His Virtual Bride Page 10

  "Just as far as your outer door," Keely said. "That's as far as we'll need your help."

  Le Roi glanced at Geoff, then focused on Keely as if trying to read her mind. Or her woman's heart, Geoff amended. He wouldn't look there --not if Le Roi had in fact beaten her.

  "She telling the truth?" Le Roi wanted to know.

  "From what I know about her…" Geoff paused long enough to make Le Roi grow pale. To hear Keely reset the power level on her blaster. To watch the man's face turn as white as a Marsian could. "She doesn't lie."

  Still looking pale and skeptical, Le Roi nodded.

  "Tell your receptionist you're joining old friends for lunch. Don't worry, Mr. Mayor, you'll be back long before the hour is up. I just don't want her popping in and finding us all gone."

  "Good idea." He conveyed the message, using the same words Keely had used.

  "Now show us the back way out."

  The back way out meandered through the mayor's private and luxurious bathroom and through Sedna's council chambers. The exit sign blinked on and off in alternating pulses of red and purple. Le Roi shrugged as if apologizing. "The law requires all public buildings to have the egresses clearly identified."

  "That's nice," Keely complimented as she shot him.

  "You…you…you…"

  "Lied," she said as Le Roi collapsed into Geoff's arms.

  "Now what?" Geoff asked, laughing despite the continuing danger surrounding them.

  "The first thing we need to do is disable the alarm on the door. Which fortunately I can do." Running her hands over it, she grunted and grinned up at him.

  "You can read Sednan?"

  "Apparently. Emergency Exit Only seemed pretty obvious. To me anyway. Door Alarmed was a little tricky to decipher."

  "He lied."

  "Yep. Never meant for us to get away. Can you hold him a little longer? Herma-Frodie should be here any time now."

  "I'm not even going to ask how you know that. And yes, I can hold him."

  Keely carefully opened the door, then peered out. Sliding one arm around Le Roi's waist, one arm over Geoff's shoulder, they carried the seemingly drunk mayor to the waiting transpo-scooter. Herma revved the scooter's engine. Frodie rode shotgun, his smile wide.

  "Praise Jove," Frodie said, "this road only goes one way."

  With Le Roi seated between them, Geoff and Keely nodded at Herma-Frodie. "Take off," Herma shouted as she launched.

  The road might only go one way, but it was also wide enough to allow passing. And speed. In half the time the inbound trip had taken, they reached Sedna's spaceport.

  "Nicely done, Herma," Keely praised.

  "You have a brig on No-Name?" Geoff and Frodie wrestled groggy Le Roi out of the scooter.

  "She can make one."

  "Do it."

  "Le Roi's coming with us?"

  "You betcha."

  "Just Geoff, you have a mean streak. I think I like it."

  Mars-Paris' Palace

  Geoff and Keely led the parade into Paris' private office. Herma-Frodie accompanied a healthy Sednan male.

  "Thought you might enjoy meeting one of your great–uncle's citizens," Geoff told the Marsian queen, shoving the Sednan to his knees.

  "Kiki," the Sednan pleaded as he morphed into Le Roi at her feet.

  "Paris," she corrected automatically, flicking an uncaring glance at her great-uncle. Looking up at Geoff, she said, "Welcome back. I see you've brought me company." Judging her sour expression, she wasn't happy to see her great-uncle. Sighing, she motioned them into chairs.

  Never one to start a conversation when she could make visitors uncomfortable and on-edge, Paris steepled her fingers and leaned back in her chair. Her moss-green eyes focused on Geoff, but Keely spoke first.

  "We want to make a deal," she informed Paris, leaning forward to brace her elbows on the table. When the Marsienne simply smiled, she added, "With you."

  "I'm listening."

  "Listen good, you self-serving--" Geoff rumbled as if the words stuck in his throat.

  Keely's glare felt like a hard punch to his jaw.

  "Maybe we should talk--just you and I." Paris nodded at Keely.

  Keely shook her head. "Sorry, Majesty. Geoff has a vested interest in this. He needs to hear all of what you have to say."

  Paris nodded like a queen granting her serf permission to speak.

  "We want to exchange The Honey for your great-uncle. If, that is, the spaceship you have--"

  "If?" Geoff roared, surging to his feet.

  "Commander." Paris spoke softly, but the word silenced Geoff like a shouted order from the Admiral himself. "Ms. Ketchum, please continue."

  Geoff sat down but he kept his eyes on the Marsian queen on the off chance the woman he'd known would reveal something unexpected. Yeah, when Mercury froze.

  "Although we suspect your great-uncle stole The Honey, we believe you'll give her up to save his life."

  "If the ship is, in fact, The Honey," Paris amended.

  Neither her voice nor her eyes revealed more than polite interest, making Geoff wonder what had happened to make the idealistic girl he'd met only a couple of years ago this rigid, unfeeling…monster. His rage, always ready to boil when he thought about The Honey, surged through him.

  Keely grabbed Geoff's arm and pressed it into the arm on his chair. He relaxed as much as he could with outrage simmering in his gut.

  "Isn't she?" Keely asked softly.

  Lowering her steepled fingers, Paris grinned. "For the sake of this discussion, let's assume she is The Honey." She leaned forward, her elbows on the table as she studied Geoff. "I could claim I've spent a lot of credits keeping that ship safe. Why would I let her go now?"

  Keely shrugged. "You got what you wanted from her databanks. She's of no further use to you."

  Geoff shook his head. "She'd have had Pushin sell her for scrap if that were the case."

  Paris simply continued to hold Geoff's gaze. "What exactly do you want, Flight Commander?"

  "My spaceship, Paris. And don't deny you have her."

  "Why would I deny it? But you'll never find her without my help. And why would I help you?"

  Before he could answer, Keely interrupted. "Flight Commander Geoff's too much of a gentleman to threaten you, Paris. But I'm not."

  Paris stared at Geoff. Without even glancing at Keely, she dismissed her. "Go away, little girl. Leave it to us adults to settle this."

  Keely jutted her chin. Geoff's stomach plummeted to his feet. He needed to convince Paris to release The Honey. Reason might work. A bitch slap match would only exacerbate the situation.

  Keely shot Geoff a grin as she grabbed Le Roi by his collar and hauled the former Marsian king to his feet. "I'll just take the trash out with me." Turning to Geoff, she added, "I wonder how the guards outside will react to seeing their dead king--"

  "No!"

  "Give us a reason not to expose you as the lying, conniving bitch you are," Geoff said in his softest voice.

  Le Roi spoke for the first time. "Tell him, Paris, or I will."

  Glaring at her great-uncle, she waved them to resume their seats around her massive desk. "You haven't introduced me to your guards, Uncle." She nodded at Herma-Frodie.

  "Delaying tactics are useless. Here's what I'm offering for The Honey's return. I'll take his honor, Mayor Le Roi, back to Sedna. Then I'll take my spaceship and Keely and your great-uncle's guards back to Earth. You'll never see any of us Earthlings again."

  Paris steepled her fingers in front of her face. The hair on Geoff's nape and arms rose to attention. When Paris went silent, disaster loomed.

  "You've forgotten, Geoff. You're a wanted man. Sure, you can return your precious spaceship to the Admiralty, but you'll still die a traitor."

  Geoff grabbed Keely's arm and held her in place. She glared, but kept blessedly quiet. When the silence stretched to unbearable, he went on. "What can you offer to clear my name? More importantly why would you want to?"

 
"Why I want to is a discussion we'll have in private--as part of my reward for returning your ship to you. That and one-hundred million credits will get you The Honey."

  Geoff glanced at Keely. He had no idea how much she'd won when she broke the bank on Saturnalia, but he doubted it was anywhere near to Paris' demands. Besides, no way in the entire galaxy could he pay Keely back.

  "Done!" Keely crowed, her eyes narrowing on the Marsian queen. "If you also give him information--verifiable evidence--to clear his name."

  Paris flashed a grin of pure malice. "You'll prove him innocent of all charges, Keely. You see…I can restore your memory."

  "Done," Geoff said.

  "No!" Keely yelled.

  Chapter Eight

  Somewhere in Paris' Palace

  "Herma and I have been here before," Frodie told Keely as she paced the length of the luxurious room. Gold and mirrors and marble made her remember The Dream. The glare made her eyes water and her head ache.

  "You know any way to get out?" Guards stood in the interior corridor. She'd tried the enormous French doors, but couldn't open them. Suspecting they were alarmed, she decided not to smash them into tiny shards--until she had to.

  "We weren't really here," Herma went on. "We were implanted in Kendra and Connor's temples."

  "Why?"

  "Long story. Ask Geoff to tell you when he comes back," Frodie advised.

  "If he comes back," she muttered. Since she'd threatened Paris, Keely's imagination had run rampant, envisioning Paris torturing Geoff, branding him with PR--Paris Regina--or stretching his magnificent body on the rack. Even worse, the images of Paris and Geoff having sex plagued her. The noble idiot would do anything to help Keely regain her memory, but at what cost to himself? That's why she'd protested Paris' offer.

  Or so she'd told herself. The acid burning in her stomach proclaimed her a coward. If she regained her memory, cleared Geoff's name, he'd have no reason to stay with her. But if she didn't… He'd hate her. Leave her anyway.

  "Don't worry. Mars lacks dungeons, even jails." Herma patted Keely's back.

  "If you pull the bell rope by the fireplace you can order food and drink. Prisoners--er--guests are not starved."

  "Ugh!" Keely rubbed her belly as though asking if it wanted food. If it did she'd have to tough it out. She doubted she could keep anything down. "Any ideas about what Paris has done with Le Roi?"

  "He's next door. Disguised as a Sednan dignitary." Herma giggled. "Enjoying all the French cooking he's unable to have on Sedna."

  "Herma and I are wagering he will bribe one of his niece's chefs to join him when we leave Mars."

  "We'll have a parade," Keely drawled, her caustic tone belying the cheerful words.

  "Like Fourth of July." Frodie grinned.

  "Or Bastille Day," Herma amended. "Since the queen is so proud of her French ancestry."

  "A parade to the guillotine." Keely soothed her neck and wondered how much longer her head would remain attached. And what Geoff would have to do to keep his.

  "Do not worry about Geoff. Paris has a great fondness for him."

  "Fondness? She wants to fu--have nonstop sex with him for the rest of their lives."

  "Not exactly," Geoff corrected as the corridor doors closed behind him.

  And locked. Keely heard it snick into place. Eyeing Geoff, she suppressed the urge to check him for wounds.

  "I'm fine."

  "I can see that," Keely sniped, grateful he appeared his usual self. Which translated, in her mind anyway, to he hadn't spent the last few hours making love to Paris. Or having sex either. In fact, he looked downright pleased with himself. Which made her reconsider. Had he fu--had sex with Paris, no matter how he might feel about the Marsienne?

  Flouncing to a chair, she sat and jutted her chin.

  Grinning, he stretched out on the divan, his long legs sticking out over one arm. "I can out wait you, Keely."

  "I know." Sighing, she said, "Are you going to tell me or not?"

  "You I'll tell. Beat it," he told Herma-Frodie.

  "Nuh-uh," Keely countermanded. "If it weren't for them we'd be stuck on Sedna."

  Geoff shrugged. "Just wanted not to embarrass you, Keely."

  "Uh-huh."

  "Paris believes if we fu--make lo--have sex you'll get your memory back."

  "Excuse me? She wants you for herself, Geoff. Why--"

  "Not anymore."

  "Why would she pimp you out to anyone? Especially me."

  "Don't know. All I could persuade her to say was she saw how hopeless it was to pin her love on me. That I would never love anything or anyone more than I love The Honey."

  "She got that right." Keely sighed, noticing Herma-Frodie had disappeared. She needed them as chaperones, Jove blast it! Or mediators if she couldn't convince Geoff that making love--having sex--fucking just because Paris ordered them to do it… Well, she didn't like that idea at all. Except…she wanted Geoff with everything in her. And if she regained her memory, too… What else could she ask for? Except that he stay with her.

  "Chicken?"

  She jutted her chin, but soon lowered it. "Yeah. As much as I want my memory back… What if I'm a terrible person? What if I murdered somebody? Or stole The Honey? What if I'm responsible for you being accused of treason?"

  "Not that I think any of those things is true, but…I'd forgive you."

  "Easy for you to say since we don't know."

  "Isn't it worth the risk, Keely? You'd know if you have a family and a whole galaxy full of friends. Wouldn't that make it worth risking anything and everything?"

  "Especially if I could clear you as well? I guess it's worth it--for you."

  He blanched and Keely wished she could take back every cruel word. Cut out her own tongue. "I'm sorry. So very, very sorry."

  "Can't fault you for telling the truth, Keely." He stood. "I'll tell Paris the deal's off."

  "No!" Keely went to him and wound her arms around him.

  He just stood there, his arms at his sides, staring at something she couldn't see. Or silently saying goodbye to his true love, The Honey. Keely started to pull away, but he pressed her to him.

  Safe, she thought. You make me feel so safe.

  Tilting her chin, he kissed her nose. "Did it ever occur to you that I want to make love with you?"

  "N-no. D-do you?"

  "Jove, yes!"

  "She isn't going to watch, is she?"

  "Paris? On board The Honey? Jove, no!"

  "She's had your ship a long time, Geoff. She could have installed all kinds of equipment throughout the entire ship."

  "There's only one place we need to worry about, Keely. My quarters," he explained, thumbing the frown from her forehead. "And I have ways of finding and disabling any bugs we might find there."

  "You're sure?"

  "Are you?"

  Drawing a deep breath for courage, she gazed into his eyes. And found answers to questions she hadn't even asked.

  "Yes. I'm sure."

  The Next Day-Aboard The Honey

  Keely stood staring at herself in Geoff's full-length mirror. She supposed mirrors were necessities even for men. After all, Geoff would want to look his best when the admiral came aboard. She could imagine Geoff standing exactly where she stood now. He brushed at nonexistent lint on his uniform. Smoothed his hair. Wondered if the admiral would order him to trim his mustache or shave it off altogether. Shrugging his wide shoulders, he went off to greet his boss as The Honey piped the admiral aboard.

  The image was so real, Keely turned to watch an imaginary Geoff leave his quarters, his shoulders square, his spine straight, his whistling cheerful. And as he left his quarters, she glimpsed a tall, trim, gray-haired man lean down to kiss a woman of Keely's size and shape. With Keely's eyes and face. She blinked and the vision vanished.

  Not Clementine again! she thought, remembering his singing off tune in the shower and smiling despite the disturbing…whatever it was. Déjà vu?

  "Hold still,
" Herma ordered, turning Keely to face the mirror again.

  "Ugh! I wish you'd managed to get our luggage off Sedna. One of those tunics would make me look--"

  "Keely looks fine. Like a bride on her wedding night."

  "Ugh!" she repeated, wishing her nerves would settle and wondering if Geoff's nerves were jumping around like…whatever jumped around when jitters overwhelmed it. Her. Him. Pulling at her low-cut neckline, she exhaled her frustration. Most of it anyway. She hoped.

  "Are you sure Paris' costume museum had nothing else?"

  "Nothing that would fit you. Oh there was one outfit, but we thought--Frodie and I thought it might remind you of your dream. The one--"

  "I know what dream. I just wish this neckline were higher. If I bend over, my breasts will fallout."

  "Geoff won't mind."

  "And if I sit, this thong's gonna take up residence in my crease."

  "I doubt you'll have it on long enough to become uncomfortable."

  Keely lifted her sheer skirts. "How do these stockings stay on?"

  Herma shrugged. "Marsienne Magic."

  "Take them off! Paris probably cursed them or…or had some kind of flesh-eating poison woven into them."

  "That's the brand name, Keely." Herma filled a champagne flute, handing it to her.

  "Don't want it."

  "Drink it anyway. It'll--"

  "Settle my nerves," Keely finished, downing the contents in a few gulps. "Or make me pass out."

  Herma gave her an indulgent smile, then frowned.

  "What? Am I drooling? Zits! I'm breaking out. Hives and zits. What?"

  "Just wishing you'd let me lengthen your hair. Men like long hair."

  "I like Keely's exactly like it is," Geoff told them as he entered the quarters he'd loaned her. Fingering a curl at her forehead, he dismissed Herma by jerking his head at the door.

  "Be gentle," Herma murmured sotto voce.

  "As gentle as Keely needs. Or wants." His gaze never strayed from her face.

  A soft sigh expelled the rest of her nerves. "Thanks."

  "Any time." Circling her shoulders with one arm, he guided her toward his bedroom door. At his soft command it whooshed open.

  At first she couldn't see anything. When the door closed behind them, she saw thousands and thousands of stars.