"Charlie here, ma'am. I'm the deckhand." He sounded young, with a light Brazilian accent. "Just wanted to tell you that the meet-and-greet starts now. The other docs are making their way to the salon."

MacRieve murmured, "Tell me this isn't a research vessel."

"What of it?"

With a scheming look, he said, "And you're pretending to be one of them."

More knocking. "Uh, Dr. MacRieve? Can I tell Capitão you're coming up?"

Before she could stop him, MacRieve opened the door. Standing there was "Charlie," a clearly startled young man.

"The wife and I will be up in ten minutes."

"Uh, yes, apreciável - "

As she gaped, MacRieve shoved the door closed in his face. "Lousha," he began in a low threatening tone, "no more dallying. Take off your clothes. Now."

"I'm going to kill you, MacRieve!" she said under her breath. "Introducing us as married?"

"It'll happen soon enough." Though matehood was as good as forever for his kind, the Valkyrie preferred some kind of binding ceremony - Annika had backed down from her hostility a grudging inch once Lachlain had agreed to give Emma one.

So Garreth had decided he would marry Lucia, wouldn't rest until she saw their union as eternal. "Mark my words."

"I can't tell you how wrong you are about that," she said in a strange tone.

"Would they no' wonder why we share a last name? Thank your sister Nïx for that."

"You could have told them we were siblings!"

"Like they'd believe that! When you're always seducing me with your eyes."

"I'm not - I never!"

Ignoring her protests, he leaned back on the bed, hands folded under his head. The bow case lay by his side - he all but dared her to try to take it again. "Lousha, you canna go to the meeting sopping wet, now, can you?"

Her eyes darted as she so clearly weighed her options. That she was even considering stripping told him that she did in fact have some serious shite going on down here.

Garreth had figured she was here on some quest - they were common enough in the Lore. Plus, he still remembered her whispering to her sister in Val Hall about locating some mystery item.

Did he need to know what business she had? Absolutely. And the fact that it was here in the Green Hell made him wary. But with Lucia he'd learned to let information unfold - eventually he'd get his way and discover everything. "You want this back" - he smugly patted the case - "then take off your clothes."

Flashing dark eyes promised retribution. "I'll get you back for this."

"You already have, Archer. The shirt's coming off for the logs. You broke my leg that time. Have you ever tried to swim in rapids with a compound fracture? The pants are for shooting a flaming arrow into that fireworks warehouse - while I was in it."

"That wasn't my idea, that was Reg - "

"Ah-ah, I'm no' finished. The bra is for shooting no' one but two MacRieves."

"What are you talking about?"

"Already forgotten that you shot my brother?"

"While trying to rescue Emma from his castle. And only through his arm, and only because he kidnapped my niece!"

"To make her his queen."

"We had no idea that it could possibly work out between them at the time."

He shrugged. "And the panties are for that first night I almost claimed you. When you left my bollocks so blue, they still have no' been set to rights."

A deep blush stole across her cheekbones. "You're not blameless in this. I wouldn't have continually attacked you if you hadn't stalked me. And I'll remind you yet again, you lied to me!"

"I did lie," he said simply. "I dinna want to spook you. But you ran anyway. Why, Lousha? Why run from me?" The question maddened him. At every turn, she appeared attracted to him. He'd scented her interest on more than one occasion. Yet she still fled, still fought, and always swore she wanted nothing to do with him.

"I - didn't - run! You know what? Keep the bow!"

"That's no' all I have over you. You will no' tell me what you're doing on this boat, but I ken that it's important to you and that you're posing as a human. If you doona want me to reveal what you are - "

"You wouldn't! You know how you'd be punished."

"You want your bow? Your cover kept?" Why am I pushing her like this? Probably because he was still riled over her stunts. Because swimming with a femoral fracture truly was unimaginably painful, and he'd vowed to get revenge.

But mainly because he wanted to behold his mate. He was a male, and a primitive one at heart - he simply wanted to ogle the female Fate had chosen for him. "You're stalling, Valkyrie. We're both adults, and you're in no way modest about anything else."

"Maybe I don't want to get jumped as soon as I strip."

"I vow to give you a reprieve. At least until after your meeting."

"You know what? I'll do it. Just to show you what you'll never have." With a glare, she dug into her pack, snatching out a change of clothes - a pair of plain beige pants, but she'd unerringly chosen a red halter top and red underwear.

"Red," he breathed. The color was an attractant to Lykae males, more so for mated ones. And this lingerie was especially pleasing. There was a ribbon on the back of the panties clearly made for a man's eyes. He imagined fingering it as he put her on her hands and knees. He'd slowly peel the panties down her thighs, just far enough that he could spread her legs and enter her.

She turned to take off her shirt, pulling it over her head. When she removed her bra and reached for the dry one, he caught a glimpse of one of her lush br**sts and a dusky rose nipple.

How many times had he ejaculated in his hand, imagining those big br**sts? How many times had he come with his teeth gritted with frustration because he was squeezing his c**k instead of kneading those mounds of creamy flesh...?

Though his Lucia wasn't shy, she acted discomfited sometimes, behaving in ways contrary to what he'd expect. Not modest in any way yet still shy. She was like that now. Acting as if this were killing her. When in fact, he could tell she was becoming aroused. Her breaths had grown shallow. Her eyes flickered silver. He wondered if she knew that.

She removed her underwear, revealing her taut, work-of-art arse, and all thought fled his brain for long moments. "Gods almighty," he finally breathed, making her shoulders stiffen. "Never seen your arse before. And never seen the likes of it in a thousand years."




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