Creed of Pleasure; the Space Miner's Concubine (The LodeStar Series) Read online

  Now Creed rose from his mat, pushing to his feet in a graceful movement. His skin prickled as if a ghostly hand brushed across his shoulders.

  In crafting his new life, including this frontier fortress, had he truly kept his demons at bay, or were they trapped inside with him?

  * * *

  Creed woke quickly as was his habit, instantly alert. Morning now, the pure golden light edging in his windows. One that he normally didn’t take time to enjoy. When his eyes opened in the morning, he was out of bed and into action. A workout, a showerdry, then breakfast and coffee before he was off to the mine.

  Unlike his actions every other morning, however, this time Creed folded one arm under his head and looked out at the pale sky, washed with lavender and gold.

  As if he hadn’t slept, his meditation memories leapt back into his mind.

  He’d forgotten Master Zhou’s words, until they soared from the mists of memory silently as a gyre hawk. Was the old man right? Was his self-imposed aloneness now simply loneliness, and thus useless? Had he dragged his demons along, instead of them pursuing him?

  And most importantly, was it possible that it was time to release them? And could he?

  Well, if he did, he’d quarking well do it in his own time. Irritation surged as he recalled Logan’s high-handedness in arranging to send him this woman. His older brother saw himself as a benevolent guardian. This latest action was so jacked, so far out of line, it took Stark well into despot territory.

  Serve him right if Creed sent his beautiful whore right back to him, this morning.

  Throwing back the coverlet, Creed sprang out of bed.

  Without pausing for his usual stretches and isometric strengthening, followed by a fight workout with the padded droid, he stepped into his showerdry and hit the hot spray.

  * * *

  Taara woke with a start when something screeched outside her window. She lifted her head from the soft pillow and stared around her, her heart pounding. Where was she?

  Then memory flooded back, of the torturous journey and her arrival, complete with the humiliation of vomiting on the very man she was supposed to entice. She flopped back on the pillow with a muffled whimper. Oh, goddess, Creed Forth had been so disgusted with her he’d linked Stark right away.

  Hurt clenched her insides as she recalled his deep voice, harsh with disgust. ‘You sent me a whore?’

  With an effort, she stuffed the raw memory away and looked around. She was in a big bedroom, decorated in plain, masculine brown and green. The big bed faced a large window, with shutters open to the air. Through a railing of what looked like real wood, a vault of blue was visible and below it a rugged horizon, with not a building in sight.

  She sat up, staring. That was sky—clear blue sky, and those were mountains—real mountains, not holovid travelogue mountains. Those rugged escarpments were rock, feathered with green that flowed down their flanks to disperse in meadows of gold leaved trees and then shrubs of soft grayed green and russet. All real. All Frontiera. It was almost like being in her cherished Serpentian vista holovid.

  Why, if she wanted to she could walk right out there and touch those shrubs, that tall grass, feel the ground under her feet and the sun on her head. If she had the time, that is. If she stayed here.

  She’d been on Frontiera only a week, long enough to help Daanel settle the few things they’d brought with them in their new apartment in F City.

  They’d spent the first few days simply exploring the small city, marveling not only at how clean and new everything was, but stopping to bask in the warm sun. Hot sun to many of the other immigrants, judging by the profusely sweating humans that passed them on the streets. But to Serpentians, it was heaven, especially after years of cold, acid rain in New Seattle. Taara realized now she’d never really felt warm there.

  But after several days, she’d left Daanel scouting locations for his new boutique, and set off on her faux journey to Serpentia to buy clothing and accessories for the store—one which would have both their names on the deed. Daanel had insisted she be a partner with him.

  He’d let her be the one to travel, ostensibly to market, because Daanel trusted her judgment, her taste, and besides they could be in instantaneous contact via holovid, so she could show him everything she found and get his approval. What he didn’t know was that she’d be collaborating via holovid to do the buying, in touch with someone Stark had hired on Serpentia, another cog in his grand scheme.

  Daanel trusted her. Taara nearly buried her head under the pillow as she remembered that she was lying to him—to the person who mattered more than anyone else in the galaxy. Her only remaining family, more like a best friend or brother than a cousin.

  The wild cry sounded through the window again, ripping her from her painful reverie. She scrambled out of the bed and hurried to the window to peer around the open shutters. She gasped with pleasure. A large bird was soaring past the house, gray wings outstretched in graceful flight. It was so big its wings were longer than she was tall. A great hawk of some kind.

  The bird’s head turned, golden glittering eyes on her. Opening its cruel beak, it gave another cry, as if to warn her it ruled this place, and she was only an interloper.

  Taara smiled, her fingers curling on the smooth wood of the shutters.

  “Hello, hawk.” Serpentia had birds of prey. Growing up there, she’d learned caution, but also respect. Then she and Daniel had used all their combined inheritances to get to Earth II, following the promise of careers in their chosen field of fashion. Once there, they’d discovered they’d traded their relatively clean native planet for one so over-populated the inhabitants lived crammed together, only the wealthy able to escape off-planet occasionally. They’d found opportunity, but done so in the frenetic crowds of New Seattle. The only wildlife was ravens and rats, adapted to scavenging human refuse.

  Now her heavy heart lifted, responding to this wild, free creature and to the bright, clear air. To the hush of quiet.

  An answering cry sounded, further away. She leaned out to look up. Another hawk circled above. Its mate. What did they hunt? She’d have to open a hololink to the galactic web, and learn more about the creatures here. Not like she’d had the time or energy in the frantic activity of the past weeks.

  Although, she wasn’t going to be staying unless she did some very fast maneuvering to patch over her less than stellar arrival. She put a hand to her hair, a tumbled mess. Ack, she’d fallen into bed still in the red dress, and without washing her face or cleansing her teeth. She grimaced. Her mouth tasted like she’d licked the floor of Flash, a fun but sleazy nightclub in New Seattle.

  Hurrying across the room, she opened the bag Creed Forth had set on a bench. She rummaged inside, and then with an impatient hiss, she picked up the entire bag and toted it into the big lav. A very nice lav, new and luxurious without being opulent. Cerametal fitments and real wood cupboards. Although, like the bedroom, it was done entirely in brown and green. A man had clearly chosen the hues.

  The place cried out for color and texture. Which made her fingers itch for design materials. Then she grimaced. She was so out of practice she’d probably create rubbish.

  She’d worked in fashion all her young adult life, and worked her way up to the pinnacle at Maitresse, which catered to the uber-wealthy. She’d loved being surrounded with beautiful things, with furnishings and especially clothing. She dreamed of selling her own line of colorful, quirky but lovely clothing and perhaps home accessories. She could lose herself in her designs and make her living creating clothing instead of just fitting it on wealthy clients.

  She even collected scraps of rich fabrics from the waste bin at Maitresse. Sometimes when she was alone she laid them out and imagined what she’d do with each one, how she’d combine them. But she always ended up putting them back in the container, feeling guilty about dreaming such grand dreams. She wasn’t the kind who made her dreams come true—one had to have true courage for that.

  Now she cas
t an almost furtive look at the table under the big windows. It would make a perfect surface for design work. If she stayed here, she’d have time on her hands.

  When she wasn’t playing the seductress, that is. She shook her head at her own imaginings, and went to step into the showerdry cubicle.

  The showerdry did a great deal to rejuvenate her, with plenty of hot water and then powerful puffs of warm air that dried her hair and skin quickly. Stepping out, she looked at her flushed, dewy reflection in the big mirrors and smiled determinedly. There, now some cosmetics and one of her new ensembles and she’d be ready.

  Ready to become exactly what Creed Forth had called her. A whore.

  She stared at herself in the mirror. Her mouth turned down at the corners, her eyes shadowed. Her hands trembled as she smoothed lotion on her skin—luxurious new lotion that smelled faintly of exotic flowers, paid for with Logan Stark’s credit.

  The man she’d been sent to seduce didn’t want her here. But to save Daanel and herself, she had to convince him to let her stay, had to break through that cold barrier he held around himself. She must be alluring, when all she wanted to do was dive back on the cruiser that had brought her here, and beg the pilot to take her away.

  At least the first time she’d been marked for forced seduction, the man had wanted her. Oh, how he’d wanted her. She shuddered with revulsion at the long ago but still raw memory of her father’s business partner, a lean, sly Serpentian with a feral light in his eyes when he looked at her.

  Her father had laughed off her uneasiness, telling her the man had plenty of lovers and wouldn’t be interested in a teen. Her mother had understood, and promised to be sure Taara never had to be alone with him. But of course she had been, the day she’d gone to him for help.

  That day he’d put his hands on her, as he’d made an offer he thought she couldn’t refuse.

  ‘Let me have you and I’ll save your family.’

  But she’d run away, too frightened and disgusted by his advances to realize what her refusal would mean—that instead of rescuing her parents from the path of one of Serpentia’s notorious desert sandstorms, he’d left them to die.

  And for the rest of her life Taara would remember that she could have saved them.

  Well, she could save Daanel and herself now. And really, would her task be so difficult? Not like she had to stand on a street corner, trying to entice some horrible stranger. With protection readily available against unwanted pregnancy and STIs, she’d had light-hearted, fun sex with guys she met clubbing in New Seattle. She’d just pretend seducing Creed Forth was like that.

  And maybe if she worked hard at it, she’d believe her own lie.

  * * *

  “You’re awake.”

  Taara whirled at the sound of the soft, deep voice. She stared at the man who’d materialized silently behind her. She’d been following the wide balcony around the big house and admiring the wild valley that lay below on this eastern side, but he was an equally fascinating sight, and not as frightening as he’d seemed in the night.

  Creed Forth stood in the same stance she’d noted last night—his big, lean body relaxed but poised, ready for anything. His skin gleamed in the golden morning light, and his dark blond hair, ruthlessly short on the sides, longer on the top, was combed damply up and away from his face.

  And oh, that face. If she’d thought him handsome in the holovid, in person, in sunlight, he was riveting, a male in his prime. From his chiseled face, utterly masculine in its planes and hollows, blue eyes watched her with the intentness of a large predator, studying her as if deciding whether to frighten her away, or devour her. The irridium comlink molded to the upper curve of his ear only made him a sophisticated predator.

  Silly. She was letting her imagination run away with her. He was a good man. Coy said so, and Logan Stark had said so, although why she should trust him she didn’t know. Daanel was always telling her she was too willing to believe the best of beings. But if she didn’t, then where did that leave her? Sad and cynical. She wasn’t sure she could bear to live that way.

  Creed Forth’s forbidding look deepened into a frown and Taara jolted in embarrassment, tinged with fear. Right, he’d spoken to her, and here she was staring at him like a modelbot without an activation chip.

  “Good morning, Creed.” She tilted her head and smiled at him. Her voice sounded breathless, probably because she was having trouble breathing. Oh, snakeskins, she was really going to do this. Try her best to tempt a man who didn’t want her. And not think about how humiliating that was.

  Her stomach growled suddenly, loud in the quiet morning hush, and she caught her breath on a nervous half-laugh, patting her midriff.

  His gaze had fastened on her mouth with fascination. Now it snapped down to her hand on her belly. Her humiliation deepened. Oh, goddess, could this become any more of a farce? She was so not the seductress Logan Stark had hired.

  Although she was dressed as one. After her showerdry she’d coaxed her blonde hair into soft waves from a side part and applied cosmetics. Then she’d touched perfume to her wrists and throat. She was here to be alluring. Time to get on with it.

  She wore the most modest of the new ensembles she’d brought with her—which wasn’t saying much—a pair of silk tights the same green as her eyes, with a fitted tunic in a subtle pattern of shades of green that changed as she moved. The neckline swooped low to bare one shoulder and deep slits cut up to bare a vee of hip on either side. Creed liked green; this was clear from his decor.

  As his hot, blue gaze traveled up over her body, her nipples tightened into hard little knots, the fabric abrading them. She shifted restlessly, toes curling in her soft flats, this time with a wholly different kind of tension.

  “You’d better come and eat,” was all he said. “Before you leave.”

  “Before I leave?”

  He’d started to turn back to the house. Now he looked at her over his shoulder, a pose so similar to the holovid she’d studied for days that she stared, despite her dismay. His next words sent her spirits plummeting.

  “You can’t stay here.”

  Wait. He was throwing her out? After all she’d gone through? Shopping for seductive clothing, going to visit that professional courtesan, even lying to everyone about where she’d be? And just when she’d made up her mind that she could and would do this?

  Oh, no, he was not. This made her want to coil and hiss like an outraged viper. She wasn’t a Serpentian, descendant of generations of seductresses, for nothing.

  Letting her lashes droop, she smiled again, this time touching one hand delicately to her throat, and then stroking her fingers down over the bare skin of her chest, to the drooping neckline of her top, where she stroked idly back and forth.

  “I’m sorry you don’t want me to stay,” she said softly. “A man like you must have needs.”

  His jaw tightened, and a flush darkened his cheekbones. Her spirits rose cautiously. His next words dashed them again.

  “You know nothing about me,” he said, his deep voice cold. “Or any needs I have.”

  “No,” she agreed. “Not if you won’t let me. But I’d like to learn.” She sauntered past him, swinging her hips.

  “You’re going the wrong way,” he noted helpfully behind her. “The galley and dining room are this way.”

  Taara swung around, her own face hot. “Well then, why don’t you show me?” she suggested, still sweetly, even though her teeth were clenched.

  His mouth twitched and he turned to lead the way. Great, now he was laughing at her. She would love to deliver a well-placed kick to that tight, rounded ass.

  He walked with such prowling grace, as if he held the strength of his lean body on a tight leash. She sighed. She’d love to unleash him and use him as if he were the one who was supposed to pleasure her. She liked sex a lot, with the right male. If she were a legendary Serpentian beauty like Sirena Blaize, who had seduced her way through the males of the galaxy—and who, come to think
of it, had also wed a virgin prince—she would chase this man until she let him catch her. And then she’d allow him to pleasure her.

  But she wasn’t a great seductress. She was just a desperate woman who had to convince him he wanted to catch her—and she was running out of time.

  Chapter Five

  Sometimes the basics worked. As Creed Forth stopped inside the open doors of the house, gesturing politely for her to precede him, Taara stepped close to him and put her hand on his arm. A frisson of pleasure spread through her. Even through the thin shirt, he was so warm and hard, muscles bulging under her fingers.

  “Your house is beautiful,” she said. This was true. It needed a few decorations, sure, but with him in it, she could hardly take her gaze off of him, anyway. He was a beautiful man, and she was nothing if not susceptible to beauty.

  This close, she could smell him too. Male, clean and healthy, with none of the colognes or heavily scented lotions that men favored on Earth II, to mask the unsavory smells of the city. This was all man and fresh air.

  And her move was working. He had that hungry look again. This close, his face was even more striking, his skin smooth and tanned, his brows a shade of gold just darker than his hair, his lashes thick and dark, emphasizing the deep blue of his eyes. She gazed up into them, shivering with feminine awareness as they narrowed, then dropped to her mouth. Her lips parted and she waited, breathless with anticipation.

  A steady, rhythmic thump grew louder—footsteps. Taara watched with dismay as Creed Forth’s expression went blank. He let go of her and stepped back so quickly she rocked on her feet.

  “Morning, boss,” said a woman’s rich voice. “Got breakfast for you. Nels says you have guests, so I brought plenty—oh!”

  With a last look at her—one that seared even as it dismayed her, Creed turned away, revealing a statuesque woman in the open doors leading into the house. She had long, wavy black hair, golden skin and dark eyes that were trained on Taara, her surprise evident. She wore black tights and a tunic brilliant with red flowers and green leaves.