the ship relayed, the coolness in its programmed voice contrasting vividly with Zeta’s joy, her vessel now repaired, her rations replenished and her heart permanently taken by the big barbarian seated in the first officer’s chair. “Gale isn’t answering.” Zeta tapped her fingertips on the faded leather armrest of the captain’s chair, unconcerned by her lack of response, Gale not a female to take unnecessary risks, her blonde-haired, blue-eyed friend as cautious as Zeta was impetuous. “She must be busy spending the excessive number of credits that have mysteriously appeared in our account.” Zeta slid her gaze to Khan and covertly admired his massive body, his muscles proudly displayed, his large frame magnificently naked. “Hmmm…” Khan hummed as he slowly and sensuously rubbed a large cloth square over her mother’s dagger, his tanned fingers curled around the silver hilt and his dark head bent. He polished the weapon with sure strokes, thoroughly, lovingly cleaning the sharp blade, his focus on the task thrillingly intense.
