Operation Hydra (Beyond Ontariese 2) Page 4

“Does this off-worlder possess the same genetic abnormality?”

  “Unfortunately no, but he is a healthy male in his prime. I believe he is a better candidate than any I could find locally.”

  “Has he agreed to participate in the program?”

  “His participation will be more or less unintentional. If all goes as I anticipate, I’ll have what I need from him—or rather the hellcat will—without his realizing my true motivation.”

  A long pause followed. “Quite frankly, I can’t see the hellcat allowing this to happen.”

  “You didn’t see the way she responded to him. She’s ready, I assure you. And the off-worlder believes she’s had contraceptive injections so he has no reason to use a physical barrier. This is the opportunity for which we’ve been waiting.”

  “I appreciate your enthusiasm but I’ll send the new batch of Libidium just in case. You’ve underestimated the hellcat before. I want to be prepared for anything.”

  Hydran glared at the speaker projecting the general’s voice. “I haven’t misjudged the situation. If and when it becomes necessary, I’ll use Libidium.”

  * * *

  “I’m not here to break you,” Trey said softly, but Krysta didn’t believe him.

  “What you’re here to do is irrelevant. I know what Hydran wants.”

  “I don’t care what Hydran wants. As long as it doesn’t interfere with what I want.” It was bait, a cleverly worded lure, and Krysta wasn’t biting.

  “We need to get out of here.” He motioned toward the front of the spacecraft.

  He nodded to one of the two tall-backed seats and Krysta sat. She focused on keeping the bottom edge of the jacket as far down on her thighs as physically possible. His hand brushed her breast and her gaze shot to his. Heat curled low in her belly, making her restless. She was proud not to have gasped.

  “Easy.” He chuckled. “Just the safety restraint straps. We can’t leave the ground without them.”

  He fastened the two straps together and pulled them down along the center of her chest. The coarse material of the straps snagged the jacket, dragging it down as he went. The upper portion of her breasts swelled into view, perfectly framed by the restraint straps.

  “Well now,” his tone was low and throaty, “that looks rather nice.” He dared a quick foray along the edge of the strap with just the tip of his finger. Krysta slapped his hand aside and reached for the jacket. Tugging it up and overlapping the edges, she was careful not to reveal too much of her legs.

  He nudged her thighs apart with his hand and she nearly jumped out of the seat. “What are you doing?”

  Laughing softly, he took her hand and guided it down along her body. His knuckles rested against her inner thigh, sending tingles into places she didn’t want to think about. Krysta was afraid to move yet the need to squirm was driving her crazy.

  He passed the buckle into her hand and eased her legs even farther apart. “The housing for the buckle is right there. Make sure you push it in firmly. Listen for the click.” He laughed again. “I never realized fastening safety restraints could be this much fun.”

  Her skin burned. Why did he persist in humiliating her? Humiliate? She’d been humiliated before. It hadn’t felt like this.

  After a series of departure scans, he shot her a sidelong smile and ignited the engines. The ship shuddered, falling into rhythmic vibrations Krysta found intriguing. He lifted off and immediately executed a sharp, banked turn. Krysta dug her nails into the padded armrests, choking back a startled cry. He enjoyed surprising her. He wanted her off balance. Well, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  They didn’t go far. He set the shuttle down in a small clearing and the hatch opened with a pop-hiss. A steep ramp extended to the ground, awaiting their departure. By the time she figured out how to free herself from the safety restraints, Trey stood at the foot of the ramp, his hand raised in a gallant gesture. The ramp had no railing. He was being helpful.

  Or was he? How much of her legs could he see from where he stood? Clutching the front of the jacket, Krysta placed her hand in his and ignored the slow, sweet pleasure of his strong fingers closing around hers. She concentrated on each step, silently counting, carefully watching where she placed her foot.

  “If walking is so taxing, I would be happy to—”

  His forearm connected with the backs of her thighs and she cried out, jumping off the other side of the ramp. He planted his fists on his lean hips and stared at her silently. Tension escalated.

  Krysta’s belly fluttered and she had to look away. With the sunlight gleaming in his multi-colored hair, accenting every angle of his masculine features, she couldn’t think. Could only want. Her heart pounded madly, her entire body taking on its rhythm. She jammed her hands into the pockets of his jacket, not trusting herself to do anything else. She couldn’t surrender to this man. He was acting on Hydran’s behalf. And she would never surrender to Hydran.

  “Who are you, Mr. Darrin?” She finally broke the silence. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m trying to picture you without my jacket.”

  Expecting him to grin or chuckle, his complete sincerity sent shivers ricocheting along her nerves. “Shall I take it off so you can concentrate on our conversation?” Rebellion was familiar territory. It made her feel safe.

  “If you take off the jacket, doll, we won’t have a conversation.”

  “What’s your association with Dr. Hydran?” Before he could answer, she shook her head and walked away. “Why should I believe one word you tell me?”

  “It’s simple. Hydran has something I need and I have something he wants. I’ve no reason to lie to you or anyone.”

  Krysta spun. Her hand hit his upper arm. She hadn’t realized he was so close, but his arm was wide and heavily muscled, hard and fascinating. The sun had warmed his skin or was it always this hot? Heart pounding, she dragged her hand away.

  “The specifics of my association with Dr. Hydran have yet to be determined.” He continued as if nothing had happened.

  She headed for the shade of a nearby tree. “Meaning?”

  He smiled, his gaze caressing her face. “If I decide you’re more trouble than you’re worth, I’ll head back to Ontariese and Hydran gets—”

  “Ontariese is the name of your homeworld?”

  Trey hesitated. “Yes.” He probably should have prepared a counterfeit location but it was a minor slip-up.

  She leaned against the trunk of a tall, slender tree, her hands safely stowed in the pockets of his jacket. “What does Hydran have that you can’t find on Ontariese?”

  “Healers. I’m an explorer. Ontariese is extremely over-populated. We’re in desperate need of colonization sites. In the past cycle—or year—I’ve lost four crewmembers to sudden illnesses. All our scans indicate that the locations are habitable. We begin our feasibility study and someone becomes violently ill. Before we can determine the exact microorganism or transport them to a facility capable of treating the illness, they’re gone.”

  Somewhere along the line, her long blonde hair had lost its binding. It hung over her shoulder, concealing the curve of one breast. He wanted to slip his hand inside the jacket and cup the other, just to watch her eyes widen, and feel her nipple gather against his palm. It would. He knew it would.

  Stay on task, Mr. Darrin, he cautioned his alter ego.

  “You want me to leave Earth? To go on these explorations with you?” She sounded wary.

  “With me and my crew.” Her eyes expanded to nearly comic proportions. “Your only duty would be to deal with illness or injury. I’m not trying to hire entertainment.”

  Her stance remained tense, her expression suspicious. “What does Hydran get out of it?”

  “That’s between Hydran and me.”

  Pushing away from the trunk, she snatched a cone-shaped object from another tree and began to peel away the wooden petals. What an odd flower.

  “You can’t imagine how much I hate that man,” she said
softly, focused on destruction.

  “So explain it to me.” He leaned his shoulder against the tree she’d just vacated. “Tell me about The Center.”

  She turned her assessing gaze on him. “What can I tell you that you don’t already know? Do you expect me to believe you’re going into business with a man you know nothing about?”

  “I know what is easily accessible and what Hydran has told me.” That much was true and it amounted to precious little. Powerful people were guarding the secrets of Operation Hydra. “I want to hear about it from you, from someone on the inside.”

  “It’s a horrible place. Dr. Hydran is a horrible man.”

  Gods of the day moon, how he wanted to touch her, to kiss the frown from her lips. “Can you be a little more specific?”

  “What would you like to hear?” She tossed what remained of the wooden flower off to one side. “Have you seen The Center from the air?”

  She looked so tiny, so defenseless with her disheveled hair and defiant eyes. What indignities had she suffered? He could only nod. His throat was so dry words were impossible.

  “There are four identical wards. At least they look identical from the outside. Each occupant is tested at age three. If they exhibit no active gift, they’re assigned to ward A. The testing is repeated every five years or whenever something happens to warrant further testing. The outcome of testing at any time can result in reassignment to a higher security ward.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.” Trey did, but Mr. Darrin wouldn’t have.

  “At any time a child can be taken from her mother and assigned to another ward. Belle and I were lucky. We were reassigned together.”

  He swallowed, forced to hide his reaction behind an expressionless mask. “How old were you?”

  She glanced off into the distance and pulled another wooden flower from the prickly looking tree. “Eight. Hydran realized we were communicating telepathically, not only with each other, which is expected with twins, but with the others.”

  “Your mother is housed in ward A? She has no gifts?” That didn’t make sense if Krysta was who he believed her to be.

  “I’m not sure where my mother was housed. I was only allowed to see her on rare occasions when Hydran… I don’t want to talk about my mother.”

  “Can you communicate with her now?” he asked carefully.

  “My mother is dead. Change the subject.”

  He took a deep breath, reinforcing his role. “Tell me more about The Center.”

  “Like I said, Belle and I were lucky. Saebin was taken from Joleen when she was five. To this day, they’ve not been allowed to see each other.”

  “Who is Saebin?”

  “My best friend except for Belle.”

  She wandered toward him. Trey clenched his fists, bracing his back against the tree. If she touched him, he wasn’t sure he could be noble. And she wanted to touch him. Regardless of her misgivings, desire shone in her eyes.

  “Why was she taken away from her mother?” His voice broke conspicuously.

  “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Try.”

  “She can reach into a mind and turn it off, not permanently or anything, just knock someone out with a thought.”

  “You said she was five. Your friend first knocked someone out when she was five?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “It wasn’t her fault. The guard frightened her. She merely reacted. And Hydran dragged her kicking and screaming away from Joleen. I think eleven of his people went down before the elders were able to calm her.”

  “Saebin can do this now at will?”

  She nodded. “That’s why they moved her to ward D. She was accepted into an elite program and I—I thought you were interested in healers.” She didn’t move back. Why didn’t she move back?

  He had to push his one advantage. She wanted him. Mr. Darrin wouldn’t care about the other wards, guard rotations, security protocols or the endless details Trey must eventually understand. For now, it was more important to fan the flames, draw her nearer. “I’m interested in you.”

  “Why?”

  He grabbed the lapels of his jacket, knowing she’d retreat when she heard his question. “What’s the Companion?”

  She gasped and tried to pry his hands lose. “Who told you about… Stupid question. Why would he want you to know… Another stupid question.”

  Trey grinned. If he stood here long enough, she’d have the whole conversation by herself. “What has the Companion taught you? What do you still want to know?”

  “Stop it!” Giving up her attempt to budge his grip on the jacket, she shoved against his chest instead.

  “I thought we played this game already. Want to go another round?”

  He dragged her against him, pulling her feet on top his boots to better align the apex of her thighs with his aching erection. His hands cupped her bare bottom firmly, holding her there, needing her there. She swung at him, but Trey couldn’t drag his hands away from her warm skin. He just didn’t care enough to stop the slap. When she reached back to swing again, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her arms behind her back.

  “Now do you answer my questions or do I get to touch you?”

  “Touch me,” she sneered. “I want you to.”

  He laughed. “That didn’t sound very sincere.” He tucked her hair behind her ears and traced the shape of her mouth, laughing again when she tried to bite him. “Well, I guess we won’t be kissing just yet.”

  Her highly arched brows drew together and her mouth snapped shut.

  “Disappointed?” She glared. “What did the Companion teach you?” His hand descended toward the overlapping lapels.

  “That’s a complicated question.”

  “Can the Companion touch you?”

  “The Companion can simulate sensation.”

  Trey released her arms. She’d used an odd tone when she said the word can. “Have you ever used the Companion to simulate sensation?” Her hands moved to his chest. She stopped struggling. Intrigued, Trey rested his hands on her hips, on the outside of the jacket.

  She shook her head.

  “Then what do you do with the Companion?”

  “Talk.”

  She started to step down from his boots. His hands tightened against her hips. “If I kiss you now, will you bite me?”

  “Maybe.”

  He could live with that. Gently, oh-so gently, he pulled her back into his arms. He brushed her hair away from her face and covered her mouth with his. For a long time he just touched her lips, enjoying the heat and her surrender.

  She moved first. Tilting her head, she parted her lips. Trey accepted the subtle invitation. He licked her bottom lip then slowly sank into her warm, wet mouth. A soft cry escaped along with her breath, and desire twisted inside him.

  “Oh, Krysta,” he whispered, his damp lips moving against hers. He took the kiss deeper, exploring the hidden recesses of her mouth. She pushed her fingers into his hair and tentatively brushed her tongue over his.

  Slipping his hand beneath the jacket, he stroked her bare behind. She was so soft, so warm, he wanted to explore every tempting curve. He slid his hand along her side and cupped her breast. With a breathless moan, she arched into the caress. Her nipple hardened against his palm just as he knew it would. His thumb brushed the tight peak, encouraging her response.

  He’d been right. She was ripe for seduction, nearly desperate for his touch. Distracting her with deep, tender kisses, he skimmed her belly with his hand. She quivered and shifted restlessly, her lips clinging to his. He eased his fingers lower, approaching the apex of her thighs.

  She tore her mouth from his, gasping. “I can’t do this.”

  The torment in her gaze shook Trey. He couldn’t manipulate her with desire. If she surrendered while her sister was in danger, she’d never forgive herself—he would never forgive himself. He moved his hand back to her hip, beneath the jacket this time. “I never go where I’m not wanted. I hope you’ll believe that in ti
me.”

  She averted her face but stayed within his arms.

  “You have such beautiful eyes.” He kissed her temple, caressing her with his lips. “Does Belle have eyes like yours?”

  Her gaze moved back to his, narrowed, confused. “Are you making fun of me?”

  What had he said? What caused this reaction? “I’ve never seen eyes like yours. The color is unusual, but the way they swirl is so beautiful.”

  “All of the occupants of The Center have eyes like mine.”

  Chapter Three

  Krysta stepped back, clutching the jacket together over her breasts. What was his problem? One minute Trey had been complimenting her eyes, the next he’d stared at her as if she’d grown another head.

  “Hello.” She waved her hand in front of his stunned face. “What’s the matter with you?”

  “Nothing.” He pushed away from the tree.

  She wasn’t buying it. Why was he so surly? “Hydran said the genetic abnormality that causes our unusual abilities is also responsible for—”

  “We have to go,” he cut in.

  “Go where?” Fear sliced through her. Had she failed some sort of test? Was he angry because she’d stopped him? What would they do to Belle? “Please.” She grabbed for his arm. He sidestepped, avoiding her touch. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  He sounded curt and something more, something darker.

  “Please,” she tried again. “I didn’t mean to—”

  He hurried her toward the shuttle, refusing to touch her, hardly looking at her. If they returned now, Hydran would think she’d made him angry. She had made him angry. She just didn’t understand how.

  Turning at the top of the loading ramp, she blocked the hatchway with her arms. “What have I done?” She tried to keep her tone civil, non-provocative.

  “You’ve done nothing wrong.” His deep voice sounded gruff and impatient. “The situation is far different than I was led to believe. I must contact… Just take your seat while I figure out what needs to be done.”

  Authority emanated from his stance, his tone, his very presence. This was no mere explorer. Trey Darrin was accustomed to power, used to giving orders and having them obeyed. Who was he? Who was he really? She had no idea if her discovery was good or bad, but Trey was not what he seemed.