Her Cold Heart by Michelle Howard

Author:Michelle Howard [Howard, Michelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cyborgs, aliens, Space Opera, science fiction romance, paranormal romance
Publisher: MH Publications
Published: 2021-11-10T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Farid didn’t know what compelled him to offer Sora a tour. His plan had been to tell her about her friends and return to his room. He needed to figure out how to get off the Gladyx if the conglomerate refused to give him any more fights.

Then there was the implanted explosive in his wrist. He’d need a specialist to remove that. It would please Garod to no end to detonate it the moment Farid stepped off the cruiser. Farid wouldn’t give him the pleasure. He’d find a way to get off this ship with his life intact and take Garod and the conglomerate down in the process.

“What’s down here?” Sora asked from the left of him.

She’d been silent so far during the walk. Farid had decided to show her the restricted areas limited for fighter access only. Even as a maintenance tech, she would have needed special permission to be on this side of the cruiser.

“Weight rooms, kitchens, isolation chambers,” he rattled off all the places he’d been and knew by heart.

Her head tipped up and she cast a glance at him. “Isolation chambers?”

Up ahead, two fighters came around the corner. Farid wrapped an arm around Sora’s shoulders, ignoring the way she stiffened. The fighters nodded at Farid, eyed Sora then continued on without slowing their pace.

Warmth emanated along his side where their bodies brushed against one another with each step. Visions of her parted lips and flush body mid-orgasm bombarded his mind. Farid cleared his throat. “Isolation chambers are for when a fighter wants to be alone to align his mind, body and spirit. The doors seal for the set time programmed in and you can’t get out until it expires.”

The sound she made was one of derision. “Not my idea of fun.”

An unexpected spurt of amusement hit Farid. “It’s not supposed to be fun. It’s to relax you before or after a fight.”

She snorted and arched her brows. “Have you ever done it?”

“Yes. There’s not much I haven’t done in my ten years here.” He was sure she probably expected him to say no.

“Why would anyone want to do that?”

Farid slowed their steps near the kitchen. This was the one place he frequented often and didn’t cause him stress. He shouldered the door open, welcoming the smell of roasting vegetables, the clink of dishware and the mutters of Greta, the head cook.

With her back to the door, Greta yelled, “Who’s in here? No visitors allowed!”

“It’s me,” Farid called, continuing to lead Sora to the side of a counter filled with covered dishes and the stool that hadn’t moved in the five years since he’d started visiting.

Greta spun around with a welcome smile on her blue face. The Zudan’s multiple arms waved in the air, several holding utensils and spices. “Farid! Help yourself. I always keep stuff prepared for you just in case.”

Guiding Sora to sit on the stool, Farid pulled several bowls toward the space in front of her. “Thank you, Greta.”

“Mmhmm.” Ignoring Sora, she turned

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