Mercenary Courage (Mandrake Company) Read Online Free Page B

because those jabs about the mission were striking far too close to home and even more irritated that he would not get a chance to take his aggressions out on anyone who deserved it. He eyed Azarov, almost tempted to ask the man if he wanted to go a few rounds later, but the soot-smeared sergeant looked too weary to contemplate anything more than his rack. Maybe Viktor would comm Sergei later. When his duties here were done. He took a deep breath, trying to relax muscles tenser than steel.
    Remembering Ankari, he looked to her, though it was a struggle to meet her eyes. He felt unmanned after letting that fool sling insults at him—and her too. Even if Sherkov had backed down, he hadn’t done it without more parting jabs. Viktor hardly felt that he had won a victory. Perhaps later, they would cross paths in an unmonitored alley, and he could give the response he had truly wished to give.
    There wasn’t any judgment in Ankari’s eyes; she smiled tentatively at him, approaching as if she was not sure if he wanted to see her. Oh, he wanted nothing more than to see her. He eyed the sway of her hips as she walked, the curve of her breasts, and the way her lush brown hair bounced around her shoulders. The adrenaline that had been flowing through his veins, eager for a battle, grew eager for something else, shifting to sexual desire, and he growled low in his throat, wanting to push her up against the hull of the shuttle, tear off her clothes, and pound into her right there. The hell with everyone else in the shop.
    She couldn’t have known his thoughts, because her smile broadened as their eyes held, and she regarded him fearlessly, unaware of the dangerous tension within him and how much he needed a release. A thread of shame wormed into his gut, the realization that he had been thinking nothing of her needs or pleasing her and only of finding an outlet for his frustration, whether through violence or lust.
    It was that shame more than the awareness of others around him that let him draw in a deep, almost shuddering breath to gather himself. He unlocked his clenched fists. He would be more than chagrined if she mistook his locked muscles for anger at her.
    But it took a lot to daunt Ankari, and she walked up, still smiling, and placed a hand on his arm. “I know you’re busy today, but I had to come make sure you’re all right. You’ve been known to get shot without mentioning it to people.”
    Viktor thought he had calmed his libido, but her touch sent an electrifying jolt of desire through his body. He had to take more deep breaths before he could manage a sentient reply rather than the lusty growl that wanted to escape his throat. “I was not badly injured.”
    “Just toasted in a campfire?” She dusted soot off his sleeve, then gave Borage a nod—Azarov was talking to one of the mechanics about the fire extinguishing system that now needed to be recharged. “It’s good to see you, Commander.”
    “Ms. Markovich,” Borage said, his voice neutral. He had never criticized Viktor about his choice to keep a trio of civilians on board, ostensibly because Mandrake Company was protecting their business, which it received a cut of, but he had never been enthusiastic about their presence.
    After this last mission, Viktor wondered if he was, indeed, doing the right thing with them. From the beginning, he had wanted to keep Ankari in his daily life, but was that a good enough reason to haul the women in and out of dangerous situations? Flipkens was almost part of the crew now, working in engineering and training to become a backup pilot, but Dr. Keys was out of place on the ship—she seemed out of place anywhere except a lab—and might be happier on a planet.
    This was a problem to consider later. For now, the ship was out of danger, and once repairs were underway, he could allow himself a night of relaxation. Perhaps not tonight, but the next night, definitely. He draped an arm around Ankari’s shoulders and smiled