He picked up the frame and studied the image. An older man stood to one side, his arm around a smiling Honor. On her other side were two tall men with short hair and rugged faces. The resemblance between them all was remarkable.
“Your family?”
“Yes.” She snatched the frame and set it down. “My father and brothers. They’re all soldiers in the GSS—Galactic Security Services.”
Colm tilted his head. “Why are you not part of this GSS?”
“My father asks me that every time I speak to him.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sure you won’t understand, but I don’t like to kill. I wanted to use my skills to protect, plus I love history, so working security for the Institute suits me far better than the military.”
Colm paused for a moment. “That makes perfect sense.”
Her mouth opened, closed. “No comment on me being too soft? Not having a killer instinct?”
He guessed she’d heard those accusations before. He lowered his voice. “Honor, I saw you use that sword and I saw you fight the raiders. I think your instincts, killer or not, are fine.”
She stared at him. “You just keep surprising and confusing me, warrior.”
He smiled. “Good.” He was going to taste Honor Brandall before she left his world, his own control issues be damned. “I have something for you.”
“Oh?”
“A gift.” He held out the package he’d had in his bag.
She eyed it like it might bite her.
“Does no one give you gifts?”
“No one I work with.”
She was a prickly thing. “It is Markarian tradition for leaders from different clans to offer a gift at the beginning of a working alliance.”
“Oh.” She took it and opened the thin, paper wrapping. Her eyes widened. “Oh!”
The gauntlets were smaller versions of the ones she’d admired at the arena. He’d paid a small fortune for the artisan to finish them quickly. It meant they weren’t richly decorated, just a few swirling engravings in the deep-brown leather. But Colm decided they suited Honor better that way.
She stroked them, a look of want on her face, and it went straight to Colm’s cock. He shifted.
She looked up. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“It is tradition on Markaria to seal a working deal with a kiss.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Markarian warriors kiss when they work together?”
“No. They do a warrior’s shake, but since you have not passed the Way of the Warrior, you are not considered a warrior.” He smiled as she scowled. “No matter how well you can swing a sword or staff.”
“Fine.” She went up on her toes, pressing one hand to his chest.
He felt the burn of that touch, felt the sweet warmth of her. She pressed her lips to his. One fleeting brush. Then she pulled back.
He saw the heat flickering in her eyes. “Kiss me again, Honor.”
“I shouldn’t. I think you’re dangerous. You warriors should come with a warning.”
“You aren’t a coward. What if I promise to keep my hands at my sides?”
“No.”
“Kiss me,” he coaxed. “One more time.”
She was still and silent, her gaze on his. Then slowly, so incredibly slowly, she leaned forward.
She nipped at his bottom lip, then deepened the kiss.
Colm groaned. She did, too, and suddenly the kiss turned into something wild and out of control. Colm’s nails bit into his skin as he fought not to break his word and grab her.
She threw her arms around his neck, her body plastered to his. She made hungry sounds, and Colm poured his frustration and desire into the kiss.
“Agent Brandall, prep for take-off is going well. Twenty minutes.”
The voice made them jerk apart. The sound was coming from the small badge attached to Honor’s heaving chest.
She stepped back and he watched as her face turned serious. She touched the badge. “Thank you, Wu. We’ll be there shortly.” She looked back at Colm. “Thank you for these.” She set the gauntlets on her bed. “Now, let me quickly show you the rest of the ship and we’ll get up to the cockpit for take-off.”
Chapter Six
Honor tried to calm the trembling, hungry feeling in her belly.
A hunger for one thing.
One man.
Colm strode beside her, taking up most of the corridor. He was looking around, absorbing everything about the ship.
She really wished he’d been the all brawn-no brains warrior she’d assumed when she’d first arrived on Markaria. She thought of the gauntlets in her cabin. He was proving to have far more depth, and cunning, than she’d given him credit for.
“Here’s the ship’s gym. I know our scanning trip won’t be long, but you’re welcome to use it if you wish.”