Captive of Pleasure; the Space Pirate's Woman (The LodeStar Series) Read Free Page A

not only was that stupid, it was wrong.  
    And he absolutely did not fuck anyone in his crew. He’d learned this lesson the hard way after a Serpentian warrior whose temper rivaled her passions had objected to his moving on to another woman. She’d left the camp, but not before lasering his cruiser along both sides. It had cost him a massive amount of credit to have the ugly marks repaired.  
    He’d yet to meet a woman who made that shit worthwhile.
    The reverse—a woman who was not a warrior, who was soft and vulnerable—would be even worse. She’d cling to him, expect him to support her in all ways, instead of standing strong at his side. She’d suffocate him with demands. No, his way was best.
    A blonde in a tight black top and leggings smiled at him, running one hand through her long hair, and he returned her smile. Fee, now there was the perfect deterrent to Qala—free and easy, with no expectations other than the protection of the camp and a share of their credit to buy pretty things.
    He opened his mouth to call her over, and his comlink chimed. As he opened the link, his heartbeat surged. Time for some real action.
    “Play time is over,” Joran told Qala and Haro. “The slave auction we’ve been waiting for? Happening tomorrow afternoon, south of here in the Pinnacles.”
    “Yeah,” Haro muttered. “Time to let the thunder roll and the lightning strike. The Storm is on the move.”
    Joran grinned, and raised his bottle of ale. “Let it rain.”

Chapter 2
     
    High noon the following day found Joran doing a flight check on his cruiser. From the side, the Hawk was silver. But with camouflage imbedded in the ceramcoat finish, from the air she appeared to be nothing more than a water mirage, often seen on these deserts. Wouldn’t fool the IGSF’s new tech, but then he wasn’t usually running from them, just other pirates.
    Qala appeared at Joran’s side, fairly vibrating with anticipation. He returned her look with approval. This, they could share.  
    “Weapons ready?” he asked, wiping his hands on a cleansing pad.
    She nodded.  
    “All right.” He looked around as Var and Ilya approached, followed by Haro and a pair of stocky Occulans, their eye-stalks waving above their mottle brown heads. “Haro, you’re pilot. Wega, Riley, you ready?”
    “Ready,” one of the Occulans rasped. The other blinked rapidly.
    “All right, let’s move.”  
    Despite the baking heat of the summer day, many of those remaining in camp had gathered to watch them load up. A trio of teens dashed out of the trees, and two children hopped with excitement.  
    Joran lifted his chin to the crowd. A grizzled older man grinned. “Give ‘em hells, Storm.”
    “Will do, Draz. Keep the camp safe while we’re gone.”
    “Where’s Mako?” Qala asked, scanning the onlookers..  
    “He’s enroute back from F City,” Var said. “With the transport. Dropped off a load of goods, bringing back supplies.”
    “He could meet us at the auction,” Qala suggested casually. “The transpo has plenty of room for a few warm bodies.”
    Joran shook his head, already swinging through the open hatch of the cruiser. “Qala, we’re not in the rescue business. That’s the IGSF’s job. We’re there for the credit—we’re in, we’re out, we let them know about the auction after we’re safely away.”
    The Storm rolled, and left others to deal with the aftermath.
     
    ***
     
    The Pinnacles auction ring had clearly been thrown together in a hurry—it consisted of a roof system of satcom camo stretched from the mouth of a huge cave out to several tall rock columns. Under this shelter squatted the ugly, bulbous shape of a Quark O’gren transport, surplus of the Solar Wars, surrounded by a host of smaller craft.  
    Food and beverage stalls lined the mouth of the cave. Smoke and steam rose to pool under the awning. The savory odors of food could not, however, cover the stench of the crowd. The hot air was rank with unwashed