Page 18 of Willow and the Wraith

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

He grunted, a sound she was learning to interpret as grudging approval.

“The old male has a knack for machines.”

“Malacar,” she corrected gently. “His name is Malacar.”

Amusement flashed in Wraith’s eyes before he nodded again and turned to leave.

“Wait,” she said, surprising herself. He paused, his broad shoulders tense. “I was wondering if you could help me with this passage. I’m not sure I’m interpreting the program correctly.”

He turned to face her, his expression unreadable. She expected him to refuse and told herself that it was probably for the best. Instead he gave an almost imperceptible nod.

As he settled on the banquette next to her, his big frame dwarfing the small seating area, his delicious spicy scent surrounded her and her traitorous body responded. She did her best to ignore it and tapped the screen, scrolling to the section of the text she didn’t understand.

“The translator doesn’t account for idiomatic phrases,” he explained, his voice low and close to her ear. Her pulse raced as she forced her eyes to focus on the words on the screen.

“What does this mean?” she asked, pointing to a phrase.

She could feel the heat of his body, his scent wrapping around her. It was all she could do to keep her breathing steady and ignore the pounding of her heart.

“It means to destroy something.” He gestured to the screen. “Read the context and it will make sense.”

She started to reply, but the words caught in her throat as he shifted slightly and his knee brushed hers. Heat flared through her, and even though the sensible voice in her head was screaming a warning, she didn’t pull away.

His breath drifted across her neck, the barest hint of contact, and she shuddered, the datapad slipping from her hands. When she reached for it, her movements jerky and awkward, her fingers grazed his thigh. His muscles tightened beneath her touch.

“Willow -”

His eyes burned into hers for a moment, and then he was gone. He reached the door of the lounge before she even processed the fact that he’d moved, his face set in its usual cold mask.

“I have work to do.”

She sagged back against the seat as he left the room. Her entire body ached with need, her mind reeling. How did he have this effect on her? She was a grown woman, not some teenage girl consumed with lust. Not that she’d been a lustful teenager either. Her fantasies were safely confined to boy band singers. Nothing about her attraction to Wraith felt safe.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. She knew he was dangerous, and she suspected that the heat between them could consume her if she wasn’t careful, but despite that, there was something about him that made her feel as if she could trust him. That made her feel safe.

She sighed, forcing herself to rise and return the datapad to its charging station, uneasily aware of the heat still simmering in her veins. Alien pheromones, she reminded herself. That had to be it.

He didn’t reappear for the rest of the day. Each time she passed through the corridor, she looked up and saw him bent over the console. Was he trying to avoid her by focusing so intently? By the time evening came he’d been in there for hours. She couldn’t stand it anymore and went to join him, hovering uncertainly at the entrance to the cockpit. He didn’t look up, but she was sure he knew she was there.

She followed his gaze to the wide screen in front of him, a twisted maze of dots and lines.

“That looks complicated,” she said quietly.

For a moment she thought he wouldn’t respond, but he eventually answered her.

“I’m overlaying records, trying to locate other possible hubs for the slaving operation.”

His voice was hoarse, his shoulders tense, and she frowned at him.

“You’ve been at this for hours. Wouldn’t you like to take a break?”

He shook his head, not looking up.

“No time. I have a job to do.”

She bit her lip, but didn’t bother trying to argue. Instead she returned to the galley and made a pot of the tea she’d seen him drinking, pouring it into a thermal mug. She returned to the cockpit with the mug, setting it down next to him.

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