Korven's Fire: Dragon Prince of Wye Page 4

  Adelle continued to rant about sloppy mechanics costing lives as she searched for the missing wrenches. Sweat collected in the small of her back, soaking the fabric of her tank top. Korven tried not to stare but there was no harm in looking. He wanted to lick the sweat and salt off her glistening skin. Her skin was different than his. She didn’t have the scale pattern covering vital organs. Was it softer? What would that downy fuzzy hair on her arms feel like under his palms. She was so different.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

  Why was he here? Why did he torture himself admiring a female he could never have?

  There was no end game with Adelle. Korven couldn’t take her as a mate and bring her home to Wye. Assuming he didn’t injure her while he was in the grips of the Fever. Assuming she would even accept him as a mate. And then what? Present her to his family? Build a nest?

  For a moment he toyed with the idea of their nest and which environment on Wye Adelle would prefer. The mountains? Woodlands? The shore? The prairie? Maybe she would prefer the noise and excitement of the city. They could easily set up in one of the metropolitan centers. Adelle could open a little shop, tinkering and fixing whatever machines she desired. Or she could not work and raise their nestlings.

  Maybe planet side was too limiting. Adelle had mentioned that she grew up on an orbital station and a cargo ship. Wye had one antiquated spaceport. Its small capacity limited the amount of Wye’s trade with the Interstellar Union.

  Korven decided in that instant that he would build a new, gleaming spaceport, a gateway to the Interstellar Union, for Adelle. Anything she desired. The galaxy would come to them.

  His decision was practical in addition to romantic. Wye needed to modernize its navy, that was the point of Prince Ragnar’s long tour of the IU, and that modern navy needed somewhere to dock.

  Satisfaction rumbled in his chest. By the Celestial Mother, what he would build for her...

  Ragnar was right. This was a mistake. Korven was in the grip of the Fever. He should have stayed away.

  Adelle reached for a flask of water, holding the cool metal container her to her forehead before opening and drinking. “Doesn’t the heat bother you? It’s boiling in here.”

  “I haven’t really noticed.” Wyers ran warm and the Fever raged within him.

  “Well, I need to fix the thermal exchange before my brains melt.”

  Korven paused, lusty thoughts halted. “Can that happen to Terrans?”

  “Figure of speech.” She squatted back down at the removed panel. “But I have to say, I’m not sure what you were paying the previous mechanic for because it wasn’t for maintenance. They didn’t do a lick of maintenance. I know sales people say you can weld the engine room shut and the ship will run for ages, but that’s bullshit. Parts wear. Parts need to be replaced. No system is perfect. Everything needs basic maintenance.”

  Korven crouched down beside her, intrigued. “What is wrong with the thermal matrix?”

  “Exchange. The thermal matrix is that thing there.” She pointed to a panel glowing a bright yellow.”

  “Is it meant to be that color?”

  “If we’re not exploding, yes. The engine makes heat. A lot of heat. The thermal exchange moves that heat to the rest of the ship. Basic stuff. But the pumps get brittle due to all the heat. All these little bits get fickle and seize. ” The wrench worked at another panel. Huffing, she gave the panel a good yank and it fell forward, revealing a row of matte black boxes. “These things are amazingly durable but nothing lasts forever. They have a lifespan of a year. It’s easier to just replace the entire unit than take it apart.”

  More wrench action and the black boxes came off one by one, replaced with glossy new black boxes, all the while she ranted about lazy mechanics being dead mechanics. With the last one in place, Adelle fell back to the floor, arms splayed wide. “Finally. The temperature’s going down.”

  Korven handed her the water bottle. She took it without a word. “Should I inform the captain?”

  “Nah. I’ll write up an invoice, let him shit kittens and we’ll talk about how life support isn’t really optional.” She took a long pull from the bottle and looked at him subtly from the corner of her eye. “Why are you here?”

  “Prince Ragnar wanted to know why the temperature dropped in his cabin.”

  If Adelle knew he lied, she didn’t mention it. What could he say? His cousin, His Royal Highness Prince Ragnar, forbade him from her and now every instinct screamed out to claim the Terran and fuck her senseless on the floor?

  No. It was worse than that. His every instinct screamed out to claim the Terran and build a future with her.

  Adelle

  “I need something stronger than water,” Adelle said, stripping off her gloves. “Break time.”

  Korven walked her to the employees’ lounge, which was sweet in a way but unnecessary. His entire body seemed to vibrate with anger. If she made him so angry, why was he always finding a reason to visit her in the engine room?

  Inside the lounge, Adelle spotted Widget sprawled on a settee, feet propped up on the arms and her head on a cushion. She held a tablet aloft, watching a program. Adelle headed toward the bar to mix herself a drink. Something with ice. Lots of ice.

  Korven gave her a short bow and left. So stiff. So formal. Why bother walking with her if he didn’t enjoy it?

  “Watch out for that Korven,” Widget said, sliding into the seat next to Adelle.

  “What do you mean?”

  Widget turned around and watched Korven exit the lounge. His retreating figure made a fine sight. That ass: firm and just enough for a girl to grab onto and... oh no. Was this a crush? Adelle did a quick assessment, going down a checklist like she was a taking inventory of her tools. Excited to see him? She literally just told him she was glad he came to engineering. Elevated heart rate? Shit.

  “You know what I mean,” Widget said, head swiveling back to face Adelle. “Be careful.”

  “You’re going to have to spell it out for me.” Widget was friendly enough but she was tired of the pilot’s games.

  “He’s weird, okay? Weird and not in that sexy-as-fuck way. Just plain old weird.”

  “I think he’s sweet.”

  Widget’s eyes narrowed. “He’s Wyer.”

  “So?” Adelle never suspected the pilot on a multi-species crew to be a xenophobe.

  “Wyers are weird. You know they go into heat and have to screw a bunch of people, right? Like they have a big party the first time it happens to them. Marks them as an adult. Can you imagine your parents throwing a party and getting you laid?” Scandalous tones laced her voice but Adelle knew better. Widget was intrigued.

  “I hadn’t heard that.” Adelle wished she paid better attention to xenobiology 101 back in school. “You think the employee handbook would mention something like that since our boss is Wyer.”

  “Now Ragnar,” she said with a whistle. “I wouldn’t mind warming his bunk.”

  Adelle was sure Prince Ragnar had better than a simple bunk in his suite. She hadn’t been in his private room yet—had no reason, really—but if the rest of the yacht was any indication, it was decadence personified. The Prince had money and a distinct lack of restraint.

  “I’m not warming anyone’s bunk,” Adelle said.

  “Sure you’re not.”

  “Stop it. Korven isn’t like that. We just talk.”

  “Your lips say no but your body scream yes, yes, give me that scaly green alien.”

  Adelle shouldn't laugh. That was just mean. Korven wasn’t bad looking. At all. He was handsome with even features, dark eyes and a voice like chocolate. The hunch kept him humble, otherwise he’d be too damn good looking. Ragnar, however, was gorgeous. And her boss. And royalty. Thus completely off limits. She’d never even spoken to him. Ragnar didn’t haunt her daydreams the way Korven did. “He’s sweet. I like him.”

  “Yeah, sweetness aside, just remember there’s no ship in the universe big enough for a
bad romance.”

  “Right. Keep it in your pants on the job.” She was lucky to land this job. Servicing the luxury yacht of a spoiled prince was a hell of a lot better than doing a three year tour with a mining company.

  So far the job had been a dream. For the last month, Ragnar cruised from star port to star port, wherever his fancy took him. The pay was good. Chow was decent. Her cabin was, well, small but she’d slept in worse. It was a good job. She didn’t need to screw it up by developing a crush on scaly green alien, even if he was the sexiest thing on two legs she’d ever seen.

  No. Stop objectifying Korven. Once she turned him into a sexual object, it was easier to imagine herself having sex with him and once she imagined that, it’d be easier to actually have sex with him. And Widget was right, there was no ship big enough to contain a bad romance. When they broke up or fell apart, Adelle would be stuck looking for another job. And they would break up because every man in her life abandoned her. No matter how hot and heavy Korven came on now, he already had one foot out the door. No thanks.

  Adelle refilled her and Widget’s glass. “Message received.”

  “Seriously? Did I just give you a come-to-Jesus moment?”

  “Sure, why not.”

  Widget’s hand fluttered to her chest and she smiled, pleased with herself. “Look at me being the mature, responsible one.”

  ***

  “You shouldn’t make promises you have no intention of keeping,” a gruff voice said.

  Korven’s large frame approached her. She stepped backwards until she hit the wall. He planted an arm on either side of her, pinning her. A hungry look settled on his face, like a predator at the top of the food chain contemplating a snack.

  Adelle was fairly positive she was the snack. “You gonna do something about it or are you all talk and no action.”

  That sounded like a come on, but she fully intended to call his bluff. Korven had been flirting with her for weeks now and nothing came of it. He needed to either do something about it or leave her alone.

  “You tempt me, Terran.” He lowered his head, nose nuzzling the base of her neck. Her nipples hardened immediately.

  Adelle gasped. This dominant, aggressive side was new and her body responded to it. Craved it, even. Her plan to call his bluff backfired.

  How tempting could she be at the moment? She stank and needed a shower desperately but he didn’t seem to mind. Appreciated it, even. A growl rattled in his throat, sending vibrations into her chest.

  “Maybe you’re tempting me,” she managed to say. Didn’t she just swear to Widget that’d she keep it in her pants and stay professional? Yeah, that lasted for all for two minutes. Real resolve there. Korven had a raw attraction. It made the circuits in her brain misfire. All the alarms that normally spotted a bad idea where silent. “What else is a girl suppose to think when you come into her workshop and stare?”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking for.” His leg wedged open hers and he leaned in, grinding against the apex of her thighs. His tongue, wet and rough, licked the cords of her neck. Sensation exploded and for a brief moment, she forgot her own name.

  Her mind and body were at war with their desires. Her mind told her that messing with the alien male was bad news. It was heartbreak waiting to happen. Everyone left her. He was no different.

  Her body, though, was shouting in unmitigated joy. Yes! Get some! Worry about the consequences later because right now was oh-so good.

  She was a hot mess.

  “Oh, fuck me,” she moaned, half plea and half exasperation. Such a hot mess.

  Korven pressed his forehead to hers, hands gripping her shoulders. “When you understand, I will.”

  “Wait.” Adelle blinked, collecting her scattered thoughts. “That wasn’t an invitation.” But if he pushed, she wasn’t going to say no. She needed…

  What did she need? A cold shower.

  She planted both on the center of his chest, tried not to notice the harness of his muscles, and pushed. “You make it a habit to groping women in the corridors?”

  “Just you.” A grin played at the corners of his mouth, doing nothing to alleviate the hungry look. If anything, it made it worse.

  So this is what a bad idea looked like. A sexy, bad idea.

  Her resolve firmed. Korven wasn’t that sexy. Not sexy enough to risk her job. Not sexy enough to endure the heartbreak when he inevitably left her. And it was a small ship. “You need to stay away from me,” she said.

  “I try.”

  “Oh, this is trying? Licking me is trying to stay away?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not very good at it.”

  Fucking aliens.

  Frustration poured through her. Anger was easier to summon than restraint or self-denial. The drink in the lounge may have made her feel a bit frisky, but anger brought reason back. “You know what, I’m good enough for the both of us. The next time you come into my workshop and stare at my ass, I’m taking my omni tool to your nut sack. Got it?”

  “I like your ass and starring does no harm.”

  “Is this a game to you? You think you can toy with my emotions? Like I’m a plaything? This,” she smacked a hand on her chest, then his, “is a bad idea. Can’t happen. I need this job and I’m not letting a green scaly bastard ruin it. So leave me alone.”

  A pained looked flashed in his eyes. The vertical pupils constricted. “You are not a plaything.”

  “Oh, fuck off, Korven.” She ducked under his arm and escaped his grasp.

  She stormed into her cabin, flinging off clothes and stepping into the shower. Steam and a fine mist enveloped her. It soothed her muscles but it did not soothe her anger. What was his deal? He came into her workshop, sat on the floor getting an eyeful of her ass and tits, felt her up in the hall —twice— got her all worked up to the point where screwing him seemed like a really good idea, and then told her no. Told her she didn’t know what she was asking for.

  Like hell she did. She wanted a good hard fuck. That’s what she asked for and she thought that’s what he offered.

  Fucking aliens. You never knew what went on in their heads.

  Soap and tension washed away as she slumped against the wall of the narrow shower. She couldn’t have a romance with Korven. The ship was already too small.

  Chapter Seven

  Adelle

  “Additional duties as required.” Mrs. Wardarms held out the black uniform as if it were the height of fashion and not a backward relic.

  “Additional duties mean I serve drinks to the Prince and his snobby friends all night?”

  “And food.”

  “And why the sudden need to be all formal for the Prince? Haven’t his guests been on board for a week?” An evening stuck with the Prince was an evening she’d have to spend near Korven. She’d done a decent job of avoiding him in the last week, leaving rooms when he entered, even if it meant walking away from her half-finished dinner.

  “Prince Ragnar has chosen to entertain casually. Now he wishes for a formal evening.” And formal meant the crew paraded in stuffy Wye uniforms and waited on him and his cronies hand and foot.

  Adelle snatched the garment from Mrs. Wardarms, frowning mightily. So mightily.

  “And do something about your fingernails,” she said. “They look filthy.”

  Adelle raised her hand to the light, examining her nails. Grease stained the nail beds. She’d scrubbed and scrubbed but that stain would never come out. “They are clean.”

  “Well they appear to be filthy and no one wants their food handled by a—”

  “Filthy greasemonkey?”

  “Paint them if you can’t get them clean.”

  Adelle mumbled agreement and headed back to her cabin.

  The uniform assembled in layers: tight fitting ankle length trousers under a long, thin blouse, under a stiff, floor-length coat. The cut in the shoulders was tight, limiting movement. A wide belt buckled directly under her bust, making deep breathes painful. This was a servant�
�s uniform? It was torture.

  In the hall, a uniform free Widget spotted Adelle. She pointed and laughed. “Oh, look at you! You poor sucker. The color is just awful on you, really brings out the rage in your eyes.”

  “Shut it,” Adelle muttered. “And why are you laughing? You gotta humiliate yourself, too.”

  “Nope,” she replied brightly. “I’m the pilot. There could be gravitational anomalies so I need to stay at the helm.”

  Adelle narrowed her eyes. “And Olver and Derix?”

  “Security. Can’t protect the Prince if they’re serving drinks.”

  “The captain?”

  “Too busy captaining.”

  “Korven?” She dreaded to ask. Please, she pleaded silently, let him find a way to weasel out of the party.

  Widget shrugged. “He’s the butler or something. I guess he’ll be there.”

  Adelle didn’t know what Korven was in relationship to the prince but he wasn’t simply the butler. “Mr. and Mrs. Wardarms?”

  “They are already working. You’re helping them tonight.”

  “So because I’m new, I got stuck with the crap job of cleaning up after the Prince all night.”

  Widget smiled and patted Adelle on the top of her head like a child. “Oh, sweetie. You’ll be fighting off drunken advances all night, too.”

  “Fantastic,” she said sourly.

  “Next time be smart enough to think of a reason you’re too busy for those other duties,” Widget said in a blithely happy sing-song voice as she skipped away.

  The narrow galley kitchen was the center of a culinary storm. Mr. Wardarms moved too fast between pots and ovens and plates and trays and back again, it made her dizzy to watch.