Rodriguez’s eyes widened. “No, Sir!”
“What’s our status?”
“Twenty four hours. The communications officer tried to hail base, but there was no response.”
Dax frowned, feeling his gut tighten uncomfortably. “They must have a black out. Give it six and hail them again. Any sign of stalkers?”
“That’s a negative, Captain.”
Nodding, Dax retreated into his own thoughts. It wasn’t really that unusual for base to go silent. In fact, they didn’t respond almost as often as they did. The idea was not to be predictable, because there was always a chance the enemy might get hold of the frequency and try to hail them so that they could triangulate the beacon.
His gut was telling him it was a bad sign though. Unfortunately, not only was there not a damned thing he could do about it, right or wrong, but he wasn’t even sure he could trust his instincts at the moment.
They sure as hell hadn’t kicked in when he needed them or he would’ve left the fucking cabin before he succumbed to idiocy.
Sighing heavily, he propped his elbow on the armrest and dropped his chin onto his balled fist, staring balefully at the blackness of the viewing screen. He should have worked off his frustrations on one of the female crew members, he thought irritably. There were at least two that wouldn’t have minded scratching his itch, and if he’d taken care of the problem, it wouldn’t have gotten to be a huge problem.
He might have been able to exert a little more control.
Doubtful, he decided.
Ifshe’d just kept running instead of deciding to stop they would’ve both been better off.
Now he had a hell of a fucking mess on his hands.
He had no business with Lena, at all, for any reason. She didn’t belong in his world, couldn’t have fit in if she’d tried, and it wasn’t hard to see she didn’t want to try.
And he sure as hell didn’t fit into her world.
Not that he thought there was any likelihood that she would consider such a thing even if he would.
She was probably in the shower now scrubbing herself raw and trying to erase him from her body and mind.
He didn’t know why she’d let him--probably that soft heart of hers--but she was bound to regret it as soon as she’d had time to think it over.
Twenty four hours and she’d be off his hands.
Twenty four hours and he’d probably never set eyes on her again, not in this life time anyway because, sure as hell, the minute her feet touched down she was going to be off like a cat shot in the ass.
That would be a relief. A real fucking relief. It was just a god damned shame he hadn’t had enough brains to keep his dick in his pants in the meantime, because it was going to be hell trying to put her out of his mind.
* * * *
The bed was cold when Lena finally cracked a wary eye and glanced around the room. Without a great deal of surprise, she saw that Dax was gone. Stretching, she lay frowning at the ceiling for a while, wondering what had possessed her to provoke Dax when she’d seen he was struggling against his needs. She shouldn’t have pushed it. She should have left well enough alone. He didn’t need her. He didn’t need anyone and it had been stupid and sappy of her to think that it was her he needed when all he’d really needed was to get laid.
She didn’t blame him for something that had been her own decision, regardless of what he’d seemed to think at the time, and she certainly didn’t hate him. It had been every bit as wonderful as she’d known it would be and she was going to try to look upon the experience in a positive light.
She’d wanted him. He’d wanted her. They’d had wild, fabulous sex, and that was that.
It wasn’t going to develop into something more meaningful, not for him anyway. She knew that. She’d known that all along, and she’d also known that she was too susceptible to becoming emotionally entangled with him to risk it without also risking terrible emotional pain. If she suffered the consequences she had no one to blame but herself, but she thought she was going to be all right. They couldn’t be very far from home, now, she knew. How deeply could she fall in so short a space of time?
* * * *
Lena discovered for the first time since she’d boarded the ship that she was bored. That was her first indication that her outlook had changed radically. The second was when she realized she kept checking the time and wondering when Dax would go to the mess hall.
She hadn’t willingly left the dubious security she’d felt being in Dax’s cabin since she’d been with the rebels. It disturbed her to realize that she wanted to leave it because she wanted to be with Dax and she knew she wouldn’t be allowed to go up to the bridge. She didn’t find it particularly comforting to realize that nothing had changed, really, except that Dax had said he knew her. One vote of confidence out of an entire crew, especially coming from a man like Dax, shouldn’t have been enough to give her the sense of security she felt now. Of course, he was the captain, and she knew his crew would obey him, but she also thought she knew Dax pretty well. If it served his purposes, he would lie, and do it very well.
He might only have told her he believed her and knew she was who she claimed to be because it had suited him to do so at the time, maybe for no other reason than to knock a hole in her defenses so that he could get a piece of ass.
