Polaris Rising (Consortium Rebellion, #1)(57)

“I’m not saying no. But you should think about it for a while longer. I have a contact on this planet who could likely whisk you away to safety.” A brilliant idea occurred. “In fact, why don’t you come to dinner with us?”

“I don’t—”

“No, this is perfect. You can meet Rhys and see if he offers a safer alternative to traveling with me. I don’t want you to feel trapped into this decision.”

Veronica raised an eyebrow with a cool look, and she was once again the capable businesswoman, leaving the scared mother behind. “This is not a decision I made lightly,” she said. “I had planned to take this route as soon as I agreed to help you.”

“Just because you planned it doesn’t mean you won’t feel trapped,” I said gently. “I know what I’m talking about. Just come to dinner and see if Rhys can help. You don’t have to agree to anything or even tell him who you are.”

“Very well, I will attend. What should I wear?”

She had on dark pants and a pretty green blouse. “Your current outfit is perfect. I already told Rhys I’d be wearing this,” I said, indicating my clothes. I stood. “We leave at seven.”





Chapter 16




I messaged Rhys that we’d have an extra for dinner from one of my burner accounts, then made my way to the mess hall. I almost stopped short at the door when I saw Marcus sitting inside, but then I remembered this was my ship, dammit. I gave him a shallow nod of acknowledgment then made my way to the food synth. I didn’t feel up to real cooking, even if we had the ingredients.

The synthesizer could produce just about any food under the sun. I punched in an order for grilled cheese and french fries with a glass of sweet iced coffee—comfort food at its best. My stomach rumbled at the thought.

A small rectangular box, the food synth ran off the ship’s power and converted energy into matter. Another, larger synthesizer should be somewhere down in the maintenance area to produce spare parts for the ship or anything else we might need. Synth technology and formulas were both strictly controlled by the Consortium.

A happy ding announced my food was ready. I opened the door and pulled out a perfectly toasted sandwich and crispy fries. Simple foods almost always came out perfect. Complicated foods were trickier because there were a limited number of formulas available and everyone expected a slightly different taste. Many people raised on freshly prepared food thought the synth food tasted off.

I pulled my food and drink from the synth then ran into another problem—where to sit. Loch sat at the first table facing the door. Sitting at the second table would put me behind him and out of his view, but it also reeked of cowardice.

Before I could decide, Loch pushed out the chair next to him and tilted his head in invitation. I sat, hyperaware of him next to me. He shifted in his seat, and I snuck a glance. He stared at the table as if it held all of life’s answers.

I ignored him and dove into the carb-laden goodness on my plate. I promised myself I’d be healthy tomorrow.

After a few minutes, he broke the silence. “Rhys and I have known each other for nearly a decade, but it’s not my story to tell. If you want to know how, you’ll have to ask him.”

Some of my anger drained away. “Okay,” I said slowly, “why not just say that before?”

Loch ran his hands over his shaved head with a frustrated noise. “Rhys knows me well enough to get under my skin, and he loves meddling. I lost my temper with you, when he was the one who pushed me to the edge.”

I made a noncommittal sound. I could feel the heat of his gaze but I steadily finished my food. When I placed my napkin on my plate, Loch turned toward me. He cupped my jaw and turned my head so he could meet my eyes.

“I was a jerk,” he murmured. “I saw you retreat behind your mask, and I didn’t like knowing that I was the cause of it. I’m sorry.”

I’d never been one to hold grudges, so the last of my anger dissolved with his apology. His thumb traced a blazing path across my lips. Heat spiraled through my system. The man was dangerously attractive, especially when he wholly focused on me.

“Rhys and I are just friends,” I said. “That’s all we’ve ever been. But even if that wasn’t the case, your behavior was unacceptable. You were a jerk. And for what? Because I asked a question that didn’t have an easy answer?”

Loch growled and dropped his hand. “Because I didn’t want to admit I was jealous.” His eyes flashed in defiance, as if he expected me to throw the words back in his face.

Now we were getting somewhere. Jealousy hinted at a depth of feeling I hadn’t been sure he had. And if he got to be jealous, then I ought to be able to stake a claim as well. A tiny voice at the back of my mind screamed a warning, afraid I was getting in too deep, but I reminded myself that he would be gone tomorrow. One day of possibilities was safe enough—this would not be a repeat of my first season.

“You have no reason to be jealous,” I said as I pivoted toward him and leaned in.

I gave him plenty of time to back away, but he held his ground, his gaze hot. I took that as permission and closed the gap, ghosting my lips across his in a featherlight caress. Sparks of lust shivered along my nerves. I pressed deeper, sucking on his bottom lip, then I slid my tongue into the heat of his mouth.