"No wonder you loved it," she muttered. "Was it hazardous?"

"Occasionally. But that's the price you pay for exploration. Every mission was different, every planet an adventure."

"Even this one?"

"This is still better than being tied to a chair in an office surrounded by people who are content to do the same thing every day, every year, for the rest of their lives."

Lacey said, "You mean, like me?"

He released the last lockdown and pulled himself out of the bay. Lacey was on her belly, her shapely legs crossed at the calves, her face in her hands. The long shirt outlined her narrow back and round bottom delicately. He was pretty sure the view was going to kill him.

"I don't see you that way. And I didn't mean it as an insult. Worlds need those people. I'm just not one of them."

She sniffed. "Well, us brainy types will ultimately conquer the universe, so you better be nice to us."

"I'm doing my best to keep you brainy types happy. Us Wild Wild West men have a reputation to uphold," he added with a smile.

She wrinkled her nose. "What else did you learn? Besides how to give orders."

"I learned how to not ask a lot of questions."

"How utterly boring.""Yes. But safer, trust me.""Anything else?" Her big, beautiful blue eyes blinked at him.At this rate, he was never going to sleep, let alone fix the guns. He tossed the latcher on the floor and rolled his stiff shoulder. "Weapons, ops, and about a hundred ways to kill someone in under three seconds." He leaned back against the cabinets and waited for her shocked reaction.

"Sounds like a risky way to make a living," she said simply.

"It was."

"You must have been very good."

He clenched his jaw. "Not always."

Her eyes narrowed. "Once?"

Zain stilled. Had Reene told her? No, the computer wouldn't do that. He knew better.

"Maybe twice," he said lightly, trying to throw her off.

She stared at his bare chest and, for a few seconds, his ego was really happy.

And then Lacey said, "Is that when you got those?" He frowned and rubbed the three thick scars with his fingers. So much for his ego.

"I had an off day," he conceded. "It happens."

"Bobzillas?"

He pursed his lips. He really didn't want to be having this conversation. "Sort of.

Give me a little help here."

He leaned over the bay and braced himself with one hand. Lacey scooted up on her knees and moved across from him, giving him a hell of a look down her shirt. He groaned. Her face lifted to his.

"Are you okay?"

He shook his head. "Fine. I'm going to ease the barrel of the gun out. Just hold it steady so it doesn't bang around too much.

"What happens if it bangs around?" she asked.

He reached a hand in and gripped the gun barrel. "It's full of live ammo."

She gasped. "It's a bomb?"

He clenched his teeth as he lifted the gun out of the tight confines of the bay.

"Bomb is such a strong word." The gun hit the side wall with a loud bang, and he winced.

"If you blow us up, I'm going to kill you," Lacey said, peering at what he was doing.

"I can do this," Zain told her.She grabbed the gun shaft with one hand. "Are you sure this thing is going to fit?""It'll fit," Zain insisted, turning it the other way while Lacey held on to one end."It's too big. It's not coming out.""They got it in, I can get it out."He twisted the gun, and it clanked against the opening.She glared at him. "I thought you said you knew how to repair everything on this ship." "I do." He rapped his knuckles against the lip of the bay as he wrenched the mangled gun out. He set it down carefully and shook his battered hand. "Damn."

Lacey reached for his bloodied hand, but he pulled it away. "Don't."

His bark startled her. She blinked and withdrew to a safe distance. Anger returned: her protection.

"Don't worry, I won't." Her words were like ice.

He wanted to explain that every time she touched him, he lost control. And when he lost control, he took. He wanted. Didn't she understand that he was a dangerous man?

So he just sat there and said, "I can install another power cell in the ship tomorrow. After that, I should be able to send you and Oliver home in the VirtuWav."

She nodded, refusing to meet his gaze. "Fine. Well, I'm sure you can handle the rest of this job." Then she stood up and climbed into her bed without a word.

Zain closed his eyes. He was such a bastard.

An hour later, he finished locking down the hatch and leaned back against the corridor wall. "Give it a test shot, Reene."

He heard the laser gun fire as it lit up the night outside the viewport.

"Good," he said and pulled himself to his feet, coming up beside a sleeping Lacey. For a moment, he just stood there and watched her sleep. Maybe it wasn't the right thing to do to watch a woman without her permission. A good man wouldn't be standing in the dark, wondering what she was dreaming about, or who. A good man wouldn't be wondering what it would be like to watch her wake up and be the first one to see her eyes light up in the morning.

Then again, he wasn't a good man.

She was going home tomorrow, back to where she belonged. With a pang, he knew that her sweet promise would haunt him forever-more than stolen kisses, more than the sexual desire she unfurled in him. In her, he saw the peace he'd always sought. She'd brought laughter back to his silent world, reminding him that life was about more than a job and what was beyond the next star.

It would be much better once it was back to just him and Reene again. He could explore the galaxy like he loved to with no one to question him. No one to challenge him. No one to laugh with. No one to make him forget. No one to keep his dreams alive.

From his perch on Lacey's chest, Oliver made a little chirping noise. Zain reached out and stroked his fur. "I'm beginning to think you're a genius," he told the cat.

He took one last look and headed to the back room. "Reene, all weapons systems on full. I'm going to grab a few hours sleep."

"Yes, sir. Happy trails."

Zain smiled and tossed a mat on the floor. "You, too."

He placed a rifle next to him and stretched out on the floor. They were sitting on a bomb, all right. The biggest damn bomb there was-an illegal armory. There were few organizations who could afford this type of operation, and almost none of those were legitimate. He didn't want to be here long enough to find out for sure. In fewer than four days, they'd have company. Somehow, he'd be gone by then-even if he had to take his chances trying to shoot his way out.

A faint noise came from the front of the ship, and he turned to see Oliver sitting at the door watching him.

"You want something?" Zain asked.

The cat's eyes flashed in the darkness, bobbing up and down as Oliver padded. Zain and the animal regarded each other with uncertainty, and then, to Zain's utter surprise, the cat turned around a few times before curling up next to his head. A soft purr shook its warm, furry body as it relaxed and went to sleep.

Zain listened to the soothing sound and stared at the ceiling, memories weighing heavier than any blanket. He shook them off and crushed them under his mental foot. It was a trick he'd learned long ago. The only time they surfaced to haunt him was when he slept. Sleep was a necessary evil, and dreams a price to be paid for past mistakes. But even as he fought it, exhaustion swamped him. Sleep prevailed.

As he drifted toward it, he heard the laughter and voices of his family: his father's bellowing laugh, the relendess jabs from seven brothers to their only sister, her quick retorts. Theirs was a house that rocked all the time with meals that inevitably turned into political debates, and as always, discussion of the almighty family shipping business.

And then, amid it all, the name 'Qomoti-Rul' echoed in his mind. No. He clung to the warmth and safety of his youth and family.

Zain! There are too many of them! Crista's shout hurled to him through the darkness, leaving him vulnerable, exposed, and ensnared. The sulfurous odor of the Qomoti-Rul swamp replaced the memories of family meals, and his feet were already trapped in the thick mud. He slid into terror. Shadows descended and attacked.

Crista screamed behind him. Metal slashed across his chest. He felt the warm spray of his own blood, heard his grunt of pain, and knew what was to happen next. The outcome was inevitable, but he could never bring himself to abandon Crista.

This time, though, just as he reached out in a vain attempt to fight for Crista's life, Lacey's voice came to him. The nightmare wavered, the shadows halted. His breath stilled, hope transcending fear. Lacey whispered to him again and he held onto the sweet sound.

He didn't care what happened to him, as long as he could hear her. Let the shadows take hint. Let death be merciful and quick Let this nightmare end.

She became stronger, and the swamp, the shadows, and the fear withdrew. In their place was Lacey's smiling face. Her lips' moved as she soothed him. He felt her hands on his chest, healing. Her lips were on his, infusing him with passion like a breath of fresh air. He growled, pushing himself into her softness. Peace wrapped around him-a sensation he hadn't felt in so long, he shuddered with the power of it. Lacey intertwined with his mind and body. He could taste her, feel her, hear her. Everything he needed was right there.

"Lacey," he whispered, hearing his own voice, and the dream shattered.

Suddenly, he jerked fully awake. His thoughts scrambled. What happened? Had he made a noise? Had he said her name? He forced his heart to slow, his ears to listen. The only sounds were those of the ship. Lacey was still asleep.

Zain checked the time. He'd slept four hours straight, longer than he could ever remember in the last five years. He looked at his hands. They were fine, no blood, and no marks. He closed his eyes, the dream still lingering.

What was Lacey doing in his dreams about Crista? How could he allow that to happen? Do that to Crista's memory? Especially the sex. He'd never dreamed about sex with Crista.

He blew out a long breath. Well, apparently he did with Lacey, and he had the erection to prove it.

Chapter Fifteen.

T minus three days and counting...

Lacey woke slowly to sunlight streaming through the ship's viewport. Another day on an alien planet and one less day to work on her database. There was no hope of finishing it in time now, but if she returned today, she could at least contact Marquet and try to get a short extension. She'd tell them there were extenuating circumstances. Elaborating probably wouldn't be a good idea.

She closed her eyes. She wanted to go home, back to where her life was her own. Where she could choose whom she wanted to let in. Where she succeeded or failed on her own, without any domineering space cowboy telling her what to do all the time.

Don't. She swallowed, recalling Zain's word last night; Robert's favorite word. Don't laugh so loud, Lacey. Don't tell that story to my friends, Lacey. Don't wear that dress, don't hold my hand in public, don't bother me when I'm working. Don't be yourself. Yes, she understood fully what "don't" meant. Even out here.

It dawned on her that Oliver was MIA. She glanced around. No sign of Zain, either. Had he left already for the next load of parts?

"Reene?" she whispered.

"Yes, Lacey," the computer replied in his soft voice that still creeped her out, though she was getting a little more used to it.

"Where is Zain?"

"In the back."

She frowned at the bright sunlight. "It's late."

"Yes. I did not wake him. He rarely sleeps this agreeably."

"Does he always have nightmares?" she asked, leaning up on one elbow.

"Yes. Although, they have not been as bad since you arrived."

"Why is that?"

Reene paused. "I do not know. However, you are the first person to spend this much time with Zain in 3.1 years."

She shouldn't be surprised. He'd told her his life was solitary, and he obviously preferred it that way. He could have any woman he wanted-she was sure of it. This was the life he chose. She couldn't help but wonder why.

"Does he ever tell you what the nightmares are about?"

Another hesitation. "Not specifically."

"Are they always so violent?"

"Yes."

She wondered how many times he'd woken up to only a computer, even one as sophisticated as Reene, and how many times he'd bandaged his own hands. What would make him thrash with enough desperation to injure himself like that? When she left, would his nightmares come back?

Yeah, so he'd been a jerk to her last night. Maybe he was just tired and cranky. Even she had her moments. It didn't mean she wished him misery in his sleep. She scooted off her bunk and stepped quietly to the back of the ship. The door was open and two golden eyes peered at her. Oliver was lying on Zain's chest.

"What time is it?" Zain's gruff question startled her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"No problem. I have to get moving anyway."

Oliver jumped off him as Zain rolled to a sitting position and leaned back against the wall, his face lit by a beam of light. He didn't look tired. He looked rumpled and relaxed and sexy.