The Mammoth Book of Futuristic Romance

Red Dawn Delilah Devlin

Planet: Mars

Farming Tract: 782

Year: 2213

Mary stood alone in the middle of a vast golden field, only her little house in the distance to break up the view of her large tract. No signs of civilization, other than her well-ordered crops. She feathered a finger across the tip of the wheat stalk she held. Stiff, but not brittle. Soon the harvest would begin.

Loneliness nagged. She hadn’t thought it would bother her. The interminable days of chores and nightly reporting should have kept her too busy to notice she was alone, without another human being to talk to, other than the dispatcher who’d confirmed that this day her first shipment would arrive.

Tension rode her shoulders, boiled in her belly. Today, her life would change. Again.

Among the first who’d stepped outside the dome without a breathing device, she’d taken the chance the air was truly safe, that alien toxins wouldn’t accumulate in her blood or that the newly manufactured atmosphere wouldn’t smother her.

She’d had no fear. Only a sense of wonder and fierce pride that she, Mary Bledsoe from the Americas Sector, was among the first colonists of Mars.

Fifty years of terraforming the barren planet had at last produced a habitable world to replace the one they’d ruined. The Mars-Tech Company owned exclusive rights to the project, and had released oxygen trapped in the northern icecap to form an atmosphere that mimicked the former success of Earth’s natural greenhouse and normalized the temperatures. They introduced animals, insects, bacteria – everything necessary to ensure the soil would be ready for the first crops. They dug canals to deliver the water beginning to melt from the icecap to the plains, where crops were sown by huge industrial machines – all in preparation for the colonists who would assume responsibility for the first harvests, and thereafter all future plantings.

Mars would feed Earth. Animals bred from the first pairs shipped from the home planet had been raised in cramped stalls inside the domes, but now would be turned over to the farmers and ranchers, further nurturing the classic model of pastoral life that was almost extinct on their own overcrowded planet.

The environmental lessons learned from past mistakes, along with strict adherence to new social rules, and an ordered reclamation of Martian resources, became a roadmap for humanity’s survival.

In her own little way, Mary was part of this grand experiment, this last chance for humans to survive long enough before jumping out into the galaxy to find new worlds to populate.

Given her own plot of land as a dowry, she’d eagerly signed her acceptance of a mate, which the company would choose according to her preference profile and the attributes needed to complement her skill set. Guesswork, or messy natural selection, wasn’t permitted. This she’d known before making the long journey from Earth to her new home. Since she’d had few relationships, and all had been unsatisfying, she hadn’t thought twice about accepting a mate sight unseen. Better the AI matchmaker make the selection than her.

She had yet to meet her new mate, or even learn his name. However, she was notified days after she’d settled on her small homestead – with its prefab concrete cabin, fiberboard barn, canal-fed stream and pond – that he would be selected from among the new shipment of prisoners. Because intelligent, healthy men chose professions which required less physical labor, furloughed prisoners would be given a second chance to earn their freedom by becoming spouses to pioneer men and women – a fresh start for people healthy enough to adapt to the rigors of this life, and who harbored no hopes of ever returning home. A different kind of life sentence.

She hoped he’d be strong, and that he harbored no violent tendencies, but again, she trusted in the Company to choose well on her behalf. So far, all their promises had come true. She’d signed up for a new adventure, a chance to live a life outside the crowded mega-cities of Earth with their choked air and transits.

Here, she could breathe, watch a fiery sunset that had nothing to do with pollutants tainting the air, and the deed for the land was in her own name. Her crops for the next few rotations would be claimed by the Company – the hope being that after she’d returned their investment in her, she’d be allowed to sell her grains in a free market and reap the profits.

A true pioneer, she’d stepped onto an alien planet, full of hope for a new future for the human race.

For once, that thought didn’t comfort her. Returning inside her home, she glanced around. She noted the grayness surrounding her, and wondered why the Company, with all its psychological studies, hadn’t figured out that cheerfully colored walls could do wonders to lift a woman’s spirits. But then, it probably seemed like such a little thing, and they hadn’t bothered due to the expense.

She pushed back the sleeves of her shirt and set to cleaning her little home, ignoring the images from her childhood that the smells of lemon and pine pulled from her memories.

The transport arrived amid a whirl of dust kicked up from the barren yard beside the house. The gritty air nearly obscured the moon, Phobos, as it made the first of several orbits for the day. The aircraft hovered, framed by the uneven curves of the asteroid, and then set down with a thud that shuddered the planks of her front porch, vertical engines stalling then shutting off altogether. The dust slowly settled.

She’d been sweeping, preparing the cabin for the transport’s arrival. As with every element of the Company’s schedule, it arrived precisely on time. Although prepared, a flutter of anticipation tickled her belly. She set aside the broom, wiped her palms against the sides of her sturdy blue work pants, and descended the stairs, eager to meet the shipment.

A man dressed in a gray Company coverall climbed out of the cockpit and strode toward her. She pasted on a smile. “Welcome.”

His sharp gaze swept her little cabin, the golden fields beyond it, and then finally rested on her. “You Mary Bledsoe?”

He likely wondered how someone of her stature had managed to pass the physical tests to qualify for farming. She stiffened her spine to add a few centimeters to her small, wiry frame, and met his gaze with her usual calm, chilly stare. “I am.” She bit back a sarcastic Who else do you think I could be? Every one of the thousand colonists had been handpicked and transported by the Company – they had a monopoly on Martian transportation and industry.

His mouth twitched, but he kept his gaze steady. “I have your shipment, and I’ll need your signature on the bill of lading.”

She nodded. “I’ll need to inspect.” She’d received notice of the contents of the shipment via the comm-

console situated in the cabin’s main room, shortly after claiming her homestead.

Although the fields had been pre-planted and her new home fully furnished, there were still some items, especially the perishables, that needed stocking: replacement blades for the combine sheltered in the barn, pallets of foodstuffs, clothing and fuel packs . . . and her mate.

Trying not to appear overeager to see him, she waited as the transport commander’s crew scurried to let down the rear ramp and roll out the pallets. With well-trained efficiency, they stacked them beside the porch. She counted the pallets with their quick-wrapped goods, signed for delivery, and then shoved her hands into her pockets to hide the fact they were beginning to shake.

The commander’s mouth firmed into a straight line. “Did you receive training in the use of the B-Mod collar?”

He knew she had. Otherwise she wouldn’t be here, already in possession of a land grant. She gave a curt nod. “Yes. I also signed saying I knew there were no guarantees for my safety or his willingness to work. If we don’t suit, if he proves stubborn, then I’ll return him.”

“Just don’t get too attached, ma’am. You have enough on your hands without coddling one of these rejects.”

The brusque quality of his voice surprised her. Was he truly worried? Should she be more concerned?

He handed her the chain with the controller for the prisoner’s behavior modification collar, a thin ID tag with a recessed button on one side, the B-Mod chip. She slipped it over her head and followed him to the side of the transport. The guard inside the vehicle opened the door. The prisoner scooted on the seat toward the edge, hands still in manacles, then slid to the ground beside her.

Heartbeat rising, she gazed up into a face set in grim lines. Blue eyes, cold as ice, sparked with some deep emotion as he stared back.

He was larger than she had expected. Surprisingly so. Prisoners built like this one were generally shipped to Company loading docks or to the arena. He was built like a gladiator, and she studied his broad chest and wide shoulders. His arms and thighs were deeply muscled. “You’re sure he’s mine?” she asked, turning toward the commander, who’d fished a key from his pocket to unlock the prisoner’s handcuffs.

The commander’s grunt and the flinty glare he gave the prisoner said he too had some reservations.

“His collar matches the invoice. Guess they thought you might need the extra muscle.”

Anger flashed at his comment. She’d had enough of men thinking she wasn’t up to the rigors of Martian prairie life.

Her hand still gripped the B-Mod chip. She slipped it slowly away, remembering her training. Show no fear. As long as she had the chip, she had control. Lifting her chin, she cleared her expression. “Do you have a name?” An inane question. She winced inwardly.

One side of the prisoner’s mouth quirked, but it might have been her imagination because he gave her a stony stare. “Colm O’Riordan.”

The commander cleared his throat.

“Ma’am,” the prisoner amended with a drawl.

Heat crept up her neck, but she ignored the blush threatening to suffuse her face. Turning back to the commander, she offered her hand.

His grip was strong, the look he gave her doubtful. “Good luck to you, Mary.”

Not a professional salutation, but no one had said her first name, all on its own, for a very long time.

She gave him a warm smile. “Thanks for everything. We’ll be fine here.”

A duffle was tossed from the transport by one of the guards. The bag was small. Likely only a couple changes of clothing for the prisoner. She jerked her chin toward it, knowing she was still being observed by the crew. “Bring it,” she said, making her tone curt. She turned, walking toward the cabin, wondering if the lock on her new mate’s door could actually hold him.

Colm followed the small woman inside the cabin. Everywhere he looked was gray. Bare concrete walls, fiber-composite cabinets. No curtains on the windows, just cheap solar-glass that turned a milky color when the sun hit it directly. Utilitarian. Ugly.

Ugly, everywhere he looked. Except the woman.

She was a surprise. Small and slender, she didn’t look capable of driving a combine, much less handling a man as large as himself. But for the chip she wore around her neck, he could overcome her inside a single heartbeat. And yet, she hadn’t hesitated to accept him.

Her clothing was the pioneer uniform – heavy denim trousers, a form-fitting, long-sleeved shirt, insulated to retain body heat or to wick away moisture if the air grew warm. Her small feet were encased inside clunky work boots. And yet she was lovely. And likely didn’t know it.

She wore no make-up. Her bluntly cut hair – held up with a single band at the back of her head – was a pretty brown with strands of blonde and red setting it afire. Her eyes, when she’d stared up at him, had been a soft green, like springtime blades of grass. Something he’d seen in domed parks back home. Vivid and fresh, those eyes. And so unaware.

The perfect product of the Company’s long assimilation program. Despite her slight stature, she’d survived the grueling testing and come to this place. But why? As pretty as she was, she needn’t struggle for her survival. She’d have made some Company scion a fine mistress. Or some gladiator a concubine.

He’d have taken her on, for a full month’s use, just to see whether he could make that blush she’d betrayed deepen.

His loins stirred and he sighed, knowing he was concentrating on the puzzle she presented because it was better than sinking into a black hole of despair. This would be his life until he died.

In another time and place, he might have enjoyed the adventure: traveling years to reach this desolate planet, testing his mettle against the elements for his own satisfaction, overcoming obstacles that arose from living on another world. However, he’d left behind a mess. One he was fated never to repair.

Everyone he knew and cared for left behind forever. Lost.

“Your room’s in here,” the woman said, her soft gaze lingering on him. She likely wondered if he was a halfwit, he’d stood there so long, staring at nothing. “Drop your bag beside the bed. You can put away your things later. We have work to do.”

Colm said nothing, but stepped past her, making sure to brush an arm against her, just to see how she reacted.

Her quick, indrawn breath and startled gaze told him a lot. She was every bit as aware of him as he was of her. Satisfaction warmed him. Here was something he could work with. Perhaps he could convince her to toss away the chip. And soon. The memory of the sharp pains it invoked, seeming to tap every single nerve with fire and agonizing cramping, was enough to nauseate him.

A prisoner now, and for the rest of his life, he determined in that moment that he wouldn’t be seen as one by at least one person on this wretched planet.

He dropped his bag beside the narrow cot. As stark as any prison cell, at least the room had a window, although the hardware surrounding it told him there would be no escape. Not that he had anywhere to go if he did manage to slip away.

However, just the thought of walking freely in the out of doors, of swimming in the stream he’d seen that perfectly divided fields of wheat from oats, was enough to keep him thinking about breaking out.

“We work until the sun sets,” she said, her voice oddly gruff. The sweet note it had held when she’d spoken with the commander was gone. But then, by the way the other man had eyed her up and down and had given her unsolicited advice, perhaps they knew each other.

The thought bothered him more than he wanted to admit. He was already feeling possessive of his new jailor.

“Tell me what needs to be done,” he said, dropping his voice to infer he was ready to do more than labor in the wheat fields. “I’m here to help.”

Her cheeks pinkened and she turned away, bending to pick up a pack and then striding toward the door.

“Let’s just make sure water’s making it to the plantings. We’ll walk the fields.”

And walk they did. Colm was amazed at the size of the tract she’d been handed. On Earth, land this rich, this verdant, was so rare only the very wealthiest could afford it. And yet here, as far as he could see, stretched yellow-and-green fields filled with fragile bio-gold.

He and his new mistress carried all-service tools slung over their shoulders, which changed with a click from a shovel to a pick, depending on the need. At midday, she unearthed crusty protein wafers and bottles of fresh water from the bottom of her pack.

He grimaced at the stale taste of the wafers, but did have to admit the food satisfied his growling belly.

Then back to work they went, with the woman walking between neat rows to inspect plants for wilt or disease, although every grain brought to Mars had been specially engineered to suit the soil and climate.

“That’s odd,” she whispered, bending closer to one wheat stalk. She tipped it with her finger and drew away with a small insect.

Peering over her shoulder, he noted the frown bisecting her brow. “A ladybug?”

“This insect’s not scheduled for release. It shouldn’t be here.”

Colm shrugged. “Perhaps it stowed away with the seeds when they were shipped.”

Still staring at the tiny round bug, she shook her head. “Makes me wonder what else we might have. I’ll have to report the sighting.” She tucked the insect into her pants pocket.

“Do you really think the Company can control every element of this world?”

“They have to try,” she said softly. “There’s a fine balance here, between all elements of the environment.”

“Is there no room in these plans for surprises? For a natural progression?”

Her head canted as she studied his face. “You’re an odd man, Colm. Everyone knows the dangers imminent when anything is given free will.”

Colm breathed deeply, pulling his gaze from her curious one. He knew she wondered about him, where his loyalties lay.

Phobos rose large on the horizon. She glanced toward it, shielding her eyes as the sun peeked around the edges of the asteroid. “That’s the last orbit for the day. We should head back before night falls.”

Colm’s body tightened. His own indoctrination had included training to please his new master.

Farmers must be kept happy, after all. He wondered if she would avail herself of his training tonight or would opt to get to know him better first.

He tamped down his excitement, but already blood surged southward, thickening his cock. A chance to lie with her, to lose himself in lust, was too tempting a thought. Could he tempt her to forget her natural reticence? “I’m trained, you know. I could give you a massage. Draw your bath . . .”

Her head swung his way, green eyes narrowed. “Let’s get this straight. I don’t need a servant or a sex worker. I need a partner. You aren’t obligated to pleasure me. So long as you pull your own weight, I’ll be satisfied.”

He suppressed a grin at her terse tone. “And what if I have needs, ma’am?”

Her jaw clenched. “You’ve a hand. Use it.”

She stomped away, but he couldn’t help smiling. He’d noted her heightened color. He’d shocked her.

Now she was thinking about the coming night and all the delightful possibilities.

Mary eyed Colm from beneath the sweep of her thick eyelashes as he bent over the bowl of stew she’d heated for their dinner. Ever since he’d offered to pleasure her, she hadn’t been able to get certain lusty images out of her head. It had been ages since she’d taken a sexual partner.

And what if I have needs, ma’am? She wished she could look at him as though he was just another machine she’d been provided with for convenience, because dammit, she had needs, too. Yet, even though she understood the necessity of physical release, somehow the thought of using a prisoner in that way felt sordid.

He really didn’t have any choice in the matter. And even though he’d offered, he might have done so because of his conditioning, not because of any true attraction he might feel. How could she know for sure? Certainly, they were destined to mate, and they both had an obligation to reproduce. However, deep inside, she hoped they’d find some affection first. Some spark of attraction to make the act feel less like another of her daily mandated chores.

Sitting across from him, she freely admitted more than a spark existed on her side. Although his features were rugged, he was a handsome man. With a square jaw and sharp, blunt blade of a nose, his face was strong and masculine. His cheekbones were as sharp as arrowheads. When he spoke, white even teeth flashed between firm lips. Already, her nipples tightened as she imagined those lips tugging at their tips.

His size alone fed a feminine hunger to feel his weight pressing over her. Thick dark hair caused her fingers to curl against the need to comb through it. His watchful eyes inspired images of him rising up to gaze between their naked bodies as they came together.

He’d be attentive to her pleasure, his training would assure that. But would he really want her ?

Mary pushed aside the foolish thought. His wants should be secondary to their mission. They were ordained to mate, to produce progeny and populate this planet, just as they were ordained to nurture the fields.

“Would you like to join me on the porch?” she asked. “The fireworks should begin soon.”

“Fireworks?” A dark brow arched, seeming to mock her flight of fancy.

“Okay, missiles, actually. Seeding the clouds. This will be the first time I’ve seen the seeding since leaving the dome. Would you like to watch?”

In answer, he gathered their dishes without being asked and took them to the sink. Then they both headed to the open door and the dark porch outside. She sat atop the steps, making room for him to join her, then trained her gaze on the sky. “It’s supposed to look like Fourth of July,” she whispered. She angled her head to glance his way. “Where was your home, Colm?”

She was entitled to his answer, but wanted more. Not intending to pry, she glanced away in case her question caused him pain.

“Arizona,” came his gruff reply. “You?”

She smiled. “Iowa. My great-great-grandparents were farmers. It’s partly why I decided to apply for the land grant.”

“Were there other reasons?”

She grimaced. “I wasn’t the best student. No aptitude for math or science. And since I didn’t want to be consigned to factory work, I volunteered for this.”

“Did you leave anyone behind?”

She shook her head. “My parents died several years ago. There wasn’t anyone.” Although she wasn’t sure she wanted to know, she asked, “Did you leave someone behind?”

Colm drew a deep breath. Sorrow deepened the grooves beside his mouth. “My father. He was in enforcement. And my little brother. Also a cop.” His mouth tightened, and then he shot her a pointed glance. “You haven’t asked me the important question yet.”

She swallowed hard. “What crime did you commit?”

His smile was bittersweet, a thin twisting of his firm lips. “My crime was daring to question.”

Shock rattled through her. “You were a rebel?”

“Imagine that,” he said, his tone filled with bitter sarcasm. “They sent one of my kind here.”

She shook her head. “Were you involved with the bombings?”

“No. I chose civil disobedience. I never wanted to harm anyone.”

His glance fell away and she noted the tightness of his jaw. “But you did?”

His glance fell to his hands, which gripped his knees. “I broke into a comm facility. I was the one with the skills to get us inside. We intended to divert the feed and post our own transmissions. Free radio. Tell the truth about what the governments were up to.”

“Up to?” She snorted. Seemed everyone had had a conspiracy theory or two.

His gaze swung her way, his eyes cold as a Martian glacier. “You don’t get it. Whole regions of the Earth were dying. Our only hope was population reduction and plantation projects. Plans were already in motion, plans every single government in the Seven Sectors supported.”

She shook her head. “A grand conspiracy?”

His eyes narrowed. “How about extermination? World population extermination.”

Mary studied his face. Colm believed what he said. How the hell had he gotten past the psych evaluations? “That’s ridiculous. They’re already practicing population control.”

“It wasn’t working fast enough.”

“How do you know?”

“I was military, ma’am,” he bit out. “Part of the group responsible for security around the Seven Sectors summits. I heard everything. That’s why I’m here, and not in some hellhole prison camp on Earth.

They didn’t want word getting out before they could begin. While I slept in stasis aboard the prison ship traveling here, it happened. It’s done.”

Cold, like ice water spilling down her spine, shivered through her. “But news feeds . . . there’s been no mention. Something that big—”

“The feeds are fiction,” he ground out. “To keep you happy. To keep you working and productive. The next waves of colonists are already in transit, just as dumb and oblivious. It might be years before you all learn the truth.”

Mary grew still. Everything he said made sense. “Extermination . . .” She raised her glance to the sky, searching for the small speck of unblinking light that was the Earth. “I don’t know why that’s so shocking.

It’s what the doomsayers have been talking about for years. The end of the world.”

“No. New life. That’s the name of the initiative. Their comforting spin for those who were allowed to live.”

Mary sat silent for a long moment, and then dragged in a deep breath. “Do I want to know how they did it?”

“I was arrested before I could find out. But it had to be fast, targeted.”

Flares lit the sky above them, and then explosions sounded as the missiles blew apart, delivering their payload. “The fireworks,” she whispered, trying not to imagine how the governments had cleansed the Earth.

Moving slowly, Colm placed his arm around her back. Mary sat, stiff, unyielding, then leaned close to his side, accepting his comfort. Maybe his crime had been misinformation. Maybe he was a con man.

However, deep inside, she knew he’d spoken the truth.

“So, your father and brother?”

“Dead.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

His chin scratched the top of her head as he folded her closer. “As awful as it is, I won’t let bitterness touch you,” he said, his voice filled with gravel. “My promise. What you have here, what you might share with me, is something . . . hopeful. I get that.”

She tilted back her head. “This isn’t an easy life, Colm. And for most of the time, we’ll be alone out here. I’d like for us to be friends.”

One corner of his mouth curled up, and his gaze narrowed. “Could that be friends who sleep together?”

Relieved he seemed ready to change the painful subject, she arched a brow. “Are you afraid of sleeping on that little cot?” she teased, surprised she still knew how to be seductive.

“Terrified.” A hand cupped the back of her head, and she relaxed, giving him the weight of it, surrendering as bright starbursts of light filled the sky beyond him and he kissed her.

They undressed in silence. Mary was glad he didn’t feel the need to talk. Her mouth was dry, her tongue thick. She thought she’d probably only manage a croak if she tried to enter into any bedroom conversation.

However, the moment he shoved down his trousers, her mouth moistened.

His cock sprang free, tilting toward the ceiling, and all she could think was how relieved she was that there was proof of that elusive spark she’d hoped for.

He climbed onto her larger bed and lay on his side, a curled hand supporting his head, and patted the mattress. A faint smile curved his lips as his gaze swept her trim body. She noted his pause when his gaze touched on her breasts, then again when it dipped to the apex of her thighs.

His cock jerked. His legs shifted, opening as he bent one to make room for his burgeoning erection and hardening balls.

Without hesitating, she lay down beside him, rolling to her side to face him.

He cupped her chin and rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. “Are you sure you want to settle for friends?” he asked softly.

“I hope for more. I do. But for now . . .”

His thumb rasped her lips again. “Yes?”

She rubbed her cheek against his large palm. “For now, I’d settle for sex. Straight up, sweaty sex.”

His smile stretched. “Yes, ma’am.”

Their second kiss wasn’t the sweet, chaste thing they’d shared on the porch. The moment his lips touched hers, his hand smoothed down to cup her bottom and pull her closer. His cock dug into her bare belly, and her body reacted, her sex swelling, excitement seeping from inside her as her hips flexed to bring their bodies closer still.

His mouth pressed against hers. His tongue darted out to push against her closed lips until she opened, then swept inside to tangle with her own. She sighed into his mouth, and he rumbled back.

With a quick breathless movement, he rolled atop her body, nudging with his knees to open her. When the long, thick ridge glided against her folds, she bent her knees and cupped her hips, forming a cradle for him to rock against. Her arms encircled his strong back, and she sought handholds, squeezing his shoulders, running her fingers down the deep indentation of his spine, raking her nails across his buttocks to encourage him.

When he finally rose, braced on both arms, his mouth was tight, tilted on one corner. “I could slow down . . .”

“I want you inside me. Don’t make me wait.” She narrowed her eyes and touched the B-Mod chip, still around her neck – but raised her eyebrows to let him know she only teased.

The growl he gave made her giggle, but she forced her mouth into a frown until he shifted, raising his hips then dipping into her with the blunt round tip of his cock. She contracted, holding him there.

Her breaths deepened; endorphins released. Her lids drifted down as the pleasure prickled her skin and liquid flowed to ease his entry.

Colm dropped to his elbows. His body blanketed hers, warming her inside and out. His movements were small, subtle pulses, enough to keep them both excited, but not so much that they rocketed toward orgasm.

“You’re stronger than you look,” he murmured. His sleepy gaze said how much her sexy inner muscles pleased him.

She gave him another squeeze, and then undulated her hips. “I’m not delicate, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“Are you impatient?”

She shook her head, but then wrinkled her nose. “Getting there, I think.” And she was. Her nipples were tight, needy beads that couldn’t be satisfied with the gentle scruff of the curly hair on his chest.

“Colm, please,” she whispered.

“Please? You have only to command me.”

“Not here. Not now.” Her fingernails dug into his ass. “I need you to take me. Move now. Please, Colm.”

He lowered himself further, sliding his hands beneath her body to cup her ass, then began to drive deeper and deeper, sounds echoing against the hard concrete walls.

She moaned in his ear, then sucked the lobe between her lips and bit him. “More,” she whispered.

Colm withdrew abruptly, kneeling over her. Rough hands turned her over and pulled up her hips. She got her knees beneath her a moment before he set his thickness against her and plunged inside.

Mary howled. Not from pain, but from joy. Pushing up on her arms, she rocked backward to meet his thrusts, reveling in the sensations his motions produced. Fierce, hot friction burned inside her; her bottom warmed as his pelvis slammed against it. His fingers curved around the corners of her hips.

She exploded, emitting a wail as her orgasm cascaded over, quivering along her skin, rippling deep inside her channel.

His muffled shout followed, but he continued to rock against her. When he slowed, his body bent to blanket her back. His arms encircled her in a crushing hug.

She didn’t mind. Inside his strong embrace, she felt a sense of welcoming, of peace, of pleasure shared.

They fell to the bed, bodies still connected. With his arms around her, she snuggled her bottom into the cradle of his thighs and slept.

Rain pattered on the metal roof, a soothing sound that had Mary nestling deeper against Colm’s chest.

With a thigh trapped between his and an arm around his waist, it seemed she was every bit as content as he was.

For the first time since he’d awoken aboard his transport ship after the liquids had cleared from his lungs in the stasis cell, he didn’t awaken with his chest tight with sorrow. The woman nestled so closely against him was an innocent, as much a pawn in this grand scheme as he was. There was no war to fight.

No cause to herald.

All that was left was surrender.

As he lay there with his mistress wrapped around him, his body began to shake. Tears eased from his eyes and seeped into the pillow beneath his head. He closed his eyes and willed himself to lie still so as not to wake her.

“What’s wrong?”

He couldn’t answer for the lump lodged at the back of his throat.

Hands cupped his face. Thumbs swept away his tears. Then soft kisses peppered his cheeks, jaw, mouth. “Tell me.”

He opened his eyes to find her soft green gaze glittering with concern. “This will be our life.”

“And that saddens you?”

“God, no,” he blurted, shamed by the ragged texture of his voice.

Her mouth pressed against his again, then she rose beside him, kneeling. Her hand closed around the controller chip and she lifted the chain from around her head. Without a word, she handed it to him. “I never wanted a slave. I didn’t lie when I said I wanted a partner, but more than anything, I would like for you to be my husband.”

Colm breathed deeply, blinking away his tears. He gave her a nod, then reached to pull her against him.

“More than anything, I want to be your husband.”

Her smile crept slowly across her face. Moisture gathered in her eyes, and she laughed and wiped it away with the backs of her hands.

Colm’s chest expanded. Happiness lifted guilt and helpless anger from his soul – borne away by the radiance of her smile. “What shall I call you?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Getting tired of ‘ma’am’?” she teased from beneath her dark lashes.

He nodded.

“Me too. I’m Mary.”

A sweet name for a woman who hid all her softness behind a facade of brisk competence. “I like it,” he murmured. “Do the fields need us, Mary?”

“Not until the rain stops.”

He narrowed his eyes and reached up to palm a small, round breast. The nipple was soft as velvet. The tip hardened beneath the press of his thumb.

Her breath caught and held. She tossed back her head, shaking her hair behind her.

“Grow it long,” he said.

“For you, I will.”

“What else will you do to please me?”

She arched a brow then slowly straddled his body. “Whatever you desire.”

“Am I now the master?”

A sexy grin stretched across her pretty face. “If it pleases you.”

Colm raised himself on his elbows and drew a turgid nipple between his lips, not relenting until she sighed and clutched his hair.

When he drew back, he lifted her, urging her down his body.

She needed no further instruction, kissing her way down his chest, teasing his belly with gentle bites and wet kisses until she knelt between his legs and took him into her mouth.

Colm groaned as she devoured him, sifting her hair with his fingers, pinching her ears to pull her deeper. Her hands surrounded him, her sweet mouth locked beneath the sensitive ridge and suckled while her tongue lavished him with wet sliding caresses.

Joy like he hadn’t felt in years poured through his veins. He gripped her hair and pulled her from him.

Then forcing her to her back, he ravaged her breasts with hot flicks of his tongue and stinging pinches which caused her to yelp and giggle.

Smiling, he worked his way downward, hands caressing her smooth belly, fingers digging into her firm bottom and thighs as he opened her. Arousal, potent and spicy, filled his nose as he buried his mouth between her legs until she squirmed and bucked beneath him.

When she was breathless and he was so hard he couldn’t wait a moment longer, he brought her over him, watching as she guided him inside her. She let go, leaned back her head and sank deep, gliding downward in a single stroke. She paused, swaying over him. “Do you think they planned the rain to happen today for just this purpose?”

He grunted, not fond of the Company, not wanting the big consortium to intrude into their bedroom, but what she said held merit. “Perhaps. But we had the choice of how to spend the downtime, Mary.”

She began to move, slowly at first, inching up, then down. His cock warmed inside her snug hollow.

When a wave of heat swept through him, he decided he’d let her savor the ride another day.

He flipped them, relishing her cry of surprise. Without pausing he stroked into her, clutching her buttocks to hold her close so that each roll of his hips tunneled deep. The push-pull of his motions drew sighs and groans. Her legs moved restlessly, inner thighs rubbing his legs, then rising higher until she gripped his waist.

Her small hands pushed against his chest, and he lifted himself, bracing on his arms, increasing the length of his strokes and giving each forward thrust a snap that shoved her body up the bed. Before long, the bed frame groaned, pounding against the wall.

Mary’s breaths were shallow, open-mouthed. Sweat slicked both their bodies as they writhed together.

When the first internal flutters heralded her blooming orgasm, Colm pounded harder, deeper, not satisfied until a garbled scream ripped from her throat.

Only then did he let go, giving his own hoarse shout of triumph. His thrusts slowed. Her legs eased from his waist. He sank over her, tucked his face into the corner of her shoulder and released an agonized sigh.

She giggled beneath him. “That tickled,” came her throaty complaint.

He raised his head, centered her face between his palms and gave her a hard kiss. “Will you melt if you get wet?”

Her brows shot high. “Too late on both counts.”

His snort jerked against her chest. “I meant, would you mind taking a walk in the rain?”

He held her hand as they walked beside the stream bank. She liked the way his large hand engulfed her own. Another reminder of his largeness, which she’d so thoroughly enjoyed.

The place between her thighs felt hot. Her nipples raw. But she couldn’t wait for nightfall to beckon them back to bed. As odd as it seemed, she was already in love with Colm O’Riordan. Head over heels – with a man who’d arrived in manacles just a day ago.

Rain misted down on them. Their clothes and hair were soaked, but they continued to walk. She didn’t mind the exercise or the comfortable silence.

“It’s like we’re the only people on this planet,” he mused. “It’s so quiet. Restful.”

“The first week I was here, I wondered what was missing. Whether my ears weren’t working right. I was so used to the constant noise in the dome, the hum of the fans.”

They neared the bend of the stream. Mary halted, eyeing the object clinging to the edge of the bank. “Is that a tree?”

“A bush, perhaps?”

He let go of her hand and they both knelt beside the object.

“They planted orchards further north,” she said, touching the edge of a green leaf.

“They aren’t going to be able to control every element of this new world. Life will find a way to flourish.”

“Or they’ll cut it down.” She raised her head. “Maybe we should replant it near the house.”

A smile quirked up one corner of his mouth. “Are you suggesting we nurture rebellion?”

“A quiet one. It’ll give the house shade when it’s larger.”

Colm laughed. “Ever practical.” They dug with their hands around the shallow roots and pulled up the sapling. Then he took off his shirt and wrapped it around the roots.

With her smile warming him, Colm captured her hand again and they headed home.