A small being in a hazmat suit approached her. Veda’s face peered at her through the clear visor. Cyra took the respirator mask in Veda’s hand and placed it over her face. The audio connection synced and Veda’s voice came through. “They’re venting the room, it should only be a few minutes before we can take this off. You’re lucky you didn’t get her sooner. You wouldn’t have made it three steps into this room.”
“What happened?”
“The guy in cargo?”
The large muscular man appeared as if he’d heard them talking about him. His maskless face was blank of emotion and the air didn’t seem to be affecting him. Cyra couldn’t take her eyes off him as he came downThe Treasure’sramp, squeezed into a hazmat suit that fit him like a second skin. His muscles rippled with each movement—confident conquerer returning from battle.
“He was amazing,” Veda continued.
Cyra couldn’t argue.
“I freed him from his cargo cell. And then he got me off the ship and went back in. He made chili oil spray to corral the spiders back to the safety of their container. But it was so strong on the ship, the support crew couldn’t breathe. They vented it out here.”
The man stalked her, his yellow gaze heating her. Cyra’s fluttery anticipation returned. What was it about this male that made her insides giddy? It was a ridiculous reaction. She was captain, she couldn’t be acting like a pubescent girl.
“The security crew is closing the container.” His low voice vibrated Cyra’s insides in a completely different way—lower, deeper. “They’re asking for a manifest to verify the count. Make sure none are still loose.” He spoke to Veda, but his gaze never left Cyra.
“How?” The word escaped with her breath.
“I have the documentation for the shipment,” Veda replied. “Is it safe for me to go to the lab?”
The man’s head pivoted between them. “I see your lips moving behind the shield, but I can’t hear you.”
Cyra removed her respirator. The air was much less caustic. “She said she can get the paperwork if it’s safe to go back on board.”
His powerful shoulders lifted and dropped. “Assuming we have them all back in the box, yes.”
Cyra nodded at Veda who shuffled off in the voluminous folds of her hazmat suit.
Alone. Cyra was alone with the big gray male and the intimacy weighed on her chest, as if he was pressed against her instead of standing half a meter away. She shivered and steeled her spine. She was captain. Not a silly school girl with a crush. “Thank you for saving Veda—Doctor Artz. And for your help with containing the cargo.”
He shifted slightly closer. “It is my honor to help. Where is your captain? Thenal? He should be here to oversee this.” His brow wrinkled. “Or the maintenance crew? I found no one else on the ship.”
“Captain Auvi died.” Tears pricked at Cyra’s eyes. “I’m the captain ofThe Treasurenow.”
Her comm pinged with a group text sound. Varik sent the entire crew a message. Had he heard about the spiders? How could he? Cyra tapped her screen to read the shared memo. The screen slipped from her hands. The gray man caught it before it shattered on the dock floor.
The absolute gall of that bastard to lie to the entire crew. Cyra shook and the image of Varik’s taunting face grinning over his win filled her vision, blocking out the reality of the cavernous dock and hero of a male in front of her. She balled her hands and forced the threat of angry tears back down. How much more was she expected to take?
“I assume you received bad news?” The male’s voice petted her.
Cyra took a deep steadying breath. “You could say that. The first engineer just sent a message to the entire crew that I’m the new captain and that I have no money to pay them and they should contact him because he has a line on new jobs for all of them. I can’t fly—” She flung her arm in the direction of the huge transport ship. “Without a crew.”
Cyra swiped at the tear that had escaped. The temptation to lean into him, a stranger—cargo—was difficult to resist. She would give anything to have someone take the burden from her. But just because her dream of being a captain wasn’t emerging from a ray of sparkly sunshine, didn’t mean she was ready to give up. She didn’t need some random male with his arms crossed, muscles bulging, and forehead wrinkled in a scowl to provide comfort. Besides, he didn’t appear interested in providing any.
“All clear,” Veda called from the top of the loading ramp. The helmet of her hazmat suit under one arm. “Your chile spray idea saved us a huge fine, Dezmuhnd.”
Dezmuhnd? She glanced at the strong male by her side.
“Dezmuhnd Cuocua. But please, call me Dez.”
“Thank you Dez.” What was she supposed to do with him? Put him back in cargo? Did it matter since she had no crew?
“You are Captain—” The lift in his voice requested she supply her name.
But what name should she give him? “I’m Captain Maejzur.” The words were like a mouth full of seashells. “Cyra.”
Dez tilted his head in shallow nod. “Captain Cyra.”
