Death Defying (Dark Desires) by Nina Croft

intended to do as soon as they got back to El Cazador, she could probably kiss her chances of being accepted into the Collective good-bye. She sighed.
    “Here.” Jon handed her the flask. “You sound like you need this.”
    She unscrewed the top and took a sip of the smoky liquid. It burned her throat, settled in her belly like fire. She took another swallow.
    As the alcohol went through her system, the anger started to rise again. She liked the anger much better than the self-pity. By the time the speeder came to a halt beside El Cazador , she’d emptied the flask and managed to build herself up into a fine rage.
    She stalked up the ramp, through the docking bay, up the next ramp, and found them in the conference room. Their heads close together, Alex and Janey were talking, Alex with a blaster resting across her lap. Callum sat across the room. He looked relaxed, unworried, and her fury ratcheted a notch.
    He rose slowly as Tannis strode into the room. Closing the distance between them, she eyed him and tried to tell herself she shouldn’t do this. And failed.
    Coming to a halt in front of him, she drew back her fist and punched him on the nose. He collapsed into the chair behind him, more from shock probably than the strength of her blow.
    She stared down at him. He returned her gaze with those glowing eyes, and she had to force herself not to be sucked into their depths.
    “I want you off the ship,” she said. “In five minutes. You’re free to call for someone to pick you up as soon as we’ve gone.”
    She whirled around and left the room. And almost ran smack into Rico. He put up a hand to stop her headlong flight. “Are you all right?”
    “Of course I’m all right. Why the freaking hell shouldn’t I be all right?”
    His brows drew together, and he turned to Skylar. “Go check that everything’s okay, sweetheart. I want to talk to the captain.”
    “No problem.”
    “What do you want to talk about?” Now she sounded sullen. She shook her head. “Sorry.”
    He put a hand on her arm and steered her toward her cabin.
    Once inside, she threw herself on the scarlet couch and stared at the ceiling. Her room was one place where the black-and-silver decor didn’t prevail. When she’d come on board, the whole ship had been that way, but as she’d started to feel at home, she’d introduced color into her own room. Well red at least, shades of red, scarlet and crimson, deep dark reds. She loved red.
    Rico disappeared inside the bathroom, came out a moment later with the small medical kit from her cabinet. He placed it on the table, then sat next to her. “Let me look at your arm.”
    “It’s nothing,” she snapped.
    He gave her a long look, and the air left her lungs in a huge sigh.
    She unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it off one shoulder.
    Holding onto her wrist, he turned her arm so he could study the burn. “You’re right, it’s nothing. I’ll just spray it with sealant and painkiller.”
    She didn’t argue as he sprayed the wound, and in fact, she did feel marginally better as the pain receded. Refastening her shirt, she sat back.
    Rico settled himself into the seat opposite, long legs stretched out in front of him. “Well?”
    “Well, it’s done. We’re out of here, and he’s staying. I suppose the whole Meridian thing was only a dream.” She forced a grin. “Who wants to turn out like him anyway? I’m guessing those aliens must be real assholes.”
    “Maybe. But I reckon it’s not the alien part of him that’s causing the problems right now.”
    “It’s not?”
    “No, I’m guessing it’s the human bits.”
    She frowned. “Why do you say that?”
    “You know on Earth he was famous?”
    Her gaze flashed to his face in shock. “You knew him?”
    “Not personally, but as I said, he was famous. Don’t tell Daisy I said this, or she’ll be all over him, but he was this daredevil pilot—more kills than the rest of them put together. Nerves of steel and a complete adrenaline