“Sometimes fruit is just fruit,” Spiro grumbled.
“And sometimes it has a grenade in it,” Grey replied.
Spiro’s eyebrows rose over his glasses. “What sort of peaches have you been partaking in?”
Mace continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “If we knew for sure this was the only freighter traveling this route, I wouldn’t hesitate to raid it. But blowing our cover now means risking a bigger, future score.” He’d follow Cache’s lead when it came to acting hastily.
The three others remained silent. With no further disagreement, Mace turned to the controls. “Spiro, tag it.”
The digital marker would allow Cache to send a fleet of Cetans to see what was going on.
Mace reduced their speed until the freighter disappeared from sight, the Cetan’s heat signature concealed in the other ship’s energy wake. When it was safe, he turned the ship around and headed for home.
A two-hour flight and they’d be back atOrion.
For the first time in a long time, the thought of returning home not only contented him, but he was becoming downright buoyant—all because of a certain curly-haired doctor.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Chapter seventeen
Niaglaredatthedoor, her palms flat against the cool metal of the table, her spine pressed against the chair. Grit lived in her eyeballs, making the room around her blur. Exhaustion made her sway. It had been hours since she’d decided to wait, ready, for Mace’s return.
At first, she’d been annoyed. He’d left so suddenly, not telling her anything, and she’d expected him to return with information, to explain what was going on and who, or what, had initiated a proximity alert.
The yellow alarm had stopped, and he hadn’t returned. Her annoyance turned into frustration. Hours passed, and she’d gotten angry. Now she seethed with rage, fingers flexing against the tabletop.
She’d only managed to get a couple hours’ sleep between frustration and anger and she wasn’t moving until Mace returned. He had to collect her for her shift at some point, right?
The door slid open. Nia jumped to her feet, grabbed the orange sitting beside her hand, and whipped it at his head.
At the last second, Mace ducked out of the way, lips parting in shock, eyes wide.
She had another orange ready and threw it. This one he deflected. She grabbed the peach and whipped it. He caught it in one hand. Ripe, it made a sloppy, squishing noise when he squeezed.
Swallowing at the expression on his face, Nia reached for the next peach. Nostrils flaring, Mace advanced. He deflected the second one, skirted the table, and grabbed her wrists before she could reach for another.
Tugging, he pulled her close, until they almost touched. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, his voice deadly quiet.
“I’m pissed off.” Nia tried to yank her arms away, but he held firm. Her chest heaved with each angry breath. She tipped her head to meet his eyes.
Icy blue flecks flashed at her. “Pissed off?”
“You left me here with the lights flashing and didn’t come back!” Her voice rose in volume with each word, her rage igniting like a spark in a room full of combustible gas. She yanked on her arms but couldn’t break free. “Let me go so I can finish,” she demanded, jerking her chin at the table full of all the food she’d emptied from the refrigeration unit.
His grip on her wrists loosened, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled her hands around until her arms wrapped around his hips in a hug. Her breasts squished tight against his chest, her locket a hard mass between them.
Her nerves tingled at the contact. She swallowed at the look in his eyes while her heart beat an uncomfortable pace in her chest. His eyes had darkened to an electrifying shade of cobalt.
“There was a Guardian in the area.” His warm breath brushed her cheeks. “It’s gone now.”
“A Guardian?” She couldn’t keep the hopeful tone out of her voice.
Mace’s eyes narrowed, hands tightening on her wrists behind him. “Don’t get any ideas.”
All the cumulative frustration from a long night of uncertainty bubbled inside her. “What the hell would I do?” She struggled against him. “Stick my arm out an airlock and wave?” Her knee jerked toward his groan.
He spun her around so fast, his quarters were a blur until she found herself facing the bed, his arm a band around her middle. Her hands pinned to her sides, he pressed his lips to her ear. “That would not end well for you,izar.”
