Wanted: White Russian Read online

  "Perfectly."

  For several moments, they stood there, looking at each other. Yuri was sure lust flared in his eyes, and he didn't try to conceal it. He wanted her to know what she was getting herself into. Especially since she thought him the monster his 15

  Wanted: White Russian

  by Marteeka Karland

  cover painted. Best to get it all out in the open now. Her eyes widened slightly, and she backed up a fraction before jerking her knife away and sheathing it in one smooth motion.

  Without another word, she spun around, stomped to the control station and threw herself into the seat.

  Yuri smiled. This was definitely turning out to be his day.

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  16

  Wanted: White Russian

  by Marteeka Karland

  Chapter Two

  Tiressa's heart pounded as she finished preparing the ship for takeoff. There was no way this was a good idea. She'd have to space him the first chance she got. That was a man who could talk a woman right out of her panties with little to no effort at all and kill her before she knew he'd turned on her. She was terrified of him, of the kind of man he was, yet there was some kind of magnetism about him she knew she was helpless to resist for long.

  Her clearance for departure came long before she was ready to leave, and the docking clamps released with an audible clang. The station docking personnel practically shoved her out of the hangar and locked the door tightly, refusing to answer her calls that her ship wasn't ready to leave.

  "Sons of bitches," she swore under her breath. "I should have known better."

  "Better than what? To take refuge from a nebula storm?"

  Her "guest" echoed her thoughts quietly. Strange how he truly sounded concerned. Probably for his own hide. "One wrong move, and we're both history. Have you ever navigated a nebula storm on your own?"

  Tiressa ignored him. Establishing any kind of common ground with him would be a mistake. She'd do the best she could. If she failed, they'd both be dead. She was still shaking from her fit of temper earlier. She'd gotten so close to him, she could smell his unique, masculine scent and the stale 17

  Wanted: White Russian

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  tang of sweat clinging to him from his incarceration. If he hadn't been bound securely, he could have done some serious damage to her.

  With many misgivings, Tiressa fired her thrusters and maneuvered away from the closed docking bay. Plasma starbursts from the storm sparkled and snapped an ungodly amount of energy. Little sparks of fire-like light exploded where the energy made it past the security field surrounding the station.

  "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Dubnikov's gravelly voice was low and unobtrusive, as if he were making sure not to distract her even though they had yet to leave the shelter of the station.

  Tiressa didn't answer at first, but the more she thought about it, the more she felt she owed him an answer. He might be a hardened, sadistic sociopath, but if he was going to die, he deserved to make peace with whatever deity he believed in.

  "No. But I don't have much of a choice. They want you off this station and, unfortunately, that means they're kicking us out. I suppose if you pray, now's the time."

  "I can help you navigate this if you'll let me." Tiressa didn't like the way his voice slid under her skin. Even in this situation, where she was pretty sure they were going to die, she wanted to groan. The man simply oozed sex. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

  "Can you do it from over there? Chained? Because I'm not letting you loose. I'm not stupid." She tried to fill her voice with as much contempt as she could.

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  Wanted: White Russian

  by Marteeka Karland

  "Fine. Just do what I tell you, and maybe we'll make it."

  That surprised her. She had expected his offer would come at a price, most likely his freedom. After all, he was dead no matter what. There was no way he would be allowed to live once he was turned over to the Justice Warriors. Not with the crimes he had been accused of.

  Without waiting for her to respond, he started giving quiet instructions. "Turn off your main engines. You're less likely to ignite the plasma if you use only your thrusters and only in short bursts."

  "With the main engines shut down, I won't be able to move quickly."

  "If you need to move that quickly, you're already dead."

  His inflection didn't change. It was almost maddening. The man could have been an android. Well, if it hadn't been for the almost palpable lust when she'd held that knife to his throat.

  She swallowed. "I see what you mean. OK, any help would be appreciated."

  "Just drift with the flow. The stellar material is highly unstable, but if you just flow through the nebula where it takes you, it will act like a river, taking you downstream between the banks."

  "And if I hit a rock?"

  "That's what the thrusters are for. When you see you're headed for a pocket of active stellar material, you glide around it."

  Tiressa turned her seat to look at him. "Glide around it?

  Are you fucking nuts?"

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  Wanted: White Russian

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  He just gave her a sexy grin and shrugged one brawny shoulder. "I'm just telling you the way I do it. It's always worked for me."

  She swiveled her chair sharply back to the viewscreen. "I must be out of my mind."

  "Quite possibly," he replied, seeming to think it over seriously, "but I've always thought most women secretly had a danger fetish. I'm betting you're getting excited just thinking about trying this."

  "Correction, you're the one out of his mind. I just want to be safe and sound back inside that space station, away from the danger."

  "So you say, but I notice you didn't try really hard to stay.

  Had you put as much effort into bullying the station authorities as you did with me a while ago, I seriously doubt we'd be out here now."

  She wanted to deny it, but what was the use? She'd always hated being cooped up. She'd been raised in the vastness of space, wandering from station to station, planet to planet at will. The thought of being cornered until nature decided to let her leave hadn't set well with her.

  "I wouldn't call it a danger fetish so much as I just don't like being forced to stay in one place very long. Believe me.

  You tagging along wasn't on the menu."

  "Hum... I like the way you put that."

  She couldn't help the twitch of a smile on her lips. Thank goodness her back was to him. "In your dreams, flyboy."

  "Oh, definitely in my dreams."

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  Wanted: White Russian

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  "Look, if you don't have anything constructive to contribute, just shut the hell up. We're probably going to die, and I'd like to do so in relative peace."

  His soft chuckle vibrated through her insides, settling low in her belly. Damn. Why did he have to be so sexy? He was a dangerous criminal who would probably just as soon kill her as look at her.

  Taking a deep breath, Tiressa hit the thrusters for a two-second burst and glided gently into the crackling, colorful gas of the nebula. Colorful swatches of fine dust grazed the hull of the ship, and soon she understood what Dubnikov meant. The ship seemed to be caught up in a current, carrying them straight to the heart of the cloud.

  For a long time, she just sat there, glued to the screen.

  She had to be ready to nudge the ship away from any densities in the nebula, as those could fry the ship's shield and eat through the hull, the energy was so powerful and volatile.

  Once, Tiressa didn't nudge the ship far enough, and her starboard wing grazed a pocket of compressed gas. Sensors blared, and a quick look out the porthole showed her the tip of her wing sparking where the metal had been sheared off the weaker part of the ship, sending them into an arc that was taking them straight toward another pocket of dangerous ene
rgy.

  "Just breathe, little warrior," Dubnikov said, softly. "Hit your aft thrusters for a two-second burst to start a counter spin. You'll dance right around the density."

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  Wanted: White Russian

  by Marteeka Karland

  Instinctively, she did what he commanded. Sure enough, they slid right past the stellar material sideways and right back into the current running the course of the nebula, though much faster this time. Tiressa was sitting on the edge of her chair, hardly daring to breathe. Every time she hesitated, Dubnikov quietly guided her.

  By the time they could see the clearing of the nebula and the end of the storm densities, Tiressa was sweating and shaking. Her nerves were about to snap, but she had to go on. Only a few more minutes, and they would be free. Just as she was about to let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, a pocket of storm density rolled as it grew in volume right in front of her. Energy swirled all around the ship, trapping static electricity. Her console crackled, and when she laid her fingertips on its smooth surface, a jolt hard enough to knock her arms numb flew through her hands. The force of it slammed her back into her seat. She tried to stifle her scream, but cried out all the same. How in the world she was going to navigate when she couldn't use her hands was beyond her. And right now, she needed to move them away from the cluster storm. If not, they'd likely fry.

  "Don't fire the thrusters!" Dubnikov had spoken in calm, hushed tones until now. This order, he snapped with all the authority of a man used to being obeyed. "Let the ship drift.

  The gravity within the storm will pull the ship toward it, and the momentum you already have will swing you around and into open space."

  Every instinct in Tiressa screamed at her to steer her ship to safety, but she couldn't seem to make herself disobey her 22

  Wanted: White Russian

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  prisoner. A heartbeat later, it was too late, and she was committed to his course of action. Her heart pounded, and she found herself closing her eyes, waiting for death. When nothing happened, she dared a peek and found that, indeed, her ship still faced the density, but was swinging around it and into open space, pulling free of its gravity by mass and momentum.

  Relief was so overwhelming, she almost sobbed aloud. As it was, she fell against her seat back, weak as a newborn babe. She trembled violently and knew there was no way she could do anything constructive to secure her ship or their heading.

  "You should really fire your thrusters for a couple of seconds to keep us moving away from the nebula." Dubnikov spoke in that husky, quiet voice once again. Gone was the voice of command, and in its place was that maddeningly sexy tone of voice. Thing was, Tiressa was hard-pressed to say she wasn't attracted to either.

  Her hands shook too much for her to do much more than hold down the thruster activation for a few seconds before she had to sit back again. She was lightheaded and knew she was hyperventilating. Making a conscious effort to breathe deep and slow, Tiressa put her head between her knees and just concentrated on staying conscious.

  After a while, Dubnikov said, "You did good navigating your first storm. I know seasoned veterans who couldn't have forced themselves to drift around that last density. You should be proud of yourself."

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  Wanted: White Russian

  by Marteeka Karland

  She looked up at him, her forearms still resting on her knees. "Go fuck yourself," she snapped. To her surprise, her burly captive only chuckled.

  "A little difficult, under the circumstances, but I'm willing if you are."

  Tiressa had never been so scared in her life. She had to get herself under control or she was going to be desperately, violently ill. "Just keep to yourself and let me be." Her arms were beginning to ache and throb madly now. She also realized that her fingertips were seared. Mentally, she did a quick check of her body, concentrating on any twinge of pain that shouldn't be there that would indicate an exit of the electrical current. She needed to have the med-unit check her out, but she seriously doubted if she could operate the damned thing now. If both her arms weren't broken, she'd be damned surprised.

  "Unlock the cuffs, and I'll help you."

  "Will that be before or after you kill me?" Her retort was delivered through clenched teeth. There was no way she could hide her pain long. If she was managing at all. "I'm fine."

  "Like hell," he spat. "A shock like that can shatter bone.

  You've got good muscle tone, so you were protected somewhat, but I'm betting you've broken something. Look at your hands, for fuck's sake! They're turning dark. You've cut off their blood supply somewhere, and they're burned." He pulled against the cuffs holding him to the bulkhead, muscles bulging in his arms like the most important thing in his world right now was getting to her.

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  Wanted: White Russian

  by Marteeka Karland

  Tiressa groaned. And not because of the pain, though it was growing fierce. She was a tall, muscled woman, but this man towered over her and had muscle and bulk enough for two men. Exactly the type of man she loved, but rarely came across. Too damned bad he was a murderer.

  She sighed. Killer or not, he was the only chance she had.

  There was no way she could do anything in the condition she was in, and she knew it. "I doubt very seriously I could get you loose if I tried. I have no idea how those cuffs work, and I don't think I can manipulate anything intricate at the moment."

  She fumbled with the first cuff for a moment figuring she might as well try. She didn't have any other options. It was surprisingly simple to undo it, and she had a moment to wonder if station security had set her up before Dubnikov reached for the second cuff with his free hand, released it, and was on her. She gasped when he scooped her up and headed to a small room just behind the main control room.

  How he knew where her med-unit was, Tiressa had no idea, but he carried her there without hesitation.

  With much greater gentleness than Tiressa could have believed possible for a man with his reputation, he set her in the reclining chair and brushed her forehead gently with one large hand. Dubnikov didn't say anything as he turned toward the computer and entered a sequence of commands, but when he turned back to her, his green eyes blazed.

  "You should have released me and let me pilot us out of there, and you wouldn't be in this position."

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  Wanted: White Russian

  by Marteeka Karland

  "No, you would. And I'm not at all certain I would help you if you were." The pain was starting to get to her now, and her response was gritted out through clenched teeth. "And don't think you're intimidating me with that stare. I'm hurting too much to care."

  "Yeah," he grunted. "Figured."

  The med-unit strapped her arms to the chair. A band wrapped around her arm, and a needle stabbed her at the bend of her elbow. Immediately, a euphoric feeling swept over her, and she knew it had injected pain medicine into her vein.

  "Is it working?" Dubnikov asked softly. He stroked her hair gently, and Tiressa knew she should be annoyed, but it felt good. His touch soothed her like nothing had in a very long time. Well, that and the medicine.

  "Um hum," she acknowledged, closing her eyes and giving in to the sensations. Her arms still ached, but nothing like they had moments earlier. "Your hands feel good." She hadn't meant to blurt that out, but it was true, and she wouldn't take it back. "Don't stop."

  Warmth spread through her body at his deep chuckle. He didn't stop. Instead, he massaged her scalp and combed her hair through his fingers. Tiressa was vaguely aware of the sound of his breathing, deep and regular. She didn't protest when his hands settled on her shoulders and started working their magic on her tense muscles. Though the pain medicine made her pleasantly numb, her neck and shoulders were still tight from the tension during their little jaunt through the nebula storm.

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  Wanted: White Russian

  by Marteeka Karland


  The med-unit beeped a couple of times, and her brain fogged further, the room beginning to spin. More medicine.

  She groaned, knowing it would be infinitely safer to keep her wits about her. Unfortunately, it was way too late for that.

  She enjoyed his hands on her neck and shoulders and soon just gave into the pleasure. It wasn't like she could do anything about it if he decided to take over the ship, or, worse, kill her. She was stoned.

  The med-unit closed over her body from shoulders to ankles and immediately a comfortable warmth suffused her body. There must have been more pain medicine because a fresh wave of dizziness and euphoria overtook her, and she didn't fight it.

  Delicious feelings swamped her body. It wasn't hard to imagine it was Dubnikov who was making her feel so good. In this surreal moment, there was no way she could fight her attraction enough to banish him from her thoughts. Tiressa drifted somewhere between reality and a drug-induced dream, not even trying to separate the two.

  He was truly a handsome man—blond hair flowing to his shoulders, green eyes so vivid they looked like emeralds sparkling. Tiressa instinctively knew those eyes could freeze the soul or heat the body with one glance. In her case, her body was on fire. Warmth coiled deep within her belly, and she simply let it happen.

  In her mind, Dubnikov's hands roamed her body, soothing the aches in her muscles. Her legs. Her arms. His hands seemed to be everywhere. His fingertips grazed her abdomen 27

  Wanted: White Russian

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  to just below her breasts in feather-light touches, and Tiressa moaned.

  "Do you still hurt, little warrior?"

  Dubnikov's voice seemed to come from far away even though she knew he was still next to her. "No," she mumbled, not certain if she'd formed the word correctly. Her face seemed numb due to the pain medicine the med-unit had injected her with. It occurred to her she was at the mercy of a killer, but as long as she died in a pleasant haze, she didn't really care. Everything felt too good for that.