Blood Will Tell by Christine Pope Page A

retort, some insult, anything —but he was too fast for her. Before a word could escape her lips, his mouth was on hers, and he pulled her against him, holding her so tightly there was no hope of escape. There was nothing except the feel of his mouth touching her mouth, the sensation of his body pressed up against hers, the strange roaring in her ears as she realized what was happening.
    It wasn’t her first kiss. No, she had given that up years ago, as so many other girls in Aldis Nova had—out near the lean-to behind Alt the mechanic’s shop in a place that afforded shelter both from prying eyes and the glare of Iradia’s sun. The boy had been in her class and had been called Drix, and that was all she remembered of him. At any rate, that kiss compared to this one roughly the same way Thorn’s small ship compared to a Quasar-class troop ship. Drix, she recalled, hadn’t seem to know what he was doing at all, whereas Eryk Thorn obviously did. He seemed to fill her universe, the taste of him, the clean smell of his sweat, the slight rasp of his unshaven cheek against her skin, and she knew she was lost. She could no more tear herself from his grasp than a starship could free itself from the gravitational pull of a black hole.
    Finally, though, he lifted his mouth from hers, although he still held her closely, as if he were afraid she would turn and bolt if he let her go completely. He watched her, even as she stared back up at him, into those dark eyes that seemed black as the depths of space, the thin-lipped mouth that just seconds ago had been pressed so firmly against hers.
    Miala took a breath, then another. It required a conscious effort, as if somehow the autonomous systems regulating her heartbeat and breathing had somehow been disrupted by that kiss.
    “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Thorn said at last.
    Again she could feel her face flush, but Miala also was strangely triumphant. Eryk Thorn had wanted to kiss her , of all people. She wondered what sort of exotic women he had known across the galaxy, then clamped down on that thought. His past didn’t matter. What mattered was that he had wanted her, here and now.
    “So have I,” she whispered, and he smiled.
    “I could tell,” he replied.
    So much for all her feeble attempts at trying to conceal her feelings. Still, what did it matter now? He had wanted the same thing, after all.
    She held herself in the encircling strength of his arms, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest against hers. How odd that he should seem so calm, while her own heart pounded against her ribcage and each breath felt shaky and jagged.
    He watched her for a few seconds, and then she could see him bending down to kiss her once again. She raised her lips to his, waiting for that electric moment when they touched.
    It never came. Instead Miala heard the familiar shrilling of the perimeter alarm, and Thorn stepped away from her immediately.
    “Darlester,” he said, “has impeccable timing...”

VII

    Thorn turned immediately and began moving toward the steps while Miala hurried after him, still not completely comprehending. “How do you know it’s Darlester?”
    “I don’t. But it seems like his style. Probably took him a few days to gather all the necessary reinforcements.”
    They both ran up the stairs, Miala trailing in Eryk Thorn’s purposeful wake. She knew where he was heading, of course—back to the security station. How unfair that Rafe Darlester—or whoever the new intruders turned out to be—should show up when she and Thorn were so close to loading all the treasure and getting off Iradia forever.
    And when you were so close to getting kissed again , she thought, but she refused to dwell on that. There was a time and a place for everything, after all, and this definitely was not the time to be thinking of anything quite so frivolous—even though she fancied she could still feel the touch of his lips against hers, the pressure of his hands