His Human Rebel (Zandian Masters 4)

All the offices had been taken by the Zandians, and his guards slept in the bunkroom used by the Ocretion guards before they took over the pod. Still, there had to be some other place for her. He used his palm to activate the doors on room and after room, assessing their potential and giving Sten orders on what to do with each one.

When he found a small storage area, big enough for a bed and even a chair, he stopped looking. “We’ll empty this. Stack the supplies neatly in the hallway,” he ordered both of them.

Cambry hesitated, obviously not wanting to enter the small space due to the possibility of being trapped in there with them.

“You stay out here. We’ll hand you the supplies for stacking.” He reached in and grabbed the first box, swiveling to drop it into her arms.

Theirs hands brushed when she took it, and his gaze tangled with hers. She had warm brown eyes, her lashes the same dark auburn of her thick hair. She seemed to be searching his face for something, so he let her look, hoping he showed whatever she needed to see.

She swallowed and took the box, turning away quickly, but not before he saw confusion on her beautiful face.

~.~

Lundric—Captain Lundric, she’d learned—actually growled when his guard Sten tried to hand her a box. Lundric snatched it from him, glaring Sten down with an animalistic show of dominance. She wasn’t sure whether to slap his face at the audacity or laugh at his territorial act over her. She probably ought to be more afraid.

If she had half a brain, she wouldn’t have come on this errand alone with these two. Even with the dagger Lundric had given her, the two could probably overpower her, although she’d give them one helluva fight first.

The image of the two of them shoving her into the storage space and taking turns having their way with her flickered through her mind...and sort of turned her on. No, Sten having a turn didn’t excite her, but the crazy image of him holding her down while Lundric shoved his way deep into her—

Sweet Mother Earth! What was wrong with her? Her panties were actually dampening at the idea of being forcibly taken by this huge specimen of masculine power. What had lulled her better instincts into complacency?

It was too much to believe he really saw into her and understood her needs and desires, and yet...he had. He’d given her the dagger. Now he was supposedly finding some safer places for them to sleep, although she still didn’t know whether to trust his plan. But, if it was a ploy, what did he stand to gain? Someplace to get her alone, maybe?

She stacked boxes neatly outside the closet.

“So what did you do to land yourself on the wrong side of Ocretion law?” His question was deceptively casual. Even though his back was to her, she saw the charge of tension run through him, waiting for her answer.

“I killed three guards.”

It was true. But she’d also thrown it out as a threat, and he clearly caught her intent because, when he swiveled with the next carton, the corners of his mouth tugged up. “I have no doubt you did.” He looked almost...proud of her.

Bizarre.

As he handed her the box, his focus dipped to her lips like they had the night before. What did he want to do to her mouth? Kiss it? Claim it?

A shiver ran through her. She didn’t even know what claim it meant, but it seemed to fit the hunger flickering behind his gaze. She dropped the carton and immediately looked back, watching Lundric’s powerful back ripple when he stooped to pick up another box. Sten caught her looking and hid a smile as he looked away.

To hell with him. What did he think was so funny?

When they’d emptied the little storage room of all its contents, Lundric turned to her. “Let’s go get your things.”

Her brows shot up. “This is for me?” Her safety meter spun wildly and landed on no way. She took a step backward. “I’m not going in there.”

Lundric held his palms out, as if to show he had no weapon. “Take it easy. No one is trying to trap you, little female.” He drew his fist back and smashed the palm-activated door lock panel beside the door.

She bit back the involuntary shriek of surprise choking her throat. The power behind that fist was dizzying. She made a mental note never to put herself on the receiving end of it.

The panel sparked and flashed and then died out. He shoved the pocket door open and closed. “See? Nothing I can do from the outside now. I’ll fashion you some kind of clip you can use from the inside. You control the lights inside, too. See?” He showed her the button just inside the door that turned the lights on and off.

Prickles covered her skin. Had he really done all this...for her? To keep her safe? Or—since he already believed he’d protected her the night before—to give her some semblance of control over her own safety? It was too much to believe, and yet, something in the way he watched her, as if her reaction mattered—really mattered to him—made her think it was true.

He took a step closer, his expression going soft. When he reached for her face, she jerked away on an inhale. His hand dropped to his side, all the power and hunger she saw there tightly leashed. Once more, the lips turned up. Instead of inspiring anger, it seemed her resistance amused him.

“Go get your bedroll.”

She nibbled on her lip, still assessing the danger. She tossed her ponytail and tried opening and closing the door herself. He was right—it didn’t lock now. With a single nod, she strode back down the corridor in the direction they’d come.

It would’ve been a better exit if she’d gone in the right direction.