“We’ll need to dig a fire pit. It helps hide the flames,” she said. “Old assassin trick to avoid detection.”
“I look forward to learning more of your tricks.”
They dug the pit, started a fire, and dined on roasted lizard. Then they made love in the firelight, Ria moving above him, watching every flicker of pleasure on his face.
Zayn’s hands slid up to cup her breasts, his hips thrusting upward every time she thrust down, lodging him deep inside her. “You’re a damn fine rider after all, cowgirl.”
She came again with laughter on her lips, wishing the dawn would never arrive.
Zayn pulledthe horse to a stop at the peak of the hill. “There’s Bedlam. Tweedle-dee and Dumb didn’t take us too far away.”
Down below, Ria studied the small town that lay nestled on the plain. A small cloud of dust rose above it and the metal roofs of the buildings glinted in the morning sun.
“Let’s go find Lala,” she said from in front of him. “And get off this horse.” She shifted for about the hundredth time. She was so sore.
He smiled. “I’m trying to have sympathy for you.” He leaned down and nuzzled her neck. “But since we both had such a damned good time making you ache, I’m having trouble drumming up more than a twinge of guilt.”
“Yeah, well, you owe me a massage, flyboy.”
He tugged her back against him. “Whatever the lady wants. It’ll be no trouble for me to strip your clothes off, lay you back on my bunk on theInfinitas, and caress you all over.”
The image was so clear in her head and had desire curling in her belly. She turned her head, battling a smile. “Such sacrifice.”
“For you, anything.”
Her smile slipped and she just watched him. She saw discomfort crawl across his face.
“I mean, since I helped make you sore, it’s the least I can do.”
“Of course.” She cleared her throat. “Now, let’s find Lala, and avoid any more cowboys who want to kidnap us, sell us to miners, or blow us up.”
They left the horse tethered at the edge of town. “The saloon’ll be the best place for information.” He flashed her a grin. “And I wouldn’t mind a cold ale.”
She rolled her eyes. “Men are all the same, no matter where they’re from.” She took a step in the direction of the saloon.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed her arm and spun her around, sending her bouncing up against his hard chest. He dipped his head, his lips tickling her ear. “We aren’t the same. Us space jocks, we have that little something that makes us different.” He nipped her ear. “You haven’t ever met a man like me.”
Ria shivered. They’d had each other three times during the night, and still desire fired inside her like a supernova. “We’ll see, Phoenix. We’ll see.”
He let her go with a predatory grin that lit up his face. “I like a challenge.”
She just bet he did. She wondered, if she did manage to escape the Guild with her life, would she also escape Zayn Phoenix with her heart and body unscathed.
They walked side-by-side to the large building that housed the saloon. Sloe-eyed girls lounged on the upstairs balcony smoking long thin cigarettes, watching them with heavy-lidded curiosity.
Zayn pushed open the swinging doors, and Ria followed him inside.
An honest-to-God Pianola sat against the wall, playing a cheerful, tinny tune. It was made of wood, and she suspected there wasn’t a computer inside but old-fashioned pneumatics. The jaunty music filled a room that was crowded with cowboys of all shapes and sizes. A long, wooden bar ran the length of one wall and two bartenders—one bear of a man with a bright-red bow tie and the other a tiny flame-haired woman—worked hard serving frothing ales and amber liquid in glasses of questionable cleanliness.
A few women circled the room, pausing here and there to laugh with customers and lean over a shoulder to offer unobstructed views of generous cleavage. There was no doubt what their occupation was. Their outfits consisted of dresses in gaudy, bright colors, long in back and cut high in front to display bare legs or silk stockings. Tight corsets cinched in tiny waists and accentuated clearly enhanced breasts.
Ria felt a stab of pity for them. She studied one girl, who looked so incredibly young, sporting too much makeup, artificially-blonde hair piled high on her head, and jaded eyes. How sad to have no other options but to sell your body.
Ria followed Zayn to the bar, taking the opportunity to admire the back view of him in his jeans. The man was built long and lean, and she liked it far too much.
He leaned against the bar and waved a hand at the bartender. The huge man lumbered over. “Whisky or ale? We take gold or silver, no e-creds.”
“We’ll take two ales.” Zayn slapped two gold coins on the scarred bar. “And if you can tell the location of a certain young explosives expert, there’s more coin for you.”
