Polished metal glinted in the sunlight. A handful of ships similar to Messenger occupied an immense landing pad and held little interest for Tru. The same couldn’t be said for the sleek, small craft that attracted and held her attention. Narrow and clearly designed for only one occupant, they gleamed with predatory intent. They looked like weapons waiting to be fired. Why would he have such machines?
She turned to Nick to ask. The answer materialized right before her, reflected in the harsh beauty of his face. Here, barely contained, existed the same power and the same deadly potential. He was as much a weapon as the craft resting on the landing pad. A shiver rippled down her back.
His absolute concentration gave her the opportunity to admire the masculine grace and economical movements of his body as he prepared the ship for landing. Grateful the landing gear engaging camouflaged her soft sigh, Tru quickly turned her head and nibbled her bottom lip. She felt a powerful mix of uneasiness and attraction in his presence.
He set Messenger down with hardly a bump, engines hissing as they shut down and began to cool. With a flick of his wrist, he unbuckled the shoulder harness and rose while she fumbled with her own buckles. She stayed seated, because the tight confines of the bridge would bring their bodies uncomfortably close. She already struggled with her awareness of him and the idea of being near enough to feel the heat radiate from his big body sent a different kind of shiver down her spine.
He retreated a little and motioned for her to precede him to the back of the ship and the outside door. “We’re just a short distance from my home. I maintain my business interests there.”
She gave him as wide a berth as possible while rising from her chair and leading the way. His gaze drilled into the back of her neck, and her heartbeat kicked up a notch. She tried to keep her unease at his closeness hidden. Instead, she concentrated on keeping her pace languid and graceful while hampered by heavy clothing and clumsy boots. Who knew all the training in deportment she’d endured would prove useful? Remembering the lessons, she straightened her spine and raised her chin a bit more, finding courage enough to let a tiny smile tease the corners of her mouth.
When they reached the main hatch, Nick slapped a hand against the control panel and door seals hissed as they released. The panel opened and a ramp extended to the ground. Hot, humid air washed over her, redolent with the scent of growing things and the mingling overlay of machinery and fuel fumes. Squinting against the bright sunlight and even brighter flashes glinting off the metal surfaces, she fought a sneeze.
His hand at the base of her spine urged her forward. She swallowed a gasp as its heat danced seductive sparks up her back. Distracted she forced herself to watch her feet as she moved. Metal grillwork of the landing pad echoed as he hurried her toward the end of the tarmac. Stone stairs curved to a pathway bordered by flowering shrubs and unobtrusive lights. The juxtaposition between the harsh environment of the landing pad and the garden path before her was unexpected. Intrigued she glanced at Nick, but didn’t have the nerve to ask questions.
By the time they reached the bottom, moisture prickled along her hairline and dotted her upper lip. Tru fumbled with the tabs on her heavy jacket and wished she dared stop long enough to remove it. Its weight suffocated her in the heat, but the impatience stamped on Nick’s face convinced her otherwise. Instead, she contented herself with letting it flap open and catch any stray breeze coming her way. She refused to ask him to slow down, even though she trotted to keep up with his long strides. She had her pride, battered though it was.
They rounded a corner and before her, shimmering in the sunlight, was his home. She stopped dead in her tracks, trying to take it all in. He took a couple of steps and stopped. He half turned, an eyebrow raised in question. She shut her gaping mouth with a snap, ignoring the flare of satisfaction on his face. “Oh my.”
The house spread before her wasn’t large, at least not by her family’s standards. And yet, it appeared nothing less than magnificent, designed to blend with its surroundings rather than draw attention. It was multileveled and built of a mellowed buff-colored stone with darker streaks running through it. Windows sparkled in the sunlight and flanked wide, deep stairs leading to the heavily carved front doors. Tall trees shaded the house and water splashed in a fountain encircled by flowers. A thick wall surrounded the house, looking impressive, rather than threatening, but she didn’t doubt for a minute uninvited guests wouldn’t make it very far.
Considered a masterpiece on her world, her family home seemed ostentatious and overblown compared to Nick’s.
“Your home is stunning,” Tru said. “It is not at all what I expected.” She couldn’t easily read his expression, but suspected her comment had annoyed him somehow.
He gave her a mocking bow and swept his arm out. “After you.”
Unsure how to respond, she nodded and preceded him up the path.
The great hallway was cool and a welcome relief from the humidity outside. She blinked while her eyes adjusted from the exterior brightness to the relative dimness inside the house. Approaching footsteps echoed off the marble floor and a man made his appearance. A broad smile full of humor and mischief lit his handsome face, but interest flashed in his shrewd gaze before he turned to Nick.
She was caught off guard when the man stopped in front of Nick and saluted before punching him lightly on the shoulder. Nick grinned and punched him back. They launched into conversation in a language she’d never heard before. Smooth, musical words mesmerized as she listened to the ebb and flow of their deep voices. The language sounded complex, beautiful and utterly alien. Unable to follow the conversation, Tru settled for watching the men.
Nick might command a room with the sheer force of his presence, but certainly the other man would never go unnoticed either. Although he focused on the conversation, she sensed his awareness of her. The angle of his head and set of his shoulders made him seem watchful.
Another resident joined them, but didn’t participate in the conversation. He listened intently, not paying much attention to her beyond the initial curious glance. Tru began to feel overwhelmed by so much testosterone in the room and it didn’t help when the men darted speculative glances her way throughout their conversation with Nick.
He spoke a single, sharp word and all conversation ceased. The men turned their attention to her with military precision. She edged closer and stood slightly behind Nick.
He caught her arm and drew her beside him. “Tru, this is Seth Mandekor and Callen Bluestone, my partners.” He’d indicated each of the men in front of her with a brisk nod. “And this is Tru Creighton.” The subtle emphasis on her name confirmed she’d been the topic of conversation. Not a new circumstance, but one she’d never found comfortable.
Seth turned warm hazel eyes her way and winked. “Welcome, Tru Creighton.”
His mischievous smile invited a response, and Tru relaxed enough to smile back. Seth Mandekor was as handsome as sin and she suspected not averse to using his looks to his advantage. Like Nick, he stood tall and broad-shouldered, with his sun-streaked brown hair, cut shorter than the current fashion. He exuded geniality, and the lines bracketing his mouth attested he smiled easily. He appeared a complete opposite to Nick’s darker personality but the same shadows lurked in his eyes as in Nick’s. She had no idea what had left such a mark on either man, and wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
Callen nodded, but didn’t say anything. He offered a brief smile, which for all its brevity still held enough charm to give her pause. His watchful winter gray eyes seemed reserved, too old for such a young face. He drifted away silent as a wraith, carrying himself like the others, shoulders square and movements bearing a lethal hunter’s grace. He hadn’t made her uncomfortable exactly, just very conscious of his presence.
“The boss man here says you’re in a bit of trouble.” Seth took her arm and led her deeper into the house. “I can’t help but notice those nasty bruises you’re sporting, darlin’. Just point me in the