Read Online Catch a Falling Star by Fay McDermott - Free Book Online
Authors: Fay McDermott
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who he
was. Fortunately, she managed to present a straight face to
Farley by the time he turned to look at her, seeking support in
his assumption.
She lifted her
shoulders and shook her head. “Could have been a fail-safe, set
to blow if the ship was breached. Or something like that.” She
offered the opinion, not believing a word of it. Though it
sounded like a fairly logical possibility, she was convinced the
destruction had been deliberate.
“Come on, Farley.
You've heard all the stories about how those Fed pigs don't give
a rat's ass about anybody but themselves. Do you really think
they'd worry about any poor non-combatants that might stumble
across one of their crash sites?” Her gaze slid toward the
starfighter's pilot. “Right, Miguel?”
He was staring at her
as if she’d grown five more heads. Miguel lifted his hand, now
conspicuously devoid of gloves, and dug it through his dark
brown hair, the waves plastered straight down with sweat and
soot. “Yeah,” he drawled, barely hiding the sarcastic taste of
it. “That’s right.”
Dropping his hand to
readjust the shirt that had gone askew, the pilot’s hair stuck
up in grimy spikes. “Let’s say we get out of here, eh?” The skin
from neck to knee along his back was tender, the soreness
finally realized now that he didn’t have a luscious woman
beneath him. He was betting it would be as red, hot and angry as
it felt.
Turning his back on
Farley as if he were no more important than a gnat, the pilot
started for the bike they’d arrived on. Maybe he’d get to drive
this time.
Farley was slowly
trying to process whether to accept Lyrianne's explanation or
not. It was difficult and not something he was very practiced
at, but he finally came to the conclusion that it didn't matter.
It was done. Still, he needed someone to be angry at for the
loss of all he'd envisioned would be his and the outsider who
was going to steal Lyrianne from him fit the bill perfectly.
Whether her fancy boy deliberately or accidentally set off the
self-destruct, he'd been the one to go inside and therefore it
was his fault.
The fat man's face
turned an even deeper shade of red, sweat began pouring down his
face and his breathing became louder and more rapid. He narrowed
his eyes and focused in on the retreating back of pretty boy
Miguel.
Lyrianne watched,
alarmed. She was sure her neighbor was having some sort of fit
and she started toward him to see if he needed help. Before she
could reach him however, he bellowed and his huge legs began
pistoning, carrying him like a crazed beast straight for the
unsuspecting Miguel. His enormous arms were stretched out before
him, fingers flexing, as he envisioned grabbing the other man by
those wide shoulders and breaking him in half.
Recovering from her
shock, Lyrianne realized there was no way she was going to stop
Farley, either with words or, hah!, physically, so she did what
she could. “Miguel! Behind you!”
Fortunately, even
without the shouted warning, Miguel was aware of the imminent
attack. It was hard not to be. The man shook the ground like
some prize bull and he fair sounded like one to boot. He was so
tempted to shout ándale, ándale but refrained, stopping
and turning to face the charging fool. Maybe if he’d had a cloak
worthy of a matador to wave about…
It really wasn’t a
smooth move to write home to mom about, but it was practical and
took little finesse. The pilot simply stepped to the side and
around the hulking beast, letting the man’s considerable
momentum carry him past.
With a roar of rage
at the sneaky little bastard's escape, Fat Farley managed to get
himself turned around, requiring a large arc to make the change
in direction. He narrowed in on his target again and came at
Miguel with murderous intent in his eyes. He didn't even notice
as Lyrianne ran up to put herself
was. Fortunately, she managed to present a straight face to
Farley by the time he turned to look at her, seeking support in
his assumption.
She lifted her
shoulders and shook her head. “Could have been a fail-safe, set
to blow if the ship was breached. Or something like that.” She
offered the opinion, not believing a word of it. Though it
sounded like a fairly logical possibility, she was convinced the
destruction had been deliberate.
“Come on, Farley.
You've heard all the stories about how those Fed pigs don't give
a rat's ass about anybody but themselves. Do you really think
they'd worry about any poor non-combatants that might stumble
across one of their crash sites?” Her gaze slid toward the
starfighter's pilot. “Right, Miguel?”
He was staring at her
as if she’d grown five more heads. Miguel lifted his hand, now
conspicuously devoid of gloves, and dug it through his dark
brown hair, the waves plastered straight down with sweat and
soot. “Yeah,” he drawled, barely hiding the sarcastic taste of
it. “That’s right.”
Dropping his hand to
readjust the shirt that had gone askew, the pilot’s hair stuck
up in grimy spikes. “Let’s say we get out of here, eh?” The skin
from neck to knee along his back was tender, the soreness
finally realized now that he didn’t have a luscious woman
beneath him. He was betting it would be as red, hot and angry as
it felt.
Turning his back on
Farley as if he were no more important than a gnat, the pilot
started for the bike they’d arrived on. Maybe he’d get to drive
this time.
Farley was slowly
trying to process whether to accept Lyrianne's explanation or
not. It was difficult and not something he was very practiced
at, but he finally came to the conclusion that it didn't matter.
It was done. Still, he needed someone to be angry at for the
loss of all he'd envisioned would be his and the outsider who
was going to steal Lyrianne from him fit the bill perfectly.
Whether her fancy boy deliberately or accidentally set off the
self-destruct, he'd been the one to go inside and therefore it
was his fault.
The fat man's face
turned an even deeper shade of red, sweat began pouring down his
face and his breathing became louder and more rapid. He narrowed
his eyes and focused in on the retreating back of pretty boy
Miguel.
Lyrianne watched,
alarmed. She was sure her neighbor was having some sort of fit
and she started toward him to see if he needed help. Before she
could reach him however, he bellowed and his huge legs began
pistoning, carrying him like a crazed beast straight for the
unsuspecting Miguel. His enormous arms were stretched out before
him, fingers flexing, as he envisioned grabbing the other man by
those wide shoulders and breaking him in half.
Recovering from her
shock, Lyrianne realized there was no way she was going to stop
Farley, either with words or, hah!, physically, so she did what
she could. “Miguel! Behind you!”
Fortunately, even
without the shouted warning, Miguel was aware of the imminent
attack. It was hard not to be. The man shook the ground like
some prize bull and he fair sounded like one to boot. He was so
tempted to shout ándale, ándale but refrained, stopping
and turning to face the charging fool. Maybe if he’d had a cloak
worthy of a matador to wave about…
It really wasn’t a
smooth move to write home to mom about, but it was practical and
took little finesse. The pilot simply stepped to the side and
around the hulking beast, letting the man’s considerable
momentum carry him past.
With a roar of rage
at the sneaky little bastard's escape, Fat Farley managed to get
himself turned around, requiring a large arc to make the change
in direction. He narrowed in on his target again and came at
Miguel with murderous intent in his eyes. He didn't even notice
as Lyrianne ran up to put herself
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