” she said, ticking off on her fingers. “Horny all the time, never kick a man in the balls, teensy weensy bladder, never shake after a pee, and hair in all the strangest places.”

“What hair?” he asked then laughed. “And how do you know this?”

“I told you I peeked.” She touched her ear, pulling back with a long hair pinched between her fingers. “What’s this?”

“Ah, the stylist usually takes care of those.”

“My point, exactly.” She opened the weapons locker, now missing a few pieces. “Frederik… What an amazing man.”

“Indeed. And we have you to thank for his help.”

“Me?” She touched her chest then lowered her hand when he stared at her.

“Yeah, offering him a job might have started him thinking that working for Orien wasn’t his only option in life.”

She shrugged. “He saved me from your fans with such ease. The poor guy must’ve been used for his size his entire life.”

“Trust you to go all soft like that. A man wouldn’t think about his childhood and how he was bullied.” Thorne leaned his shoulder against the panel. “With his size, he could’ve done the bullying.”

Everything within her rebelled at that suggestion. “No, his heart’s too big. He would’ve protected those weaker than him.”

Thorne’s smile was sweet, sincere. “You think he rescued injured birds and kittens.”

“Don’t you?” She splayed her fingers across his cleavage. “Aren’t we the kittens in this scenario?”

Thorne covered her hand with his, trapping her. The padding beneath her touch was intriguing. “We were hours away from Artivar. He could’ve left us to Orien’s devices, let me get arrested, and walked away. We wouldn’t have blamed him since he was only doing his job.”

“But he saved us,” she said, trying to move away.

“True,” he said. “And will be rewarded for that, as soon as we’re…fixed.”

“Or not.”

Into the silence, the computer said, “Destination in thirty minutes.”

Thorne released her, only to wrap his arms around her waist, and press his cheek to her chest. It was odd hugging someone shorter than her when she’d been the short person. And yet, enfolding him in an embrace felt right.

A tingle on her arm had her pulling back. Before her eyes, the blue tendrils spread to the inside of her elbow, then formed another symbol.

“Day three,” he whispered, comparing tattoos.

“Shit,” she said. “It is a timer.”

“I wonder if I can decipher your tattoo.” He sifted through the books until he waved the one holding the alphabet.

She paled. “Now?”

He raised his gaze. “Don’t you want to know? Maybe the tattoo artist wrote something stupid instead, like ‘no regerts.’”

“It was so long ago, Thorne. Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter. I’m having it removed when I reach Artivar.”

“I’m still curious.” Then, to her shock, he unzipped his jeans and exposed his ass. “What’s the first letter?”

She tried to hide a grin. If she had to describe each symbol, then she could mislead him. “That one,” she touched the symbol for the letter ‘N.’

‘ No regerts’ it is.