Loving a Stranger Read online

  Heedless of how strange he must look, he stood perfectly still with his eyes closed tight. Mentally, he made himself as small as possible, not even daring to breathe. If Harryx went back to sleep—back to his coma—on his own, all would be well. But if he sensed Reeve’s presence in his mind it would doubtless rouse him and from that moment on, every second spent in the Hascion’s mind would be a constant struggle.

  There was another questioning mental noise and then a feeling like a sleeper roused momentarily from slumber rolling over and going back to sleep. Then…quiet.

  Reeve took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Goddess, that had been too fucking close for comfort! He became aware that the guard was staring at him uneasily, a look of discomfort and uncertainty on his lumpy face.

  “Uh, Arch-General Parokk?” he asked. “Are you feeling well?”

  “Just fine. I had a…a momentary headache,” Reeve said quickly.

  “Oh, of course.” The guard nodded sympathetically. “I did hear you took quiet a nasty blow to the head.”

  “Yes, well—I’m fine now.” Reeve nodded back and strode through the hole in the wall, which promptly melted back to a solid state after he went through it.

  All right, he was in. Now where was the wormhole tech? He stopped for a moment and looked around.

  The headquarters of the Inner Circle was remarkably nondescript. There was a rich maroon carpet on the floor and matching maroon dots and swirls on the cream-colored walls, as though whoever had decorated the building wanted everything to match. There were a few plain wooden doors leading into offices where people appeared to be busy speaking in hushed voices or working with computer-type equipment.

  Unfortunately what he didn’t see was a door marked “Top Secret” or “Wormhole Development—Keep Out.”

  Not that he’d expected such obvious markers but still, it would have been nice to have something to go on.

  He didn’t like to try accessing Harryx’s memory banks again so soon after the near-waking so Reeve simply strolled down the corridors, chin up and chest out, trying to look supremely confident. Most of the time, he’d found, when you acted like you belonged someplace, nobody questioned you. It was when you started hiding in the shadows and skulking around corners that others got suspicious.

  He met several people who seemed to know Harryx as he wandered the corridors. Some exclaimed about his rapid recovery and some just nodded. Reeve kept his answers short and moved on as quickly as he could. From the limited information he could pick up from his host’s mind, it seemed that Harryx Parokk was a taciturn son-of-a-bitch so hopefully his terse exchanges with coworkers wouldn’t cause any suspicion.

  At last, after turning down an especially long and narrow hallway, he found a locked door with a sign which said,

  Authorized Personnel Only. All Others KEEP OUT.

  This has to be it, Reeve thought. The door didn’t just look right—it felt right. Somehow he knew that what he was seeking was directly behind it.

  The door wouldn’t give when he pulled the handle but then he noticed another retinal scanning aperture located at eye-height right beside it.

  Great—another retinal scan and his host had already nearly woken once. Would this set Harryx off—wake him from his coma for good? Reeve was afraid it would. Which meant he had to be ready to run into the forbidden area and trash the wormhole tech and research as fast as he could. If he gave Harryx a chance to get his bearings and start fighting, it would be much harder to finish his mission. It would be like trying to drive a car or fly a shuttle while the person in the passenger seat was attempting to beat you senseless with a club.

  Reeve was damn good at the ducking and dodging that was necessary to get things done within an unwilling host, but even he couldn’t stay inside a body that was determined to get rid of him forever. Okay, so he would have to make this quick.

  He was about to put his eye to the scanner when he suddenly thought of Nallah.

  In his mind’s eye he could see her as he had left her that morning—her golden eyes wide and one little hand pressed tentatively to her cheek, where he had kissed her. He’d told her he was sorry for hurting her—actually apologizing for all the horrible things Harryx had probably done—and practically promised she would never be hurt again.

  But what would happen once his host woke up? After Reeve had used his body to trash the Hascions’ most important research and tech, Harryx was going to be in a lot of trouble.

  Well, they’ll probably take him into custody then and lock him up, Reeve tried to tell himself. But he couldn’t stop the uneasy feeling growing inside him. What if Harryx wasn’t locked up? What if he got home to Nallah? He would be filled with rage and looking for someone to take it out on…

  Reeve knew the bastard hit her. Though he hadn’t been able to access any specific memories in his host’s data banks—maybe because he was entering the wrong search terms—he could tell just by Nallah’s reactions when he got too close to her or moved too suddenly. She acted like someone always expecting another beating—always waiting for the next blow to fall.

  Reeve was also pretty sure Harryx forced her in bed too. That whole Hascion custom of a wife submitting sexually to her husband every night had to be difficult for her. Even if Harryx was gentle—which Reeve doubted—she had no say in the matter. Nonconsensual sex, rough or not, equaled rape in Reeve’s view, though he doubted the Hascions saw it that way.

  That’s what you’ll be leaving her to, whispered a little voice in the back of his head. An angry, frustrated male who’s looking to take out his rage on someone. Beatings and rape—that will be the outcome if you successfully complete this mission and abandon Nallah to the tender mercies of her husband. Is that what you really want to do?

  He thought again of her warm golden eyes, like pools of sunshine, of her soft, tentative way of speaking and her river of gold and silver hair. It wasn’t just her beauty that drew him—there was also an almost indefinable quality about the little female that seemed to squeeze at his heart. There was a hidden strength in her—there had to be in order for her to have endured marriage to Harryx. It drew Reeve to her—made him long to get to know her better—and to protect her from her asshole of a husband.

  I can’t just leave her, he thought, remembering her small, curvy body revealed in the diaphanous sex-garment the night before. He’s so much bigger than she is. He’ll kill her if he gets really angry and I doubt anyone on this fucking planet would give a damn if he did. I can’t just—

  “Arch-General Parokk—what are you doing by the Temporal Displacement Research lab?”

  The voice behind him startled him and Reeve jerked up and turned around quickly to find himself facing a tall, older male with a harsh frown on his wrinkled face.

  “Ah…” He began. “Excuse me, uh…”

  Grand General Viceroy, supplied the memory banks of Harryx’s mind, helpful for once. Immediate superior.

  Which meant he was Harryx’s boss. Great.

  “Excuse me, Grand General Viceroy,” Reeve continued as smoothly as he could. “But since I’ve recovered from my illness, I wanted to get to know and understand the operations going on here more thoroughly.”

  The Grand General frowned.

  “You do? But why do you care about wormhole generation, Arch-General Parokk? You’re in charge of troop movement and strategy—not technology.”

  “Ah well…troop movement, as you said,” Reeve said, improvising. “That’s why I’m interested. If my troops are going to be moving through those wormholes, I need to know more about them.” He lifted his chin, frowning. “I’m not risking my men’s lives until I know exactly what they’re facing. I won’t send them someplace I wouldn’t go myself.”

  “Well…” The frown cleared from the Grand General’s seamed face. “That is a most admirable sentiment, Parokk. And one I happen to agree with. Very well—I’ll arrange to have your retinal signature added to the approved list on the Temporal Displacement door at the