Starflight (Starflight, #1)(63)



She detected a rustle of fabric. “A blanket?” she asked, afraid to hope.

“More or less.” He joined her and held up a strip of foil-like cloth the approximate size of a bath towel. “Hope you don’t mind sharing.”

“Will that thing cover both of us?”

“Only one way to find out,” he said, and started glancing around at the floor. “Where do you want to sleep?”

A new shiver rolled over her, one that had nothing to do with the temperature. When she’d resolved to spend the night here, it hadn’t occurred to her that she and Doran would need to huddle for warmth.

When she didn’t answer, he asked, “We’re staying till morning, right?”

Clearing her throat, she nodded and pointed at the spot beside her. “We’ll camp here, so we can keep an eye out for trouble.”

If he felt the same nervous tingling at the prospect of sleeping beside her, he didn’t let it show. He unbuckled his belt—just for comfort, she hoped—then lay on his side with his back pressed to the cave wall and one arm curled beneath his head like a pillow. By way of invitation, he extended his other arm to her.

Solara reminded herself that this was no big deal. People shared body heat all the time in emergency situations. But despite all her encouraging self-talk, she curled onto her side and barely touched him. Doran fixed that problem by wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her backward until they nested together like two spoons in a drawer.

Solara’s breath hitched while her skin buzzed with awareness. Every inch of him was molded to her, so hot that she doubted they’d need the blanket at all. His heart beat against her shoulder in a strong, steady thump. If he could feel hers, he would know it was trying to pound its way out of her chest.

He spread the meager blanket over their joined bodies and then slid his arm beneath, where he settled it squarely under her breasts and hugged her even closer. With his chin resting atop her head, he asked, “Better?”

She gulped.

This was so much better…or worse, depending on whether she wanted to get any actual rest tonight. With all the atoms in her body pinging against one another in a manic dance, sleep wasn’t going to happen. She wished she were as unaffected by his touch as she pretended to be. As she lay beneath the glamour of a thousand twinkling stars, she wondered if Doran felt the same magnetism.

“If you’re still cold,” he murmured, his warm breath stirring her hair, “we could take off our shirts and try this skin-to-skin.”

Her whole body flashed hot before she realized he was joking. She delivered a light elbow to the belly and told him, “Keep dreaming.”

“Just trying to be helpful.”

“You’re such a gentleman.”

His thumb brushed the base of her rib cage, forcing her to release a shamefully loud sigh. “See?” he said. “At least I’m good for something.” Then he felt the need to add, “I’ve been told my body’s a furnace.”

And just like that, the spell broke.

Because with those words came a painful reminder that she wasn’t the first girl Doran Spaulding had held like this, and she wouldn’t be the last. Even if he felt the same stirrings of attraction that she did, where could it possibly lead? He would forget her as soon as he returned to his life on Earth and all the pink-haired princesses waiting for him. She and Doran were cut from different cloth. They were friends now, but only by circumstance.

She needed to remember that.

“Go to sleep,” she said, and pushed against his arm until he loosened his grip. She required body heat, not comfort. “I’ll take first watch.”

“Okay.” He didn’t seem to notice the shift in her mood. After slinging his arm loosely over her hip, he settled in and exhaled, long and slow. A few minutes passed in silence, and just when she thought he’d drifted off, he said, “One more thing.”

“What?”

“Since we’re stuck together for a while longer, I think we should reevaluate our ground rules.”

She hadn’t been expecting that. Intrigued, she cocked an ear toward him. “Does this mean I get my stunner back?”

“As long as you promise not to use it on me.”

“Agreed.”

“And second,” he said, “nobody sleeps on the bedroom floor. That’s nonnegotiable. I won’t camp down there again, and I’m tired of feeling guilty because I’m comfortable and you’re not. There’s plenty of room on the mattress, and I won’t try anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Solara scoffed. But on the inside, she fought to push down the annoyingly persistent tingles that reappeared behind her belly button. “I know where to put my knee if you get too close.”

From behind her, his hips withdrew an inch. “So we don’t have a problem?”

“If anyone will have a problem sharing the bed, it won’t be me,” she told him. “You’ll stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine.” It sounded so simple, yet even as she spoke the words, she caught herself nestling against his body.

Solara forced her eyes shut, hoping she hadn’t made herself a liar.





They returned to the Banshee early the next evening and told the crew everything that had happened. Solara brushed off their encounter with the Enforcers as a freak coincidence, all the while seething in rage every time her gaze landed on Kane. Recounting the story made her realize even more clearly the danger he’d put them in, and she couldn’t wait to expose him for the traitor he was.

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