Free Fusion (Crimson Romance) by Candace Sams Page A

he’d touch. He’d be her last lover.
    He let his tongue entwine with hers and felt heat drill into his body. That molten sensation hadn’t been present in ages. Even his most ardent lovers in the past had never dredged this encompassing, flooding sensation of passion. Blood rushed into his penis. He was rock hard in an instant. But then he’d been ready for an erection since meeting this woman. And when he heard her moan deep in the back part of her throat and felt her hands splay across his shoulders, only the sound of an approaching craft routed him from the embrace.
    “Someone’s coming,” he blurted and was on his feet in an instant. From beneath the blankets, he retrieved the laser weapon and saw Lyra pull a Condorian blade from its hiding place beneath a rock. Her weapon would do little good unless a hand-to-hand confrontation ensued. Still, he admired her courage. Any enemy facing
her
would see the blade as it was clearly marked with Condorian edges and half-moon designs on the handle. They’d know it had been removed from a fallen fighter.
    Long years of battle experience forced them simultaneously to their knees, to make smaller targets of themselves. The craft glided over the top of a nearby hill. If its occupants fired on them, he and Lyra were better off close to the ground.
    He held off using his laser when the unmarked craft — bearing a very humanoid looking male pilot — put the conveyance in hover mode several yards from where they crouched. As it came closer to the ground, another cloaked figure became visible. This person was seated in the back of the open, elliptical-shaped, silver transport.
This
being, however, didn’t bear the fair-colored complexion that he and Lyra shared. In the hazy light, the female he stared at appeared blue or green. Her hair was very pale and cut quite close to her skull.
    “Elderian,” he blurted when a tall, lanky woman with pointed ears stood.
    “An allied world,” Lyra responded as she sighed in relief.
    Soldar noted how Lyra didn’t re-sheath her blade. He understood her caution as he kept his own weapon ready. Whoever this Elderian was, she could easily give them away. Some civilians did that to allied troops when they mistakenly thought Condorians might let them live.
    He stood beside Lyra as the hovercraft passenger stepped off her vehicle and walked toward them. Because of the sand and rocks beneath her craft, the lady had to pick up the hem of the long, expensive, whitish gown she wore.
    “I’m Aigean Florn,” she announced in perfect Earth English. “I see you’re wearing clothing my employees mistakenly discarded from my ship.” She looked them over. “Who are you?”
    Soldar stepped closer to Aigean. “I am Soldar Nar — obviously from Craetoria. In the last message you sent, you welcomed someone of my race to board the Venus.” He didn’t want to say too much, in case she’d been found out and was being monitored. This woman might want to help the allied cause, but she could just as easily betray them in a desperate bid to keep herself alive a bit longer. His words were meant to sound as innocuous as her greeting, and as though she’d sent some missive for entertainment at a time while she still could.
    “I asked for five
men
of different races. Not one man and one woman,” Aigean responded as she cast a disdainful gaze toward Lyra. “Some of my most discriminating clients desire men to service them.”
    He stepped closer to her. “Am I not the perfect, brawny, virile male for the job?”
Perfect, brawny, virile male
were the code words she’d asked to be used. If she didn’t respond appropriately, he’d know they were being monitored. If that was the case, Aigean would have to take the lead. He had no other instructions.
    Aigean glanced over her shoulder and nodded toward the pilot.
    The pilot let out a sigh of relief, and slumped into his seat as if he’d been frightened.
    Aigean faced them again and spoke more candidly.