The cockpit door hissed open behind her.
She didn’t turn around. She couldn’t. Her shoulders locked up, and she kept her eyes fixed on the display like the trajectory data was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.
“Shower’s functional,” Raaze said. His voice was easy and relaxed. The voice of a man who hadn’t just put on a show for an audience of one. “Bit cold, though. Thought you’d want to know.”
“Noted.”
She felt him in the doorway, but still didn’t turn.
“You look tense, kelarris.”
Don’t you dare.
“Long shift,” she said flatly.
The silence stretched. She could feel him smiling. She didn’t have to see it to know it was there… that slow, knowing curve that played havoc with every feminine instinct she had. It was the smile of a man who knew exactly what effect he had and enjoyed every second of it.
“Let me know if you need anything,” he said. “I’m told I’m good with my hands.”
The door hissed shut behind him.
She dropped her forehead to the console and let out a breath that shook on the way out.
Fuck. She was in so much trouble.
Two days.
Two draanthing days of her dodging him like he was a live grenade rolling around the deck plates. Raaze leaned against the cargo bay wall and counted the seconds. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen?—
The corridor hatch hissed open. The sound of footsteps, quick and light, reached his ears. Then they paused just outside the door.
Twenty-two.
He grinned. She was right on schedule.
He’d mapped her movements by the second day. Cait hit the galley at 0600, 1400, and 2100 ship time, give or take three minutes. Regular as clockwork. She used the port corridor in the mornings, starboard in the afternoons, and alternated at night depending on whether she thought he was asleep.
She thought she was being subtle.
She wasn’t. She really wasn’t.
He was—had been a warball player. Reading movement patterns was literally his job. He could track twelve opponents across a field while calculating intercept trajectories and calling defensive switches. One small human female trying to avoid eye contact? Yeah, that was child’s play.
The footsteps started again. Faster now. She must have spotted his shadow through the door’s viewport and was trying to make it past before he?—
He stepped into the corridor, blocking her path. She gasped and tried to backpedal, but nearly ran into his chest anyway. Her hands came up, and she caught herself against him. The contact shot straight through him like a jolt of electricity. Then, she jerked back like she’d been burnt, bouncing off the opposite wall.
“Raaze.” His name came out strangled. “I was just?—”
“Avoiding me?”
“Checking the—Environmental seals.” She gestured vaguely behind her.
He bit back his amusement. “Environmental seals are aft. You were heading forward.”
A blush crept up her neck, and she tried to step around him. Oh no, they weren’t having any of that. Stepping to the side, he blocked her path. Not aggressively, there was no need for that. The ship was so small that all he needed to do was stand there, and he filled the corridor. She couldn’t get past without touching him.
He grinned.
