Free Janaya by Shelley Munro Page A

take care of themselves. Once they’d repaired the ship, they could move on and leave this planet. Then maybe Luke would find the peace he desired.
    “I insist you talk to me now,” Mrs. Bates said, her chins wobbling in emphasis. “Or else I’ll ring the Holmes television show. They’ll talk to me.”
    “Wait in the interview office,” Luke said, struggling for patience. No mistaking the threat from Mrs. Bates. Her face glowed with righteous indignation as she marched past him into the small interview room. She’d relish the spotlight if Mr. Holmes came to interview her for the Holmes Show . God, what a mess. The last thing he wanted was the television media ferreting around in Sloan. “Mrs. Bates, please take a seat. I won’t be long.”
    A roar of protest filled the room. The crowd surged forward, waving fists and shouting over the top of each other. Despite the vehement objections, Luke herded Hinekiri and Janaya past the reception desk into his office. He shut the door and leaned against it as if to keep the protesters at bay.
    “What parts do you need? Have you got a list?” Luke avoided looking at Janaya but temptation clawed at him anyway. A deep breath didn’t ease the ache in his balls. Hell. He had to get a grip. This whole situation would escalate way out of control if he wasn’t careful. Luke pushed away the Technicolor scenes of Janaya that played through his head, replacing them with the worst passion-killer he could think of—Mrs. Bates and Marcie Montgomery with him in a threesome. His gut bucked in horror as invisible cold fingers had his cock in full retreat.
    “Luke? What’s wrong?” Janaya tugged on his shirtsleeve. “You’ve gone quite green.”
    “A threesome with Mrs. Bates and Marcie Montgomery will do that to a man,” he said.
    “Huh?”
    In the interest of self-preservation, Luke edged away. He tried. He really tried but his gaze became entangled with Janaya’s breasts. He knew her skin was silky soft and her coral nipples tasted of exotic spices. “Breasts,” he said, his eyes lingering on her cleavage. “We were talking about bre—” Luke’s face heated while a distinct pain seared through his chest. Brain. Kick-start. “Ah…parts for your ship.”
    Hinekiri’s brows arched and her lips twitched. “I can give you a verbal list. Now let me see.” A grin quivered across her lips. “We need a breastplate,” she chirped.
    Janaya scowled at her aunt. “He means parts for the ship.”
    “Did you?” Hinekiri asked. “I could have sworn—”
    “Just give me a list of parts.” Luke glared at Hinekiri too. He liked a sense of humor as much as the next guy but not at his expense. And not when he needed to deal with the press. “I don’t have time for this.”
    He stomped over to his desk and yanked open the top right drawer. Damn, his head throbbed. His whole body ached, come to that. Felt like he’d fallen down a mountain backward. Feeling the weight of a stare, he looked up from his search for a painkiller. Janaya gave him a tentative smile and the ache changed. It dived south, straight to his dick.
    The door burst open. Luke’s father strode into the office. The roar of the crowd in the outer office followed and only receded when he slammed the door.
    “Bad out there,” his father said, shaking his grizzled head. “There were so many people out at the crop circles that the Sloan Woman’s Division has set up a cake stall. And Ted Morrison is selling entrance tickets at his gate.”
    “That’s the least of our problems.” Luke rummaged for the painkillers again. When he found a sheet of tabs, he popped two and swallowed them down dry. “Okay. Dad, can you take Janaya and Hinekiri to Robbie’s car parts? I have to see Mrs. Bates.”
    “Janaya will stay with you,” Hinekiri said in a firm tone. She grasped his father’s arm and looked up at him through a flutter of eyelashes. “Richard and I can handle the shopping.”
    Luke groaned inwardly. He