Page 36 of Star-Crossed Captive
“Yeah, need to sit...” She’d barely finished the sentence when she collapsed to the deck.
“Fuck,” Mace breathed. He tried to catch her before she hit, but didn’t reach her in time. At least she didn’t smash her head against the corner of table and make things worse. Mace swept her up, cradling her against his chest before striding to the bed to lay her down. He felt for the pulse at her throat. A strong rhythm. She’d only passed out.
Mace moved her knees to sit beside her and ran a hand though his hair. He’d done this to her, worked her to exhaustion. He felt like an ass. First the attack, then this. She needed sleep. A huge chunk of it.
He sent a quick message to Grey, telling him he wouldn’t be in until the next day. Lifting her back into his arms, he scooted to the back bulkhead, then let the length of her body rest between his legs.
Mace didn’t examine the feelings rioting inside him at the familiar contact, how good it felt. Instead, he covered Nia with his blanket as best he could in their position, closed his eyes, and rested his head against the bulkhead. The only thing he cared about right now was making sure she stayed safe.
Chapter thirteen
Nia’sstomachgrowled,thenclenched.So hungry.She didn’t know how long it had been since she’d eaten anything. But she was comfortable and didn’t want to move, even to relieve the insistent pressure of her bladder.
Something beeped.
“Five more minutes,” she whispered, snuggling deeper.
“Okay, five more. But that’s it.”
The accented voice rumbled beneath her cheek. Her fingernails dug into fabric and felt pectoral muscles with no give. Her cheek was pressed against abdominals, her shoulder against—
She pushed away, scrambling. Mace’s arms and a blanket dropped from her shoulders and the cold of the room rushed in, chilling the exposed skin of her throat and hands. Against the opposite bulkhead, she shivered and wrapped her arms around her body, willing away the involuntary reaction she’d had to his nearness.
Amusement twinkled in his eyes. Nia clenched her hands, the embarrassment heating her cheeks quickly replaced with anger. Exhaling an irritated breath, she jumped off the bed and dashed to the washroom. Her limbs shook as she braced her hands against the edge of the counter. She blamed it on fatigue and hunger. It took her a minute to collect herself and use the facilities, finishing with a splash of water on her face. Her stomach cramped again.
Leaving the washroom, her gaze went to Mace sitting on the edge of the bed, legs over the side. Eyes narrowed, she aimed past him for the refrigeration unit. She needed carbs and proteins first. Halfway there, Mace stopped her with a hand on her wrist.
She glared at his fingers, hating how his touch no longer repulsed her—if it ever did.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Her gaze flew to his, and her heart lurched at the concern in his tone, the way his eyes searched her face. Nia swallowed around the sudden dryness in her mouth and touched her overheated cheek. “What do you mean?”
“You passed out when we returned yesterday.”
“I did?” She scanned her memories of the previous day, knew she’d been exhausted when returning to his quarters. She’d just needed to rest and thought she’d made it to the bed.Apparently not.
He hadn’t let go of her wrist, warmth turning into pleasant tingles. She licked her dry lips. “It was probably from fatigue, dehydration, and lack of food.”
When he pulled her closer, she didn’t resist, and stood between his legs, the heat of his thighs warming her hips.
“Fatigue and dehydration?” His deep voice rumbled through her, doing unwanted things to her blood pressure. “Doesn’t sound healthy, doctor.” He was close enough that she could feel his words in her chest, and see the lights above reflected in the blue of his irises.
The hand on her wrist increased in temperature with each passing second. Nia cleared her throat. “I’m used to pumping myself full of stimulants during a shift. The medics here don’t seem to indulge, so I didn’t either.” And for the first time, reaching for a mood modifier seemed odd—when no one else was doing it.
“And again, doctor, that doesn’t sound very healthy.”
“It’s not,” she said, staring at his mouth. How could his lips look soft? They’d been so angry yesterday. He’d threatened that man. He’d abducted her from her home, destroyed her station.Killed people.It was what he did for a living, he killed people.
Struggling between her emotions and common sense, Nia pulled away. He let go of her wrist. She retreated to the kitchen, keeping her face averted as she searched for each of the four food groups in his refrigeration unit. She continued to ignore him as she sat at the table and ate her meal but felt his eyes on her. Finally, he rose from the bed and went to the washroom.
As soon as the door closed, her shoulders sagged forward, hands shaking.
He scared her—and not in the way he was supposed to, not as a Tellusian, her enemy. It was something different altogether, something that made her more aware of him than any other man in her life.
The thought took her back toElara Five, where she’d dated becausewhy not? No person had caused her heart to race the way it was now. When she’d been with Calvin, she’d needed enhancers to make their intimacy tolerable. Now every touch, every look of Mace’s made her stomach flutter and her chest squeeze.
It has to be because I’m stuck here. It had to be because he was the only man she spent any length of time with and her psyche was latching onto him—any other reason created a tide of panic.
