Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

W arning bells sounded in Wraith's mind but he ignored them, too lost in the kiss. Lost in the sweetness of Willow's passionate response, in the press of her slender curves against his hardness. It wasn't until she squirmed eagerly against him, her soft little ass moving tantalizingly against his cock - his fully erect cock - that he came to his senses.

Appalled, he broke the kiss, his breath unforgivably ragged as he raised his head. Her eyes fluttered open, a soft smile on lips still damp and swollen from his kiss. Fuck, she was beautiful. And tempting. And utterly dangerous.

He had long ago trained his body - had been forced to train his body - not to respond to sexual stimuli unless he wished, to use sex only for information, power, or payment. It had made him stronger, more focused, and once he had earned his reputation he had gladly dismissed it. Until Willow. She had undone all his defenses in a matter of days.

She looked at him, confusion slowly creeping into her gaze as he held himself rigidly in place.

"Is something wrong?"

Instead of responding he lifted her off his lap and set her on her feet.

"Go back to bed," he ordered, his voice hard.

She gave him an unreadable look, those big hazel eyes focused on his face, but she nodded and left without another word, her bare feet padding quietly down the corridor.

He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to go after her. Emotions he'd long since buried threatening to resurface.

No, not emotions. It's simply desire , he told himself but the words rang hollow. There was nothing simple about his reaction to this female.

Before he could stop himself he licked his lips, tasting the lingering sweetness of her mouth, then snarled as his cock pulsed with need. This was completely unacceptable. He tried to focus on the vast expanse of space outside the ship, but for once the familiar void couldn't calm the storm raging within him.

He closed his eyes, but the memory of her lips on his remained, a ghost of sensation that refused to fade, and he growled low in his throat, frustrated by his own weakness. Her scent lingered in the air as well, taunting him. He growled again and abandoned the cockpit, stalking down the hallway to his training room, determined to regain control of his body through exhaustion if nothing else.

The next morning he strode back down the corridor, his jaw clenched. He needed to find Willow and put an end to whatever had started between them. This desire, this… softness wasn't him. It was a distraction he couldn't afford.

He rounded the corner into the lounge and froze. The usually stark space had been transformed. What looked like all of his supplies had been pulled out of the storage cabinets and strewn about, creating a chaotic mess that set his teeth on edge. Willow and Sooni were in the middle of it, working together, their laughter filling the air.

He should demand they stop. Instead he watched her from the doorway, unnoticed, unable to look away. Her hair fell in soft waves around her pretty face as she sorted through a box of provisions. Her smile, warm and genuine, sparked something in his chest he refused to name even though it was directed at Sooni rather than him.

"Look, Willow!" Sooni held up a length of brightly colored cloth. "Isn't this pretty?"

"Very pretty. Do you think Wraith secretly longs for a shirt with yellow flowers?"

His mouth tightened when the child giggled. The box of fabric had been a gift from a grateful client. The material was quite valuable and he'd decided to keep it in case it came in useful during a future negotiation. Not that he needed to explain his possessions.

He should order them to stop whatever they were doing, to restore his lounge to its usual pristine order, but something stopped him. Despite the chaos the lounge felt different. Warmer. Almost… welcoming.

He shook his head, banishing the thought. This was precisely why he needed to establish boundaries. But how could he tell them to stop without upsetting both females? He clenched his fists, torn between his instinct to maintain control and an unfamiliar reluctance to cause pain.

He knew he needed to be firm, to make it clear that he was in control and last night's moment of weakness wouldn't be repeated, but the thought of extinguishing the light in Willow's eyes made him pause.

The words he'd planned to say died on his lips as he watched the two females laughing together. Instead, an unexpected idea took root and he spoke before he had a chance to second guess himself.

"Willow."

Both she and Sooni turned, startled by his sudden appearance, and her eyes widened, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

"Good morning, Wraith. I didn't see you there."

He ignored the way his pulse quickened at her reaction.

"You need to learn how to defend yourself," he stated bluntly.

She blinked, clearly caught off guard. "I… what?"

"You need to learn self-defense," he clarified.

"But why? You said Farlain would be safe."

"It will be." He intended to make sure of that. "But unexpected things happen. I will teach you."

"Me too!" Sooni piped up, her yellow eyes bright with excitement.

He nodded curtly, surprised by his own offer but unwilling to back down.

"Fine. Both of you, follow me."

He led them to the ship's training room, a space he usually kept to himself. The plain white walls and padded floor were a stark contrast to the cluttered warmth of the lounge.

"We'll start with basic stances," he began, demonstrating a defensive posture.

She bit her lip as she watched him.

"Are you really sure this is necessary?"

"Yes. Now assume this position."

She sighed, then attempted to mirror his movements, frowning in concentration. He did his best to focus on the lesson, but he found himself distracted by the graceful lines of her body, the way her hair fell across her face as she moved.

Sooni, meanwhile, darted around them, quick and agile. She picked up the movements faster than he expected, but her attention span was short-lived. After a few repetitions, she decided it was boring.

"I'm going to go help Grandfather!"

She scampered out of the room before he could object, and Willow laughed.

"I think she was expecting something more exciting."

"It's not meant to be ‘exciting', it's meant to save your life," he corrected sharply.

She gazed up at him, her expression unreadable, but something in her eyes made his chest tighten.

"All right," she said. "Teach me how to save my life."

"Assume the first position."

She tried, her movements clumsy and unsure, and he felt an unfamiliar twinge in his chest - not impatience at her failure, but something closer to… concern? He immediately pushed the thought aside.

"Watch my movements," he ordered.

He demonstrated a simple defensive sequence, moving as slowly as he could, and she watched him intently.

"Now you."

She tried again, then wobbled, off-balance, and he instinctively moved to steady her.

"Sorry," she said, a sheepish smile on her face. "I'm not very coordinated."

"It takes practice."

"How long have you been practicing?"

"Since I woke up in that cell."

She gave him a horrified look.

"But you were just a child."

A defenseless child, which was why he'd thrown himself into learning everything he could about fighting, training himself to become stronger, faster. It hadn't helped, not at first, but eventually he'd been able to break free from the chains of his slavery.

"Which is why I've had a lot of practice," he said evenly, keeping his voice neutral.

He moved into a series of quick fluid kicks, not his fastest but fast enough to get the point across. He spun around to see Willow staring at him, her eyes wide. Had he frightened her? Then he noticed the flush on her face and the stiff little peaks of her nipples pressing against her shirt. Definitely not afraid.

He felt his own body tighten in response and mentally cursed. He needed to focus. This was supposed to be a teaching session, not a repeat of the previous night. But his gaze seemed to be drawn to those small tempting mounds. Fuck .

"Again," he ordered, his voice harsh.

She gave him a startled look but obeyed - or rather, she tried to obey. As soon as she attempted the move, her foot caught on the edge of a mat and she stumbled, falling backwards with a startled yelp.

He was at her side immediately, and she gave him a shocked look. Then to his astonishment, she burst into laughter.

"Well, that was graceful - but I did warn you I wasn't very coordinated," she chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Can we try again?"

Her determination caught him off guard, and an unwilling smile twisted his lips.

"It is the only way to get better."

He automatically extended his hand to help her up, but the moment their fingers touched, memories of the previous night flooded him - the taste of her lips, the feel of her body against his. Desire surged through him, hot and urgent. Instead of pulling her up he wanted to join her on the mat, to strip away her clothes and explore every inch of that small tempting body.

Gritting his teeth he forced his body under control and helped her up, doing his best to ignore the way her small hand fit so perfectly in his, soft and warm against his calloused palm. She smiled up at him. He could see the echo of desire in her face as well, but there was something else - a trust that stirred something deep within him, a fierce protectiveness he'd never experienced before.

Or had he? A forgotten memory threatened to surface, accompanied by a spike of pain through his head.

"Is something wrong?" she asked quietly, moving closer to him, her face warm and concerned.

He desperately wanted to accept the comfort she offered but he couldn't give in to his weakness - to her.

He forced himself to drop her hand and step back. The sudden loss of contact left him feeling oddly bereft, which only added to his frustration. He'd never felt so off-balance, so utterly at war with himself.

"No," he snapped.

Her eyes searched his face, and he was acutely conscious of how close they were still standing, but she didn't move away. Instead her hand brushed his again, and he went rigid. The scent of her arousal wrapped around him, enticing and intoxicating. It would be so easy to give in, to lose himself in the sensual promise of her body and the tenderness of her touch.

He never hesitated. Never lost control. Until now.

He needed to step away, to bring this ridiculous session to an end. He needed to maintain his control, to push aside the yearning to hold her in his arms, to touch and taste and -

"Am I interrupting?" Malacar asked as he walked into the room.

Wraith released her hand immediately, putting several paces between them as the old male took in the scene. The only sign of the elder's amusement was the slightly quirked brow and the amused glint in his eye.

"No," he snapped. "What do you want?"

"Just to tell you that the flux capacitor is back online." A smile creased Malacar's wrinkled face as he waved an airy hand. "You can go back to whatever you were doing."

"We were training."

But it was too late. The old male had already left and they were alone again. What had he been thinking, offering to train her? He'd let his guard down, allowed emotions to cloud his judgment. Emotions he couldn't even name. He was a hunter, a predator. Not some soft-hearted fool swayed by a gentle smile and warm eyes.

The weight of his past pressed down on him, urging him to retreat into the familiar comfort of isolation. He would harden his resolve, rebuild the walls she'd somehow managed to breach. It was the only way.

"This was a bad idea."

"Was it?" she asked quietly.

"Yes. I am no teacher. And you require too much training."

He knew the words were unfair, but he couldn't help himself. They hung between them for a heartbeat. Two. Her expression crumbled, her shoulders slumping, and he felt like the worst sort of bastard.

"I see."

He wanted to apologize, to take the words back, but old habits died hard. So instead he nodded brusquely and strode out of the training room, trying to ignore the way his chest ached at the look on her face.

Going straight to the cockpit he buried himself in work, scanning the data he'd gathered and carefully plotting the course he would take after he had delivered Willow to Farlain. Malacar had admitted that Ceres Prime had been nothing but a ruse so he'd returned to analyzing the data drive.

He ignored the hollow feeling in his chest at the thought of leaving her behind, refused to think about the way her lips had felt against his, the way her small body had molded to his.

It was several hours before he finally had the course plotted. He knew he should get up, should check on the ship, but he remained in his seat, staring out into the vast emptiness of space. He'd never felt so alone.

The sensation wasn't new, but the bitter ache that came with it was.

"Wraith?"

He started at the sound of his name, annoyed that he'd been too distracted to notice her approach. The cockpit was in darkness, her small figure silhouetted against the corridor lights.

"Yes?"

He sat up a little straighter as she approached, but he didn't rise. He didn't trust his body.

She hesitated for a moment, then spoke.

"I think I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have kissed you last night. It was… inappropriate. And I've obviously made you uncomfortable."

She thought she'd made him uncomfortable? She wasn't wrong, but it was hardly her fault.

"I believe I was the one who kissed you," he said stiffly.

"Only because I was leaning in to kiss you," she argued, then gave a soft laugh. "I suppose it doesn't really matter. I just hope we can put it behind us."

Perversely annoyed that she was trying to do the same thing he'd been trying to do all day, he raised a mocking brow.

"Is that really what you want, little human? To put it behind us? No more kissing? No more touching?"

He knew he was being an idiot but he couldn't stop himself, his voice a soft, provocative purr.

To his surprise, she stiffened at his words.

"What I want is none of your business. But since you keep pushing me away, it seems like a good idea."

"Is that why you came here? To tell me that?"

He should feel relieved, not disappointed. He knew it was for the best, but he hated the idea that he had hurt her feelings.

"Well, yes. And to see if you wanted to join us for the evening meal. Just to be friendly," she added quickly.

To share in the warmth he'd witnessed from outside the room? The thought was surprisingly tempting, but if he had any hope of keeping his barriers in place, it was impossible.

"No. Thank you."

She seemed resigned, rather than disappointed, accepting his refusal without argument.

"If you change your mind, you're always welcome."

She left without another word and he watched her walk away, her slender body moving gracefully down the hallway. The urge to go after her threatened to overwhelm him, but instead he turned back to the vast emptiness of space.