The blast slammed into the rear of their pod and knocked them spinning. Desideria cursed as she was thrown against the arm of her seat, bruising her ribs. She watched Caillen continue to dig around, underneath the console. He lay on his back with his legs bent and wide apart to keep himself balanced and stable while the pod rocked from its assault. Unused to the motion, she fought down her nausea, then frowned at the sight of his old, scuffed work boots that were tied with laces that had been broken and then knotted back together. Those boots looked like they’d been put through hell—like they were the only pair of boots he owned. She’d never known any prince to deign to touch something so ragged never mind actually wear them. And now that she thought about it, his clothes were the same way. Clean, but worn. His brown jacket even had what appeared to be blaster burn marks on it.
His head and shoulders were completely obscured by the steel panel while he worked in silence. And in his hurry to get under the console, his jacket and shirt had ridden up, exposing his tanned abdomen. With every breath and move he made, his toned muscles contracted, making them all the more pronounced. Yeah, okay, that part of him was totally lickable. And if she didn’t miss her guess, his left side seemed to have a tattoo on it that covered a nasty looking scar.
On an aristos? They considered those things vulgar and common…
Why would he have such marks? It didn’t make sense. Prince Caillen was definitely a man of complete contradictions.
Another blast hit them hard.
Grimacing in pain, she righted herself in her chair. “Let me guess. No guns on this thing either?”
There was no missing the disgust in that deep baritone. “Which I think is particularly stupid. If you’re using an escape pod to… you know, escape, nine times out of ten, you’re escaping because your ship’s under attack and you had to evacuate. What kind of krikkin idiot thought it smart to make an escape device that leaves its occupants defenseless moving targets while they’re being attacked? Oh wait, don’t answer. I’ve met too many design engineers whose IQs are smaller than my shoe size”—he tilted his head out from under the console to give her a pointed glance, then added—“which for the record is actually larger than most men’s except for Syn who’s a mutant sonofabitch”—he returned to working—“but as far as IQs go, it puts them on the same level as protozoa. My number one peeve in life. Think it through, people. Think it through.” He paused to curse as one of the wires shocked him. “Just so you know my ship has a gunner pod with enough juice to take down a starcruiser. This one… really sucks.”
She couldn’t agree more. “You have a bad case of Attention Deficit Disorder, don’t you?”
He wiped his hand on his pants leg, then moved it up to hold something she couldn’t see. “Just a little. Luckily it’s mostly verbal.” He hissed sharply as if he’d hurt himself again. “Damn it, I’ve lost all feeling in my right hand.”
“So what do we do?” she asked, trying to keep him focused on the danger.
Another shot rocked them.
Desideria groaned as she slammed into the arm again and it rebruised her ribs. “Besides die painfully.” She was trying to stay calm, but it was getting harder and harder. She hated feeling helpless and this situation was really starting to anger her. “I’m about ready to throw my shoes at them,” she mumbled under her breath. “I know it won’t hurt their fighter, but it would make me feel better.” At least if she did, she’d have done something other than sit here and watch.
Caillen laughed as if he admired her spunk. “Cross your fingers.”
Desideria was confused by his words as he finally slid out from under the panel. “Why?”
Without answering, he shot into the front seat, then his hands flew over the computer. Schematics and diagrams flashed on the monitor so fast she couldn’t even identify what he was looking at or adjusting before he moved on to the next one.
Another blast headed right for them. She sucked her breath in, bracing herself for impact.
It didn’t come.
Instead, the pod turned sharply and lurched forward while the blast shot harmlessly past them by a narrow margin.
Caillen let out a jubilant shout. He kissed his fingers, then smacked them down near the controls. “That’s my girl. C’mon, baby, don’t be fickle with your love. You know you want to do me right. Stay tight and fly where I tell you.” He made more adjustments on the computer and the pod responded.
Desideria was so happy they had some form of control over their craft that she could kiss him. He might be a complete and utter jerk, but, lucky for her, he knew his way around spacecraft.
The fighter changed course and headed straight for them at an accelerated speed.
She cringed as she saw more bright orange flashes in the darkness. “There’s another blast coming.”