“She’s in the hold, Captain.”
“Fuck!” Dax growled. Striding from the room, he sprinted down the corridor toward the aft tube, hooked the heels of his boots on the vertical bars and slid down the three levels to the hold.
She was arguing with the guard when he landed. Shaking his hands to cool the friction burn, he headed toward the bow where the brig was located.
She whirled to face him when she heard his boots clicking along the metal tiles of the corridor. For several moments, she merely stared at him, as if she was trying to gather her wits.
“You bastard!” Lena snarled when she saw that it was Dax who’d come up behind her and the soldier, her fear and frustration instantly transformed into rage. Launching herself at him, she swung at him with her fists, landing blows at wild random, mostly on his hard arms and shoulders. “Why didn’t you just leave me there? You’re as bad as they are!”
It only fed the flames of her fury that he made no attempt to evade her or to block the punches she slung at him. It only made her more determined to hurt him.
“Damn you!” she screamed at him hysterically when she’d beat at him until her fists and arms were bruised all over and she could hardly lift them to swing at him.
He caught her wrists. “Finished?” he snarled at her through gritted teeth, giving her a hard shake.
“No!” she screamed back at him, fighting the sudden wobble in her chin. “I’ll kill you if anything happens to Nigel because of you! Why did you drag him into this, damn you?”
“You dragged him into this,” he said tightly.
The statement was as effective as a slap, knocking the hysteria out of her like a stunning physical blow. She stared up at him in dawning horror as the image flickered through her mind of her and Nigel at the diner and her trying to hint of her fears about Morris.
“Or, if you need somebody else to blame besides yourself, blame Morris. But don’t blame me, lady. I came into this on the tail end.”
“You want me to lock her up, captain?”
Dax’s head swiveled toward the guard. “No!” he snarled.
Grabbing Lena by one arm, he shoved her back down the corridor toward the access tube. Halting when they reached the tube, he jerked her around to face him, grasped her jaw, and lowered his own face until they were almost nose to nose. “I owed you that. I know you’re scared, and I’m used to pain, but that doesn’t mean I like it. Don’t ever try that with me again, especially not in front of one of my men. Understood?”
Lena gaped at him in sudden fear, realizing she must have been completely out of her mind to attack him. She’d never done anything like that in her life before, and deciding to pick a huge brute like Dax for her first victim was not the act of someone with a sound mind. Numbly, she nodded at him. “I’m sorry,” she said weakly.
Releasing her abruptly, he pushed her toward the ladder. “Climb.”
Swallowing with an effort, Lena grasped a rung and began to climb. “Where are we going?” she asked worriedly when they’d passed two levels and he’d said nothing more.
Instead of answering her, he glared at her when she glanced back at him.
When they reached the level of the crew quarters, he told her to get off. Feeling extremely uneasy, she did, waiting until he’d climbed off and grasped her arm. She made no attempt to resist as he led her along the corridor, until she saw the destination he had in mind. She hung back then, for all the good it did.
He simply yanked her forward and continued as if he was completely unaware that she was trying to resist.
If he hadn’t still looked as black as a thundercloud, she might have been able to find enough of her spine to complain. As it was, her tongue felt as if it was glued to the roof of her mouth.
When he’d opened the door to his cabin and shoved her in, she stumbled toward the bunk, tried to catch her balance and finally sprawled across it on her side, staring up at him wide eyed.
He stared back at her for several moments and finally looked away. “Damn it to hell, Lena. Don’t look at me like that!” he growled, moving away finally and throwing himself down in the chair behind his desk.
After searching the drawers, he pulled out a tumbler and a bottle and poured himself a drink.
Lena sat up slowly, licking her dry lips to moisten them. “You said....”
He sent her a narrow eyed look.
“I’m not … I’m not … I won’t...,” she stammered.
His lips thinned. He transferred his gaze from her to the brown liquid in his glass, studied it a moment, and downed the liquid in one swallow. “I think I might be able to contain myself,” he retorted dryly.
Embarrassment flushed Lena’s face and throat with heat. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not that he’d remembered the ‘threat.’ On the one hand, she was almost surprised that he did and that she hadn’t had to say anything more to remind him that he’d told her he would consider it as an invitation if he found her in his bed again.
