Twice to the Stars

Twice to the Stars Alexis Reed

As the only woman on board the pioneer-class galactic vessel The Adamant, Chief Engineer Samantha Hartland knows better than to let any man into her bed—or her heart. Unfortunately, she doesn’t want just any. One. Man. Blake and Kane Damsen, identical twins and fellow officers, haunt her most vivid erotic dreams. Together. Blake and Kane have kept their passion for the green-eyed mistress of engineering a secret for two years. Barely. But when one of the crew members reveals he’s willing to kill to get Samantha’s attention, she turns to the twins for help. She gets a lot more than that in the bargain.

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

www.ellorascave.com

Twice to the Stars ISBN 9781419929496 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Twice to the Stars Copyright © 2011 Alexis Reed Edited by Jillian Bell Cover art by Darrell King Electronic book publication April 2011 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

TWICE TO THE STARS Alexis Reed

Twice to the Stars

Chapter One Samantha zipped up the front of her black, station-issue uniform and glanced hurriedly in the mirror, tying her long auburn hair into a hasty knot. There were dark circles under her bloodshot eyes from the double shift she’d pulled in Engineering the night before. By tonight, they would be worse. Eight more hours of trying to save her dying engine, punctuated at thirteen hundred hours by Jason’s funeral service. Her jaw tightened as her mind drifted to the young cadet, barely twenty years old, who’d been killed in the engine accident. Stop it. Stop it now. She shook her head hard. That was all she needed, another onslaught of tears. She’d be both late and bedraggled, neither of which made her appear the picture of competence her team needed to see right now. Turning from the mirror, Samantha pulled the sheets taut on her bunk and surveyed her small, neat quarters. They weren’t the biggest on the ship, but they were nicer than most of the men’s bunks—a concession the captain made for the ship’s only female. The Adamant was a pioneer-class bird, where crews were almost exclusively male. She just happened to love old engines and “Twyla” as they called her, because she was in her twilight years, was a beautiful artifact from the early years of spin-drive manufacturing. Twyla was dying, ruined by the same explosion that had killed Jason. She just had to keep Twyla going until twenty hundred hours tomorrow, when the new drive arrived on the The Stronghold. Thankfully, life support wasn’t threatened by the damage, but The Adamant would be adrift without Twyla. Hold on just a little longer, old lady. Making a deliberate sweep of her quarters with her gaze, she noticed two small, wireless earbuds lying innocently on her dresser, waiting to be forgotten. Sweeping them up with an annoyed grunt, she tucked them in her breast pocket and knelt to lace

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up her boots, trying very hard not to think of what the hell else could go wrong between now and twenty hundred hours tomorrow. Just a little longer, Twyla… She didn’t give herself any more time to think. The heels of her boots rang hollowly on the hard floor as she strode to her door and released the lock. As her door slid back into the panel, a small object that had been wedged into the corner clattered to the floor. She knelt reflexively to examine it, half fearing an explosive device and rolling her eyes at her own paranoia. For God’s sake, it was an accident. You just haven’t figured out how it happened yet. No explosive. Just a vidcard, she realized, turning it over in her hand and frowning. Why use a vidcard for a message and not the network? Unless the sender wanted privacy. Damn. She hated mysteries and she didn’t have time to watch the vid right now. A singular scent—sandalwood—stole into her awareness and she turned, smiling up at the tall, broad-shouldered form of Kane Damsen as he strode toward her. His iceblue eyes met hers and she suppressed a shiver as a tingle of awareness bloomed low in her belly. “Kane.” Her greeting sounded low, almost sultry, to her ears. Embarrassed heat rushed to her face but he appeared not to notice. Instead he grinned and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Guilty.” He extended a hand and she took it, allowing him to help her to her feet. “How is it that you know me from Blake? Nobody else on the ship does,” he asked, his tone a mixture of curiosity and mischief. His voice stroked her skin like so much black satin and Samantha had to bite back a goofy, love-struck smile. She hesitated, her heart skipping a beat. Truth be told, she’d know the Damsen twins from one another in a snowstorm in the dark. She’d been absolutely smitten with both of them, and just as determined to hide it, since launch day

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two years ago. Being Chief Engineer had its price. Hers, she figured, was not jumping the bones of the two most beautiful men she’d ever laid eyes on. He held her hand for a split second longer than was strictly necessary and she was very aware of his long fingers wrapped around her wrist. Then he slid his hand from hers, his thumb trailing—was he doing that on purpose?—along the underside of her wrist, completely undoing her composure. Straightening her spine, Samantha reached desperately for a detached, professional demeanor. He’d asked her something. What had it been? Oh yes. “Your eyes, of course. His are gray,” she said rapidly, almost stumbling over her words. Strictly speaking, she supposed, Kane’s twin had blue eyes. But Blake’s were just a shade closer to gray. It made his gaze just a little harder, a little darker than Kane’s, in keeping with the differences in their personalities. One thing she knew though—both men looked at her with the same smoky desire that made her ache in places she’d rather not think about while in uniform. What was worse, her responses to Blake and Kane were as identical as the other crew members thought the twins were. Ménage relationships weren’t unheard of on board ships, where the men often outnumbered the women by as much as three-to-one. She had to admit, the Damsen twins made the idea of a triad a deliciously appealing fantasy. But Samantha’s own upbringing had involved only two parents and her memories of the screaming chaos that had been her home had not left her optimistic about commitment to one man, let alone two. She’d worked very hard to keep her desire confined to the dreams that woke her, wet and panting for the twins, on an all too regular basis. But it was more than her own fears of repeating her parents’ mistakes that kept her from exploring the heated promises she saw in the twins’ eyes—it was her job and this ship. As Chief Engineer and the only female on board a ship bound for a distant planet, her presence already created tension among the men. There was no way she’d be sharing anybody’s bed, let alone those of two men, both ranking officers. It was so

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unfair, she thought, regarding Kane’s dear, crooked smile. She’d met the perfect man, and there were two of him. And they were both strictly off-limits.

Kane felt rather than saw Samantha’s shiver as he stroked his thumb down the inside of her wrist—just once, just enough to throw her off balance. She was so damn cute when she lost her composure. Her dark red hair was knotted loosely at the nape of her neck. He wondered for the thirteen trillionth time what it would look like tumbling down over her creamy shoulders. Or falling in waves down her bare, arched back, swaying like silk as she rode his brother’s cock. Then his. Then… Kane bit back a groan at the familiar strained, heavy sensation in his groin. Thank God for codpieces. And damn them to hell. They were fucking uncomfortable with a hard-on. Think I like it any better? Blake asked through their mental connection. Let me guess. You’re messing with her mind again. I told you to block me when you do that. Kane almost laughed at the pained note in his brother’s voice. His brother, the practical officer and helmsman. If you weren’t stuck on the bridge all day, you’d follow her everywhere she went and you know it. Her ass is a Blake magnet, Kane replied. And her long red hair is a Kane magnet. Dude, you have issues. You get a boner just thinking about that hair. You don’t? Kane asked incredulously. The brothers had known since they were teenagers that they’d never have a normal love life. Their psychic connection was too strong for them to be with different women. Over the years, they’d learned to block each other out when they needed to, but strong emotions and urges made complete emotional shielding almost impossible. Dating separate women proved to be torturous for both of them. Kane had even screamed Blake’s girlfriend’s name once during sex with his own partner, which had pretty much sealed it. They would have to learn to share.

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At the Academy, they’d met a few adventurous women willing—some even eager—to be shared, but it hadn’t been for more than a few nights. To those women, the twins had been a novelty, nothing more. He couldn’t blame them. Ménage sex was one thing but a committed ménage relationship, particularly with men as demanding as he and his brother, was another. It would take a special kind of woman to love him and his brother equally, especially after she learned that they shared her with their minds as well as their bodies. Their psychic connection was one thing Blake and Kane had always kept to themselves—for practical reasons. It wasn’t something you could put on a résumé. Finding a woman who could accept them for what they were, who could love them equally—that would be a miracle. At Blake’s insistence, they had waited two years to approach Samantha, not wanting to ruin something that seemed so promising and not wanting to tip the delicate hormonal balance on board The Adamant. With the end of the voyage only six months away, Kane’s impatience was growing. What if some other crew member—Langley in Engineering, for instance—took her first? The idea of her with her second-in-command made him burn with jealousy. She isn’t ours yet. Blake’s voice interrupted his thoughts. Letting his gaze sweep possessively over Samantha’s form, Kane promised silently, She will be. Blake, he reflected, had some distance from her, sitting at the helm all day. It was easy for him to sit up there, completely confident that Samantha would be theirs once they reached the Outer Line planets. Kane wasn’t so sure and he sure as hell wasn’t going to lose her to complacency. Bullshit it’s easy for me to sit up here alone, Blake responded to his train of thought. I see her every morning, just like you. She’s nervous, dickhead, and if we push it, we’ll lose her. She wasn’t there this morning, Kane said, his thoughts shifting to concern. The three of them almost always shared a table at breakfast. He frowned. Samantha smiled up at him and he noticed how pink her cheeks were, how dark her beautiful green eyes. He resisted the urge to brush his thumb across what he 9

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guessed were tear tracks on her cheeks. Of course. The accident in the engine room. He felt like smacking his forehead. She’d taken it very personally. She’s been crying, he told Blake. His brother’s concern was a dark well in his mind. Jason? The young crewman had been a kind, gentle soul and good friends with Samantha. Probably, Kane answered. Then, on sudden impulse, he added, I’m asking her to dinner. She’s going to feel like crap after the funeral. As an afterthought, he clarified, Dinner at our place. There was a brief pause as Kane quickly censored the hundred or so images of her, naked and wet for them, that bustled into his consciousness. Samantha had never been to their quarters. Who knew if she’d say yes? But oh God, if she did… Concern for her state of mind and fear of losing her warred with those images in his head. A million possible answers to the all-important question—what did she look like in the throes of orgasm? Despite his worry, he grinned inwardly, knowing the effect his thoughts would have on his brother’s crumbling reservations about approaching her. Oh, for chrissake, you’ll kill us both. Just go for it, Blake replied. But in case you’re thinking of using this to seduce her, I’m not in. Kane suppressed a snort. Liar, he said loftily, then added, you’d be in balls-deep if she said yes, no matter the circumstance. But I’ll try to be a…gentleman. Samantha coughed awkwardly and Kane realized he’d been staring off into the distance, as was his habit when talking with Blake. “Sorry,” he said aloud, “woolgathering.” “You do that a lot around me,” she said lightly. They walked together down the corridor, Samantha lengthening her strides to match his. “Sorry,” he repeated. “It’s a bad habit.” She sighed and turned to look at him with a troubled vulnerability he knew she wouldn’t have shown any other crewman. Except Blake. A wave of possessiveness washed over him.

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“What’s wrong, beautiful?” Kane asked. She looked exhausted, almost frail. Her lips curved into a smile, an attempt to look chipper that was totally ruined by the dark rings under her eyes. He hadn’t realized she was so burned-out. All the jokes about sex and chivalry went out of his mind. Now he just wanted to fix it for her. He had the sudden urge to order her to go back to her quarters and rest, but he knew how important it was that she get to the engine room. Technically, only Blake could give her direct orders, but if he spoke with great authority… She’d probably laugh at him. “I’m just tired,” she said, an edge of hoarseness in her voice, no doubt from shouting orders over the racket in the engine room. “I can’t wait until The Stronghold gets here and I can stop the engine triage on Twyla. If we have to go on like this much longer, I’m going to have you guys stick oars out the airlocks and paddle.” “Well, at least you have a backup plan,” he said drily, grinning. She laughed, lifting his spirits. “It’s good to hear you laugh,” he said gently. He ached to touch her. They stopped when they reached the Sound Room, where he spent his days unscrambling communications from distant ships and planets. Ignoring her small gasp of surprise, Kane urged her into the alcove and out of the foot traffic in the corridor, guiding her ever so lightly with his hand in the small of her back. When she turned to face him, he could see her nipples pearled under her uniform. Panic warred with indecision in her eyes, but she didn’t object to his touch. His chest tightened with anticipation. Small victories counted. She drew a small plastic square out of her pocket, holding it out for his examination. It was a vidcard. “Did you send me this?” she asked. He shook his head, genuinely puzzled. He hadn’t known they even had those things on board. “No,” he said, frowning at the small black square. “Who even uses vidcards anymore?” 11

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She shrugged and sighed. “It’s nothing important. I’ll figure it out.” She returned it to her pocket and met his gaze squarely with those lush-fern eyes. Kane considered pursuing the matter further but decided against it. He had more important things to attend to. Moving slowly, carefully gauging her reaction, he laid his palm on the wall next to her head, blocking her view of the corridor. Her eyes widened a fraction and her pupils dilated beautifully. Kane had to bite back a groan. She was so perfect. “Have dinner with us,” he said softly. She shivered under his gaze, her pink tongue flicking out to moisten her lips. “Ah…” she stammered, blushing an attractive rouge that had nothing to do with the redness he’d seen on her cheeks earlier. Her breath came soft and shallow. She looked like something small and wild, caught between desire and wariness, considering her options. He could have kissed her right there, everything and everyone else be damned. Oh God, don’t do that. I’ll run us into a planet, Blake interrupted. Later, when I’m not driving. Irritated at the interruption, it was a second before Kane realized she’d asked him something. “I’m sorry, what?” “The officers’ mess?” She’d decided, then. Score one for the Damsen twins. He suppressed a slow, predatory smile. She fidgeted with her watch. “I’ll meet you guys at twenty hundred hours?” The crew kept to a twenty-four hour Earth schedule. Time not marked by days and nights was unthinkable to creatures whose biology had evolved around sunrise and sunset. “No,” he said, moving his hand to her shoulder and leaning just a little closer, enough to make his intention clear. “In our quarters. We can cook a lot better than the ship’s generators, and you deserve it after the long hours you’ve spent keeping Twyla sputtering along.” She stared at him for a moment, her lips parted slightly in unconscious invitation. Kane crossed his fingers behind his back, hoping he wasn’t pushing her too far. He felt a little juvenile doing it, but it couldn’t hurt, right? 12

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She exhaled, recovered her composure and straightened. “Well, that isn’t much of an endorsement of your cooking skills,” she said with mock scorn, her eyes twinkling. He wondered if she had any idea how crazy she made him and Blake. “But it sounds wonderful,” she added, relenting. “What time?” Breaking into a broad smile he prayed wasn’t hopelessly goofy, he managed, “Nineteen hundred.” “I’ll be there,” she said jauntily. With that, she continued down the corridor. Just before she turned the corner, she turned and waved, smiling. Kane keyed in his code and stepped inside the Sound Room. When he heard the door close, shutting out all sound from the outside, he thrust his arms above his head. “Yesss!”

***** At eighteen thirty that evening, Samantha staggered into her quarters. It actually hadn’t been that bad today. Twyla was still limping, there was no denying that. But she was limping along steadily and Samantha had restored the water recyclers. Showers all around, thank God. If work hadn’t been hard, the other part of the day had sucked toads. Jason’s funeral had been beautiful and terrible. She’d lost friends before. Space travel was a dangerous occupation. Somehow, though, she felt responsible for Jason’s death. She’d located the source of the explosion—most likely a damaged fuel valve—but she still couldn’t figure out why it had malfunctioned. Samantha stripped, trying to imagine that her grief and frustration were falling to the floor along with her clothes. Then she went to her tiny shower and spent a full six minutes luxuriating in the hot water. Deciding what to wear turned out to be a lot harder than Samantha anticipated. Actually, she hadn’t thought about what she’d be wearing tonight at all, mostly because she’d spent every free second fantasizing about not wearing a thing. 13

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“I am so going to hell,” she muttered, plowing through her drawers in search of a sweater. After two years as an observer in an all-male habitat, Samantha was an old hand at reading the signals. Kane wanted her and she wanted him too. Madly. So why had she wavered—almost said no, until he’d said Blake would be there too? More to the point, why exactly did Blake plan to be there if Kane was going to make a move on her? Samantha growled, irritated with herself, and slapped her hands over her eyes. “I am a depraved, deprived woman,” she said to no one in particular. Even after all this time, she simply could not choose one of the Damsen brothers over the other. Having dinner—and whatever else he offered—with Kane or Blake alone seemed…wrong, somehow. She flopped down inelegantly on her bunk and stared up at the ceiling. The tight red tank top or the bulky sweatshirt? “The red top,” she murmured. “Definitely the red one.” Standing, she took the shirt out of her dresser. As she slipped it over her head, the whisper of fabric against her skin sounded like a promise made in the dark. She was brushing her hair when she remembered the vidcard from that morning. Retrieving it from her uniform pocket, she slid it into her old, handheld reader and waited for the text to start scrolling. The first thing to come up, however, wasn’t text but an image. Horror crawled up her spine. God help us all.

***** Kane tipped back his chair and scrutinized the schematic, his expression dark. “Was there any text with it?” “I haven’t checked yet. Once I realized what it was, I came straight here.” Samantha was pleased to hear that the tremor in her voice was minimal. When she’d gotten to their door, she’d been shaking so badly that it had taken several tries to hit the buzzer.

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She sipped gratefully at the coffee, wishing she could sit back, relax and enjoy the treat Blake had fixed it for her, thoughtfully adding a caffeine-neutralizer. She was dimly curious as to what other goodies they had stowed away in here. “Tell us what we’re looking at,” Blake said thoughtfully. Samantha set her mug down and leaned forward on the table, pointing to a highlighted area on the schematic. In her state of dazed anguish, she hadn’t thought about the fact that Kane and Blake weren’t engineers. “You’re looking at Twyla,” she began, switching into an academic mode she found oddly soothing. “Specifically, at her fuel cells. This one…” Samantha touched the air next to a section of the diagram. The image zoomed in to show a small tube with a hairline crack in it. She paused, focusing on the crack and swallowing hard as bile rose in her throat. “This one,” she soldiered on, “is the one that ‘malfunctioned’. This little crack, here, is how.” Her stomach turned over. Those tubes were made with a silicone-steel alloy, the strongest, most flexible material ever invented. “It didn’t malfunction,” she said, knowing it was obvious but needing to say the words anyway. “Those cells are rated for six thousand years—they wouldn’t ever crack. Somebody would have had to literally drill into it,” she said, her voice rising at the end. Who would do such a thing? Who would risk his own life and the lives of everyone else on the ship? If The Stronghold hadn’t happened to be within range… Okay, so she wasn’t going to go there. The more important question was, why? She sat on her trembling hands, feeling the grain of the wooden chair beneath her. The Damsens’ quarters were filled with such antiquities and Samantha found the surroundings immensely comforting. Almost like home. Kane leaned forward, manipulating the holographic image with his fingers. “There’s text with it,” he said, his brows furrowed. The three of them watched as words began to scroll on the vidscreen. Samantha read, her stomach sickening with every word.

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Samantha, why are you ignoring me? After all we’ve been through, I can’t believe you’re still running away from the truth. I was very angry with you until I realized that you were simply overwhelmed and confused by your feelings for me. I’m here for you. I won’t let you sink. I’m sorry about the spin-drive. I’ll admit that I timed it poorly. Please forgive me, darling. As a token of my remorse, I’m sending the schematic along with this message so that you can fix the problem. I only wanted to hurt you a little, enough to send you to medical, where I could show you how much I love you, that you can depend on me to take care of you. A passion like this is worth a little pain. Jason’s death was a sad casualty, but we both know that what we have together is bigger, more important than anyone or anything else. I’d hoped to comfort you in your time of need—but once again, you are running away. I offered you the solace of my arms, and you denied yourself that comfort. You’re torturing us both—why? It’s time to stop running, Samantha. I knew it the second my plan failed. This is fate’s way of telling us that it’s high time we declared our feelings to the world. I can’t do all of the work. You’ve danced around your obligation to me long enough. Don’t push me away again.

The last line hung in the air like foul smoke, smothering Samantha’s attempts to speak. At last, she gave up. There were no words for what she was feeling anyway. She realized her mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut with an audible click. Gradually, she became aware of Kane and Blake, who were watching her with silent intensity. Kane sat with hands fisted, his blue gaze hard and metallic, looking ready to explode at any second. Something deadly and animal lurked in Blake’s light gray eyes, all the more dangerous for its cold, quiet patience. Somehow it was more unsettling than Kane’s easy-to-read fury. Unnerved, Samantha focused determinedly on the holographic image rotating in the air. She’d diagnosed the problem correctly this afternoon and had made the necessary repairs, but this made the “how” of it all too clear. Blake nodded, the rage vanishing from his gaze so quickly that she wondered if she’d really seen it. He plucked the vidcard out of the handheld and the image

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disappeared. He handed the card to her but she didn’t take it, looking at it as if it were a snake coiled to strike. How had this happened? Shouldn’t she have seen this coming somehow? Dropping her head into her hands, she worked hard against the telltale tightness in her throat. “This isn’t your fault,” Blake said firmly in his authoritative voice. “No, it isn’t,” Kane agreed. “I know,” Samantha said fiercely, struggling against tears. “I know it isn’t. It’s just… They warned me about being the only female on a ship, about what that could do to the collective psyche of a crew of men out here. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken the post.” A warm hand rubbed the back of her neck, gently massaging. Kane’s or Blake’s, it didn’t matter at the moment. All she could think about was Jason, and the way the explosion had caught and thrown his body into the steel bulkhead when the leaked fuel had reached critical mass, as if he were some horrible, discarded rag doll. After a long moment of silence, the muscles of her neck began to relax and Samantha thought she just might win the battle with her tears. “This has nothing to do with you,” Kane said gently. “You just happened to be there, a convenient focus for his obsession. This guy was a sick fuck to begin with. I have no idea how he got by the psych eval.” “Unfortunately,” Blake added, “Kane’s right about his fixation on you. We have to find a way to deal with that. We’ll find him, Sam. And we’ll stop him.” She looked up through tear-blurry eyes, swallowing hard. Kane’s blue gaze was dark, determined. His anger seeped into her, a balm to her frayed nerves. She looked to Blake and felt something cold and fearful inside her melt at the strength and support she saw in his eyes. They were right. She hadn’t caused this and the guy who had—the one who had killed Jason, the one who had fractured Twyla and endangered them all—he was the one who deserved her rage. She straightened, reaching for her own emotional reserves.

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“You’re right,” she said, taking the card from Blake. “Blake, can you encrypt the schematic alone and delete the text? I want to send the diagram to Langley so he can double-check the repairs we made today. I don’t trust anyone else with it yet.” She’d deal with breaking the news of a saboteur in their midst to her second-in-command later. “I’ll link it to his retina scan ID,” Blake reassured her and went into the bedroom to transmit the document. Kane reached over and took her small hand in his. “It’s going to be fine,” he said sympathetically, drawing her hand to his mouth and placing a kiss on her knuckles that she felt all the way to her toes. He grinned at her conspiratorially, an impossibly boyish expression that had her smiling back before she realized it. “No sense wasting Blake’s perfectly good lasagna, now, is there?” he asked. “He made lasagna?” she asked, but Kane was already out of his chair. Her unease lingered. Twyla was stable—the diagram changed nothing with regard to the repairs they’d made—but she felt as if she should be doing something, dammit. Something to fix the problem of having a saboteur on board. “I really should go to Engineering. They might need me …” she trailed off as the heady smell of pasta—real, cooked pasta— registered with her numbed senses. “No,” Kane said, his gaze holding hers as he reached into a cabinet and drew out plates, “you have to eat. And rest.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he cut her off. “Honey, you’ve been running on two or three hours sleep a night for four days now. You just went to a friend’s funeral this afternoon. Twyla may be limping along, but she’s stable for now. We’ll put an extra security detail on her so this guy can’t get to her again. Let Langley take care of her for now.” He portioned the lasagna onto plates and for a moment she couldn’t decide what looked more delectable—the food or the sly, sideways grin he was giving her. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, still unsure. Kane sat down next to her, putting his hand over hers. “In your current state, you are more of a liability than an asset to your team. Twyla is stable—thanks to you. We’ll 18

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make sure Engineering is secured. You need to eat and you need to rest. Otherwise you’re an accident waiting to happen, and God knows we don’t need any more of those.” Samantha nodded slowly. He was right. She’d stay, for now.

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Chapter Two Samantha sipped her coffee and listened to plates clanking in their tiny kitchen as Kane finished preparing the meal. It was an intimate, homey sound, one she hadn’t heard in a long time, and it made her slightly homesick. The hollow, plastic sound of the mess hall crockery was convivial somehow, but it didn’t call to mind someone in the kitchen, preparing food for a family. At least, not the way she imagined it. Her own upbringing brought to mind the sound of plates smashing, not rattling together with the rich resonance of fine pottery. She watched Kane in silence, his powerful, black-clad form perfectly at ease in the congenial little kitchen, and imagined what life with them might be like. Could it really be so easy, so comfortable? Samantha allowed her gaze to travel the spacious, well-appointed room. She’d never been inside their quarters. It was as if she were stepping into another world, where a woman could forget she was in a tin can hurtling through an unthinkably vast void. Rich, masculine colors graced the walls, complementing the simple, elegant furniture—real furniture—in the suite. It was a wonderful retreat, a place where they could relax, unwind and think. Contemplative. That’s what the room was. Kane was more a man of action. Blake, she guessed, had done the decorating in here. From her chair in the kitchen, she could see the corner of a station-issue bunk in the bedroom, a pair of uniform pants hanging over the edge, loafers at the foot. That would be Kane’s, she’d bet her coffee on it. Her stomach growled loudly. She covered it with her hands, embarrassed, and heard Kane’s low chuckle from across the room. “Hungry?” “Yep.” Kane brought dinner over, setting down the plates and taking a seat to her right. 20

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“You guys must have spent a fortune on this place,” she murmured. “It’s…it’s amazing.” Returning to herself, she met Kane’s cool, blue gaze. He was looking at her as if she were dinner. Samantha felt the heat rise in her blood, a flush creeping up her neck. “Nah,” Blake said, emerging from the doorway to the bedroom. He laid the vidcard down on a small table, looking at it as though it were a bug that might crawl out of his shoe’s reach. “The permits were a bitch to get. Furniture and paint is nothing—you should hear the story about the daybed,” he said, nodding toward the room he’d just come out of. He sat down to her left and reached for his own coffee. She tried not to stare at his mouth as he brought the cup to his lips. Kane leaned forward, putting his hand on her knee while he reached for a small gray box on the other side of the table. His touch sent electric sparks dancing up her leg. God, it felt good to be touched. With personal space at such a premium, crew members rarely made bodily contact in their everyday interactions. Doing so would make the ship seem that much smaller. But here, in the Damsens’ warm, spacious room, the pressure and warmth of Kane’s hand was pure bliss. Samantha didn’t move, afraid he’d take his hand away. Kane sat back but didn’t remove his hand. She had to repress a mad urge to scoot forward, to push his hand up her thigh. What was she thinking? But she knew the answer to that. She’d wanted this for a long, long time. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she felt Blake tap her on the shoulder. She turned to look at him and Kane’s hand did slide up. A small whimper escaped her throat and Blake’s gray eyes turned ravenous. Kane leaned close enough that she could feel his warm breath on her ear. “Watch,” he said softly. Samantha’s heart pounded and she had to struggle to keep her breathing steady. Kane pressed a button on the remote and a king-sized daybed lowered out of the wall. Samantha stared, a thousand fantasies crowding out every rational thought in her head.

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Wait a minute, some small part of her brain piped up. How long have they been planning this? She stiffened, excitement and hesitancy flooding her in equal measures. Seeming to sense her sudden tension, Blake straightened and Kane removed his hand. They began to eat quietly and she joined them, her head spinning. God, she wanted to spend the night in that bed. And God, she shouldn’t. “After the way you looked today,” Blake said kindly, interrupting her thoughts, “we thought you might like to sleep there. It’s the most comfortable place on the ship, I can guarantee you. And,” Blake paused, watching her closely, “we’ll sleep in our room—door shut—so you can have the place all to yourself.” She looked at Kane and he nodded his assent, but his expression was a little too solicitous to be completely sincere. Samantha felt the blood rush to her face and put her hand over her mouth to hide a smile. She shook her head and swallowed hard. Damn. If she were going to sleep in that bed, it wouldn’t be alone, she thought with a rush. She wanted to scream with frustration. What was wrong with her? If she let herself sleep with them, she’d fall for them. She just knew it. Hell, she was already falling for them. And the four-ton boulder of feeling that had been hovering above her ever since she’d met them would come down and crush her flat, just like it had her parents. I can’t. I just can’t. “It’s a very tempting offer, guys, but I have to get up at oh four thirty. And I couldn’t put you out of your place.” The disappointment was plain on Kane’s face and she felt a little guilty for turning them down so flatly. Especially when you want to ride him just as much as he wants to be ridden, said the errant little voice in her head—the one that spoke the truth, whether she liked it or not. “But I could stay for coffee,” she added a little too brightly. Blake shook his head. “No coffee this late. Brandy.” Samantha was too shocked to protest. “Brandy? Real brandy? Is that even legal? What else are you guys hiding in here?” Kane chuckled and Blake gave her a secretive, crooked smile. 22

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“Our kitchen is the best kept secret on The Adamant.” “I’ll just bet.” He pushed his chair back, stood and walked to the kitchen. God, his butt was gorgeous in those jeans. His t-shirt stretched over a fine, ridged landscape of muscle as he reached up into a high cabinet, retrieving the brandy and three snifters, holding the stems like playing cards between his long, elegant fingers. As he strode back to the table, she watched the play of muscle in his arms with deep appreciation. Blake poured them a round of brandy and sat back, extending a glass to her. “No joke,” she breathed, accepting the brandy. It had been a long time since she’d had alcohol and she usually drank wine. She took a sip of the fiery liquid and swallowed it quickly, before she could embarrass herself by coughing. It burned its way down her throat to her belly and she closed her eyes appreciatively, smiling. Blake’s chair creaked as he leaned forward abruptly, cupping her chin and regarding her closely. For a heart-stopping moment she thought he was going to kiss her, but he merely studied her, turning her face this way and that. His fingers were warm and smooth against her skin. Oh God, she wanted to close her eyes and just give in to that touch. Maybe if she did, he’d touch her in other, more interesting places. “Sam,” he said softly, “you can’t go in to work at oh four thirty, not with this guy on the loose. He’s after you, not Twyla. At least take the morning off until we can get more information, love.” She met his gaze levelly, silently considering. Blake’s mouth tightened into a hard line but Kane spoke up before the helmsman could start issuing orders. “Blake’s right, Sam. You guys have done the big repairs. Langley’s more than capable of watching over Twyla for a few more hours. What’s more, if this guy is after you, we don’t want you anywhere near the engine if you don’t have to be.” She sighed and gave them what she hoped was a relaxed, thoughtful smile. The brandy was really going to her head, even on a full stomach. She should probably go

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back to her quarters, before it got any worse. Feeling awkward, she set her empty glass down, planted her palms on the table and got to her feet. “I had a really, really good time, guys. I’d better call it a night, though.” Blake’s expression was concerned. “Want an escort home?” She considered briefly, feeling the shakiness in her legs and leaning on the table a little too much. “Might not be a bad idea.” Blake nodded to Kane, who stood easily and offered her his arm. She took it gratefully, stood without the aid of the table—and promptly fainted. Her last thought before she fell into blackness was that the brandy had probably been a bad idea.

Kane uttered an oath and caught Samantha before she fell. Gathering her limp form in his arms, he took her to the daybed and lowered her onto the cotton sheets. “Samantha, baby, come back,” he purred softly, shaking her gently. “Come back to us.” Blake sat down on her other side and leaned over her, observing her closely, running his thumb gently across her forehead. “She’s okay. Give her a second,” he said quietly. Kane moved around to her other side and stretched out beside her on the bed, stroking her arm with a shaky hand, his anxiety a palpable force in Blake’s mind. At last, her eyelids fluttered open. “What happened?” she asked groggily. “You passed out, dear,” Blake said softly, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her forehead. “From one cup of brandy—and an ocean of exhaustion. Now I’m ordering you. Go to sleep. Right here. We’ll sleep in the other room.” For a second it looked as if she were going to argue and Blake inhaled, preparing for a verbal duel. Then she made a dismissive gesture with her hand, as though too

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tired to make the attempt, and looked at him with a sleepy gaze that was somehow resigned and content at the same time. He found it incredibly erotic. “Bed feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked in a low voice. She nodded, rumpling her hair in the covers, and blinked heavily. She turned on her side, facing him, and tucked a hand between her knees. “Thanks, guys.” Blake gave her a long, appraising look, weighing the chances of getting her to postpone her shift in the morning. As though reading his thoughts, she smiled at him with half-lidded eyes that could drive a man to drink. “Don’t give me that superior officer look. If I’m not okay by oh four hundred I’ll call in for another four hours. Deal, Sir?” She stressed the honorific and he decided that, the hint of mockery in her tone notwithstanding, he liked it coming from her. Oh yes, he liked it very much. His cock stiffened and he angled his hips away from her so she wouldn’t feel it. Kane shot him a look that was half reproach, half agonized anticipation. She turned her head on the pillow to look at Kane then, her expression tired and slightly vulnerable. “Will you stay?” Kane’s eyes widened but he just nodded, his surprise washing over Blake. “Good.” With that, she turned over to Kane and wrapped her small body around his, snuggling into his chest. Her hand stole around his neck and she held on as though she were worried he’d leave. Kane looked down at her and then back at Blake, his arm hovering above the small of her back as though he couldn’t decide how to respond. “I guess I’m staying right here,” he said softly. Blake helped his brother move her to the center of the bed, trying to hide his own growling disappointment. Why had she only asked for Kane? Kane gave him a regretful look and nodded, acknowledging his dissatisfaction. It seemed Samantha was going to be like all the others—more attracted to one twin than the other. 25

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“We don’t know that yet,” Kane whispered, tucking her more securely against him and stroking her long red hair. Blake watched, his feelings a tangled mess. He’d never been jealous of Kane before, and he wasn’t sure what that meant. Did he feel so strongly about her that she could come between them? He stood, straightening his shirt with a stiff, jerky tug, and headed toward the bedroom door. He was inches from the threshold when he heard a small sound and stopped to listen, unsure if he’d heard right. “What was that, Sam?” he asked softly, hardly daring to hope. She rolled over partway and looked at him, her green eyes wide and sincere. “I meant you too, Blake,” she whispered, meeting his gaze over Kane’s shoulder. “Will you stay too?” “Of course, baby,” Blake replied, and covered the distance to the bed in three strides. His heart drumming wildly, he lay down on her other side, resting his hand on her hip. Exchanging a quick glance with Kane, he dared—just for a second—to feel the joy and hope radiating from his brother. She scooted backward, settling herself securely between them. I told you she was different, Kane said silently, the smugness in his tone unmistakable. Between them, Samantha giggled, a small, feminine sound. “What’s funny?” he asked, meeting Kane’s puzzled gaze over her shoulder. “A Damsen sandwich,” she murmured, yawning widely. Kane rolled his eyes. “Go to sleep already, woman.” She smiled and wriggled until she was wedged securely between them, oblivious to their pained looks. “Yes Sir,” she breathed, and fell into a deep sleep. Kane’s barely audible groan brought a grin to Blake’s face. His brother liked the title just as much as he did. Kane propped himself up on one elbow and looked at Blake over her shoulder. “God, she scared me.”

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“Me too,” Blake murmured, stroking her hip almost reverently. He’d fantasized all day about fucking her, and he was surprised to find that he wasn’t disappointed. Vulnerable, she’d trusted them not to take advantage of her, to take care of her. It was an incredible gift. Gently so as not to wake her, Blake undid the knot in her hair. It fell in loose, auburn waves that he smoothed down against the pillow. Like silk, he thought, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. He ran his hand down the curve of her waist and brought it to rest again on her hip. For a long time he watched her sleep, knowing his brother did the same. He must have drifted off, because he woke when she turned over and huddled up against him, resting her palm on his chest and inhaling deeply. “Blake,” she whispered, and smiled in her sleep. He heard Kane chuckle behind her. “We are so screwed,” Kane laughed quietly. Blake looked down at Samantha’s sleeping form, her expression one of complete contentment. He wondered if she knew how hard they’d fallen for her. “Yep,” he replied, placing a tender kiss on her forehead. They were screwed. And he realized he didn’t care one bit.

***** Samantha found herself naked and in total darkness, leaning back against a strong, aroused male body. The erection, steel wrapped in hot, silky-soft skin, poked into her back and ran from the middle of her spine to just below her shoulder blades. The engorged tip was hot and wet against her feverish skin and she shivered as her body answered his with a rush of welcoming liquid heat between her legs. He rocked his hips against her gently, giving her a foretaste of what was to come, and she groaned with anticipation.

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She was dreaming, she realized, just dreaming. Of course she was, she could never do this in reality. She wished… Oh, she wished. The salty smell of the ocean drifted over her and she could hear waves breaking in the distance. A soft breeze caressed her heated skin. They were on a blanket, on the beach, she realized. Her favorite place on Old Earth. The dream-man’s palms slid around her waist, the pads of his fingers rasping her sensitive skin with delicious firmness then resting on her lower belly, his fingers stroking just above her soft triangle of curls. She twitched involuntarily and laid her head back against his muscular shoulder, aching, unaware that she was whimpering through parted lips. “Shh, baby. We’re both here.” It was Blake’s voice, a warm rush of air against her ear that set her on fire. Her hips twitched under his touch, hungry. Another set of hands, equally strong and gentle, swept her hair aside to reveal the vulnerable skin of her neck. The first swipe of his warm, wet tongue on her neck had her gasping and arching against him, spreading her legs wide for him, inviting, wanting him to fill her flooded pussy. A low chuckle in her ear, fingertips teasing her nipples. “Patience, love.” She whimpered, writhing against him. He ground his hips against her back and she felt his taut balls press against her tailbone. Another pair of hands—Kane’s—replaced Blake’s, cupping her breasts, thumbing her nipples gently until she arched into his grasp, wanting more. In answer to her silent entreaty, his tongue replaced one of his hands, laving and suckling while the other kneaded gently. She could feel her own slick, wet arousal trickling down onto the blanket and she whispered a plea, “Make love to me.” In answer, Blake trailed his hand down her belly and pinched her clit between his thumb and forefinger. Sensation shot through her and she stiffened against him, gasping.

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Kane slid his finger into her, then two, stretching her. Samantha cried out and heard Blake purr his approval. He let go of her clit and the blood rushed back into it, an exquisite sensation of pleasure-pain. “Oh God,” she cried, barely able to breathe as she felt Kane’s body slide down hers, his broad shoulders pushing her thighs apart. Then his mouth replaced his hand and she forgot everything but the feel of his tongue on her as he sucked gently on her clit. Blake’s cock throbbed against her back, his hands cupping and squeezing her breasts, teasing damp circles around her areolas. His soft kisses and gentle nips on her neck worked in perfect time with Kane’s teasing tongue and she gasped, gulping for air. Her world spun until she swore she could see stars, floating on a wave of pleasure she never thought possible. She put her hands on the smooth skin of Kane’s broad shoulders, wanting to grind against his mouth and pull away at the same time, to wait, prolong the pleasure… “Do you want my cock, love?” Blake murmured in her ear, rubbing gently against her spine. She could feel Kane’s lips curve in a smile around her clit. “Yes, please, oh God, yes!” Blake rolled onto his back and turned her to face him, his big hands lifting her up and positioning her over his cock. He hilted himself in her in one long, smooth thrust. Her nails dug into Kane’s shoulders as she supported herself against him with one hand, riding Blake in a frenzy of hunger. Kane’s mouth slanted over hers, hot and demanding as Blake met her stroke for stroke, pounding into her, filling her with his girth as Kane swallowed her cries. “Time to come, love,” Kane whispered against her mouth, the pad of his thumb flicking over her clit lightly. Orgasm gripped her from head to toe, hurling her over the precipice and she was suddenly falling, moaning in pleasure, safe in their arms.

*****

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Samantha snapped awake to her own uninhibited cry, the aftershocks of an orgasm trembling through her body. Jesus, she’d come in her sleep. She couldn’t remember that ever happening before. She lay still a moment, listening to the sound of her own harsh breathing. Wow. Where the hell had that come from? Well, she mused, dinner with two gorgeous men, and brandy, and… “Shit!” Forgetting herself in her horror, she sat up and lunged for the foot of the bed, a vague plan of escape forming in her head. Deep, resonant laughter came from both sides of her. One hand caught her wrist, the other her waist. The twins dragged her back in between them, where she flopped down on her back and covered her eyes with her free hand, groaning and utterly mortified. There was a muted click as Blake turned on the lamp and Kane gently tugged at the hand covering her eyes. She twisted away from his coaxing grip. “No. I’m not looking at either of you, ever again. If you’re truly gentlemen, you’ll take me to the nearest airlock so I can end my life with dignity.” “Oh baby,” Blake coughed, “I wouldn’t trade that memory for all the cigars in Cuba.” “That was gorgeous,” Kane agreed. “Come on, Sam, it’s okay,” he cajoled, persisting in his attempts to take her hand away from her eyes. Samantha held firm though. There was no way she’d look either of them in the eye, ever again. One of them—probably Blake—tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek. “I’ve seen you both sleep through asteroid collision drills,” she moaned, “and you couldn’t possibly have slept through that?” At last she gave in to Kane, permitting him to take her hand, revealing her crimson blush to both men. His smile not unkind, he drew her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles that stirred her blood. She wondered how that was possible, given her current state of near-death embarrassment. With his free hand, Kane stroked the side of her face, his expression sympathetic. She clenched her hands into fists, fighting the urge to lean into his touch and rub against him like a cat.

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“Asteroids don’t hold a candle to that,” Blake said, his eyes full of amusement. There was a pause. “Seriously, Sam, do you want to go? We won’t stop you,” Kane said kindly. Samantha bit her lower lip. His respect for her feelings made her want to stay. How screwed up was that? She eyed him suspiciously. “What are you going to do if I stay?” He studied her face carefully, as though trying to read her, then looked to his brother and shrugged. “Nothing at all. I’m off rotation until tomorrow night, but I’ve got to work on a damned cipher sometime today,” he said casually, then added with deceptive lightness, “It is nice to know you think I’m a god in bed.” Samantha grimaced. “Can you just forget I ever—” Blake cut her off, giving Kane a sharp look. “I believe I was the god.” “Fine, but it was my name she screamed when she came,” Kane shot back. Samantha watched the exchange, unsure whether it aroused or appalled her. Perhaps both? Blake looked down at her, his expression a curious mixture of mirth and feral, almost predatory interest. She realized abruptly that she was on her back, lying between two of the most attractive men she’d ever seen in her life—men she’d wanted since the day she first met them. “So which one of us was better, beautiful?” Blake’s voice lowered to a husky whisper, his gaze intently observant. The way he watched her so closely, missing nothing, made her feel naked. She could hide nothing from him, from them. It was both totally, erotically liberating and utterly terrifying. Samantha opened her mouth to reply, then shut it, realizing they’d both been incredible—together. She found herself looking from one man to the other, unsure what to say. It was Kane who kissed her first, releasing her wrist to cup her chin in his big hand, capturing her surprised squeak. His mouth covered hers gently at first, his lips gliding sensuously over hers, his tongue teasing, beckoning her to open for him. Her own

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response startled her as she reached for him eagerly, wrapping her leg around him to pull him closer. He tasted like brandy, sweet and almond. His tongue lapped at hers, seeking more, coaxing her closer. He growled, a hungry, leonine sound, and fisted his hand in her hair, pushing her back into the mattress as he leaned over her. Blake’s hand spanned her lower belly, anchoring her easily against the bed. Kane cupped the nape of her neck and stroked her arm, his hand wandering gently in contrast with his demanding mouth. He cupped her breast, teasing her nipple through her cotton shirt until she gasped. Blake slipped his fingers under the hem of her skirt and moved them down to stroke the soft curls between her legs. Samantha could only shiver breathlessly under the onslaught of sensation, her body an instrument played by a maestro. Two of them. Even in her dream, she’d not imagined they could move in such seamless, perfect harmony, like one lover in two bodies, the touch of one complementing, heightening the pleasure of the other. She was absolutely helpless to resist them—and in that moment, she honestly didn’t care to. “Please—” she breathed. Kane bit down gently on her earlobe. “Please what, baby? What is it that you want?” “Everything,” she all but whimpered, her body on fire, her senses flooded with their touches. What was she thinking? She had to stop—but she couldn’t. She’d wanted them too badly, for too long. She sighed inwardly. “Damn the torpedoes,” she murmured against Kane’s lips, and he chuckled softly. “We can wait—” “No!” Samantha pulled back to look at him, not sure which was stronger—her urgent need or her fear of it. “Yes! I don’t know!” Blake tugged at her shoulder, turning her toward him gently. “At least give me one of those kisses before you make up your mind,” he purred, nipping her neck and trailing kisses up to her mouth. Samantha heard herself whimper as she reached unthinkingly for him, laying her hand on his cheek, testing his lips with her fingertips. Her other hand slid down to the waistband of his shorts, seeking out his 32

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cock. She moaned when she felt it, thick and hard and easily as big as she’d dreamt— maybe bigger. Relishing the damp heat of him, she wrapped her fingers around the base and stroked him, a long, slow motion that elicited a deep, ravenous moan from him. He fisted his hand in her hair and kissed her hard, his mouth mastering hers effortlessly, stealing the breath from her lungs. “I want to feel you in me,” she whispered, hardly able to believe her own boldness, stroking the soft skin of his balls. Her gaze searched his for permission, found it. He groaned, a deep, longing sound vibrating in his broad chest. “Samantha, I promise, we won’t tell a soul,” Blake ground out. “We wouldn’t put you at risk for anything.” “Thank you,” she whispered, “because I couldn’t stop right now even if you were going to film us and show the entire ship.”

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Chapter Three Watching her carefully, Blake slid off his shorts. His erection sprang free, so hard and full it seemed like it must hurt him. Samantha swallowed audibly, feeling Kane do the same behind her. “I’ve never done anything like this before,” she said in a strained whisper. Would they both want to fuck her at the same time? She’d tried anal sex before, knew she could do it, but she hadn’t slept with anyone in at least… Two years? More? She tried to remember. Would it hurt? “It’s okay, baby. We won’t hurt you,” Kane said softly in her ear. Samantha turned her head and smiled at him, then at Blake. Both men lay still, waiting, watching her expression carefully. She felt small and protected between them. Feminine. Sexy. Hungry. She hadn’t felt that way in ages. She wanted to scream for both of them to fuck her, hard, right now, but the words caught in her throat, choked by nerves. She took a deep breath and looked from one to the other. “I want to, I’m just… I’m not sure how this works.” Kane stroked her cheek. “It works however the three of us want it to,” he said gently. She relaxed a fraction. “Hey,” Kane said, tapping her shoulder. “Are you really okay with this? All of it?” Samantha thought for a second and realized she was okay with it. She wanted both of them. She’d always imagined herself falling in love…well…conventionally. With one man. She didn’t dream of settling down, really, what she wanted was to stay on board a ship, where she could spend her days tinkering with engine manifolds and her nights having wild sex. Kids someday too. Maybe, she thought wryly. But however far from the picket fence her dreams strayed, they’d never included two men.

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Yet here she was. She looked from one to the other, a warm feeling stealing through her. Yes, here she was, and it was exactly where she wanted to be. She kissed Kane, then Blake. “Yes, I’m really okay with it.” A thrill of excitement went through her. Finding one brilliant, gorgeous, thoughtful man in this huge universe was a lot to ask. And here were two such men, looking at her as if she was the center of their world. She must have done something right. Blake frowned and looked at Kane. “She has that look in her eyes,” he said with mock-wariness. “The one she gets when she gets her hands on a brand-new engine part.” Samantha squeaked with feigned outrage and rolled him onto his back, straddling his stomach and looking down at him, trying to hide the hunger she felt. Blake’s expression changed abruptly, his eyes full of a longing so acute it hurt her to see it. “Let us see you,” he implored, grasping the hem of her shirt and helping her out of it. Reflexively shy, Samantha crossed her arms over her breasts. He reached up and took her hands in his, lowering them to her sides. Kane stroked her back, running his long fingers down her spine. “You’re more beautiful than we ever imagined,” Blake said, his voice lowering a notch. Samantha turned her body, leaning against Kane as he nipped her earlobe, sliding his hand up to palm her breast. He toyed with her nipple, sending arcs of pleasure streaking down to her pussy, which throbbed and ached for want of them. “Get on your hands and knees, baby.” Kane’s voice was hoarse with need. For her. Samantha shivered uncontrollably. Samantha climbed off Blake slowly and did as Kane said, her heart pounding with excitement. Kane scooted to her head and lay back against the pillows so that his legs surrounded her on both sides. His stiff cock bobbed before her lips like a gift. Blake trailed a hand along her side as he positioned himself behind her. She turned her attention to Kane, gripping the base of his beautiful, hard cock and lifting her hand to trace the thick vein from his taut balls to the swollen, purple head. A drop of moisture 35

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appeared at the tip. She swept it away on to her fingertip, sucking on her finger. Honey. He was sweet as honey. He jerked from balls to tip and groaned, a longing sound. “Suck me,” he grated. Now this was something Samantha liked doing. The trust he put in her, the pleasure she could give him, the feel of his cock in her mouth—these were all things she’d looked forward to. She moistened her lips and started with the head, sliding it into her mouth. She flicked her tongue back and forth over the tip. Kane groaned and fisted his hands in her hair. With a soft moan of pleasure, she dropped to her elbows to free her hands, palming his balls with one and grasping the base of his cock with the other, stroking gently. With his cock between her lips, she looked up at Kane. His abdominal muscles were trembling, his breathing rapid and shallow, his eyes half-lidded and burning. She took in an inch more, wrapping her tongue around his satin skin and sucking, mimicking a swallow. She watched him, drowning in the eroticism of it, seeing in his eyes the pleasure she brought him with every flick of her tongue. She drew in as much of him as she could take and held his gaze with half of his cock in her mouth. His hard thigh muscles twitched under her hands. Blake shifted behind her, turning onto his back and sliding his head between her legs in one smooth motion. He wrapped his powerful arms around her thighs and pulled gently, coaxing her down over his mouth. She made a small, surprised sound, a little nervous. She’d never been totally comfortable with being licked, had never been with a man who’d made it particularly great. Kane stroked her hair, his hand gliding over her cheek and down to her chin, tipping her head up. Releasing his cock, she looked up into his bright blue eyes. “It’s okay, love. Let him take care of you,” he implored softly, wrapping his big hand around the base of his cock and stroking from base to tip. “Let me watch.”

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Her gaze locked with Kane’s, she let Blake draw her burning, drenched pussy down to his mouth. Lick. Blake’s tongue skimmed, featherlight, along the length of her slit, parting her lips and coming to rest on her throbbing clit. The intimate, gentle slide of his tongue rocked her body like a thunderclap. Her thighs trembling in his strong arms, she struggled to support herself with her arms. Her breasts felt heavy and sensitive and she leaned just a little lower to rub her nipples against Kane’s inner thighs, sighing. Then Blake’s tongue began a slow circle around her clit and she was lost to sensation. “Oh God,” she moaned, her eyes half closing. Kane tapped her chin gently with his finger. “Don’t close your eyes. Look at me, beautiful,” Kane grated in a voice that made her shiver all over. Blake’s arms tightened around her thighs, supporting her above him, his tongue moving in relentless, torturously slow circles. Without thinking, Samantha obeyed Kane’s command, her eyes opening wide, his blue gaze utterly penetrating her defenses. Blake stopped for a forever-second, breathed warm air over her aching clit, then sucked it gently between his lips. Her jaw dropped and a scream died in her throat as her orgasm approached with a suddenness and ferocity she’d never experienced before, racing from her core into her belly, seizing her breasts and bowing her back. Then, with equal suddenness, Blake slid out from beneath her, leaving her teetering on the precipice. The scream caught in her throat escaped, half shock, half frustration, and she turned her head to look at Blake. He was kneeling behind her, watching her closely, stroking his thick cock. It looked ready to explode. “Do you want me in you?” he ground out between clenched teeth.

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“Yes,” she whimpered, “please.” Her gaze fixed on the drop of pre-cum swelling on the tip of Blake’s cock and her desperation grew. He paused as though he might tease her more. If he did, she thought she’d cry. Instead, he turned and picked up a small, square packet lying on the bed behind him, tearing it open. It took her fogged mind a second to realize what he was about. What a thoughtful man, and one with a lot of presence of mind. “Oh,” she said, smiling, “you won’t need that. I’m on the Pill.” She’d been put on birth control years ago to tame her irregular menstrual periods. At the time, she’d been so far from sexually active it was ridiculous, and the medicine had seemed like an annoyance. At the moment, she was incredibly grateful for it. And for the early twentyfirst century advances in gene therapy, which had made sexually transmitted diseases a thing of the past. He put the condom aside. Returning her smile, Blake moved behind her, lifting her hips and positioning the head of his cock at her drenched, hungry slit. In one powerful thrust, he seated himself balls-deep. Samantha gasped. She wouldn’t have been surprised if her heart had stopped right then. Her body struggled to accommodate his girth but the twinges of pain were nothing next to the sensation of being stretched, filled to capacity. She swore she could feel him all the way up to her lower belly. Her thighs and arms went weak and she would have fallen had Kane not caught her. “Blake,” he said sharply, “you hurt her.” She felt Blake withdrawing and made a wild little sound, thrusting her hips back against him and seating him as far in her as he would go. “No,” she breathed harshly, “don’t go.” There was a pause, then she heard them both chuckle. Blake patted her bottom. “I’m not going anywhere, beautiful.” He began to fuck her in long, slow strokes that had her whimpering mindlessly, holding Kane’s hips tightly and leaning back into Blake’s thrusts. The head of Kane’s cock tapped her lips, begging her attention, and she took him into her mouth without hesitation, sucking hard, sliding him in and out in 38

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time to Blake’s strokes. The men groaned in unison, Kane’s hips jerking beneath her. Her lips curving into a smile around Kane’s cock, she licked and teased him, taking him deep, moaning her pleasure along his length as Blake stuffed her full from behind. Blake sped up, his strokes becoming wilder, more frantic. His balls, soaked with the hot, slick fluid from her weeping pussy, tapped her clit with every plunge, teasing her to madness. She felt them both grow and stiffen. She cried out around Kane’s cock as the orgasm Blake had denied her before approached again, stronger this time. Oh God, would he stop again, or would he let her come? As though he’d read her thoughts, Blake murmured behind her, “Yes, love, you can have it this time.” The world exploded around her and she screamed, relaxing her throat and swallowing Kane to the base, feeling her pussy grip and release Blake’s cock in a wild, pulsing rhythm. “Good God, baby,” Blake said from between clenched teeth, his cock swelling in her pussy as Kane’s swelled in her mouth. They were about to come. The thought started the pulsing pleasure coursing through her all over again, arching her back and tilting her hips further, giving Blake the best possible access. Through the feral haze of pleasure, she was still aware that she must not hurt Kane, so she kept her teeth away from him while she sucked and milked him with her mouth and throat, teasing his balls with her fingers. Kane’s entire body went rigid, his balls tight and throbbing in her palm, and he came at last in long, sweet pulses, his cock jerking in her mouth, her name spilling from his lips. At the same time, Blake plunged his entire length into her, his body shuddering as he came. Samantha held Kane in her mouth until she was sure she’d drawn every last, salty drop from him, then released him gently and laid her head down on his thigh. She wasn’t sure her arms would hold her up anymore. Blake withdrew from her carefully, holding her trembling hips. Kane met her gaze, smiled broadly and opened his arms.

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“Come here, baby.” She moved forward and he pulled her up onto his damp chest, wrapping his arms around her tightly. Blake lay down beside them, running his long fingers down her back. Samantha lay still, her breath still coming in gasps and pants, and put her head down on Kane’s chest, snuggling closer and closing her eyes. In that moment, she knew—as certainly as her heart beat and her lungs drew breath—that she belonged to Blake and Kane Damsen. The knowledge emerged from the recesses of her psyche without the slightest hint of fear or uncertainty. She had a second to hold the feeling close before her old worries began to crowd the perimeter of her consciousness. Flashes of her parents’ angry, sad expressions and the sounds of their raised voices as they faced each other down paraded through her memory. She frowned inwardly, frustrated with herself, and pushed at the demons. Hadn’t they dogged her long enough? She drew in a deep breath, trying to let the comforting scents and sensations around her draw her back to the present. She had almost succeeded and was drifting toward sleep when Kane patted her arm. She murmured a protest into his shoulder but he persisted. “Baby, we should get your things before it gets too late,” he said softly. “It won’t be crowded now. Nobody will know.” “Can’t it wait until morning?” she asked blearily. He was so warm. Blake chuckled softly. “In the middle of a shift change? The whole ship’ll be out and about then. It’s okay. I’ll do it,” he volunteered, and she felt the bed shift beside them as he moved to stand. Damn. Well, if she was going to stay here with them, she guessed he was right. Better that she emerge in the morning fully dressed and ready, as though from a quick breakfast with her fellow officers, than try to sneak to her quarters, looking like—well—like she’d had a night of fabulous sex. Kane rolled her off his chest and put her down on the bed gently, almost reluctantly. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, yawned and stretched. Blake stood and walked into the bathroom. She watched him go, her eyes lingering possessively on his superbly muscled ass.

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“You don’t need to do that, Blake. Let me throw on some clothes and I’ll go,” she called after him. Kane grabbed her elbow. “Oh no, you won’t. At least one of us is going with you. We don’t know where that sicko who sent you the vidcard is.” Damn. He just had to remind her, didn’t he? Samantha nodded, scooting to the edge of the bed and testing her shaky legs. “All right, then. Shall we make a party of retrieving my hairbrush? Do you still want to go, Blake?” Samantha asked, marveling at how natural it felt to include both of them. “Yes,” Blake said, walking out with a towel in his hands, “I do. First, though, we have to talk.” Something about his tone, serious and final, set a squadron of butterflies loose in her stomach. Had all of those feelings of rightness—the comfort, the certainty— had all of that been just a hormone-fueled product of her imagination? Had they felt any of it or had it just been her? Did they want her to choose between them? Her heart fell. That must be it. They’d wanted to know which of them was better in her dream, hadn’t they? Maybe the sex had been a test tailor-made for her, to see which of them she wanted. If it had been, she’d failed. She’d never be able to choose. Blake and Kane Damsen just went together. Period. She took a deep, fortifying breath. “Okay, then,” she said, and was proud when her voice didn’t tremble.

Blake couldn’t repress a sigh of relief. She looked anxious but prepared to listen— which was how they needed her to be. “Sam,” he said gently, wanting to dispel her anxiety, “you didn’t do anything wrong.” Her expression immediately turned to one of confusion and regret. She hadn’t heard a word he’d said. “No, I knew better. We shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have let things get so carried away. I can’t believe—” The words came out in a rush, surprising him, and he pressed a

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finger over her lips to shush her. She blushed, and for a second he thought—or hoped— she’d take his finger in her mouth. But her lips pressed tightly together and the moment passed. “I’m not talking about you, beautiful,” he said, tapping her lower lip reproachfully when she opened her mouth to speak. Her lips were so soft, he would have given anything to stop this conversation and just kiss her, as though he could communicate his feelings by touch alone. But he and Kane had to tell her about their psychic connection sometime. The sooner the better, he reasoned. He closed his eyes, searching for the right words, the ones that would make her understand. Just tell her the truth, Kane said through their mental connection. He paused, undecided, and her gaze grew more distant. Behind her, his brother growled at him. Samantha’s eyes widened and Blake shot Kane a furious glance. “He’s not mad at you, Sam. He’s impatient with me.” Samantha looked from him to Kane warily. Great, now they’d scared her. He took a step back to give her some space and his breath caught in his throat. She was so beautiful, her hair mussed, her skin slightly flushed, her lips swollen from their kisses. Her stance was firm, her green eyes fraught with indecision. If she walked out that door right now, they would lose her. Lose her. His heart twisted as the full impact of the situation settled in. He and Kane had fallen for her so fast and so hard—and so long ago. He still remembered the first time they’d eaten together. She had babbled endlessly about Twyla, the then-cuttingedge spin-drive, her green eyes shining with the excitement of a child who’s gotten a brand-new toy. Instantly smitten with her, he and Kane had sat across from her and not eaten a bite the entire meal. She was a stunning, smart, incredibly capable woman. And until now, she’d been beyond their reach. He and Kane had guessed her rule about dating crew members and they understood it. As desirable as she was, doing so would compromise her authority with an otherwise exclusively male crew. The vast majority of the crew respected her, but there were a few who were not so happy about being turned down. The First Officer, for one, though Blake had been able to stem most of

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John’s efforts to make her life difficult early in their deployment. Blake had often wondered if it would be different if she married someone. Like him. And Kane. His body still burned from her hot, soft touch. She was so responsive to them—both of them. She accepted their touch so naturally, as if she belonged to both of them. Yet there was so much she had to understand and accept before they dared hope she’d stay. God knew, now that he knew what it was like to hold her, to touch her, to have her wild with need for them, and her whimpers—God, those little, soft cries she made as he’d thrust in and out of her. No, he could never go back. What he wanted was to convince her that they could build something on tonight—something lasting. That it hadn’t just been a fluke or a mistake. Blake just hoped to the heavens his timing wasn’t off. “Sam, I know it feels awkward,” he began, his voice sincere. “Please, just talk this out with us. At least so we can go to work tomorrow without feeling like robots around each other.” Okay, now he was pleading. And, he thought as he stared into her thoughtful, emerald-green eyes, he didn’t really care. The pin-drop silence that followed, though short, was torturous. Then she exhaled heavily, releasing the tension in her body, and sat cross-legged next to Kane, who rose up on one elbow. He watched her carefully as she rested her forehead on her hand, her toes curling and uncurling nervously. Her toenails were painted a purple so dark it was almost black in the dim light. Kane, he noticed, was staring at her feet and had covered himself to the waist, trying to conceal his erection. Kane had always thought her tiny feet were adorable. “Samantha,” Kane began, leaning forward slightly but not daring to touch her. “I just can’t,” she said in a broken voice, surprising them both. Her eyes were wide with distress. “Can’t what, baby?” Blake asked, caught totally off guard. He had no idea what she meant. What was going on in that head of hers?

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“I can’t do this. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t even be here, but I couldn’t—can’t—bring myself to stay away. I know what you want, but I can’t choose between you,” she said miserably, blinking and rubbing her eyes. “Is that what you think we want?” Kane asked incredulously. She looked from him to Blake, frowning, her expression confused. “Um…isn’t it?” She swiped at her damp eyes, her brow furrowed. Blake could have smacked himself. Of course that’s what she’d think. He reached for the box of tissues on the table and sat on the edge of the bed, offering her one. “No, Sam,” he said kindly. “That’s not it at all. You don’t have to choose. Kane and I, we’re a package deal. That’s what I wanted to talk about.” Samantha frowned at him and reached for a tissue. “Go on,” she said softly.

Kane did the talking, watching Samantha’s reactions carefully as he spoke. It didn’t take long. It seemed ludicrous that a secret as big as theirs could take so little time to explain. He offered no opinion or justification of what he said, just spoke the facts. Throughout his explanation of his and Blake’s psychic connection, Samantha listened, a neutral expression on her face. He knew she was processing what he told her in her careful, methodical way, looking at it from all angles. When he was finished, she lay back on the pillows and drew her knees up, staring at the ceiling thoughtfully and tapping her teeth with her fingernail the way Kane had seen her do so many times when she was working through something in her mind. Well, she doesn’t seem creeped-out and she’s not looking at us as though we need to be medicated, he observed silently to Blake. Not yet, anyway, Blake responded. Kane rolled his eyes at Blake. Always the pessimist. Samantha’s voice cut through the silence. 44

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“You’re doing it now, aren’t you?” For a second, Kane just stared at her uncomprehendingly. Talking with Blake was so ordinary to him that he’d not even realized they were doing it. “Let me guess. You’re taking bets as to whether I’ll call medical?” she asked, grinning. “Actually,” he coughed, “yes.” She gestured for him to continue. “So? Should I call medical?” He shrugged, returning her slight smile. “As Communications Officer, I’m guardedly optimistic that you won’t. The Helmsman over there thinks it’s irresponsible to draw a conclusion without further data,” he finished, gesturing dismissively at Blake. For the first time since the previous night’s dinner, she burst out laughing. He smiled broadly. It was a good sign. “It’s a lot to take in, Samantha. If you want time to think, we understand,” Blake said, his voice neutral. Kane wanted to throttle him—his twin was always so diplomatic, so pragmatic. Kane was more comfortable in uncertain waters. And less patient, Blake reminded him. How many times have I pulled you back from the edge by the seat of your pants? And how many times did I save you from sitting on your ass analyzing things until it was too late? Kane shot back. He realized Samantha was watching them closely. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. She waved away his apology, her expression thoughtful. “Can you block each other out?” “Sometimes,”

Kane

replied.

“It’s

a

lot

harder

with

strong

emotions

or…um…sensations.” “Oh,” she said softly, her face reddening. Kane grinned, unable to help himself. Her blush made for an adorable contrast with the wild, passionate creature he’d seen emerge in her earlier.

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“So I suppose that sort of rules out having separate love lives?” she probed. Good question. He looked at Blake ruefully. “We tried that. It was… It didn’t work out,” he answered. Kane snorted. That was an understatement. Samantha looked from him to Blake and Kane could tell she’d accepted the most important truth about the twins Damsen. She could have both…or neither. Now it was just a matter of what she’d decide.

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Chapter Four Exhilaration warred with “what-ifs” in Samantha’s mind. It made sense now, why she’d never been able to choose between them. She’d always known, on some level, that there was no Kane without Blake, no Blake without Kane. She could love both or neither, but not one of them. Which is fine, a little voice in her head whispered, because you want both of them. In and out of bed. She shivered and crossed her arms over her breasts to hide her suddenly hard nipples. Sex with them had been amazing, beyond amazing. To be touched, kissed, loved—shared—by both of them was sublime. And if she could find her courage, she might just be able to have them in her life…maybe for good. She looked up and met Blake’s smoldering gaze, knew he’d guessed the direction of her thoughts. “We’d be an unconventional ménage, to say the least,” he began softly, “but think about it, Sam. We’re both crazy about you, we have been since the day we met you. You’d have two men devoted to you, who want to take care of you and see you happy.” Blake lifted one of her hands, stroking his thumb over her knuckles. Her whole arm tingled. Samantha looked to Kane, who took her other hand and did the same. She squeezed their hands and smiled, then let go. “Two men who just happen to be able to talk to each other psychically,” she finished, looking from one to the other. Kane shrugged and grinned. Blake smiled at her, his expression patient and sympathetic. “Take some time to think about it. Get used to the idea,” he suggested. She heard a growl from Kane, which he quickly cut off when she looked in his direction, replacing his frown with a solicitous smile. She laughed. She couldn’t help it. They were so

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perfect—Kane, the impatient, sometimes impetuous one and Blake, with his inexhaustible, thoughtful patience. “We’d rather you think about it now than get scared off later,” Blake said, seeming to speak more to Kane than to her. Samantha rose. She wanted to stay—she really, really did—but she needed some space to think. Space not occupied by the two most gorgeous, kind men she’d ever met. That, and she had an early morning shift. Reluctantly, she said, “I’d like to go back to my quarters for now. By myself.” Blake looked at her, disapproval on his face. Samantha understood, but it still annoyed her. Not that he wouldn’t want her to be by herself in her quarters, but that he had good reason to feel that way. “I’ll com you when I get there so you’ll know I’m safe,” she added. Blake hesitated one second longer, then she saw acquiescence in his eyes. He went with her to the door, Kane not far behind. She turned to face them when she reached the doorway, not sure what to say. How could she respond to what they’d given her—the most amazing sex she’d ever had and then the option…the possibility of not choosing between them. Of having both of these fabulous men in her life. Could it really work? Blake gave her one of those thousand-watt Damsen smiles that left her breathless. “Go to bed,” he said gently, urging her toward the door. “And stay there. I want you to take that four hours I offered you earlier. You can go in at oh eight thirty. I’ll com Langley right after you leave and tell him.” She hesitated. “How about if I com him? If you do, it’ll be all over the ship by midmorning,” she said worriedly, then felt guilty. They’d just poured their hearts out to her, and here she was, worrying about the crew finding out about their relationship. “I’m not showing favor,” Blake said reasonably, seeming not at all offended by her concern. “I’m ordering an overworked subordinate to take four hours rest. Go in at oh eight thirty. I’ll take care of everything.” Samantha looked at him thoughtfully, then conceded. 48

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“All right. Thank you.” “Any time. Want one of us to walk you to your quarters?” Samantha smiled. “You don’t give up, do you? Don’t worry, guys, I’ll call you when I’ve made the hundred-yard journey and am safely locked in.” Blake let her out the door and she headed for her quarters. She felt as if she were walking on air. Hobbling spin-drives and obsessed madmen notwithstanding, life was very, very good.

***** Blake and Kane were sitting at the table not thirty seconds later when the doorbell intercom buzzed. Exchanging a worried glance with his brother, Blake opened the door. Samantha was livid. “Somebody’s been in my quarters,” she hissed, her hands fisting by her sides. Anger boiled up in him. If it had been any other crewman, he would have simply grabbed his handheld and prepared to write up a report. Not trusting himself to speak, Blake motioned for her to lead the way. Samantha stomped down the corridor, her bare feet making almost no noise on the padded floor. When they reached the door to her quarters, she keyed in her entry code. “So much for infallible technology,” she grated, and the three of them stepped inside. At the sight of the wreckage, Blake felt a dangerous, cold fury settle in his gut, amplified by the echo of Kane’s rage in his mind. What might once have been a glass jewelry box was smashed on the floor. The circuit board of Samantha’s vid station—where all of her music, photos, movies and recordings would have been—lay in pieces on the small table in the corner. It looked as though someone had thrown something heavy through its screen. Probably the lacrosse trophy that now lay on the floor. Along with Samantha’s clothes, toiletries and God knew what else.

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Motioning for Kane and Samantha to stay by the door—he didn’t want her to cut her bare feet on the glass—Blake went to look inside her lavatory. When he saw what was inside, he whirled to face Kane, communicating in a flash what he’d seen. “Get her out of here. Now.” Kane grabbed Samantha firmly by the arm and led her through the open door. She struggled. “Wait! These are my quarters!” she argued, pulling against him. Blake guessed her outrage was less at them for shepherding her out than it was at whoever had trashed the place. He exchanged a glance with Kane, then said in the most reasonable tone he could muster, “Please, Sam, go with Kane. Whoever did this could come back, and we want you safe.” She stopped, shaking her head as though to clear it, and nodded at each of them in turn. “Okay, just let me get a couple of things. You’ll get out of here soon too, then?” she asked, and he smiled at her concern. “Yes,” he answered. Samantha stepped toward the bathroom. Blake and Kane jumped as one and caught her by the arms. “No, baby, you don’t want to go in there,” Kane said softly. She paused, frowning. When the silence stretched out uncomfortably, Blake added, “You don’t want to see what’s in there.” Her shoulders slumped, and all the fight seemed to go out of her. “Do I want to know?” she asked miserably. “No,” Blake said gently. “Not yet. Wait until you’ve had some sleep.” Nodding in defeat, Samantha went with Kane back to their quarters. When they were gone, Blake returned to the bathroom. Samantha’s lingerie was strewn all over the floor. Several pairs were crumpled and covered in a dried, white substance. Blake gritted his teeth, blood pounding in his ears. The sick fuck had wrapped his cock in her underwear and jacked off.

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And he was somewhere on this ship. Somebody he’d known for two years had either snapped or had been ill for a long, long time and he’d never suspected. Blake looked at the catastrophe around him, furious with himself. He would find the guy. We will find him, Kane corrected in his mind, his rage feeding Blake’s. Then, more quietly, At least she didn’t see the bathroom. Alone in Samantha’s quarters, Blake nodded his assent. There was no reason for her to see that. She already knew some asshole was after her—she didn’t need to know that whoever it was had spent some quality time with her underwear.

***** Once inside the Damsens’ quarters, Samantha went to the bed they’d so recently shared and curled up into a ball. Kane’s heart twisted. There was something deeply troubling about seeing a strong woman run out of reserves. “All my stuff,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. “Just things, I know, but they meant a lot. Where am I going to stay?” “With us,” he answered simply. Samantha paused a moment as though considering, then nodded and gave him a grateful, if wan, smile. “My vids, my music, my clothes. Even my damn lamp! What did he have against a lamp? And what the hell was in the bathroom that I couldn’t see?” Wanting to respond but not knowing what to say, Kane lay down beside her, curling his body protectively around her small frame. “Baby, you have got to get some sleep.” He paused, reflecting ruefully that it was at least partially his and Blake’s fault that she was so tired. “Try to forget it—just for now. Blake will start investigating tonight,” he began. When she turned to him with an alarmed expression, he added quickly, “He’ll be safe. And discreet.” The worried creases in her expression relaxed a fraction. “Awful as all of this seems, we can confront it all in the morning, the three of us, together,” he finished gently. After what seemed 51

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like an eternity, she nodded and silently curled up against him. No matter the circumstances, her body felt heavenly against his. She was quiet for so long that he thought she’d gone to sleep when she said, “He’ll get bolder.” A shudder went through her body and her hand went to her mouth. “He’ll come after you guys.” Kane tipped her chin up with his knuckle so he could look into her eyes. “No one has to know about this—not until we’re ready for him. We’ll be careful, Sam. We’ll be safe. We’ll keep you safe.” He kept his gaze steady, watching the turmoil of her emotions war with exhaustion in her eyes. Finally, exhaustion won out. He relaxed. “Now sleep,” he ordered, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back gently. “All right.” She blinked tiredly, then yawned. “Can I borrow something to sleep in? These clothes are getting uncomfortable, and if I get naked again, we won’t get any sleep.” Kane grinned his agreement and reluctantly left her side. From the bedroom closet, he retrieved a soft, button-down shirt of his. He tried not to think about how she was going to look in it and failed miserably. She was sitting up in the bed when he returned. “Will that do?” he asked, holding the shirt up for her inspection. She smiled gratefully. “Awesome.” He handed her the shirt. She scooted off the bed and went to the bathroom to change. He grinned, amused by her modesty. Of course, it worked in his best interest. She was right—if she got naked again, they would get no sleep. He swiped a hand down his face. What a fucking mess. A damaged spin-drive and a psycho on board. A psycho who happened to be fixated on Samantha. Their Samantha, he amended. Well, at least the research class vessel would arrive with the replacement spin-drive tomorrow, and that would eliminate one of those problems. Twenty hundred hours tomorrow couldn’t get here fast enough. 52

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He propped his head on his hand and let himself drift while he waited for her to return. He must have drifted off, because the next thing he knew a small hand was tugging on his sleeve. “Wake up and get under the covers. It’s cold in here.” For a second, Kane could only stare. Her face was pink from washing and she smelled of his soap. Her dimples were irresistible. Her hair fell in loose, lush waves down her shoulders. And most of all, she was wearing his shirt. Somewhere, sometime, he must have seen a woman look that sexy. He just couldn’t remember when. “Okay, hang on,” he said, starting up from the bed. He walked to the room temperature controls and turned up the heat. On his way back to the bed, he placed extra safety codes on the door. Blake would know them, and if he couldn’t remember, he could just dig around in Kane’s mind until he found them. He pulled off his shirt and went to the bed. He pulled the covers aside, crawled in beside her, and drew her close. She tucked herself tightly against him without hesitation, her body warm and pliant against his. He couldn’t help the erection that swelled against her belly. She chuckled and wriggled against him. “Keep that up and you’ll get more than you bargained for,” he warned. “I already have,” she murmured sleepily and snuggled against him. Within seconds, her breathing was deep and even. Kane lay awake for a long time, thinking. If any woman in the universe could love them both equally, could belong to both of them, it was Samantha. It was only a matter of time. But there were so many damn complications. It could piss off the crew and make her job difficult. Or it could make things even worse with this nutcase who was after her, risking all their lives. And then there was whatever was going on in her head. He knew there was something there, something from her past that kept her nervous about committing to them, but he was damned if he knew what it was.

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He reached out to Blake, who was trying to put her room to rights. He’d already photographed everything so they could go over the scene later. Blake’s dark mood seeped into him but he pushed it back. Here, brother. Kane offered Blake the image, the sensation of Samantha’s sleeping form, warm and soft in the circle of his arms. The scent of her hair, its silky texture, even the feel of her belly pressed against his still-hard cock. Content, he thought. That’s what he was in this moment—completely content. He felt his brother relax, his black mood rolling back. You gave her a shirt? Blake asked, approval in his voice. Kane sent his silent assent and sensed his brother’s tired sigh. I’ll do what I can here, then I’ll be back. I want the two of us with her, at least until morning. Then you and I can regroup, form a plan and notify the captain. What about your morning shift? Like Samantha, Blake had been scheduled for an early shift. John agreed to take it for me. He owes me a favor, Blake said, relief in his voice. Still, there was a speculative note, reluctant but there, when he mentioned the other crewman’s name. I know, Kane said. Sucks, wondering who the hell you can trust. Samantha sighed in her sleep and grasped his biceps with long, slender fingers, her brows drawing together as though she were having a bad dream. Kane forgot everything else. “Shhh,” he murmured, stroking her hair in what he hoped was a soothing motion. Blake made the mental equivalent of a snort and groused, I should’ve made you stay over here and investigate while I took care of her. Kane smiled but didn’t reply to Blake’s jibe. Samantha’s eyes opened halfway and she looked up at Kane, disoriented. “Where’s Blake?” she asked, her voice groggy. Kane kissed her forehead. “He’ll be here soon, baby. Go back to sleep.”

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Just come back soon. She misses you, Kane told his brother. Blake’s voice was tinged with humor. Don’t worry, an army couldn’t keep me away.

***** Samantha awoke to the smell of—was that coffee? Real coffee? Her eyes flew open as memories from the night before crowded into her consciousness, accompanied by a mixture of conflicting emotions. Coffee first, she thought firmly, remembering the cup Blake had made for her yesterday. The rest could wait until her brain fog cleared. Blake and Kane were both sitting at the table, both wearing sweats and drinking coffee. She let her eyes drift appreciatively over their big, muscular bodies. Kane was working on a holoscreen, manipulating waveform lines she recognized as a representation of a sound transmission. His jaw was tense with concentration, the muscles in his arms and chest rippling as he lifted several nearly flat lines from the pattern, leaving only the bolder lines hovering in the air before him. Probably, she thought, the lines represented static. Kane erased them with a swipe of his finger, leaving a set of overlapping wavelines. These he separated out, making a stack of parallel lines in front of him. He sat back to study them, his face intensely focused. She’d seen Kane clean up sound transmissions before, and she’d always thought it fascinating to watch his mind work. It was so easy for him to “see” sounds. Blake sat across from him reading from a flat screen he was holding and occasionally making marks on it. She couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, but she guessed he was plotting a course around the binary stars she’d seen on the main screen several days before. He was just as focused on his work as Kane, but Blake’s body language was less tense, his face more relaxed. Kane was a bundle of tightly packed energy, Blake was more laid-back. They complemented one another nicely. Samantha realized she didn’t feel at all out of place or awkward here. She fit.

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I could stand to wake up to this every morning, she thought absently, watching the muscles in Kane’s bare torso move beneath his bronze skin as he worked. Blake looked up, giving her a broad smile that rocked her world. “Well, it’s about time. Your snoring was ruining my concentration,” he said, his smile curving just slightly into a grin. Samantha resisted the temptation to throw a pillow at him. “I do not snore,” she replied with mock-indignation. “It’s cute,” Kane said lightly, glancing her way and doubling the effect of Blake’s smile with his own. “I like it.” She opened her mouth to protest further, but Blake motioned her to the table. The chair she’d occupied the night before was piled high with laundry. Blake reddened, gathered up the clothes and stood. He put them in the chute in the kitchen, then got a mug down from the cabinet. “Coffee, beautiful?” Samantha finger-combed her hair self-consciously. No doubt he was being polite. “Please.” He poured her a cup from the coffeemaker. She took it from his hands reverently, as though he were giving her a set of diamonds. This deep in space, a genuine cup of coffee was worth about the same amount. The sludge that came out of the dispensers couldn’t really be called coffee at all. “Black, like you like it,” he said. Samantha goggled. “Thank you.” She stared at the cup. “Are you going to drink it?” Kane asked, shutting down his holoscreen. He rested his elbow on the table and gave her a mischievous look. A little thrill went through her. She took a sip and swallowed, sighing with pleasure. She set the cup down and leaned her head back, closing her eyes. “I might live through the rest of the day now,” she

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groaned contentedly. As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she remembered the events in her quarters from the previous night. “Oh God,” she moaned, covering her face with her hands. “My quarters. Nut case on the ship. Twyla falling apart. You guys in danger.” Blake leaned forward and put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t think about that right now.” She looked at him wearily. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.” “Then think about this,” Blake replied, taking a seat next to her. Watching her reaction carefully, he reached for her and drew her onto his lap. She went willingly, shifting her legs at the last second so that she straddled him on the chair. Surprise flickered in his eyes and was quickly replaced by hunger. He toyed with the buttons on her shirt. “I like you in this,” he purred, cupping her breast and squeezing gently. She arched into his hand, her breath catching in her throat in spite of her worries. He smiled, an almost self-satisfied expression, sliding her farther up his lap and settling her against a considerable erection. She felt the heat of his hard cock, even through his sweats. Samantha moaned softly, her nails digging into his strong back. “Like that, baby?” She nodded breathlessly and heard Kane’s pleased growl behind her. Kane moved to her side and put one finger under her chin, coaxing her to face him and bringing her mouth to within an inch of his. His lips brushed hers, his tongue flicking out to taste her mouth. She moaned softly and cupped his face in her hands. He tasted of mint and coffee—both exquisite and rare in the endless dark of space. Just like the twins, she thought distantly. Kane stood and moved behind her, gathering her hair to the side. A gentle nip at her nape sent a violent shiver through her. Blake undid the buttons of her shirt and stroked a nipple with his thumb. His light gray eyes held hers as he lowered his mouth to her breast, laving and suckling. Kane stepped behind her and she leaned back, resting her head on his stomach to give Blake better access. She felt Kane’s big erection 57

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pulse between her shoulder blades and whimpered, remembering what it felt like to be filled and stretched with Blake’s cock. Would Kane feel the same? Her pussy was weeping. She knew Blake must feel that, even through the material that separated them. A small whimper escaping her throat, she arched into Blake’s mouth, feeling rather than hearing his soft chuckle. “You’re soaking through my sweats, love. Lift her up, Kane,” he murmured against her nipple. Samantha had only a second to realize what was happening before Kane swept her up in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck reflexively, not bothering to cover herself. She looked from one twin to the other as Blake stood, backing away from the table and slowly, deliberately pushing his chair up, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully. He had a look in his silver eyes she’d never seen before— dark, commanding, almost arrogant. It made her blood run hot. He walked to the bed, never taking his gaze from hers, and lifted a knee onto the mattress. “Bring her to me,” he said in a voice so low it was almost a growl. Samantha shivered but didn’t protest as Kane carried her to the bed. She looked up at him, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck, caught between anticipation and trepidation. His blue eyes were ravenous, his gaze as unfathomable as Blake’s. What did they have planned? As though sensing her uncertainty, Kane tucked her more securely against his powerful chest, one corner of his mouth lifting in a wry smile she couldn’t help returning. Some of the butterflies in her stomach settled. He leaned down and kissed her softly, whispering against her lips. “You smell so good. Are you going to let me inside that sweet pussy of yours?” Samantha nodded, words failing her, and nipped his lower lip gently. His lips curved against hers in a satisfied smile. She could feel her pulse in her swollen, aching core as she watched Blake slide to the head of the bed, seating himself against the pillows. He left his pants on, but the tip of his erection poked just above the waistband as he spread his legs and opened his

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arms, beckoning her. Kane knelt on the bed and handed her to Blake, who set her down between his legs. He helped her out of Kane’s shirt, tossing it to the side. Gripping her hips firmly, he slid her back. He grasped her shoulders and coaxed her to lie down against his belly, settling his erection firmly between her shoulder blades. Unable to resist, she wriggled against him playfully. His cock jerked against her and his pained groan was echoed by Kane, who had moved to the foot of the bed and was sliding his sweats off. “Stop that, woman,” Blake ground out between clenched teeth. She was about to reply when Kane stepped out of his pants. The sight of his hard cock springing free rendered her momentarily unable to breathe. Looking for all the world like a big cat on the prowl, he climbed onto the bed, approaching her on all fours. She stared, wide-eyed and frozen, prey in the thrall of his azure gaze. In a move from behind that caught her completely off guard, Blake slid his hands through her elbows and behind her back, pinning her arms and arching her back with his forearms. She squeaked with surprise and struggled reflexively for a second. Then he lifted his powerful legs over hers and spread her legs wide with his own. “Blake,” she protested, trying ineffectively to twist in his grasp. She found herself completely unable to move and, to her total surprise, unbelievably aroused by that fact. Kane moved up to kneel between her legs, taking her face in his hands, his gaze penetrating all her defenses. In the short silence that followed, she swore she could hear her heart pounding. “Sam,” he said, his tone gentle and firm, “we would never hurt you. Say the word and he’ll let you go.” But it wasn’t fear or Blake’s muscular grasp that had her breath coming in wild gasps—it was bewildered shock. She liked this—really, really liked it—a reaction she’d never have predicted. A reaction, she realized, born of trust. Was she really ready for that? She opened her mouth to speak and closed it again, feeling completely off balance. Then Kane’s soft mouth covered hers, his tongue and teeth teasing her lower lip, his

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thumbs stroking her cheeks, and she decided she could think later. Wide open, utterly vulnerable, unable to move, she wanted desperately—and only—for the man kneeling in front of her to fuck her. Now. Kane broke the kiss and she moaned in protest, torn between begging for release and waiting to see what he did next. He looked at her sympathetically. “Need a little relief?” She whimpered and nodded gratefully, wondering that he could read her so easily. Blake spread her legs wider and shifted behind her. “Some men can drive a woman to distraction with their hands, others with their cocks,” Blake said in a tone that was almost conversational as his brother leaned forward and took one of her breasts into his mouth, stroking her nipple with his tongue. Samantha groaned and would have arched into the sweet heat of his mouth had she been able to, but Blake held her firm. She was too undone by the sensation of Kane’s hot, wet tongue circling her nipple to wonder at the strangeness of Blake’s words. “Want to know what Kane’s good with?” he asked. She nodded, breathless, her attention torn between the sexy, gravelly pitch of his voice and the hot trail of kisses Kane was drawing down her belly. They both paused, Kane looking up into her eyes as his brother spoke behind her. “His tongue,” Blake whispered. She started to shiver uncontrollably, watching as Kane kissed the triangle of curls just above where she ached and burned for him. “Shhhh,” Blake soothed, transferring her wrists to one hand so he could stroke the side of her face with the other. Her body calming under his touch, Samantha laid her head back against his chest, turning her face into his palm and kissing the center. Kane licked her slowly, exploring from the base of her lips to her throbbing clit. Every stroke of his talented tongue was an act of possession, owning her as thoroughly and gently as Blake held her. She wanted desperately to grind against him but Blake kept her still. Once again, it surprised her how much being held motionless turned her on. Kane cupped her clit with the tip of his tongue and she heard herself cry out his

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name, a wild plea that echoed in the room, but he didn’t let her come. Then he was kissing her and she could taste herself on his lips—all sex and want and hunger. “Do you want me to fuck you?” Kane’s question hung in the air. It took her fogged mind a moment to decode the words. Her eyes drifted open and she met his ravenous blue gaze. He was kneeling in front of her, his face inches from hers. “Yes,” The word slipped from her mouth in a rush. His cock twitched, bobbing gently between his spread legs. In a mirror motion, Blake’s cock jerked against her spine. When he didn’t immediately move, she wanted to scream. Quickly, she added, “Please fuck me. Please, right now.” Kane’s big body covered hers and he slid into her slowly, his hot, hard cock filling her, owning her as Blake had the night before. Blake held her gently from behind, groaning as the motion of Kane’s thrusts rocked her back against him. It felt so very right, being between the brothers, surrounded and filled by their warmth, covered in their scent, overwhelmed by their muscular bodies. She swore she could feel the blood running through her veins, liquid pleasure that swirled and coalesced wherever her lovers’ touches summoned it. “Let go, baby,” Kane whispered against her lips, anchoring her hips against his and grinding his cock deep into her. He was so incredibly hard and she knew he was right on the edge with her. “We’ve got you.” His low baritone, threaded with the slightest of tremors, set off something inside her and her world shattered into a thousand shining pieces. She cried out, clinging to his powerful, broad shoulders, letting him anchor her through the storm of sensation. His roar of release joined her cry, echoing in the small room. Behind her, Blake released her hands, sweeping her hair over her shoulder and resting his hands there, holding her securely as he ground against her bare spine. He came a split second after Kane, his cock jerking between her shoulder blades. Smiling, she wriggled gently against him, enjoying the slick wetness between them and the aftershocks running through his fine musculature. “Beautiful,” Blake murmured, kissing the side of her neck.

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Still trembling, Samantha pulled Kane’s face to hers, raining kisses on his neck and along his jaw. She cupped his face in her hands and seized his mouth for a long moment, making a small sound of delight when he took over the kiss, gentling her, at last slipping his thumb in between them, pressing it to her lower lip. Slightly dizzy, her heart still pounding, Samantha met Kane’s blue eyes. He rubbed her chin with his thumb. “Awake now, baby?” Blake purred softly behind her. “Mmm.” Blake tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “You hungry, love? You didn’t have anything except coffee, which is now…” he turned and looked over at the mug guiltily. “Cold.” “Don’t care,” she said, her face muffled in Kane’s chest. “This…better.” Her stomach growled loudly. Kane laughed. “I’ll make us something.”

***** As Kane fussed over the stove after a short shower, Blake lay naked beside Samantha on the bed. She’d turned on her side to watch his brother and he curled his body protectively around hers, rubbing her smooth hip, appreciating the long expanse of flawless skin from the curve of her waist to the tips of her toes. She turned and looked back at him with her exotic, green eyes and he felt his insides turn to mush. There was nothing he could have denied her in that moment. She ran her fingertips through the fine hair on his chest and looked thoughtful. “Worried?” he guessed. She nodded, then turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. “Anything in particular?” She laughed ruefully. “Everything in particular. The spin-drive, the crew’s safety, whoever trashed my room last night, and…well…” She turned her head to look at him. 62

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“About what this means—for us, for the future.” She made a sweeping gesture that included the three of them then interlaced her fingers, resting her hands on her belly, just above that cute little navel he wanted suddenly to explore with his tongue. He was slightly embarrassed to feel himself stiffen against her. Would he ever get enough of this woman? “We’ll figure it all out,” Blake reassured her, trying to think of something— anything—other than her smooth skin beneath his hands. “Thanks,” she said, her voice so low he could barely hear her. “But I’m not sure if that’s possible.” When she met his gaze, he saw his arousal mirrored in her eyes—but he saw confusion and worry there too. “I didn’t say the outcome would be exactly what we’d expected,” he told her gently. “Just that we’d work it out. Together.” Blake watched her expression carefully as she looked from him to Kane. “What do you mean by ‘together’, exactly?” “I mean,” he said, laying his hand on her shoulder, “that there’s no way Kane and I would ask you to deal with this alone. It’s too big for one person.” “Thanks, but again, I’m not sure if there’s much you guys can do to help.” “Au contraire, chérie,” Kane said gallantly, dramatically sweeping three plates onto the table. “Zere ees much we can do to ’elp.” Samantha stood, Blake behind her, and cringed. “You can start by getting rid of the accent.” He looked crestfallen as he handed her the shirt she’d slept in. She took it gratefully, wrapping it around her body and studying the buttons. “I’m sorry, dear man,” she said, suppressing a smile, “but it’s horrible.” Kane’s voice resonated in Blake’s mind. At least she didn’t say no. His tone lifted. And she called me “dear man”. “Er… What’s for breakfast?” Samantha asked solicitously, taking a seat at the table. She let her fork hover over the questionable mass on her plate.

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Blake suppressed a laugh. Kane didn’t cook often—for a reason. “It’s a Kane Damsen special,” he replied. “Believe it or not, you’re looking at an omelet.” She smiled at Kane, who was twisting the towel in his hands. Blake had never seen his brother like this—anxious to please. Kane was a driven, perfectionistic man, but he held himself to his own standards, not anyone else’s. It was mildly amusing. Sensing the direction of his thoughts, Kane shot him a dirty look. “I’m sure it’s great,” she said politely. Blake smiled at her. Bless her, she was trying hard not to hurt Kane’s feelings. She bravely dug into the “omelet” and chewed thoughtfully. “You never told me what you found in my bathroom,” she said to him, changing the subject, her tone deceptively light. Blake’s stomach tightened. Damn. He’d hoped to stay away from that particular subject for a while. He’d discussed the break-in with the captain this morning, but hadn’t wanted to talk about it with Samantha until it was absolutely necessary. That time had arrived, he supposed. He put down his fork and pushed away his plate, far less concerned than she about hurting his brother’s culinary ego. “I don’t think whoever was in there was looking for something valuable. I think the destruction was personal—directed at you. Most likely it was the same man who wrote the note and sabotaged the engine.” Samantha paled, but pressed on. “What makes you think that?” Her defenses were impressive, he thought. “The things that were broken were personal items—your things from home. There were tons of other things in there he could have gone after.” “I guess so. But those things are—were…” She paused, her voice wavering. “The most breakable things in the room. Anyway, it could have been a lot of people.” Kane started to interrupt but she held up her hand. “Just hear me out. My crew and I have been working around the clock on a seriously damaged—sabotaged…” She paused, as though saying the word cost her. “Engine. We lost a man in the explosion. That’s a lot 64

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for anyone to carry around. I’ve been tearing people to shreds left and right and I’m sure I left lots of them really upset. There’s a chance somebody’s just venting—that the damage in my room has nothing to do with the letter.” She sounded as if she’d almost convinced herself. Blake paused, thinking fast, trying to find a way around telling her what he’d discovered in her bathroom. The silence grew until she was looking at him pointedly, clearly aware that he was hiding something. “Just trust me, it was personal,” he ventured weakly, gesturing dismissively with one hand. The corners of her mouth tightened and her eyes narrowed. He knew that expression all too well—it was reserved for members of her team who made boneheaded mistakes. “Tell me what was in the bathroom, then,” she said coolly. “You’re not telling me everything.” “No, he’s not,” Kane said, his voice level, “because it’s disturbing.” Blake winced internally but he didn’t argue with Kane. Samantha needed to know more than any of them that this wasn’t some ordinary pissed-off crew member. And she needed to know that the man who’d written the note was willing to go after her personally. Very personally. She sat very still, waiting for one of them to continue, her face a mask of mild inquisitiveness. Blake found himself suddenly, almost irrationally proud of her. Word on the ship had it that four days ago, she’d taken one look at the smoking, ruined mess of her engine room, seen the horror and confusion in her unit’s eyes at the battered body of Jason Laos, turned around and started giving orders. Restoring what could be salvaged. Saving her feelings for later. He’d always admired that in her. Being afraid was only human. Being afraid and acting anyway was something extraordinary. The abrupt, staccato tapping of her fingernails on the table interrupted his thoughts. She was looking at both of them, her expression growing exasperated.

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“I do not want to be kept in the dark. About anything. I need to know. Blake, what did you find in the bathroom just before you sent me out?” He groped for the right words but Kane beat him to it. “Whoever broke in to your quarters spent some quality time with your underwear.” Samantha and Blake both winced. “Oh,” she said, her mouth tightening. “Splendid.” There was a long silence as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. Blake and Kane sat in silence, watching her closely. “Well,” she continued finally, “I guess I’d rather know what I’m dealing with.” “We, baby. What we’re dealing with,” Blake said softly, adding mentally to Kane, I wish she’d get that through her head. She will, Kane answered. Let her cope with one thing at a time. Let’s get this bastard first. “Anything else?” she asked, her eyes trained firmly on the table as though looking away made bad news easier to bear. “Just the things I’ve already said—that the things he broke were personal things,” Blake answered. He paused, a man preparing to deliver bad news. “Sam, I don’t want you leaving our quarters until this man is caught.” Her hand dropped to the table with a thud and she looked at him incredulously. She’s never gonna go for that, Kane told him in the brief silence that followed. “Right,” she said, her voice rising. “You want me to sit around here twiddling my thumbs all day? I don’t think so.” “No,” he said, his argument sounding weak even to his own ears. But he had to try. The thought of the man who’d sabotaged the engine and ruined her room getting his hands on her was beyond bearing. “You’ve done the major repairs. Twyla’s all right at the moment,” he reasoned. “Langley and his team can keep you apprised of the situation, and if they have a problem, they can conference with you on the vidscreen.”

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Samantha looked at him mutinously. Kane put his hand on her arm. Blake looked at his brother pleadingly. Help me out here. “Hey, it’s only for a day, two at the most,” Kane said. “And if you want company, I can do most of my work from here. It’ll be all right, Sam.” She smiled at him thinly, then pinned Blake with a challenging look. “I won’t hide away like some ninny because of some…some delusional man.” “Dangerously delusional, Samantha,” Blake said. “Blake,” Samantha said softly, keeping her tone carefully neutral. “I’m not risking another…accident…” Her voice trailed off briefly. “Like Jason’s.” He broke in. “Just having you there could make such an ‘accident’ more likely, you realize,” he said coldly. “Yes,” she said, flustered, “but I’m still the Chief of Engineering. I can’t just stay here doing nothing. Didn’t you get a security detail in there for that reason?” Blake gave her a hard look but she was undaunted. “Even with the schematics and the repairs we’ve already made, something could go wrong. If it does, our rendezvous with The Stronghold is going to be a hell of a lot more complicated for you, mister helmsman.” Blake felt his expression soften. It’s not gonna work, bro, Kane told him silently. I know. He could hear the despair in his own thoughts. I just want her safe. Samantha looked at him, her eyes narrowing. “I can go with her to Engineering,” Kane offered. The table fell silent and Blake let it stay that way, thinking hard. Could they keep her safe? If that bastard got hold of her… Don’t go there, Kane told him. He won’t. We won’t let it happen. Blake nodded, turning to the woman who had come to mean everything to him. He couldn’t believe what he was about to say. About to let happen. We can’t keep her in a box, Kane said in his mind. She has to know that. 67

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“Kane goes with you on your shift. You don’t leave his side,” Blake said aloud with more authority than he felt. “For any reason. Not even to use the bathroom. If anyone asks, he’s taking notes for the new drive installation.” Her eyebrows rose but she nodded, agreeing to his conditions without complaint. He suspected it had more to do with humoring him than it did with total obedience, but it would do. “Fine,” she and Kane said in unison. She pushed her chair back and stood, looking around the well-appointed room. “My uniform?” she asked. “I’ll go in civvies if I have to, but I’d rather wear something that won’t get snagged in the machinery.” “I brought it over last night from your quarters,” he said, giving her an appraising look. “And your brush is in the bathroom,” Kane added, looking pointedly at him. “I won’t have anybody ogling that beautifully mussed hair.” “Anybody else, he means,” Blake said airily, smacking her lightly on the ass. “Now go get in the shower.” “I know you didn’t just do that,” she said, her tone a mixture of outrage and amusement. He grinned. “Consider it a reprimand for insubordination.” Samantha glared at him, but the effect was ruined by the twitching corners of her mouth. She stalked to the bathroom.

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Chapter Five The water cascading over her shoulders was pure heaven. So much had happened since she’d last set foot in her own shower the night before. It was too overwhelming to think about and the water felt too good to ruin it with dark thoughts of her stalker. She decided instead to think about Kane and Blake. A memory of Kane drifted to the surface, his dark eyes watching her as he suckled and teased her breasts. She palmed her breasts, gently pinching her suddenly sensitive nipples, erect as though awaiting his touch. Then she remembered him above her, filling her to capacity with that amazing cock of his, the way he and Blake pulsed and trembled when they came. She slid one finger inside herself, palming her clit and shuddering. She was slick with arousal. Distantly, she heard a moan and realized it was her own. God, they were turning her into a sex addict. Lost as she was in thought, Samantha squeaked with surprise as the man replaced her fantasy, his mouth covering her breast and suckling deeply, his hand brushing hers aside to probe her hungry depths with consummate skill. Kane. Where Blake coaxed, teased and possessed her by slow, delicious degrees, Kane’s touch was demanding, intensely possessive, instantly bringing her to a fever pitch. “Samantha.” Her name was spoken with authority, a command. With anyone else, Samantha would have balked at the tone, but she just looked at him as he slowly reached out and turned off the water. She was tiny next to him. Everything about the way he handled her made her feel safe, protected. Even in the heat of ravenous, feral desire, he never hurt her. His hands moved constantly, reading her body’s responses, slowing down when she needed it and driving her higher when she was ready. Her pussy clenched around his fingers, pulling him deeper, a rush of wet warmth bathing his hand. An arm like a steel band wrapped around her lower back, bending

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her back to give him better access to her breasts. Samantha could only gasp and moan as he easily took over her body, drawing out sensations she’d never thought possible before last night. He lifted her up to claim her mouth with his own and she felt the hard length of him along her belly, teasing, promising. His fingers pushed deeper, his palm massaging her clit. He swallowed her moan with a smile. Her body, still damp from the shower, trembled with the force of her need, her skin hotly sensitive to the sensation of his wet, perfect body against hers. Samantha threw her head back, heedless of the hard tile behind her as he brought her to the precipice of orgasm. Then he froze, his hot body completely still against hers, his unmoving hand holding her back from the edge. She shook her head incoherently and whimpered, too far gone to beg. Samantha was caught between his heated skin and the cool tile, his mouth was plundering hers, the walls of her pussy squeezing his fingers in a death grip. She thought she might die of pure, overwhelming need. “Which do you want, baby—my hand or my mouth?” His fingers twitched inside her and she cried out with aching, torturous pleasure. “Or would you rather come all over my cock?” Everything female in her cried out with joy at the thought. She raked her fingers through his hair and kissed him desperately, nodding, murmuring her desire against his lips. Chuckling softly, he grasped her hips and lifted her, positioning his velvet head at her entrance. Breathing shallowly, she met his hungry gaze with complete trust in her heart.

It took all of Kane’s considerable restraint not to drive her down over him, to bury every inch of his thick cock in her. Generally speaking, he liked it hard and fast. But they had both taken her just hours before and she was bound to be sore. And then there were her gorgeous green eyes, watching him without fear or hesitation. There was something intensely peaceful and incredibly feminine about the way she was looking at him, content and trusting, like a woman in the arms of her chosen mate. Like a woman

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in love. He held his breath and blinked, not sure he’d seen correctly. But there it was again. Did she feel the same way about Blake? She wriggled her hips impatiently and nipped his ear. “Please don’t make me wait anymore.” Her eyes lit up as she spoke. As if he had any hope of resisting her. Gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut with restraint, he slowly lowered her over his cock. Like silk. She was like hot silk, gripping him so tightly it made him gasp. Sharing her with Blake was amazing, but part of him reveled in the pleasure of having her all to himself, sinking his cock into her welcoming body, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her round breasts heaving against his chest with her excited, rapid breaths. “Christ, you are tight,” he ground out through clamped teeth. She moaned softly and locked her ankles around his waist. He was almost seated in her when she winced and stiffened slightly. “You okay? We can stop.” She shook her head so vehemently that her wet curls whipped across his jaw. “No, no. Please don’t stop.” He didn’t, seating himself in her fully, waiting for her to relax. Only when she began to grind against him, putting her hands on his chest, trusting him to hold her up, did he dare move in her. He filled her in long, slow strokes, watching as sensation and emotion, pleasure and passion, kaleidoscoped in her eyes. Her expression concealed nothing from him, completely open and accepting. Her trust was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and the fact that she was giving it to him filled him with awe. He shared the sight with Blake, careful to block out everything else. Not because Blake would be jealous, but because the bridge frowned upon spontaneous orgasms. Jesus, she blocks out the stars, Blake murmured in their shared mental space. He sensed Blake’s impatience to be done with his shift and come home to her. Take good care of her, Blake told him silently, then blocked off the connection. 71

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As Kane moved deep in her, Samantha’s hands wandered over him, exploring his chest, his arms, his neck and finally his face. He wanted to go faster, but he wanted to prolong the moment more—to watch her full, expressive lips curve and part, listen to his name, spoken over and over in her murmurs and cries, feel her tremble and gasp. He smiled, knowing she was unaware that she sank her nails into him each time he hilted in her. Finally, Kane knew he had reached the end of his restraint. He pulled almost out and seated himself in her in a single, powerful thrust. She cried out, clinging to him, the first pulses of her climax rippling around his cock. The sensation snapped what was left of his control and he rode her hard, burying himself in her over and over. He felt her orgasm build in strength until she was crying out mindlessly, her sweet little body wrapped tightly around his, her pussy stroking and milking him until he could wait no longer. He pinned her against the wall and plunged balls-deep into her, shuddering uncontrollably as he spilled his seed deep inside her.

Samantha was still gasping for air when Kane set her down in front of him. He held her steady against him until she could stand on her own, then let go of her carefully, holding on to her shoulders. With two fingers, he tilted her chin up and leaned down to kiss her, sliding his tongue gently over her deliciously swollen lips. “Stay here and don’t move,” he said, vanishing into the steam that still hung in the room. Still dazed, Samantha gazed after him like a love-struck fool. He returned with shampoo and soap and turned the water back on, moving her so that the spray fell soothingly on her chest and thighs. She heard him unsnap the top of the shampoo bottle. “You’re going to wash my hair?” He nipped her earlobe. “Hush.” She was too tired to protest and fell silent. He lathered her hair, then her body, paying close, gentle attention to the places that were sore. Samantha gave herself up to his ministrations, amazed at how sensuous such 72

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a simple act could be. His hands guided her, prompting her movements as he turned her this way and that under the spray. When he was done, he stepped her back, washed himself rapidly and turned off the water. She stepped out of the shower and stood with him in the dryer, where he rubbed her shoulders until the vents had done their job. By the time they walked out, Samantha was so relaxed she thought she might melt. “I’d do this too, but I’d probably rip out your hair,” he said, handing her the brush with a grin. She smiled back wryly and took it. “I appreciate that.” Kane grabbed a thin cotton robe off the door and wrapped it around her, then left to get dressed. The soft cloth pooled around her feet and the folds came around to her back. The ties were equally bulky and she finally gave up, letting the robe hang as it was. She was working the last of the rather painful tangles out of her hair when the door swung

open

and

Kane

returned,

holding

an

unlabeled

jar

of

apricot-

colored…something. Lotion? She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “And that would be…?” He knelt in front of her and parted the robe, catching her around her thighs when she tried to move back. “Be still.” He opened the jar. “Um…” she protested, trying once again to step away. “Trust me,” he said imploringly. “I do, but most lotions give me a rash.” Her voice rose to a note of panic at the end when he nudged her knees apart with his hand. She had a bad feeling she knew where he intended to put that stuff. Undeterred, he scooped the thick salve out with his fingers. “This won’t.”

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“It better not. You’ll hear about it twice a day until you’re ninety-five,” she threatened. Their gazes met as it dawned on them both what her words meant. “And twice on Sundays,” she finished meekly, trying to sound ominous. He held her gaze for a long moment with those bright, azure eyes, his expression so like his brother’s in that moment that it made her shiver His silent scrutiny was more unnerving than if he’d spoken aloud, and Samantha resisted the temptation to clench her hands nervously. “You’re sore, aren’t you?” he asked quietly. She nodded reluctantly. “This will take that away.” Samantha wasn’t sure she wanted to know just how he knew that. The question must have crossed her face, though, because he smiled mischievously. “Yes, we keep a bottle around just in case we feel like screwing a crewman silly.” She snorted inelegantly. “Blake picked it up from medical and dropped it off while we were in the shower,” he said matter-of-factly. Samantha’s eyes widened and she felt suddenly guilty, like she’d cheated on Blake. “He heard…?” “He wanted to join us but he had to get back,” Kane said, misreading her expression. She continued to stare at him, openmouthed. “Didn’t it bother him that I…that we…?” Kane laughed aloud as understanding dawned, the rich sound making her shiver and smile all at once. “You’ll have time alone with him, time alone with me and time with both of us.” This time her fists did clench in anxiety. “If you want to stay, that is,” he finished hastily. “I do,” she blurted. Jesus, what had she just said? The truth, she thought wildly. The scary truth. It wasn’t rational. Her childhood had been spent in a house with two parents whose marriage began in love and ended with savage rage and regret. Practically speaking, staying with the twins made her life ten times more complicated. But there it was. She wanted to stay. For a long time. Maybe for 74

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good, the little voice in her head whispered, but she silenced it, not ready to think that far ahead. “I just haven’t gotten my head around all of this. It’s so damn complicated,” she told him honestly. “Well, we haven’t exactly given you much time.” He nudged her knees again and this time she parted them, watching his hand suspiciously. His voice lowered a notch. “And it’s actually quite simple.” He turned his attention to his task and she fidgeted, still not sure about the salve. “For the last time, Samantha, stand still.” For some bizarre reason, the frustrated, commanding note in his voice turned her on. And the response wasn’t one-sided, she could see. Heat built in his eyes as he trailed one finger up the inside of her thigh, stopping just short of her trimmed patch of curls. Samantha held her breath and her heart sped up. It was amazing how fast he could heat up her body, how quickly he could make her want him. Badly. A rush of wet warmth coated the walls of her core, as though he—they—hadn’t just taken her… How many times? She watched, entranced, as Kane leaned forward and kissed her low on the stomach, his eyes never leaving hers. “Kane,” she protested softly, unsure if her legs would hold her. “Brace yourself against the sink.” She obeyed without thought and he followed her. He pushed the salve into her with two fingers and her eyes closed on a moan. She was sore, more so than she’d like to admit, and the stuff felt heavenly. When he slid his fingers out to get more from the container she felt the loss acutely, a small keening noise escaping her throat. Instantly, his mouth replaced his hand, his tongue flicking across her clit, lapping up the answering rush of wet heat from her pussy. His tongue vanished and he slid his fingers in again, pushing deeper to coat her inner walls with the soothing balm. Samantha moaned and ground against his fingers, holding tightly to the sink. She was dimly aware of Kane putting the container aside to turn his full attention to her, and then the world narrowed to Kane alone, his hands touching her, his mouth sucking, 75

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laving, teasing. He lifted her legs over his shoulders to brace her and settled in to feast, reaching up to palm her breasts, brushing the pads of his thumbs across her nipples. The salve on his fingers made them tingle and Samantha let her head fall back, murmuring and purring incoherently, trying to concentrate on her shaking arms. He stopped suddenly and she cried out as cool air replaced the warmth of his mouth. She looked down and met his wicked gaze, watching as he ran his tongue just above her weeping entrance, not touching her. A frustrated sound escaped her. “Please, Kane,” she begged, almost sobbing with need. Her body was on fire, her breasts heavy and sensitive in his hands, her pussy throbbing. “Please what?” he asked, blowing warm air across her clit. She felt like crying. He wanted her to articulate something? Now? “I want…” she began and stopped, unsure how to continue. “You want what?” he asked. Cruel man. “More,” she whimpered, unable to find any other words. It was enough. He sucked gently on her clit, growling his approval. She felt the vibration all the way to her toes and it threw her over the edge, crying out his name. It seemed to go on and on until she thought she’d die of pleasure right there in his arms. Her hands slipped on the sink and she would have fallen if he hadn’t caught her. When she came back to herself, Kane was sitting cross-legged on the floor, cradling her in his arms. She didn’t feel like moving. At all. “That. Was. Awesome,” she breathed. He chuckled softly, the sound of male satisfaction, then stood up, wrapped his robe around her again and carried her easily into the main room. He set her down on the bed in a heap, a very satisfied woman tangled up in what felt like twenty square yards of cotton. When she peeked up at him with half-lidded eyes, he smiled and gave her a thoughtful look. “Sorry, love, I didn’t plan on wearing you out. I can call in again and we can stay here, like Blake said.” She gasped and shot out of the bed. How had she managed to

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forget—everything? The engine, the stalker, her trashed quarters, everything? The Damsen twins seemed to have that effect on her. “No,” she said quickly. “I’m going to Engineering.” “Not in that, you aren’t,” he said, grinning. She looked down at the open robe and drew the edges closed with a huff. “Well, where’s my uniform, then?” He reached behind her and lifted it from the bed. He’d set her down on it and it was slightly wrinkled. Her nose twitched in irritation, but she supposed the wrinkles would smooth out when she put it on. She tossed the robe off and began to dress. “Do you want any help with that?” He stepped forward and reached out solicitously. She took a cautious step back. “No. Back up. I lose all focus when you’re around.” He smiled wickedly. “It’s going to be hard to do your job, then.” “You’re telling me,” she muttered, stepping into her underwear and fastening her bra. Then she stepped into the one-piece black suit, zipped up the front and began tugging on her boots. “What was that?” he asked, his tone bemused. She waved him off, quite sure he’d heard her anyway. “Nothing. Let’s go.” “So quickly forgotten,” Kane murmured with a sigh from behind her. She turned on her heel and let him collide with her, pulling his head down for a fast but passionate kiss. “Hardly,” she whispered. His eyes twinkled as he keyed in the code and opened the door, gesturing grandly for her to go first. She looked up at him as they entered the corridor. “Be good. Please?” she entreated in a whisper. “Always, dear,” he murmured back, his eyes darkening. Samantha felt her blood heat all over again and sighed. This was going to be a very long day. 77

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***** The ailing drive’s constant, metallic groan grew as the lift descended to the engine room. By the time they passed deck three, the noise was effectively hindering Kane’s attempts to think. Samantha touched his shoulder, her hand small and pale against his sleek black uniform. He stared at her, struck by the fact that she seemed unfazed by the din. Then she took his hand and dropped a pair of tiny plugs into his palm and her composure made more sense. They were a little more heavy-duty than those he used in the communications room but the aural adaptors served the same purpose. He smiled gratefully and put them in his ears. There was a brief but memorable sting in his inner ear as the biosensors connected with his auditory nerve, then the deafening noise was gone. When she spoke, Samantha’s voice seemed overly loud in the silence. “I’ve programmed a private frequency in these so we can talk without being overheard,” she explained. “If you want the general engineering frequency, tap twice.” She tapped her ear to demonstrate. “Ah, the modern age,” he said theatrically. “I don’t even have to be near you to whisper sweet nothings in your ear.” She rolled her eyes at him but a smile touched her lips. The lift shuddered to a halt and the doors began to open. Kane hit the override and the doors clamped shut again like a pair of enormous jaws, sealing them inside the lift chamber. Samantha turned to him, her expression curious. She stood close enough that she had to crane her neck to look up at him. Unable to resist, he caught her chin and planted a fast kiss on her mouth. At least, he intended it to be fast, but the small sound of surprised delight she made when his lips met hers enticed him to linger. Her hands clasped his shoulders and his drifted down to the small of her back, pressing her closer. The lift alarm sounded and she jumped, their noses banging. With a halfhearted curse, he slammed his palm against the override button, unable to keep from smiling as she dissolved into giggles.

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“Get a hold of yourself,” he chided with mock dignity. Samantha put her hand over her mouth and tried to look contrite. “All right. I’m okay now,” she said, smoothing the front of her uniform. “Can we go?” She turned expectantly toward the doors. “Hold on,” Kane said quickly, pressing his finger to his ear and speaking silently to Blake. Samantha frowned, confused. “I want Blake wired in too,” he explained. “I’ll need the frequency.” Samantha gave it to him and Kane relayed the information to his brother. In a matter of seconds, Blake’s voice came over the private link. “Sam?” His tone was low and intimate, more likely out of a need for discretion than anything else. All the same, Kane saw Samantha blush. “I’m here,” she replied in a soft voice. Her tone made her seem suddenly vulnerable and he drew her under his shoulder. At the sound of her voice, Blake exhaled. “Good,” he said simply, relief evident in his voice. “Kane?” Blake said aloud, mostly for her sake. They both knew Kane could hear him without the com. “Check.” “I still object to this. Strongly,” Blake said. Samantha nodded as though he could see her. “Objection noted, Commander.” “No, Sam, just Blake. As your ranking officer, I think this is a necessary risk. As your…” he trailed off, then continued awkwardly, “I just want you the fuck out of there. Right now.” Kane frowned inwardly, wondering what Samantha would make of what Blake had just said. What were they, anyway? Lovers? Something else? Something more? He brushed his thumb across her lips, smoothing out the soft pout there. Images of Samantha, gathered over the years he’d known her, filled his mind like so many snapshots. He knew Blake saw them too and he felt his brother clutch the mental

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pictures tightly, as though he could keep the real woman safe by guarding his memories and dreams of her. She’ll be fine, he reassured Blake, acutely aware of how flimsy the promise sounded. Kane sensed Blake gathering himself quickly, embarrassed, as though he hadn’t known he was projecting his concern so strongly. Of course she will. Conscious of Samantha’s suspicious regard, he swept his hand toward the doors. “Shall we, my dear?” She looked at him for a second longer, as if deciding whether or not to ask him something. To his relief, she let it go. “After you,” she said, gesturing toward the doors. Kane let go of the switch and the doors ground open, revealing a scene of total chaos. Kane took a fortifying breath and stepped into the engine room, Samantha behind him.

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Chapter Six Langley, her lieutenant, was the first to see them and he trotted over, smiling eagerly at her and casting a suspicious glance Kane’s way. Samantha smiled back, glad to see him. He might have the social skills of a tomato, but Langley was unfailingly loyal and capable. “What’s with the security detail?” he asked. Four guards were posted around the base of the engine, their bodies still, their faces alert. His voice was soft, higher than most men’s, and it had a lilting quality to it that she’d always found soothing. Scanning Langley’s features, Samantha felt a twinge of guilt at the exhaustion she saw there. Dirt had settled into the lines on his long face, which seemed to have aged over the last week. She stemmed a sudden urge to look away from Langley’s curious gaze. No doubt she looked clean and very well rested by comparison, she thought guiltily. “Just a precaution,” she said lightly. He turned his head and narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. “Well, I’m glad you’re here,” he said plainly, handing her a paper notebook. Samantha took the proffered notebook. An ink pen was clipped to the side and the pages were covered with his neat handwriting. Kane leaned forward so that he could read over Samantha’s shoulder, frowning with interest at the oddity of a paper record. “Langley’s old-fashioned,” Samantha teased gently, her attention primarily on the page in front of her. Kane whistled low. “A purist?” he asked, smiling amiably. Langley’s eyes narrowed, darting from Samantha to Kane. It was a moment before he returned Kane’s smile, his gaze hardening slightly. Samantha kept her face expressionless, trying to focus exclusively on the record in front of her. Kane might work alone, but she knew he wasn’t oblivious to team 81

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dynamics in general. Over the years, she’d talked to him many times about how her team worked. Engineers were an intellectual breed, wary of outsiders. Like it or not, her gender made her an outsider in a group of men. She’d worked hard to win her team’s loyalty and respect. They regarded her with a mixture of reverence and protectiveness, though she soundly discouraged the latter. The group had closed ranks after the recent disaster and loss, which would make them even warier of Kane’s presence, she knew. She would have to play this carefully, and she hoped Kane knew enough to tread lightly among the engineers. Unfortunately, if her stalker were one of her team members—nausea welled up in her at the thought—Kane’s presence might make it easier for him to hide in the group. “Sometimes the old ways are best,” Langley replied coolly. She read Langley’s report slowly, trying not to let the silent tension between the men affect her concentration. The aural adaptors were picking up the sound of both men’s breathing, which was unnerving. A large manifold blocked her view of the upper decks, where most of the repairs had taken place—which was actually a good thing. Seeing the damage, particularly now that she knew it had been deliberate, had an emotional impact that Langley’s notes spared her. “I’m glad you took furlough,” Langley interrupted, laying his hand on her forearm. She looked up sharply, surprised at the unusual contact. He withdrew his hand, looking embarrassed. “Sorry, Chief. I was worried about you. That, and we need someone who isn’t about to drop. We’re all so tired that this place is an accident waiting to happen.” His voice dropped a notch on the last sentence and Samantha’s chest tightened at the too apropos word—accident. But Jason’s death hadn’t been an accident, had it? Of course, Langley had no way of knowing that. She swallowed hard. She didn’t realize she’d taken a small, involuntary step backward until she bumped into Kane. His body was rigid with tension.

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Breathe, dammit, Samantha scolded herself. She was going to have to act as though nothing were amiss. Smiling tightly, Samantha returned the notebook to Langley and nodded. “Show me the schematic again,” she said, stepping around Langley and heading toward a vid console set into the wall. Kane followed smoothly at her heels, unapologetically cutting off Langley as he started to do the same. Samantha heard Langley’s annoyed grunt as he fell into stride and joined them at the console, standing to her right. Perfect. Just perfect. She was going to have to speak to Kane about playing well with others.

Kane stood two feet behind Samantha, noting that while Langley seemed genuinely irritated by his presence, the ensigns working a few feet away just glanced at him curiously, nodded and returned to their work. They had pulled a warped, blackened square of metal away from the wall and the bigger of the two men held the frame while the other worked behind the plate on something Kane couldn’t see. It wasn’t until they turned and Kane saw the snarled, shriveled wiring behind the metal plate that he realized he was looking at a vidscreen. An ex-vidscreen, he amended, letting his gaze drift upward. The upper levels of the engine room were open, a series of catwalks rising one above the other to the ceiling of the giant, dome-shaped room. They surrounded the giant, hexagonal engine on all sides like scaffolding. The highest levels had taken the most damage; Kane could see a series of LED markers surrounding several large holes where the metal walkway had been wrenched away entirely. Someone with a sense of humor had written “Bridge Out Ahead” on a sign near one of the gaps. The engine itself was a sprawling mass of metal utterly incomprehensible to Kane. To him, it looked like a child’s block puzzle, the enormous, smooth, metal cubes stacked neatly—but not precisely—on top of one another to form a fragile-looking tower. Samantha had once tried to explain the necessity of the asymmetry to him but he’d stopped her, saying that some things should remain a mystery. Truthfully, he, Blake

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and Samantha had been working out at the time. It was the sight of her adorable butt on the leg press, he believed, that had reduced the brothers’ combined IQ to less than 100, and he’d been physically incapable of comprehension at the time. The same sight had made them her perpetually available—and only—workout partners. The memory brought a surprisingly intense wave of possessiveness over him. That vision belonged to him and Blake alone. The engine groaned again, the frequency vibrating his chest, and Kane regarded the machinery warily. The pipes, wires, tubing and circuit boards that adorned the engine seemed more ornamental than structurally sound. To add to the surreal picture, the entire housing rested on a base that functioned like a turntable, rotating the engine once an hour like a giant, misguided art deco installation. Kane looked from the behemoth to its unlikely mistress, who stood in front of him, gesturing animatedly with her elegant hands. He realized he’d missed most of what she’d just said to Langley. “Here, where the coupling was damaged—that’s where I’ll start double-checking our repairs then,” she finished, turning from the diagram projection in front of them to the engine itself. “I just want to be sure we’re good to go for the rendezvous with The Stronghold.” She craned her head back, shielding her eyes against the room’s fluorescent glare, staring at it like a climber sizing up a mountain. With a brisk nod, she turned back to Langley and smiled kindly. “I’m up to speed. Langley, why don’t you take a few hours rest now.” The engineer looked horrified. “I… Chief… There’s really no need,” he stammered, clearly flustered. Samantha smiled gently. Kane knew she really needed to work alone, so she could use the stalker’s diagram without anyone else seeing it. “Langley, we all have to rest some—” she began, but the young engineer cut her off, suddenly agitated. “Chief, someone needs to stay with you,” he said, his mouth set in a hard line. Kane took a step closer to Samantha, ignoring the exasperated look she gave him. She reached up to her ear, pressed once and turned to Kane briefly. 84

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“Excuse us a second,” she said apologetically to Langley. She took a step toward Kane, putting them out of earshot of Langley in the loud engine room. “It’s all right. He just doesn’t want to leave us with too much on our hands,” she said urgently on their private frequency. “He doesn’t want to leave you,” Kane growled. She wrinkled her nose at him and turned back to Langley, who was looking at them with a puzzled expression. She tapped her ear, switching back to the main frequency. She opened her mouth to speak, but Langley cut her off. “Why is he here, anyway?” he asked. Kane eyed him closely, trying to determine if he was annoyed, tired or both. Probably both, and he couldn’t really blame him. Still, there was something about the man that bothered him. “Officer Damsen has volunteered to provide backup so some of you could rest. I’ll be dismissing Scott and Regan also,” she said, glancing up at the catwalks where the two ensigns were working. Langley shook his head with disapproval. “But, Chief,” he protested, “he’s not an engineer. If something goes wrong—” Langley began, reaching for her arm. Kane had heard enough. He moved in front of Samantha, blocking her from Langley’s view and knocking the man’s outstretched arm back. “That will be all, Lieutenant,” he said in a low voice, ending the discussion. There was a muffled, feminine growl from behind him. Kane knew his intercession would make her angry. He didn’t care. Langley was leaving. Now. Kane was a head taller than Langley, so the engineer had to look up to meet his hard gaze. There was a brief, charged pause, and then Langley looked away. “Aye, sir,” he murmured, saluted stiffly, then turned and left the room. Samantha stepped out from behind Kane to watch him go. When the lift doors slid shut, closing off the sight of Langley’s stiff back, she turned on Kane, tapping her ear to switch to their private frequency.

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“What the hell was that?” she said with an icy calmness. Her hands curled into fists at her sides. He stared at her in impassive silence. Then, losing her temper, she hissed, “This is my sector, he is my lieutenant, and that was totally unnecessary.” With Langley gone, Kane relaxed. His eyes glinted with amusement. “Then you need to discipline your men better,” he said laconically. A smile threatened to ruin Samantha’s attempt to be stern. “Apparently so,” she said. Kane glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then drew her, protesting, behind a burned-out bulkhead. Ignoring her surprised squeak, he brought his face to within inches of hers, her breath warm against his lips. “Why don’t you start with me?” he asked softly, rasping his stubbled jaw over her cheek as his mouth sought the sensitive skin just behind her earlobe. “Kane, somebody will see us…” Her protest died on a moan and he chuckled. She made a petulant, throaty little growl in response, but her body melted against his and she turned her head, baring the vulnerable skin of her throat to him. With a groan of approval, he explored the column of her throat, nipping, kissing, lingering on the spots that made her gasp and shiver. “Kane,” she whimpered, the sound both a protest and a plea. He gathered her closer in the semidarkness of their makeshift alcove, wrapping his arms around her protectively. Her knees weakened and he pressed the column of his thigh between her legs to support her. She was hot against him, her need unmistakable even through two layers of clothing and everything in him responded to the invitation. He ached to be inside her, to feel the satin heat of her inner walls stroking his cock. Her hair smelled of the shampoo he’d used in the shower, calling to his mind the memory of her strong little body wrapped around his, her soft cries echoing like erotic music in the steamy chamber as he pounded his thick length into her. He fisted his hands in her hair and

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feasted urgently on her mouth, needing the physical reassurance of touch. She met him without resistance, seeming aware of his possessive need. “You’re wet,” he murmured into her ear, the deep sound of his voice making her shiver. His mouth slanted over hers in a wild, hungry kiss. “And you smell like soap. Do you remember the shower?” he asked teasingly. She nodded, grasping his broad shoulders for support. Slowly she tamed him, her fingers running gently through his hair, her lips tender against his. It was he who broke the kiss. “Jesus, Sam. You amaze me,” he said softly, stroking her cheek with his knuckles. Samantha opened her mouth to reply but a sudden, high-pitched whine from the engine cut through the air. She blushed, twitching awkwardly in his arms. Kane lowered her to the ground just a fraction too slowly, so that she slid against his muscular thigh. A small, pained sound escaped her and she looked up at him reproachfully. He swooped down and kissed her quickly but thoroughly. “Go,” he whispered, grinning broadly. Self-consciously, Samantha smoothed her fitted black shirt. The material slid sumptuously over her sensitive nipples and she coughed to conceal a moan. When she looked up at Kane, he was grinning, her mouth tight. “Oh, stop it,” she said sharply, and turned to go. When he didn’t immediately follow, she stopped. “Well, come on,” she said a trifle irritably. “If you’re going to be in here, by God, you’re going to work.” He laughed softly and followed her out.

***** At seventeen hundred hours, Blake came to relieve Kane. In the lift, he traded his light earpiece for the heavier aural adaptors they wore in engineering. He slipped the tiny plugs into his ears, working his jaw until they settled comfortably. He tried without 87

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success not to wince at the familiar electric sting as the thing connected with his auditory nerve, plunging his world into silence. Frankly, the whole idea of a machine tapping into his brainwaves creeped him out, despite Kane’s reassurances that the device was safe. He watched the light on the panel click from level to level as he descended, aware of the growing engine noise only through the vibrations it produced in the floor. By the time the light on the panel came to rest beside “ENGINEERING”, the silence had thoroughly alarmed his brain, which was receiving conflicting information from his feet about the noise level in the room. Then the flat, gray lift doors slid open and the earpiece connected with Engineering’s com frequency. Through the general chatter of static and breathing, he heard Samantha’s voice, hoarse but firm. “Should be online now. Roberts, what’s doing down there?” Stepping into the room, Blake searched for Samantha and found her on a catwalk several levels up, sitting cross-legged in the middle of a snake’s nest of black cables. Two thick, gnarled cables rested across her lap and she was wrapping some kind of electrical tape around a third. Kane sat behind her with his back against the catwalk railing, looking oddly useless amid the general chaos in the room. “No connection yet, Chief,” a male voice said dispiritedly over the com. A string of highly creative oaths followed, their collective weight at odds with the soft feminine voice carrying them. Blake chuckled, watching Samantha’s head bob in time to her cursing. Hearing him, she looked over her shoulder, waved and tapped her ear in an exaggerated gesture. “Come on up, I could use your help,” she said over their private frequency. She spoke brightly and smiled, but Blake could hear the tension in her voice. “More frightening words were never spoken,” Kane commented wearily. “We’re almost done,” Samantha protested. From where he stood, Blake could see the short, sharp movements of her elbows as she worked, her back to him. As he ascended the series of catwalks, the odor of burning plastic and char became stronger.

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“Baby, you said that an hour ago,” his brother griped, swiping his grease-smudged palm across his forehead. “What’s going on?” Blake asked, cutting through the tension. “She rewired part of the repairs because she wasn’t satisfied with them. The patch is done, but we—excuse me, they—had to take the engine offline for thirty seconds to do it,” Kane answered tiredly. “When they brought it back up, there was a power surge that fried the connection between the engine’s sensors and the main computer.” Samantha smirked at him. “Well said.” She turned to Blake. “I assume you’re aware that your brother burned himself?” she asked, grasping Kane’s hand gently and turning it over. A large, angry blister was forming in the center of his palm. Blake winced, rubbing his own palm against his leg. Actually, he’d been only remotely aware of the accident. Maintaining his psychic connection with his brother had proven too distracting to Blake, so he’d kept himself shielded for the duration of his shift on the bridge. Kane sat still while Samantha turned his hand this way and that, her brows knitting. “I wish you’d done as I asked and gone to medical. This is getting nastier,” she fussed. Kane slowly pulled his hand from her grasp and tipped up her chin with two fingers. “It’s fine. I told you—I’m not leaving you here alone, not with him still out there.” Samantha’s mouth tightened at the mention of her stalker. Kane leaned forward slightly, his gaze fastened on her lips, but caught himself when her eyes went wide with alarm. “Not here,” she said urgently. Kane’s feeling of angry rejection hit Blake like a freight train and Samantha put her hands over her mouth as though she could draw the words back with her breath. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, her distress obvious to Blake. Kane, however, just looked away angrily.

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“How did you mean it, then? I haven’t been able to get near you for the past four hours without getting pushed away,” he groused. Blake touched his shoulder and spoke along their mental pathway. She’s afraid, he said gently. She’s not ready to go public about dating, much less tell the crew she’s dating two men. And if the saboteur is here, it’ll just set him off. Let her be. I know, Kane said, sounding exasperated. It’s just… She’s so right for us, Blake. She’s the one, I know it. And you haven’t been here. Letting her team get near her—Langley even touched her—with him out there somewhere… It’s murder. Well, Blake replied sensibly, that’s the way it has to be, at least until we catch him. If the stalker were to find out that she’s seeing us, things would get much worse. For her sake, we’ll have to keep ourselves in check. Samantha crawled over to the junction box, opened it and studied the connections inside. A flash of heat went through Blake at the sight of her on all fours, her perfect round bottom wiggling as she worked with the wires inside. His cock hardened painfully and he bit back a groan. Damn codpieces. Oblivious to them, Samantha lifted the thick cable to examine her patchwork, made a satisfied clucking sound and opened the main com line again. “Try her now, Waters,” she ordered and set the cable in front of her, releasing it. Several stories below them, Blake saw the young ensign begin to work the main console. There was a loud humming as the drive powered up again and a series of green lights flashed on the panel in front of Samantha. She clapped her hands together gleefully and tipped back her head, sighing with relief. “Thank God,” she gushed, turning to look at each of them. “I’ll have to doublecheck the console downstairs, but I think…” she trailed off, crossing her fingers, “I think we can take a break.”

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Chapter Seven By the time they left the engine room, it was nearly evening. The day’s end was heartening to Samantha—no one had died, and the new engine was coming tomorrow. It had surprised her that after Langley left, none of her team were interested in Blake and Kane’s presence. It shouldn’t be all that surprising, she supposed. Most of them were so focused on the engine problems that something like an extra man—or two— would easily go unnoticed. And it wasn’t as if the crew knew she was seeing them. She was glad to have avoided scrutiny, but it also left her without any new information about her stalker. She’d hoped some behavioral oddity would stand out, give her a hint of some sort. Langley had been annoyed with Kane, but given the way Kane had acted toward him, that wasn’t a big shocker. She sighed. As it was, she felt just as in the dark as she’d been this morning. The three of them stepped onto the lift, gratefully removing the aural adaptors as they did so. Kane’s big hand, bandaged in wide, white gauze, paused over the buttons. “Where to?” he asked, his deep voice restored to its full potency without the earpieces to filter it. Her belly tightened and she caught her lower lip between her teeth, worrying it thoughtfully. Blake’s gaze joined Kane’s as they waited for her reply. They looked like big, hungry cats—feral and predatory. A flash of wild excitement burned through her and settled low in her belly. God, all they had to do was look at her and she wanted them. Samantha supposed two years of chastity—particularly spent in close proximity to two men she’d wanted like crazy—could make any woman a wanton. Blake leaned forward to wipe a smudge of grease off her nose. “You’re a mess,” he whispered, reaching over her shoulder to press the button for deck six—the officers’ living quarters.

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“I think she needs a bath, don’t you, Kane?” Blake asked, leaning down to nip gently at her neck. His hands reached around to cup her breasts, teasing her nipples into hard peaks. Samantha moaned and laid her head back on his chest, her knees suddenly weak. Her breath caught in her throat as the thought entered her mind that she wanted them both in her at the same time. “Oh God,” she whispered, her imagination supplying a wealth of images and sensations. To have both of them moving deep in her… To be so full of their cocks… It was the stuff of wild fantasy. And she had the chance to try it with Blake and Kane. Excitement warred with nerves in her belly. Despite what they’d said about their psychic bond, she wasn’t sure she couldn’t keep both of them satisfied for long. And then she would have to choose, to let one of them find a woman of his own. The problem was, the thought of either of them with another woman made her burn with jealousy and sadness. Oh, for God’s sake, Samantha, get a grip. Enjoy the fantasy while it lasts. “You okay, beautiful?” It was Blake who spoke, his brow lined with concern. Her head still rested on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his hard, warm body in a comforting gesture. Kane tipped up her chin with two fingers, capturing her gaze with searching, ice-blue eyes. “What is it? Do you want us to stop?” Samantha had the absurd urge to giggle. Instead, she shook her head vehemently. “No, it’s not that,” she said in a rush. “It’s just… Well… I was thinking…” She pressed her lips together with a frustrated moan. “I’m just wondering where this is going,” she finished lamely. Kane and Blake exchanged a meaningful glance. “Like I said before, it works however we want it to work—all three of us,” Blake said gently. “Don’t rush it.”

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Samantha looked from one to the other, wishing fervently she could do just that. “I’ll try,” she said with a wry smile. The problem was, Samantha knew herself—and she never did anything halfway. If she fell for both of them, if she let herself believe that this miracle might just happen—it would be shattering when reality reasserted itself. It took superhuman willpower to stride casually down the corridor between Blake and Kane as she’d done hundreds of times before. Her thoughts were a jumble of anticipation, worry and fear. Her stalker was still out there somewhere, she was endangering both brothers just by being with them. When it wasn’t dreaming up horrible scenarios starring the mysterious bogeyman, her mind supplied her with numerous images of what might or might not happen once they reached their quarters. By the time the nondescript, gray doors came into view, Samantha was frazzled and distracted. When Blake keyed in the code, the doors slid silently open and Samantha was struck once again by how warm and inviting the small suite was. Kane walked in first. Samantha made to follow him but Blake put a restraining hand on her shoulder. “Wait,” he said in a low voice. Kane moved around the room, his expression focused and intense. After a moment, he nodded to Blake and both of them visibly relaxed. Blake touched the small of her back. “It’s all right. Just being careful,” he explained. Samantha nodded and stepped inside. The doors slid shut behind her, the locking mechanism snapping loudly in the silence. The sound seemed to break her out of a trance and Samantha felt suddenly and uncharacteristically awkward, unsure what to do next. Kane looked from Blake to Samantha and grinned. “I’ll get the shower started,” he said simply, and left the room. There was a brief silence as Samantha watched the bathroom door close behind Kane. When she turned back to Blake, she realized he’d been watching her thoughtfully. Where Kane’s expressions were mercurial and passionate, changing as rapidly as his thoughts, Blake’s features were calm and thoughtful, his cool gray eyes 93

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assessing and gentle. He inhaled as though about to say something, then seemed to change his mind. Instead, he gestured toward the room into which Kane had disappeared and grinned. “Well, he’s in a hurry,” he said wryly, reaching out to stroke her cheek once with his knuckles. “Are you hungry?” he asked, turning casually toward the counter and working at the cuffs of his dark uniform shirt. On impulse, she stepped forward and stayed his hands. “Let me,” she said softly. He watched her in silence, his gaze heating as her small hands worked deftly at the buttons, opening the cuffs. When she finished, Blake let his arms fall to his sides and stood, waiting like a big, docile cat for her to make the next move. Samantha unbuttoned his shirt and slid it over his broad shoulders, grasping his hands and taking a small step back, spreading his arms to get a better view of him. His breath was coming more rapidly now, his broad chest rising and falling rhythmically but he made no move toward her. Entranced, Samantha laid her palms flat against his hard, warm chest, her fingers splayed over the defined ridges of muscle moving subtly with his breath. Her eyes met his and she glimpsed the tight control with which he held his body in check. The thought made her shiver. Kane’s unrestrained sensuality made her wild, a captive to her body’s overwhelming response to him. Though completely opposite to Kane’s manner, the taut restraint she felt coursing through Blake made her ache. She wanted to push him to his limit, to feel that tight control snap, to sense the exact moment his need for her was beyond his strength to endure. She closed her eyes and inhaled his clean scent, remembering how he’d felt moving deep inside her. Gently, Blake urged her closer and reached for the clasp that held up her hair. She went to him without hesitation, his small gesture somehow as exciting as Kane’s urgent grasp. His palm brushed her neck and she drew in a sharp breath as the incidental

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contact sent shivers racing through her. Samantha dropped her forehead onto his chest, her heart pounding. How did he make her so crazy? He hadn’t so much as kissed her. “Perfect,” he murmured as her auburn hair spilled over her shoulders. She frowned and looked up at him. At this close range, she had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. “What’s that?” she asked distantly, distracted by the heavy, warm feel of his hands on her shoulders. “Nothing, baby.”

She was perfect, Blake thought headily, watching Samantha’s thick, dark eyelashes drift down, her tight shoulder muscles beginning to relax under his hands. Kane had been certain about Samantha from the first time they’d met her, the night before The Adamant launched. Blake hadn’t been so sure.

“You’re nuts,” he’d told Kane as they walked away from the noisy commissary that first night. He’d meant to sound dismissive, joking, but the words had emerged bitter and angry. The slip annoyed him—Blake tried not to show his growing despair to his brother, who still hoped that they would find a woman they could share. “Tell me you don’t feel it too,” Kane challenged. Blake sighed, trying to ignore the streak of hopeful excitement that threatened to break free and wreak havoc with his feelings. Again. “I do,” he said softly, remembering Samantha’s intelligent, discerning eyes, the wry curve of her lips when she smiled, her small, elegant hands gesturing expressively while she talked. But Kane wasn’t referring to any of these things…of that, Blake was sure. No, his brother was talking about the way she’d said goodbye to them tonight. She’d leaned across the table, grasping one of his hands and one of Kane’s, squeezing hard. “Thanks, guys. This is my first assignment and it suddenly doesn’t feel so lonely anymore,” she’d said, her face earnest.

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From that moment on, Kane had been utterly convinced. Samantha was unique. Special. Theirs. “She was just being nice,” Blake protested, speaking as much to his own flickering hope as he was to Kane’s irritating certainty. “You weren’t really watching, were you?” Kane said, making a frustrated gesture so vehement that his hand accidentally hit the gray corridor wall with a hollow gong sound. “A woman doesn’t reach for a man’s hand to be polite. She does it because she wants the contact,” he continued, speaking slowly, as though to a small child. “If she’s in a group, she’ll touch only the man she chooses, the one who interests her.” Kane had stopped walking then, grasping Blake’s shoulder firmly and facing him. “And she couldn’t choose. Don’t you get it?” Blake hadn’t gotten it. He hadn’t wanted to. He and Kane were fundamentally different men, two sides of the same coin, and most of the women they’d met had a strong preference for one or the other. Deep down, he despaired of one woman ever seeing each of them for what they were and wanting both of them in her bed—in her life—forever.

Samantha’s contented sigh drew him back to the present. She leaned into him, her small body easily melting against his, her belly cradling the painful erection he seemed doomed to suffer whenever she was around. Blake stifled a groan as her warmth stole through his uniform trousers and into the most sensitive part of him. She’d gone willingly, eagerly to Kane’s bed when the two of them had been alone. A small part of him still doubted she would respond to him with the same eager willingness. “Samantha, I—” he began, but she broke in. “I must be the most selfish woman in the universe,” she said, her brow creased with worried frustration. Blake looked at her, caught off guard by the unexpected comment. “What?” She looked up at him, her green eyes filling with a vulnerable sadness that tore at his heart. He stroked her arms soothingly. 96

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“It’s crazy of me—just plain wrong—to want you both. I can’t possibly be enough for both of you. I’d be keeping you from someone else who is,” she said, her eyes wide and damp. She looked down at her hands and fidgeted miserably. “Of course you can. You already do—you already are everything Kane and I could possibly want,” he said gently. She nodded, but didn’t look up. Frustrated, Blake clasped her chin firmly in his hand and tilted her head back, trapping her gaze with his own. “And we do want you. Both of us. Madly. Constantly.” Her lips parted in a silent O of reluctant comprehension that was too soft and tempting to resist. Fisting his hand in her lush, dark red hair, he claimed her mouth, swallowing her surprised gasp. She stiffened against him, then relaxed in his arms as he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, sliding it into her mouth when they parted on a moan. Her taste was sweet, honeyed and instantly addictive. Her arms stole around his neck and she pressed close to him, running her fingers through his hair. Aching to touch her, Blake unzipped the front of her uniform and splayed his palm on her flat belly. Samantha wriggled against his hand eagerly, standing on her tiptoes to slide his hand downward. On to her game, Blake smiled against her lips and shook his head. He’d waited two years to feel her little body against his—hungry just for him—and he was going to savor it. “Be still, Samantha,” he ordered huskily, nipping her neck. A small growl escaped her and she nipped back. “Damsen men and their orders,” she said in a voice that was half irritated, half purring with pleasure as he made slow, deliberate circles on her belly. He chuckled. “I assure you, I’m a pushover compared to Kane,” he said in a low voice, gently tweaking her nipple until it hardened obediently. She was trembling against him, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps of anticipation… Just how he wanted her. The sound of running water issued from the bathroom and she turned her head toward it. A deep blush crept up her neck and her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips. He stifled a 97

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groan as he remembered the sight of those sweet lips wrapped around Kane’s cock while he fucked her from behind, her pale cheeks dimpling as she sucked contentedly. Through his connection with his brother, he’d felt her little tongue flicking over the engorged head of Kane’s shaft while her pussy gripped him like a vise. “Enough,” he said roughly. He’d spent the entire day trying desperately to focus on the blinking lights in front of him, all the while dreaming of all the ways he and Kane could pleasure Samantha. He was done waiting.

The harsh desperation in Blake’s tone brought Samantha up short. She met his eyes with a level gaze and a thrill of nervous anticipation shot through her at the raw, feral desire she saw glittering in his hard silver eyes. She didn’t understand the brothers’ connection completely but it seemed obvious that Blake would be strongly affected when Kane was with her. Like he had been this morning…repeatedly. A disturbing thought occurred to her. “Are you angry with me?” Bewilderment replaced the hunger in his eyes and he raised his eyebrows until his forehead crinkled. “Why… What would I be angry with you about?” he stammered. “Well, Kane and I…this morning, and I know you came by, and…” Samantha trailed off weakly and toyed awkwardly with the fine hair on his chest, unwilling to meet his gaze. He laughed, grasping both of her hands in his. “No, never,” he said softly, kissing her knuckles. Taking her elbow, he led her over to the bed where he sat on the edge and guided her to stand between his knees. Gently, he slid her uniform from her shoulders, down past her waist and helped her step out of the one-piece suit. The cool air of the room touched her skin and she shivered under his hands. She kicked it aside and stood naked before him, watching him carefully. Could he really not be jealous? It made no sense.

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“There’s no jealousy between Kane and me,” he said, answering her unspoken concern. She frowned, unsure. “I don’t understand,” she began, then paused, searching for the words to continue. When his warm palms covered her breasts, she abandoned the search to the feel of his touch. Leaning forward, he took one of her breasts in his mouth, sucking deeply. The sensation shot straight to her core and she arched into him, her eyes drifting closed, her mouth dropping open on a silent cry of pleasure. She fisted her hands in his short hair. He released her with a soft pop and the cool room air hit her moist nipple. She would have felt bereft had it not been for his hands stroking the length of her back. Samantha looked down into his metallic-silver eyes, shivering with need as his mouth hovered just above her nipple. She wanted to lean forward, to coax him to suckle her again, but the silent command in his gaze stopped her. Instead, she forced herself to remain still, his soft breath torturing her. “Kane and I may be different men but it’s true what we said—each of us feels what the other does, sometimes quite literally,” he said patiently. His eyes never leaving hers, Blake placed his palm over the soft curls on her mound, his fingers hovering above her clit. She couldn’t suppress a small whimper and he smiled wickedly. “When I do this,” he began, plunging two fingers deep into her slick, wet pussy. Samantha cried out as pleasure seized her, streaking outward from her core all the way to her toes. Her knees went weak and he held her up with one arm around her lower back, guiding her down until she straddled him, her hips bucking on his hand. “He at least knows how much I want to fuck you,” he murmured and rasped the flat of his tongue over her aching nipple. Samantha twitched and gasped, her fingernails digging into his big shoulders. Her pussy bathed his hand in wet warmth and an approving rumble vibrated through his chest. She lifted her hips, trying to grind on his hand but he patted her bottom in warning and shook his head. “Not yet.”

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Samantha obeyed, more excited than she was outraged by his commands. She’d never been this edgy and aroused with a man, much less from a simple touch. She whimpered, a small, pleading sound. “Soon,” he cooed, scraping her nipple very carefully with his teeth. Samantha could only nod. With a hard look at her, as though reassuring himself that she would obey, Blake continued the lesson. “If I let down my shields,” he said, fluttering his fingers inside her, “he can feel everything from your sweet ass on my knees to your tight, hot little pussy squeezing my fingers.” Blake closed his eyes for a moment and a frustrated growl came from the bathroom. Samantha’s eyes widened and she giggled. Blake’s voice lowered to a barely audible whisper and he thrust his fingers in deeper. “If I let you come on my hand, he’ll feel your pussy sucking and squeezing his hand.” Samantha moaned, her entire body going rigid, hovering on the edge of the most incredible orgasm she’d ever had. Instantly, his fingers were gone and she nearly collapsed, wanting to weep. “Blake,” she whimpered, but he said nothing. Carefully, as though she were something precious and fragile, Blake lifted her and laid her, shivering, on her back in the middle of the thick, soft mattress. Rising to his knees, he crawled between her legs and nudged her legs apart with his shoulders. She responded immediately, baring the glistening lips of her sex to his hungry gaze. He leaned down, bringing his mouth to within an inch of her throbbing core. Samantha cried out between clenched teeth, fisting her hands in the sheets. If he touched her, she’d come instantly. When he spoke, she swore she could feel every molecule of air that moved over her aching slit. “He can even taste you on my tongue,” Blake said matter-of-factly. If she hadn’t been splayed out before him, gasping and trembling, Samantha might have thought he was giving a lecture on basic vectoring.

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He looked up into her eyes, his gaze almost sympathetic, and placed a soft kiss on the inside of her thigh. “Get on your hands and knees, baby,” he said gently. Feeling like an animal in heat, Samantha flipped over and did as he said, trembling from head to toe. At last she felt the thick head of his cock nudge her entrance and she moaned with relief and heady anticipation. Even as wet as she was, he must have known she was still swollen from that morning and he worked his thick cock into her by shallow, slow thrusts, holding her hips firmly in place when she tried desperately to sit back and swallow his cock in one satisfying thrust. By the time he was fully seated in her, his heavy balls resting against her clit with not quite enough pressure to make her come, Samantha was beyond coherent thought.

Blake gritted his teeth against his slipping control. The sight alone, Samantha stuffed full of his cock and absolutely undone with anticipation, brought him close to spilling in her—and there was something he needed to know first. She was even tighter than she’d been this morning, and in this position, the pink rosebud entrance of her ass was plainly, tantalizingly visible to him. He tried not to think about how good it would feel to take her there and concentrated on finding out if that was a nerve center that would bring her pleasure. Until he knew that, he couldn’t broach the subject of a double penetration ménage, no matter how appealing the idea was to him and Kane. Experimentally, he brushed his thumb across the tight little hole. She gasped and her pussy clenched him. Hard. With slightly more pressure, he circled the entrance with the tip of his finger, still sliding his cock in and out of her in a slow, gentle rhythm. She hesitated, shivered, then moaned. “Oh my God,” she breathed. “Blake…” she stopped, her back arching deeply as he pressed his thumb into the tight, tempting hole. She inhaled sharply through clenched teeth and stiffened.

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“I know. It’s going to feel strange at first. Try to relax, love, I’m not going to hurt you,” he coached, reaching around with his other hand to stroke her clit. His words and touch calmed her and he felt the muscles of her thighs relax against his. “Blaaaake,” she moaned. “Like that, baby?” he asked, stroking his thumb in and out of her ass as he slowly fucked her pussy. She whimpered and nodded. “Good girl,” he rumbled, watching her carefully for signs of discomfort. Her face was pressed against the sheets, her breasts swaying slowly with his strokes, her lush little body shaking, helpless with pleasure. “Does that feel good, Sam?” he asked softly, stroking her clit with just enough pressure to make her shiver uncontrollably but not enough to make her come. “God, yes,” she breathed. “So… Full.” Blake felt her anus relax the last fraction around his thumb, accepting him completely. “Imagine what it would feel like when I take you there while Kane fucks your pussy. Would you like that, Sam? Would you like to take both of us inside you?” Her pussy clenched around his cock so hard they both gasped. “Yes…yes!” she cried, exploding around his cock, her anal muscles squeezing his thumb. This time Blake didn’t stop her when she pushed back against him, taking his cock in to the hilt. His control snapping, he fucked her hard, pounding into her slick, hot pussy until her breasts bounced with his movements. Her orgasm seemed to go on and on as she convulsed around him, milking and stroking him with her hot, silken walls. Fire gathered in his limbs and streaked into his tight, hard balls. He slammed her hips back against him and held them together, straining, his cock so sensitive he could feel the head pressing up against her cervix as he came inside her in long, sweet pulses. He thrust in her until the last waves of her orgasm subsided and she collapsed back. Carefully, he slid his thumb out of her, clasped her hips and helped her lie down next to him, still embedded in her. With a small, satisfied sound, she wriggled back against him contentedly. “Wow,” she whispered and giggled. 102

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“What?” “Just… Wow. I’ll never survive having both of you in me at once,” she murmured sleepily. As he slid gently out of her, her face turned serious. She opened her mouth as though to say something, then closed it again, frowning. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, not wanting to spoil the moment. He stood up and lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. “I can walk, you know,” she protested, but sighed and let her head fall against his chest.

Kane grinned as Blake walked through the door, Samantha lounging sleepily in his arms. Blake set her down and Kane turned on the water and opened the shower door for her. Luxurious steam poured out and both men watched, entranced, as the curls of white vapor played about her soft curves. She looked like a goddess in the mist, Kane thought fancifully. Her deep green eyes opened and settled on his aching erection, then flicked guiltily up to meet his eyes. He smiled wolfishly but said nothing, letting the erotically laced silence stretch out. A pretty blush crept up her neck and her nipples peaked under his gaze. Her inner thighs were enticingly damp, the lips of her sex slightly swollen from her tryst with Blake. He growled his approval and she shivered, her nipples drawing tighter.

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Chapter Eight Samantha moistened her lips and swallowed. Her pussy still throbbed from the intensity of her lovemaking with Blake, yet Kane had her all hot and bothered again— just by looking at her with those ice-blue eyes. It wasn’t until he took a step toward her that she realized he was holding something behind his back. He wrapped his arms around her, hiding it from her view. “What is that?” she asked, craning her neck to see behind her. She tried to turn but he held her against his muscular chest. Her breasts, sensitive from Blake’s attentions, rubbed against the soft down on his chest and a streak of pleasure shot straight to her core. “Something for you,” he said mysteriously. She felt Blake step up behind her, trapping her between the two of them. Blake held up the object. It was long and tapered, with a sort of handle at the end. Samantha’s eyes widened. She had a feeling she knew where that was supposed to go. Oh my God, what am I doing? she thought nervously, her anus contracting tightly at the mere thought. Then Kane was kissing her, gently rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Her skin tingled as he walked backward, taking her with him into the shower. He held her tightly, turning so that her back was to the spray, and ran his hands up and down her arms and back, soothing her. The heat, his hands and the growing strength of her arousal relaxed her. “It’s okay, Sam. Trust us,” Kane whispered in her ear, gently nipping her neck. Blake stepped up behind her, placing a hand on her arm. His other hand slid down her back and rested at the base of her spine, just above her bottom. Samantha whimpered, unsure. Sensing her anxiety, Blake stopped and moved his hand around her, onto her belly. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. 104

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“Remember how it felt, baby, to have your pussy full of my cock and my finger in your ass?” Oh God, did she remember. Samantha moaned and nodded, a fresh wave of heat searing through her. She wrapped her arms around Kane’s waist and held on tight, placing urgent little kisses on his chest. Blake chuckled. “She remembers,” he said softly, and Samantha felt his hand, slick with some kind of lubricant, slide between her cheeks. Kane stroked her hair, his deep voice murmuring reassurance. His mouth claimed hers in a gentle kiss and he palmed the soft mound of curls at the apex of her thighs, brushing her clit lightly with the pad of his forefinger. She cried out, a small, keening sound that he swallowed, tracing circles around the wildly sensitive nub until she opened her legs, hungry now for his invasion. Blake closed his teeth on her ear in an almost bite and Samantha turned awkwardly to kiss him. His silver eyes glittered with barely contained arousal. Feeling a bit naughty, she pushed back and wiggled against his straining cock. He bit down harder on her earlobe and she squeaked. “Minx,” he growled. “Come here,” Kane said softly, turning her chin back toward him and reclaiming her mouth, thrusting his tongue past her teeth to tangle with hers. Slowly, Blake slid the plug along her nether lips, teasing her and coating it with her wetness. Kane broke the kiss and knelt in front of her, fine droplets of water misting his hair and shining on his hard, bronze body. Wrapping one arm around her waist, Blake slid the tip of the plug in as Kane began a slow, sensuous assault on her clit. Samantha dropped her head back against Blake’s chest and groaned, clutching his arm. When Kane nudged her legs farther apart with his shoulders, she eagerly complied. Slowly, Blake began to slide the plug in and out, fucking her tight hole with it while Kane feasted on her pussy. She shuddered uncontrollably in their arms, her body thrumming with pleasure. Suddenly Kane took her clit in his mouth and sucked gently, flicking his tongue over it, throwing her over the edge. As he did so, Blake pushed the plug in all the way, filling her ass and

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rubbing against pleasure spots she never knew existed. Samantha screamed out her orgasm, riding against Kane’s mouth, letting the two of them support her when her legs refused to hold her up any longer. She was still riding out the shock waves of her climax when Kane stood and, in one swift, powerful stroke, seated himself balls-deep in her. She came again, bathing his cock in liquid fire. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her back resting against Blake’s chest as Kane fucked her in long, shuddering strokes, holding himself back. “Jesus, Sam, you are so tight like this,” he hissed. Samantha could only whimper as the hilt of Kane’s thick cock stroked her clit. She could feel Blake’s cock, just as big, rubbing between the globes of her ass. And just like that, she was ready for him. She wanted them both in her, making love to her, coming deep inside her. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world. She reached behind and wrapped her hand around Blake’s cock, stroking the hard length of him. He shuddered and groaned. “Blake?” she asked quietly, feeling him tense slightly in anticipation of what she might say. Kane slowed his pace, watching her face carefully. “Yes, baby?” His big hands covered her breasts, massaging gently. She arched into his hands. “I want… I need you in me,” she whispered. His voice shook as he answered. “Where do you want me?” “In my ass,” she said, unable to believe she was saying the words. But she did want it—more than anything. There was an odd popping sensation as he slid the plug out of her. “Wait a second,” he said, reaching for something on the shower floor. It was the lube he must have used before. He squeezed a generous amount into his hand and rubbed it on to her already slick anus. “It’ll help you relax,” he explained, positioning the head of his cock against her tight hole.

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“Tell us if it hurts, Sam. We’ll stop,” Kane reassured her. Samantha smiled, knowing he spoke the truth. Either of them would die before hurting her. She nodded, then gasped and held on to Kane’s shoulders, her nails digging in as Blake pushed forward slowly. The lubricant dulled the initial pain of his slow, patient invasion, and her nervousness eased. For a long moment, both men were very still, waiting. “Full” was the word that came to her mind later, but even that didn’t begin to describe the sensation. Then Blake twitched inside her and she realized she’d relaxed around him. There was a brief moment of complete elation when she realized that she could take them both—that she could pleasure both of her lovers at the same time, and that neither of them would ever have to be excluded. The future flashed through her imagination— a future for the three of them, together. For the first time, it seemed possible. Blake shuddered and drew in a hissing breath, running his hands along the curve of her waist. “God, Sam, you’re so beautiful,” he groaned. Then they began to move in her and all thought ceased. There was only sensation, the utterly erotic, wanton, abandoned sensation of being as full of her men as she could possibly get. Blake had wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her in place as he gently fucked her ass. She could hear his deep, rumbling growls of pleasure as he swept her hair aside to feast on her neck, nipping and licking her ear. Kane’s big hands covered her breasts, kneading gently. He slid his lips across hers in a sensual, ageless dance as he thrust his cock into her tight, weeping pussy in counterpoint to Blake’s slow, deep strokes. She swallowed his groans eagerly, adding her own keening cries of pleasure to theirs in the steamy room. Incredibly, she felt them both stiffen and knew they were both about to come in her. The thought made her wild with anticipation. Her pussy and anal muscles clenched as her own climax built. It seemed to start in her fingers and toes, gathering force as it

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swept through her limbs and settled low in her belly. For an aching, eternal second, Samantha stiffened, her entire body humming like a live wire, unable even to breathe. “Let go, love,” Kane purred against her lips. “Come for us.” Samantha howled as she came, wrapping her arms around Kane’s neck and arching against Blake as her climax seized her, racking her body with spasms of wild, delirious pleasure. Kane broke the kiss, throwing his head back with a shout. As one, he and Blake held her tight and plunged in to the hilt, pouring wave after wave of hot seed deep in her as she exploded around them. The world around her seemed to fall away. She felt distant, as though she were floating in a sea of sensation, safe in the arms of the men she loved. With that thought, she let go, succumbing to the beckoning darkness.

Kane felt Samantha go limp against him and he gathered her against his chest, leaning back against the tile wall for support. Blake turned off the water. “Sam?” Blake shook her shoulder gently, frowning. “I think she passed out,” Kane said, cradling her head against his shoulder. Blake smiled crookedly, smoothing her damp hair back from her serene face. Slowly he pulled out of her, stopping for a second when she frowned and stirred. He stepped back. Samantha woke slowly, renewing her grip on Kane. With a soft murmur, she rocked her hips against him, seating his still-hard cock fully in her again. He groaned. “You’ve ruined me,” he rumbled. “You’ve dashed my hopes for a life of purity and chastity.” She giggled and smiled up at him blearily. “I’ll send your regrets to the monastery.” He grinned back and kissed her on the nose. “Tell them I’ve converted, and will be devoting my life to goddess worship,” he said drolly, then fell silent, thinking ruefully that the statement wasn’t that far off base. Just the sight of her was enough to bring him to his knees. She looked more relaxed and happier than he’d ever seen her. Below her

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pert, little nose, her red lips were curved in a sensual smile that was reflected in her shining emerald eyes—a smile reserved for him and Blake alone. Her long, auburn hair, which she always wore up, tumbled like a river of fire down her back. Perfect, he thought with emotion. She’s perfect. So don’t screw it up. “Sam, I—” Kane began awkwardly then stopped. I love you, he wanted to say, but all of the obstacles that stood between them suddenly loomed before him like invisible monoliths, blocking his vision of a future with her. Samantha frowned. “What is it?” she asked, concerned. “I insist that you wear your hair down from now on,” he finished hoarsely. For a second, he thought he saw disappointment in her eyes, but it was gone so quickly that he couldn’t be sure. There was a brief, awkward silence as she gave him a searching look. “Oh,” she said finally. “Well, I wear it up so as not to get eaten by the machinery in the engine room,” she said wryly. “But if you insist—eep!” She squeaked as Blake, who had come up behind her during their stammering exchange, ran a cold washcloth over the sensitive entrance he had so recently enjoyed. Silently thanking Blake for the interruption, Kane held her still and tried to ignore her comically disapproving glare. Gently, he lifted her off him and helped her to her feet. Immediately, she set her fists on her hips, which made her breasts jiggle enticingly, ruining the intended effect. Kane couldn’t help smiling. Both he and Blake towered over her, but she stood her ground, her small, lusciously naked body radiating vexation. “Just because you can take certain liberties…back there,” Samantha blushed scarlet, and Kane’s smile widened. He would have to make her angry more often. “Does not mean I’ll like it when you freeze my…” she stopped again, blushing an even deeper red. “I do believe she’s having a sudden attack of propriety,” Kane said to his brother.

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Blake nodded, stroking his chin and adopting a concerned look. “For which there is only one known cure…” he said with mock seriousness. He took a purposeful step toward her. Her eyes wide, Samantha held out her hands as though to fend him off. “Oh, no. Don’t you—” Before she could finish, Blake lifted her unceremoniously over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He took her under the shower nozzle and turned it on full, holding her calves to keep her from kicking the faucet in her struggles. Ignoring her outraged squeal, he spread her knees apart, letting the spray fall on her naked, exposed flesh. She wriggled and protested loudly while he soaped and rinsed her in a most undignified fashion. By the time he was finished, she was out of breath from trying to escape. “There,” he said with a satisfied air, patting her ass. “No cold washcloth. Happy now?” “Hmph,” she replied icily. “I ought to… Oooh, I should… You are in so much trouble…” she sputtered. But her words ended in a gasp, then a whimper, as Blake slowly slid two fingers inside her, circling her clit with his thumb. “Better?” he asked in a low voice. Her answer was a soft moan, her body going pliant against him. Kane stepped forward and lifted her hands to his shoulders so that she could support herself. Brushing her wet hair back from her face, he captured her breathy cries as Blake worked his fingers in and out of her underneath the spray. Samantha’s fingernails dug deliciously into Kane’s shoulders, her kisses growing wilder and more desperate. Good God, the woman was responsive. “That’s a good girl,” Blake cooed, gently nipping her thigh as his fingers worked their magic between her legs. Samantha growled into Kane’s mouth at the questionable endearment but stopped the instant Blake’s hand slowed, threatening to stop pleasuring her. “What do you want, love?” Blake asked softly.

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The rhythm of her moans faltered as she considered the question and she broke the kiss with Kane, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. His gaze was so gentle as he stood there, the water beading on his short, tousled, blonde hair and long eyelashes. An intense, warm, glowing sensation settled in her chest and she felt suddenly giddy. She didn’t know exactly how to describe it—“love” seemed such an abused word—but it was strong, and it was good. Very, very good. Absurd, that she should suddenly feel this way while draped ignominiously over one of her lovers’ shoulders and gazing into the other’s eyes, but there it was. Kane and Blake were fun. Wild. Beautiful, inside and out. And they were profoundly honorable men. Her breath caught in her throat. She looked from one to the other, her soul utterly complete, deeply content. “I think I love you. Both of you,” she said quietly.

It was everything Blake had ever dared dream of, dared hope, and she’d just handed it to them here, now. He would never forget the sound of her voice saying those words. He felt the strength of Kane’s emotion running like an electric current beneath his own, and wondered for an insane moment if he were glowing like a live wire. Blake realized he’d been holding his breath and let it out slowly, carefully, as though he might explode with joy at any second. Like a man in a dream, he reached out blindly and turned off the water, never taking his eyes off her. He lowered Samantha to her feet and helped her get her balance as the blood rushed from her head. She giggled a bit giddily and pushed the lush mass of her hair back, tying it in a loose knot in a gesture so familiar it tugged at his heart. Then she stood still in front of Blake, looking from him to Kane, waiting quietly for them to respond. The problem was, he honestly wasn’t sure how he should respond. Words felt trite. He turned off the water, studying Samantha’s utterly guileless expression with wonder in his heart. “Say it again,” he blurted, desperate to watch the words fall from her lips. She didn’t hesitate.

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“I love you, Blake Damsen.” She turned to Kane, looking him square in the eye. “And I love you, Kane Damsen.” Blake felt his hesitation shatter like so much thin ice and he swept her into his arms with a loud whoop that resounded off the walls of the tiny bathroom. “Again,” he demanded. Samantha pushed on his shoulders in protest. “You first,” she insisted and he realized he hadn’t said it back. Feeling stupid, he set her down and knelt on one knee in front of her, ignoring the fact that he probably looked ridiculous, naked and wet. He took one of her hands and gave the other to Kane, who took it and joined him down on one knee. “I love you, Samantha Hartland,” they said in unison, kissing her hands.

Samantha marveled at the picture before her—Kane, with boyish mischief joining the love in his eyes, kneeling on the hard, wet tile as he kissed her hand. And Blake, with his serious, transparently honest expression, stroking her fingers with his own much larger ones. She was so overwhelmed that she thought she might burst. Silly, silly men. Wonderful men. Her men. “Shall we dry off and retire to the bed?” she asked. Kane wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, leaning forward to follow the trail of a drop of water to where it had fallen from her nipple. Samantha gasped. “I was thinking we’d lick you dry,” he said in a low voice that made her think of all things delicious. She beamed back at him. “Well,” she said, drawing out the word with feigned reluctance. Blake stood abruptly and literally swept her off her feet, ignoring her surprised squeak. He carried her gallantly into the bedroom and set her on the edge of the large bed, then stepped back to consider her, as though pondering his options. God, men shouldn’t be allowed to have eyes that beautiful. Samantha opened her arms imploringly. “Make love to me again,” she said simply, and her lovers, her men, came to her. 112

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Knowing she would be sore, Kane applied more of the salve with maddening care. Then he made love to her slowly, standing at the edge of the bed and sliding her to the edge, filling her, stretching her with his thick girth until she was wild with need. She wanted to take both of them again but knew she would be too sore, so she beckoned Blake to kneel over her. His cock bobbed enticingly in front of her and she took it in her mouth, sucking and licking the ruddy head until his groans echoed off the walls of the small room. Kane held her hips firmly as he brought her to climax with long, deep strokes. She cried out around Blake’s cock, welcoming them into her body as though they belonged there. And they did, she thought, they did belong here, with her, and she with them.

***** Samantha woke the next morning warmly ensconced in the strange, dual embrace she was fast becoming accustomed to. She lay facing Kane, his usually mercurial features quiet in sleep. Blake’s body was curled protectively around hers from behind, his knee resting between hers. He stirred, the stubble of his cheek tickling her between the shoulder blades and she stifled a giggle. Her stomach growled loudly. Breakfast was in order, she resolved. Disentangling herself from the men proved more difficult than she’d thought. “Like moving a tree trunk,” she muttered as she tried to lift Blake’s thigh off her own. He stirred and chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that warmed her all over. The laugh turned into a growl and he reached for her sleepily. She pushed his hand away. “Food first,” she insisted. Kane opened one eye, laughed and leaned forward to kiss her. She let him, returning the kiss with real passion, but once again her stomach began to protest. “Now we eat,” she insisted, and half-turned to look at Blake, patting his biceps to wake him further. “You cook.” The brothers dissolved into laughter. Blake laughed so hard he began to cough.

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“Boy, you’re…eloquent…in the morning,” Blake said between coughs and rolled to the side of the bed. “I’ll make us coffee.” Samantha’s expression softened. She’d forgotten about their stash of real coffee. “Excellent. Thank you.” For a second, she wondered if someone would smell the coffee in the corridor and come knocking, then she paused, realizing that it was the first time she’d thought of the outside world since they’d left the engine room the night before. Her heart flipped with mingled trepidation and joy. The new engine would arrive in just a few hours. But her stalker was still out there, somewhere.

***** The blade slid across the whetstone with a metallic sound that never failed to give him a hard-on. He liked sharp things. With laser pistols, no one thought to use knives anymore. In fact, people routinely underestimated how deadly a blade could be. A good blade, wielded by a master, was lethal within twenty feet of a person. Flesh was so soft, so vulnerable, he mused. Samantha wasn’t in her quarters—hadn’t been since he’d paid her a visit the night before. His Samantha, he corrected himself. He’d been waiting for her for two years. Two long years. Thin, cruel lips pulled back over a set of too-white teeth. He knew that much from the tiny camera he’d installed to spy on her. He’d been looking forward to watching her sleep, but all he got for his trouble was hours of footage of an empty, wellmade bed. The camera did catch a few other, interesting moments. She’d come back to her quarters with the Damsen twins—both of them. After seeing the aftermath of his anger, she’d left with the communications officer. The helmsman had stayed long after, cleaning up her room and collecting evidence, which he’d left behind. He cursed his own sloppiness under his breath. He’d been angry, not thinking about the consequences, wanting to show her what he’d do to her for her outright dismissal of him. For once, he was grateful The Adamant wasn’t research-class—it didn’t carry a DNA sequencer. The Stronghold, however, did. He tipped his chair back and interlaced 114

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his fingers behind his head thoughtfully. He’d have to fix that before security thought to run his DNA through it. And he had two other things to fix. Blake and Kane Damsen. The previous evening, he’d hacked into the ship’s security system to erase the image of him entering her quarters. What he found pissed him off even more. His wayward little Samantha had ignored his note completely and gone instead to the Damsen twins. That must have been a fucking interesting little ménage. In his quarters, he roared aloud and threw the knife across the room. It hit the mirror above his small sink, shattering the glass and piercing the wall beyond, sinking in a good two inches. Righting his chair, he stood and crossed the room to survey the damage appreciatively. He smiled. Perhaps, in his rage, he’d done a good thing by destroying her quarters. Once she got over losing her things, she’d have to be impressed by his sheer strength and appetite for her. The little slut would be needing that appetite. Fuck the Damsen twins, would she? He’d teach her better than that. Grabbing the knife’s hilt, he wrenched it out of the wall and ran his thumb along the blade where it had hit. A drop of blood appeared. Still sharp. Pleased, he set the weapon down on his desk. Tonight was going to be a good night.

***** “The Stronghold is here?” Samantha all but squealed. Kane nodded, restraining the urge to put a hand over her mouth. She looked at him apologetically. “Sorry,” she offered, “but it’s carrying a T-55 spin-drive. You know that, right? I’ve never even seen one of those babies!” The two of them were alone in the Damsens’ quarters, Blake manning the helm. “And I got you a dress,” he added, unable to restrain himself anymore. The Stronghold’s captain had arrived on the bridge forty-five minutes ago to announce that there would be a feast on board her vessel at twenty-two hundred hours, in honor of the two ships meeting. A party. Kane tried the word on for size again, unable to suppress a broad grin. After two years of nothing but business, it would feel

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great to have a little merriment on board. He looked at Samantha. She was still gaping at him. “It’s for the party.” “Oh,” she said, still frowning. “There’s going to be a party on board The Stronghold tonight. For fun. Remember fun?” Samantha’s eyes lit up but she scratched her head dramatically. “Fun… Fuh—un. What is this fun?” she asked playfully. Kane felt as if nothing could put a damper on his joy. By God, there was going to be a party, and by God, they were going to wine and dine Samantha. Hopefully, plying her just a little with wine would help with the suggestion they wanted to make. It certainly couldn’t hurt, Kane thought with a twinge of guilt. But if it worked, the three of them could be together. He and Blake had talked it over extensively while Samantha slept the night before. There was a perfect, flawless way to solve their predicament. All three of them would transfer to The Stronghold after the new spin-drive was installed. Langley was more than capable of running the upgraded engine and could easily take over Samantha’s post. They would soon be passing a space station, a waypoint to their ultimate destination. A little research on the sly had revealed a couple of officers who’d recently put in applications for transfer, and they would doubtless be happy to take over the Damsen twins’ posts on board The Adamant. Research-class vessels were always in the market for more potential colonists. He’d probably have no trouble at all persuading The Stronghold to take them on. The hard part, he reflected, would be persuading Samantha to leave her post as The Adamant’s Chief Engineer—a job she’d worked long and hard to get. Both he and Blake felt guilty asking her to do it, but the solution seemed so perfect, they just had to ask. They’d transfer and voilà—problems solved. Well, some of them, anyway. Without the pressure of being the ship’s only woman on her, Samantha wouldn’t have to worry 116

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about a public relationship with him and Blake. Ménage relationships were actually fairly common in the colonies, where men outnumbered the women two-to-one on average. As for the stalker, Kane had no illusions that he would let her go without a fight, but he was spoiling for one. No more of this hide-and-seek crap. Blake had found the stalker’s camera in Samantha’s quarters but he’d left it where it was. Kane had looped the feed of Samantha’s empty quarters so they could come and go as they pleased without the stalker knowing. The problem with The Plan was that it would be a major sacrifice for Samantha. She would most likely have to accept a major demotion in order to transfer. He and Blake would too, but they’d agreed there was no competition between their jobs and Samantha. Would it be the same for her, though? Would she be happy leaving The Adamant if it meant she could be with them? If Samantha agreed to The Plan—and that felt like a big if to Kane—he and Blake planned to let word of their impending transfer slip. Hopefully it would force the stalker’s hand and they could be rid of him. It was just a matter of keeping her safe. Very, very safe. Samantha’s soft voice pierced his thoughts. “You look like you’re thinking really, really hard about something. Is there something I should know?” she asked. Kane reddened. “No, baby. Just imagining you in this dress.” Samantha raised an eyebrow. “Is it decent, at least?” she asked. He smiled. “Yes, it’s decent. Vintage-decent, actually. Blake picked it out of the library of early twenty-first century fashions,” he assured her. Samantha’s eyebrow went up even more. “Blake picked it out?” she asked. “Will you just put it on, gorgeous? The party starts in an hour.” “An hour? All right, give it here.”

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Samantha hesitated, then held out her hands to Kane, managing a smile of thanks. Changing his mind at the last second, Kane took the box back from her and set it on the dresser, pulling her into his arms. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it. Blake’s ego will survive,” he reassured her, leaning down to place a quick kiss on her mouth. She smiled gratefully. “Thanks.” She considered the box. “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’ve just never been much of a dress-wearer. As you might have guessed,” she added wryly, making a gesture that encompassed her black uniform. He shrugged. “Just try it. You might like it more than you think,” he said. “And we want you to have fun tonight. Lots and lots and…” he trailed off, capturing her silken mouth with his own. “And lots of fun,” he finished in a whisper. She shivered against him. “That sounds…very nice,” she said hesitantly.

Samantha looked hard at Kane’s zealously earnest expression, as though she might read there what was behind his incredible exuberance. “I still think there’s something you’re not telling me,” she said quietly. Usually, she liked surprises—life comes at you as it will, she thought—but with all that was going on, she wasn’t sure about whatever was on Kane’s mind. She looked at him closely, placing one finger against his lips and looking into his dancing eyes with what she hoped was an extremely serious expression. “Just tell me one thing. It’s not about the stalker, is it?” “Oh God, no,” Kane answered immediately and Samantha smiled happily. He was hiding something, but she believed him—it wasn’t about the stalker. Anything else, she could handle. She nodded, then picked up the box and headed for the bathroom to change. Hell, it wasn’t as if she had a bunch of fancy clothes to choose from. A dress would be nice.

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Chapter Nine Samantha considered herself appreciatively in the mirror. The dress was to die for, she thought, then cringed at her choice of words. It was a gorgeously simple affair, a cascade of deep green velvet—velvet the color of her eyes—running from two ribbon straps at her shoulders down to her ankles. A slit in the bottom ran halfway up her thigh. She eyed the slit critically, wondering if it was too much. Most likely, her stalker would be at the party, as would her engineering crew. She’d spent two years trying to get them to see her as an officer first, a woman second. If she went dressed like this, all of that work could be for naught. The thought of returning to the sidelong glances she’d endured in the first month of their deployment made her cringe. A pretty woman, Samantha was used to the fact that she attracted men’s attention. She’d always believed that if a crewman registered “officer” the first time he saw her, he could spend an eternity wondering about what was underneath her uniform without harm. She turned a circle in front of the mirror, enjoying the feel of the velvet sliding against her skin. The little voice in her head caught her by surprise. Do you really think nobody knows you’ve been staying with the twins? She sighed. Of course they knew. Somebody would have seen her walking through the Damsens’ door and that would have been it. Gossip traveled faster than light on a small ship like The Adamant. Samantha made a face in the mirror, imagining the reaction from her crewmen if she walked in on one—or both—of her men’s arms. Oddly, the idea held some appeal for her. It might be worth it, just to see the looks on their faces. Of course there was her stalker, who probably would not take kindly to the news that she was with the Damsens. Would he try to hurt Blake and Kane? The thought had her

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heart racing. How the hell was she—they, she corrected herself—going to get out of this in one piece? What a mess. She looked over at the shower, remembering. They had been so tender, so loving. She smiled. It was worth it. She had lucked into two of the most handsome, most caring men in the universe, she just had to have the guts to claim them. It really was that simple…and that difficult.

***** Blake entered their quarters wearing his black, tuxedo-like dress uniform just as Samantha emerged from the bathroom wearing the dress he’d given her. He stopped abruptly, only vaguely registering his brother’s mirror surprise. The long, sleeveless dress hugged her curves just as he’d imagined it would. No, he amended, it looked much, much better than he’d imagined. She wore her red hair loose around her shoulders and it fell to the center of her back. He itched to touch it. “Sam, you look beautiful,” Blake said when he could speak again. A blush crept up her collarbone, turning her cheeks pink. “Thank you,” she replied simply, and turned her green gaze to Kane. There was a brief but palpable silence. Blake realized he was going to have to pick his brother’s jaw up off the floor for him. She’s waiting for you to say something, dipshit, he said sardonically in their shared mental space. Kane’s jaw snapped shut audibly. “You put the stars to shame, Sam,” he said softly, his adoration written plainly on his face. Her blush deepened. “Thanks, Kane,” she murmured, slightly abashed. Then she straightened and held out her arms solicitously, as a gentleman does for a lady. Smiling brightly, she asked, “Shall we?” Laughing, the two men joined her.

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The party was everything she could have wanted—music, food, dancing… Dancing. She’d forgotten how much she liked to dance. The music ranged from classical to esoteric, and Samantha found herself swept onto the dance floor numerous times by Blake and Kane, who insisted on taking turns like boys with a new toy. Frankly, Samantha was having too good a time to mind being that toy. The Stronghold’s captain had pulled out all the stops. Open flames being prohibited in such circumstances, the crew had done a rather impressive job of simulating candlelight ambience, even going so far as to create a false fireplace in one corner of the large, beautiful meeting hall. The dance floor was lit from beneath with LEDs. It felt, she thought, like dancing on stars. “Enjoying yourself?” Kane whispered in her ear as they stepped onto the dance floor for a tango. Samantha beamed at him. “Immensely.” Kane’s arm tightened around her as the first beats of the music began and he leaned her back, keeping her slightly off balance, dependent on her partner, in the ancient tradition of tango. She wrapped her arms around his neck, fighting the urge to kiss him. As he brought her back to standing and they turned to cross the room as a pair, Samantha wrinkled her nose at Blake, who was sipping a glass of scotch back at their table. He’d refused her invitation to this particular dance. “Chicken,” she scoffed. “My brother doesn’t tango. He sends his apologies.” They stepped in unison, his leg forward, hers back, hip-to-hip. The friction of his slacks against her dress was perfectly naughty, just like the dance. “Sam,” Kane whispered as he dipped her, “you know we’d do anything for you. Anything at all.” She frowned. “It sounds like there’s a ‘but’ coming.” “No, love. No buts. Just something Blake and I want you to consider. An idea we had,” he said. They parted to the music and she stepped around him lightly. He turned

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and caught her firmly and she had to suppress an “ooh” at the way his hard chest felt against her. “Yes?” “Well,” Kane began, leaning her back, keeping her just off balance so that she had to hold tightly to him, “Blake and I thought you might consider transferring to The Stronghold with us.” She missed a step and he caught her. “But why… Oh,” she broke off, comprehension dawning. She bit her lip thoughtfully. Wow. What a thought. The gravity in the room suddenly felt off kilter. “All three of us?” “Yes,” Kane said. Then, his voice gaining enthusiasm, he continued, “All three of us. It’s a better gig in a lot of ways, love. Bigger ship, fewer…problems.” Yes, she could see that. And she could see herself going with them, all too easily. Giving up everything she’d worked so hard for. Was she really ready to do that? She looked thoughtfully into Kane’s blue eyes, then across the room at Blake. “You keep that up, your face is going to freeze like that,” Kane said gently. “What do you say, Sam? We’ve looked into it. It wouldn’t be hard to arrange.” “You looked into it?” she asked querulously, irritation sparking. Could they have involved her in this a little earlier? “Not like that, baby,” he protested. “We just wanted to know if it was even a possibility before we asked—” Samantha cut him off. “Before you asked me to ditch my career?” Kane shook his head wordlessly. “Sam, you’re reading this all wrong…” “Am I?” The music drew to a halt. Samantha stepped back from Kane and headed for the edge of the dance floor, biting her lip, torn. The idea was so appealing. It would be so easy to let everything go, to go with them, to be—to be what? Their love slave? Their wife? They’d said they loved her, but what did that mean, practically speaking? That 122

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they’d get married and land on a colony planet and have a house with a picket fence, 2.5 children and a pet from the local fauna? That she’d never work on an engine again? Her heart twisted at the thought of giving up The Adamant. She’d wanted this commission badly, worked hard for it. She could hear Kane behind her, calling to her, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t talk to them about it—not until she calmed down and thought it through. She’d get her purse and head for the ladies’ room, away from the music and loud chatter, where she could think. As she approached the table, Blake stood and held his hand out to her, a concerned look on his face. “Sam, please, we didn’t mean—” She looked back at Kane, who was holding back a few feet behind her, giving her space. Why did they have to be so darned considerate? She made an effort to smile. “I know you didn’t, guys. I just have to think for a minute, okay? I’ll be back,” she said, lifting her purse from the table. Blake opened his mouth, seemed to think better of it and closed it again. “All right,” he bit out, clearly unhappy leaving her alone. “I won’t go far, okay?” she conceded. He nodded, glancing to Kane. Clearly, neither of them liked it. Well, neither did she, for that matter, but she had to think. Samantha gathered herself and started off through the crowd of well-dressed, tipsy bodies. She was thinking so hard about what Kane had said that she nearly screamed when a hand landed hard on her shoulder. She turned abruptly. “Blake, I said I’d be right back—” But it wasn’t Blake. “Oh God, Langley,” she said in a rush. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.” “It’s all right,” he said, holding up his hand gallantly. “You looked like you were thinking about something upsetting and I thought I’d cheer you up.” Samantha looked at him quizzically. “Cheer me up?”

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He grinned, the expression oddly wolfish on his long face. “The new spin-drive. It’s in the cargo hold. A bunch of us are going over to see it. Want to come?” Samantha brightened immediately. If he was looking to cheer her up, Langley had certainly hit the right spot. She smiled at him broadly. “Yes, of course I want to see it. When are you all going?” “Right now.” Langley offered her his hand. She took it, noticing how cold his long fingers felt in hers. Not at all like the twins’ hands, she thought. Now that wasn’t fair. Since when was she comparing men? Since you fell in love, that annoying, honest little voice in her head told her gently. They worked their way through the crowd to a big, ornate archway at the end of the room. “Nice ship, huh?” Langley asked conversationally. “It is beautiful,” Samantha returned vacantly, imagining what it would be like to live on The Stronghold, a research ship with gorgeous rooms and plush quarters. No gray paint here. And she’d heard it had an M-88 warp drive, which was about—oh—a gazillion steps above the updated spin-drive it was carrying for The Adamant. “Wait until you see the new drive,” Langley said. “I took a peek earlier, she’s gorgeous.” Samantha frowned. The new drive was an upgrade and she knew Langley was an old-fashioned soul. Why would he be so enamored of the new drive? She shook her head to clear it. Something felt off. Or was she just being paranoid? She’d worked closely with Langley for two years now, and she just couldn’t see him as the stalker type. Langley stopped under the archway and looked around, puzzled. “Archer and Renfield must have gone ahead of us. I told them to wait,” he said, annoyed. Samantha smiled. “I’m sure they were just excited,” she said. They stood in the archway for a moment, looking around awkwardly.

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“Why don’t we meet them there?” Langley suggested. Samantha hesitated, looking at him closely. The request made sense. And she did really want to see that new drive. What better way to clear her head? God, she didn’t want to be stupid—but this was Langley, for chrissake. She nodded, forcing a smile. “Sure. Let’s go.” She followed him out of the large hall and into a corridor. They walked in companionable silence for a while before Langley spoke up. “You look very beautiful tonight.” Samantha stifled a sigh. She appreciated the compliment, but this was just the kind of attention she hadn’t wanted to attract this evening. Well, not from anyone not named Damsen, anyway. “Thank you,” she said, trying to sound professional and detached. “So tell me about the drive,” she added conversationally, trying to change the subject. “I noticed you came in with the Damsen twins,” Langley said. Was that a little strain she noticed in his voice? She risked a sidelong glance at him. He smiled at her but his eyes were cold, empty. Damn. Not good. She knew jealousy when she saw it. Was he still pissed at Kane for dismissing him from Engineering yesterday? She should have thought this through before, anticipated it. Her palms felt suddenly cold, her tongue slow. Not sure how to answer him, she kept silent. “You’ve been dancing with them, Samantha. All night.” That did it. Samantha stopped walking and faced him. It was time to nip this in the bud. “I don’t see how that’s your concern, Langley.” His eyes blazed suddenly and he grabbed her arm with a grip like a steel vise. Samantha stifled a scream. “You know damn well it’s my concern.” He spat the word back at her. He thrust his free hand down, as though to shake something loose, and she saw a glint of steel in his palm. Was that a knife? She gritted her teeth and forced herself to meet his dark gaze, her heart pounding. “It’s my concern who you dance with, just like it’s my concern who you fuck. Did you fuck them, you little whore?” Langley seized her hair, pulling her inch by 125

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struggling inch until their faces were so close that her nose touched his. Samantha gritted her teeth to catch the whimper that wanted to emerge. His breath was hot on her lips, and this close to him, she could see the deep, hard lines in his long face twist into a mask of rage. How had she missed this? Langley had always seemed so harmless with his oldfashioned ways and his… The thought trailed off as she remembered the note. Sent on a vidcard. Who even uses vidcards anymore? The memory of Kane’s question made her want to cry. She should have known. Samantha shut her eyes tight, feeling tears run down her cheeks and hating them. “Now walk.” He released her hair and seized the back of her dress, shoving her in front of him where he could hold the knife at the center of her back. Her scalp throbbed from the ill treatment and she stumbled. Damn high heels. Damn dress. What had she been thinking? But Samantha knew what she’d been thinking. She’d wanted to look pretty, feminine, for Blake and Kane. She’d been thinking about them—and little else—for the past forty-eight hours. If she’d been thinking more clearly, she might have seen it earlier. Now she’d probably be fighting for her life…in high heels. Brilliant, Sam. Samantha was a well-trained fighter, but she’d never seen anything like the look in Langley’s eyes just now. Vicious. Determined. Utterly ruthless. To beat him, she’d have to match, maybe exceed that brutality—and she didn’t know if she had it in her. Well, we’ll find out, won’t we? she thought in a nervous rush. “Where are we going?” she asked conversationally, the question feeling completely ridiculous. For a second, the only sound was the staccato clicking of her accursed heels echoing in the corridor—the completely-devoid-of-human-life-except-for-me-and-themadman corridor. I’ve lost him. I’ve set him off somehow, Samantha thought desperately. But then he answered.

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“To see the new engine, sweet. You don’t think I’d deny you that pleasure?” His cold fingers snaked around the back of her neck and rested there in a parody of a lover’s touch. “Are you going to stab me with that?” she asked, gesturing toward the knife. He smacked her hand. “Keep your hands in front of you,” he barked and she suppressed a sigh. So the obvious tricks weren’t going to work. “Oh no, love, I’m not going to hurt you. How could you think that?” he asked solicitously. He sounded genuinely injured. Well, I don’t know, maybe it’s the knife in my back, Samantha thought sarcastically. He really was off his rocker. She tried to remember the note. He thought he loved her, thought they had something special. Experimentally, she turned her head back and forth in his too-tight lover’s grip. “You’re hurting me now,” she said, trying to sound timid. His fingers curled tighter and she saw stars. “Don’t try that ‘damsel in distress’ crap with me, Samantha. I know you’re tougher than that. It’s why we fit together so well. Or we will, once the Damsens are out of the way.” Her heart sped up. He was going after the twins. They came to a set of double doors. Langley steered her through them. On the other side the corridor opened up into an enormous, two-story room with a second set of doors, these far larger than the first. That would be the storage bay, she thought. As they neared the access keypad, Langley’s fingers stole up into her hair again, his grip cruelly, inescapably tight. She whimpered, hating the sound but hoping he’d respond to it. “I’m truly sorry, baby, but this is what happens when you run away from destiny. And this—” he pressed the flat of the blade to her throat.

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She stilled in his grasp. He handled the long knife so competently, she thought with despair. Her throat burned where he’d touched her—just lightly—with the blade. The thing had to be incredibly sharp. “This is what I will use to cut the heart out of any man who has soiled what’s mine.” He leaned close enough for her to feel his breath, hot and moist, on her ear. “They’ll come running, you know, when they figure out you’re missing.” A sob tore from her throat. Kane and Blake. He was going to use her as bait. “Don’t cry, sweet,” he said, speaking as though to a distraught child. “This isn’t an end. It’s our beginning. The beginning of our life together.” Samantha’s throat clogged with mute terror. She couldn’t stop the tears that coursed hotly down her cheeks. “Fine,” he bit out, and dragged her through the double doors by her hair. “You’ll be happy in time. You have to be. You’ll be with me,” he finished thoughtfully, and she had the sense he was speaking more to himself than to her. She wanted to scream at him, but decided against it. Only an idiot poked a rabid animal with a stick. Then she heard it, the sound she’d known would come—running feet. They were coming to find her. The thought brought an odd mixture of fear, relief and despair. Langley seemed so incredibly strong, and apparently ruthlessly determined to have her. At the same time, it would be three against one when they got here. Yeah, right, she thought dismally. More like two against one with a big bargaining chip—a hostage in high heels. Langley shifted the knife to her back just as the double doors slammed open. Someone activated the emergency release and the lights in the room flashed to life just as Langley pulled her behind a large row of storage pallets. The knife cut through the back of her dress, leaving a small red scratch on her skin. “Careful, love, it’s sharp,” Langley said with exaggerated gentleness, and tugged her along behind the rows of pallets. He was leading her over to where the new spindrive sat, cold and motionless, on top of a pallet of rations. Samantha’s heart sank 128

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despite her grave situation. A perfect piece of machinery, being used like a big paperweight. “Samantha!” Blake’s voice echoed strangely in the huge room. It was now or never. Samantha threw her head back into Langley’s and felt his nose break under the blow. His grip on her hair loosened and she wrenched herself free, though it felt as though she’d left half her scalp in his hand. “Bitch!” Growling like a caged animal, Langley dove for her as she scrambled away, and succeeded in seizing her arm. The hand holding the knife came up then down in a wide arc and Samantha watched with a strange kind of detachment as the knife sank into her arm, leaving a long gash that instantly gushed blood. “Kane! It’s Langley!” Blake’s voice sounded close by. She felt Langley’s viselike grip around her waist and then he was hauling her to her feet. “Dammit, bitch, stand!” Langley dragged her small body backward, her arm swinging uselessly, dripping blood, as he tried to pull them both around the end of the row of pallets. Then Samantha heard Kane’s voice behind them, low and deadly. “Put. Her. Down.” Samantha felt Langley stiffen behind her. She turned her head, fighting the fog that was settling over her brain. Kane was behind them, holding a laser pistol to Langley’s head. Langley roared with rage and raised the knife in front of her, preparing to bring it down into her chest. She twisted in his grasp, trying to avoid the blade. There was the sound of a laser pistol being fired, and then she and Langley were falling together. The impact was softened by Langley’s body beneath her, but his hip landed on her injured arm. Samantha felt and heard the sickening sound of bone snapping, and then pain like nothing she’d ever felt before shot up her arm. A scream echoed in the cavernous room, and it was a moment before she realized she was the one who had screamed. “Blake!” Kane sounded panicked as he dragged the inert Langley off her. Was Langley dead? “Blake! I need help!” 129

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Samantha looked up at him. His blue eyes were bright with fear. Why? Langley was gone, right? Kane had shot him. Then Kane was ripping off his shirt and tearing it into long shreds. “Why are you doing that?” she asked dumbly. She felt dizzy and sick. “Don’t try to talk, baby. Just lie still.” Blake’s pounding steps coming closer, then his hands were on her. His wonderful, big hands. She smiled. It didn’t hurt as much now. In fact, she felt sleepy. “Sam? Stay awake, baby.” Kane was doing something to her arm and a sudden stab of pain jarred her awareness. “Two minutes,” she heard Blake say. “I know, I know. Tighten the tourniquet.” Tourniquet? Oh, right, she’d been cut. Her body felt cold. A sudden thought occurred to her. Was she dying? “Am I—?” she began, but Kane cut her off again. Mild irritation tinged her thoughts. “Shhh. You’re going to be fine, babe. Just fine. Don’t try to talk.” Movement. More pulling on her arm. “Ow!” “All done, babe. Doc’s coming. Just stay awake.” All done with what? She really, really wanted to know what was happening, but couldn’t focus enough to ask. It was damn frustrating. A kind, elderly face appeared in her field of vision. “Hi, Samantha, I’m Dr. Kaplan. You’re going to be just fine.” “What happened?” she managed, and felt inordinately proud of herself for doing so. His brow furrowed slightly. “You lost a lot of blood, and you need to be still.” A gnarled but competent hand descended on her forehead. It felt warm. Good. “You’re

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going to feel a poke in your arm, then you’re going to rest a while.” Rest? She didn’t want to rest. Samantha tried to shake her head, but pain shot down her arm again. “Sam,” Blake said, leaning over her. “Shh. Just sleep. We’ll be here when you wake up. It’s going to be fine.” Samantha held his gentle, gray gaze for a second, wondering if he spoke for her benefit or his own. She decided it didn’t matter and nodded, trying to look unafraid. There was a slight twinge in her uninjured arm, a warm feeling rushing through her body and then…darkness.

***** There were voices around her. Familiar ones. Voices she liked, deep and resonant, comforting. A hand over each of hers, holding, stroking. Behind her eyelids, she could tell the room was softly lit but she wasn’t ready to be awake. Not just yet. Better to lie still, listen to the nice voices. “I don’t care, Blake. I’ll stay on The Adamant for the rest of my life if it’s where she’ll be. Jesus, we almost lost her.” “All I’m saying is I think we’d be happier on The Stronghold, her included. There’s a post in engineering open—” “I don’t give a damn. She’s one of three female Chief Engineers in the fleet. She’s staying on The Adamant and keeping her post. If we have to be secretive, so be it.” Samantha opened her eyelids a fraction. The two men were on opposite sides of the bed, each holding one of her hands, facing off…over the future. Their future. “Do I have a vote?” Samantha asked. The men fell instantly silent, their full attention on her. “Hey there, love. We didn’t mean to wake you. You can go back to sleep,” Blake said, his voice urgent and low. “It’s okay,” she said, trying not to slur her words. She still felt drugged, foggy. “I did some thinking while I was asleep.” 131

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Kane laughed softly and leaned on the edge of her bed. “Thinking?” “You were talking about us transferring… To The Stronghold, right? Just now?” She was having trouble with words. “Yeah, Sam,” Kane answered. “You have the deciding vote. We’ll stay on The Adamant if you want. All three of us. We can be discreet about… About us.” Samantha took a second to digest this information. There was something else she had to know… “Langley?” she asked. “Gone. Killed in the fight.” Kane’s face was very still, encouraging her not to ask. She didn’t. She didn’t want to know. Part of her missed her old friend, but then he’d never really been that person, had he? All that mattered now was that he was gone. And she had a decision to make. “There’s an engineering post open on The Stronghold, huh?” she asked. Blake looked chagrined. “You heard that?” She grinned weakly. “Yep.” Blake sighed. “It’s not Chief Engineer. You’d be his second. His name’s Atkinson— seems like a nice guy.” “What about you guys? Won’t you lose your posts?” Kane smiled. “We’ve actually been hoping for a transfer for a long time. But no, there are openings here on The Stronghold for us too.” He looked thoughtful, then added quickly, “But we don’t have to do any of that if you don’t want to, Sam. We can stay on The Adamant.” Samantha shook her head. “I like The Stronghold too.” Their faces brightened as they took in what she was saying. “When did you decide that?” Kane asked.

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“About the time I saw that grand ballroom of a meeting hall. And heard they had an M-88 drive. Heck, I’d take a knock back down to ensign to work on one of those things.” Blake and Kane beamed at her. Blake lifted her hand to kiss it. “It’s decided, then. We’ll transfer and live here.” “I do have one requirement,” Samantha said seriously. They nodded. “Whatever you want, babe.” “I want to get married.” If it were possible, the men’s smiles broadened. “Okay,” Kane said, sounding choked. “And I’m not living on a colony. I’m a star-sailor. I want to live on board ship.” “We wouldn’t dream of asking you to live on one of those planets,” Blake said, frowning. “Excellent,” Samantha said and closed her eyes. “It’s decided, then.”

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Epilogue “Ow!” Samantha protested as Blake stripped the last bit of gauze from her neck. “Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Kane chided, rubbing the offended skin. He and Blake sat on either side of her on the bunk in their new quarters on The Stronghold, gloriously shirtless and regarding her with a mixture of pride and lust. She stretched her neck and put her hand to the sensitive spot at the base of her throat where the wedding tattoo—a Celtic triad—had been etched into her skin. “You were worse,” Blake scoffed at him. “I thought Emily was going to have to sedate you.” “That needle hurts when it goes over your collarbone!” Kane protested. He and Blake had been able to get their tattoos a month before she could. Dr. Kaplan had insisted she wait because of her injured arm. Apparently, Langley had come within a fraction of an inch of severing her brachial artery, a fact that made the dear physician jumpy about her return to duty—and to her anxious husbands. The ceremony had been performed in the hospital wing just after their transfers had gone through, with best wishes from The Adamant’s captain and crew. Jewelry was hard to come by in space, so the three of them had settled on matching tattoos. “It’ll be safer for you anyway,” Kane had said, thinking of her work with machinery. “Move your hand, Sam, so we can see,” Kane said anxiously, and she smiled. Blake gave him a quelling look. “Give her a second, Kane.” They had both been incredibly eager and solicitous since she’d moved from the hospital wing into their new quarters that afternoon, treating her as if she might break.

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“Guys, quit. I’m fine,” she said, laughing, and moved her hand obligingly. It was true. Dr. Kaplan had cleared her “for all activity” that afternoon, smiling very slightly as he’d written the orders. He knew how crazy the wait for her had made Kane and Blake. There was a brief moment of silence as her husbands regarded the tattoo artist’s work. While they did, she looked at theirs. The Celtic triad tattooed at the base of each man’s throat was beautiful—an overlapping, interwoven knot of three. Perfect. “Well?” she asked, curious. “What do you think?” Blake’s gray gaze took on that feral quality that made her blood run hot. When she looked to Kane, his blue eyes were scorching. “I think,” he said, touching her shoulder and pushing back gently, “that you need to lie down and let us conduct a more thorough examination.” The End

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About the Author Alexis Reed has been writing since she was ten years old. Her first book was written on a 26-pound “compact” computer with a 5-inch screen and reached 52 pages, single-spaced. Many years later, she read her first romance novel and was instantly in love. In 2006, she started working on her first novel. Alexis graduated from the Pennsylvania State University with a Master’s degree in English in 2000. Besides her fiction work, she spent six years as a professional editor and grant writer. She lives with her husband Rob and their two young sons. Their home is full of love and laughter—and a lot of mischief. Fortunately, they have two cats and a 12-pound schnoodle named Goliath to run the place.

Alexis welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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