Creed of Pleasure; the Space Miner's Concubine (The LodeStar Series) Read Online Free PDF

distract herself from her worsening nausea than anything else. “My cousin and I have emigrated to Frontiera.”  
    Because Stark had given them the credit to do so, and flown them here on the Andromeda, one of his luxurious space cruise liners. Daanel had enjoyed every moment, pronouncing the voyage starry. Taara had tried very hard to enjoy herself and appreciate the limitless opportunity and freedom of escaping Earth II for a new, clean planet, but every time she remembered the true price of Stark’s help, she lost all pleasure in her luxury surroundings and only felt more trapped by what she knew was coming.  
    Daanel did not know about her deal with Stark, and would never know if she had anything to say about it. The relief and then burgeoning excitement in his eyes had made this all worth it—until now. Now, she was really here, and the enormity of what she’d agreed to do was pushing at her like a giant hand, compressing her breath and her belly into too small a space.  
    Daanel thought she was now on a buying trip to Serpentia, to meet with manufacturers and wholesalers in the big fashion markets there. Instead, Stark’s minions would be doing the actual shopping, while she consulted with them via holovid and forwarded their ideas to Daanel for final approval.
    “Good move, coming here,” the pilot approved. “Frontiera’s the best little planet in the galaxy. A-and ... we’re down. Betcha didn’t even notice we were landing, eh?”
    Since she’d closed her eyes in a last ditch effort to quell her nausea, Taara had to agree with that. She fumbled with her seatbelt. She, who generally never suffered from any stomach upsets, had been dealing with them regularly, courtesy of the crisis her life had sunk into.
    “You okay?” the pilot asked, already on her feet. “Here, let me help you with that. Hells, you’re green, little immi.”
    Had Taara felt better, she would’ve made some joke about it being because she was part reptile, but instead she swallowed again, or tried, with her mouth dry as a chunk of fabric wadding. Unleashed from the seatbelt, she pushed herself to her feet, hanging onto the armrest as the cabin spun around her.  
    “Almost there,” the pilot said, a firm grip on Taara’s arm. “Fresh air’ll set you right up. C’mon.”
    Taara stumbled after her down the short set of steps to the solid ground. There she stopped, and tried another deep breath.  
    It froze in her throat as a man walked out of the darkness, into the circle of light on the landing pad. The lights gleamed golden on his shock of blond hair, and limned his broad shoulders, but left his face in shadow. It was him . Creed Forth was real . Of course she’d known that, but now here he was before her—in the flesh. Tall, lean and lithe.
    “Creed,” the pilot said with the cheeriness of relief. “Here’s your delivery.”
    “My delivery?” His deep voice was cool. No welcome there, or in his stance, back on one foot, head cocked in negation. “Think there’s been a mistake.”
    Taara took a step back, chilled despite the warmth of the night air. She was surprised the pilot didn’t quail as well before this icy greeting, but although the woman’s friendly smile slipped a notch, she didn’t look alarmed.
    “No mistake. Mr. Stark said to bring her straight to you.”
    Taara forced herself to move. She walked forward, quelling her shivers. Looking up at the man who now held her fate in her hands, she tried to smile enticingly. She was pretty sure, from the tightness of her facial muscles and lack of change in his stance, that she failed miserably.  
    She opened her mouth to say something, anything to salvage the situation. Her stomach cramped. Instead of speaking, she bent and vomited at his feet.
     
    * * *
     
    “Whoa.” Stark’s pilot winced as her passenger lost the contents of her stomach all over Creed’s landing pad and his boots. “Gotcha.”
    Creed grimaced, blowing out a sharp breath through