Born of the Night Read Online Free PDF Page B

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    commodity. Kiara wondered what kind of man could defy the nefarious League that
    protected and intimidated all governments with its military power. Even her own father,
    who had more courage than most, refused to disobey a League directive.

    For a moment, she thought Nykyrian might answer her unconscious summons for a kiss.
    Then the most incredible thing happened, he moved away.

    Kiara frowned in confusion, her cheeks warming from his rejection.

    Nykyrian paused a few feet away from her. "Don't just stand there," he chided. "You need to get home. Your father was very worried."

    "You called him?" Kiara asked, shocked he would be so considerate.

    "Rachol did," he said before continuing down the hallway.

    Kiara was miffed by his easy dismissal of her. She had to struggle to keep up with his
    long strides which rapidly took him down the corridor to a large, landing bay.

    Nykyrian led her to a black fighter in the far left corner. They passed several people, but
    no one spoke a greeting to Nykyrian. Kiara thought about Mira's words. No wonder the
    man was distant.

    He released the cockpit hatch by pressing a button on the side of the craft then placed his
    hands around her waist to lift her up to the ladder. The heat of his strong hands through
    the material of her suit, thrilled her. The gentle pressure massaged her skin, and stole her
    breath.

    Stop it, she told herself, he's not the first man to hold you. A small smile curved her lips.
    No he wasn't, but he was definitely one of the most intriguing.

    Finally gaining a modicum of control over her tumultuous emotions, Kiara climbed to the
    top. She paused in confusion.

    She looked down to where Nykyrian stood on the ground, oblivious to her.

    Uncertainty filled her as she glanced back at the one seat inside the fighter. Was this the correct ship? Where was she supposed to sit, his lap? Warmth rushed through her at the
    thought.

    "Sit forward on the seat," Nykyrian instructed from below as he finally noticed her
    hesitation.

    She did as ordered.

    From her seated position, Kiara saw someone come forward with two helmets and a
    computer log. Nykyrian quickly signed the log, grabbed the helmets and joined her.

    Trying to distract herself from the warm body squeezing in behind her, she studied the
    ship's controls. The main panel reminded her of a museum piece. She hadn't noticed how
    old this craft was.

    Nykyrian must have noticed her interest, because he said quietly, "It's a Bertraud Trebuchet Fighter."

    "I thought they quit making them years ago and the only one to survive was sold to
    Nemesis."

    "We're good friends," he said in a strange tone that made her wonder if they were lovers.

    Before she could ask him another question, he placed a helmet over her head. Kiara could
    feel his arms moving behind her and realized he was removing his glasses. Curious, she
    tried to turn around.

    "Don't!" he snapped.

    Kiara stiffened.

    Her agitation melted as his strong arms came around her to flip the switches in front of
    her.

    With a deafening roar, the engines fired, then settled down to a soft whir. In the crackling
    distortion filling her ears, she heard the controller's voice through the intercom in her
    helmet.

    She leaned back. Nykyrian's body jerked at the unexpected contact. A wicked smile
    curved Kiara's lips. Well, he wasn't quite as oblivious to her as he pretended.

    Nykyrian was instantly inflamed by her body pressed against his own. God, he was an
    idiot! Why didn't he think to borrow Jayne's double-seated fighter? Could he make it to
    Gouran without his hormones taking over his common sense?

    He forced his thoughts from the soft body molded against his and gave full attention to
    the directive for launch.

    The G-force brought her body solidly against his, increasing his discomfort. And his
    arousal. His hand trembled as he clutched the throttle.

    Nykyrian was tempted to abort the launch and avail himself of the woman in his lap.
    Instead,