Tempted by Celestial Bodies

Chapter 3

chapter three

gen

Great gods above and below, did I feel like shit.

I opened my eyes and blinked a few times to bring my surroundings into focus. The room was dark except for a few faint lights, but I recognized my own quarters. I lay on my side on my bunk as I always did, facing the door.

The first odd thing I noticed—other than how much my whole body hurt—were the scents around me. My bedding smelled freshly cleaned, as did my cabin, and the distinctive odor of medical equipment hung in the air. Strangely, I also smelled something that reminded me of a jungle, but that didn’t make any sense.

I let out a groan and started to roll onto my back, only to find myself held in place by a strong hand on my hip.

“Stay still,” a man said from behind me, his voice gentle.

Fury and fear, in equal amounts, sent an icy chill down my spine. Thanks to my muddled mind and aching body, I hadn’t realized I was not alone.

“No sudden movements,” the man behind me added. “You got knocked out and all your wounds are still healing. Don’t rip anything open again.”

I had no memory of being knocked out and no reason to take this man at his word, but my entire body did hurt, especially my head and my chest.

“Who are you?” I demanded. I sounded hoarse, as though I had been unconscious for a long time. “What the hells are you doing on my ship? And in my bunk? ”

“My name is Kerian Nos,” he murmured. Despite my anger, he kept his voice quiet and calm and deliberately nonthreatening.

It didn’t escape my notice that he’d put himself between me and the wall, leaving me free to get away if I wanted while allowing himself to be in the more vulnerable position. He’d done everything he could to anticipate my anger and confusion and assuage my fear.

“You found me in your cargo hold, trapped in a malfunctioning stasis pod,” he added, now with definite concern in his voice. “Then the ship was severely damaged. Do you not remember?”

The more I tried to recall details of who he was and what had happened, the fuzzier my memory became. I supposed that supported his claim of a head injury. I also had a dim recollection of trying to shoot him. Obviously I hadn’t succeeded in killing him if we were in my cabin, and in my bunk.

And speaking of which…

Under my blanket, I wore sleepwear, and my skin smelled of cleanser. “Where is my uniform?” I demanded.

“I removed your clothes, but I took no liberties. I am a trained army medic.” His gentle voice became clinical. “Once you were healed, I cleaned away the blood and changed your clothing.”

Indeed, several new scars crisscrossed my torso. More evidence of how close I’d come to death, and of how much he’d had to do to save my life. My sluggish brain had a difficult time processing this information.

“How did I get injured?” I asked.

He explained about the damage to the ship and that we were still on course for Ymar II, piloted by Mechabot.

“I knew that robot would get into the cockpit someday,” I muttered, then raised my voice. “Computer, what caused the damage to the ship?”

“Scans indicate a collision with a derelict vessel,” the computer replied.

“Ship’s status?”

“Hull breaches on the starboard side, aft section, and widespread system damage. Shipwide life support and interspace communications remain offline. You are advised to remain sequestered in your cabin until the ship reaches its destination.”

My ship . My gut contracted.

For all her moodiness and leaky conduits and sparking wires, Nebula was mine—the only thing I’d ever had that truly belonged to me.

Floating debris posed a constant danger for deep space travelers, but usually they weren’t large enough to cause anything more than minor damage. If we’d struck a derelict vessel at hyperspeed, we were lucky to be alive, and even luckier to be able to continue to Ymar II.

“Why save my life?” I asked. I wanted my voice to be steady, but it wasn’t. I felt like my own pain reflected Nebula ’s suffering too.

The bunk dipped behind me for a moment, as if he’d started to move toward me then thought better of it.

“I’d have to explain once we arrived why you were dead and I wasn’t on any manifest,” he said. “We had a disagreement about why I was aboard your ship, but you did open my stasis pod before I asphyxiated. And it’s almost a standard week to Ymar II. A long time to be sealed in a cabin alone.”

Well, that made sense.

I still felt like I’d been trampled by a horde of Hardanian war-pigs, but I wanted to look at this man’s face because try as I might, I could not remember what he looked like.

“I’m turning over,” I said. “Give me some room.”

The entire bunk moved when he scooted away from me. I sensed he was much larger than me, and when I carefully rolled to my back, I found I was right.

Kerian Nos, my stowaway and apparent savior, sat with his back against the bulkhead, with one knee raised and the other leg folded. Even sitting, I could tell he dwarfed me by more than half a meter.

I immediately recognized him as a Fortusian, a race of humanoids who enhanced themselves through genetic engineering and manipulation, utilizing biological material from species across the known galaxy.

Like most Fortusians, Kerian’s astonishingly beautiful body appeared almost entirely human, but his dark blue skin had green patterns that reminded me of leaves. Thick, dark hair with streaks of blue and green hung just below his ears. Lavender antennae, about twenty-five centimeters in length, sprouted from each side of the crown of his head. They twitched and swiveled, one toward me and the other in various directions, maybe scenting the air and listening for sounds aboard the ship.

He had folded his exquisite, brightly colored, moth-like wings behind his back. Their colors and patterns captivated me.

I must have taken quite a hit to the head to knock my memory of this man from my brain. The only impressions of him I’d had until this moment were suspicion and the desire to kill him for stowing away aboard my ship.

But then he’d gotten me to safety, saved my life, and watched over me until I woke. He hadn’t had to do any of those things. It would have been easy enough to claim he couldn’t save me. The damage to the ship, his stasis pod, and Mechabot’s records would back up his story about the disaster. I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d had some other reason to keep me alive. What it might be, I had no idea, given I’d really done my best to kill him.

He’d apparently improvised clothing for himself using a coverall he must have found in the medical bay. I felt a little disappointed by the fact he was clothed and then wondered what in the hells was wrong with me.

The jumpsuit was designed to adapt to a wide range of body types, but his size strained its fabric. He’d had to tear off the sleeves to accommodate his long, muscular arms, and cut open the back for his wings. I couldn’t help but notice those details—along with the way the jumpsuit hugged the area of his groin in a way that implied what was under the fabric was proportionate to the rest of him.

Well, of course I’m curious about his body , I reasoned. Nothing wrong with that . I’d only met a few Fortusians and each was entirely unique. Genetic engineering created infinite possibilities. I didn’t know the source of the genes that created his wings and antennae and whatever other enhancements he had, but he was a magnificent male.

“I’m sorry for staring,” I said, though I wasn’t. And why I felt compelled to be polite to a strange stowaway was as much of a mystery as his presence on my ship.

“You are not sorry.” His mouth turned up at the corners in a wry smile. “And no apology is necessary. I’m used to stares—though few are as admiring as yours. I usually evoke disgust.”

“I wasn’t admiring,” I retorted, while wondering who in any galaxy would look at him with disgust. “I’ve just never seen someone with your particular modifications. It’s scientific curiosity, nothing more.”

He regarded me. “I suppose it’s not in my best interest to tell you this, but I can smell lies and deception.” He pointed to his antennae. “My senses are all very acute.”

Well, shit . If he could smell a lie, he could probably also smell that the sight of his body had elicited a definite reaction in some very personal places.

I had been in space for a long time. I certainly had ways of providing my own pleasure, but no species, no matter how technologically advanced, had come up with a substitute as good as the real thing.

Now both of his antennae swiveled in my direction.

Damn it, damn it, damn it to all the hells , I thought.

I tried to think about cold water, Raxian basketmaking, and even the leaky plasma conduit that had probably ruptured during the accident and taken out the ship’s life support system, but for every non-sexual thought I managed to have, two more thoughts and images of him invaded my brain. I knew I shouldn’t have waited so long for my ship’s drydock repairs. Now both Nebula and I were desperately in need of attention.

More to the point, the fact he didn’t leave me to die in the cargo hold stirred something in my heart—something I’d never expected to feel. A kind of camaraderie, or kinship, at least, brought on by barely surviving one of the many calamities that lurked in space.

Add to that the way he smiled at me, as if he knew exactly what I had on my mind, and I could no longer think of anything but how warm and strong he looked and how much I wanted to see everything under that jumpsuit.

Stop it , I lectured myself. You’re just lonely and horny from being in space too long. You don’t owe this man a damn thing.

Except I did owe him something. Not sex, because that wasn’t a commodity I traded, but I did owe him a debt. He’d saved my life. Maybe because he needed me alive when the ship arrived at the colony, and maybe because he didn’t want to spend the next few days alone. Whatever his motivation, I owed him a ride to Ymar II. After that, he was on his own.

Only then did I realize how tired he appeared. I’d been so caught up in admiring him and thinking dirty thoughts that I hadn’t spotted the slump of his shoulders or the dullness in his eyes. He’d barely woken from stasis when disaster struck, and he’d spent the hours since ensuring I didn’t die.

As my adrenaline wore off, exhaustion swept over me too. Healing and blood loss had sapped my strength. I might not be bleeding everywhere anymore, but I’d still taken a beating.

Neither of us were in any shape to do anything about whatever this was stirring between us. Not right now, anyway. Later, once we’d slept off our exhaustion, I’d let myself think more about how it would feel to have Kerian on top of me—or under me. I was willing to bet it would feel pretty damn good.

“We should sleep.” I rolled to my side to face him and tucked my bent arm under my pillow. “You look like you’re about to pass out sitting up.”

“I was made to not need rest very often.”

“Maybe so, but you need to sleep now.” I pointed to the pillow beside mine, the one nearer the bulkhead. “Lie down and face the window, please.”

“I will sleep.” He tilted his head. “But I must sleep facing the door.”

I frowned. “The ship is uninhabitable. Nothing’s coming through that door. Mechabot will contact me on the comms if it needs to tell me something.”

He shrugged. I figured his instincts demanded he never put his back to a door, especially in an unfamiliar place. I always slept facing the door myself, so it was odd that I’d settled in facing him instead.

It doesn’t mean anything , I told myself. I just don’t want to turn my back on him. I can’t trust him .

Except I did.

“Okay,” I said. “Face the door, if that will help you sleep.”

He must have been exhausted because he lay down immediately, his beautiful wings folded neatly behind his back and tucked close to his body. He mirrored my position, with one bent arm under his pillow.

We studied one another with weary eyes, neither willing to be the first to fall asleep. His rain forest scent seemed to fill the air. I longed to touch his wings and wondered if they felt as soft and silky as they looked.

To my surprise, my fatigue caught up to me before his did. I wasn’t aware my eyelids had drifted closed until I heard Kerian murmur something from the soft darkness beyond them. It sounded like he said I like how you smell .

I like how you smell too , I thought.

A heartbeat later, I was sound asleep.