“Really?” I quavered, and wished the shooter had been firing something with the power to get through my armor.
“You’re doing fine,” Mack assured me.
Targil relaxed. He even managed a smile.
“Then I will call ahead, on your behalf,” he said, “and we will have the appropriate privacy screens in place while your lady changes.”
I managed a reproachful look at Mack, before forcing a gracious smile of my own.
“Thank you, Captain. I appreciate the effort.”
My tone said I was trying to be grateful, but did not feel as appreciative as I said, and Mack gave me a look laced with anger. I gave him a slightly worried frown, and then looked away, doing my best to ignore him as any thwarted wife might do.
Muted laughter rattled through my head.
“This is better than a soap opera,” Case said.
Mack was, as always, unamused.
“I need your eyes open and alert,” he growled. “I get my ass shot one more time without warning, and I’ll space the pair of you.”
He patted my knee, timing it just right to disrupt the wide-eyed stare I’d been about to give him.
“You okay?” came in a softer tone, and it would have been better if he hadn’t asked.
Now I had nothing more to distract myself with, the pain was making itself known—and I figured a lady might just feel ashamed by the need to mention it.
“I hurt,” I whispered, casting a furtive glance at Targil and his men.
I didn’t miss the look the captain cast towards my bodice, nor the slight widening of his eyes when he saw the slug marks in the corset now showing through the dress. Even so, it was Mack he looked to, first.
“Your lady has been hit,” he said, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
Well, really? Like Mack couldn’t actually see that for himself. I wondered where this was leading—and how, exactly, Mack was going to respond.
“Nicely played,” echoed in my head, as Mack said out loud, “I’m sure she will survive, given that today she actually did as I suggested, and put fashion aside for security.”
I did not have to feign the shocked look I turned on him, raising both eyebrows and looking askance at his cavalier attitude. Targil’s expression was twice as entertaining. The poor man didn’t know where to look, or how to school his expression.
His mouth dropped open, and he closed it—and then he opened it again as though he was about to say something, only to close it as he thought better of it.
I was torn between laughing at his consternation or being sympathetic. In the end I decided on sympathy. Besides, the man already had the wrong impression of me. I might as well build on it. Before Mack could stop me, I reached out and patted Targil’s hand.
“It’s all right, Captain. If my husband says I will survive, I’m sure I’ll be just fine.”
I even managed to put a quaver in my voice, as I sat back in my seat, giving Mack a quick and dutiful glance as I did so. His face gave nothing away, even as he spoke through the implant.
“Seriously?” he asked. “What did I do to deserve that?”
“You want a list?”
“No. It’s good,” Case told him. “It’s just the right amount of bastard.”
She paused, and then added. “You carrying a stim pack, boss?”
“Why?”
“Because I’d suggest you slap her with one at your earliest.”
I closed my eyes, with a groan—which Targil misread entirely.
He went from trying to remain aloof and unfeeling to all anxiety and nerves.
“Captain, are you sure she’s all right?” he asked. “We have pain killers in the onboard first... aid... kit.”
He let his words trail off
“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to be forward.”
I opened my eyes, just as Mack scooped me off the seat and into his lap, pinning me against his chest.
“She doesn’t like needles,” he said, “but I think a pain killer would be in order. Anything that doesn’t make her sleepy.”
I glared at him, since he’d stopped just short of asking if they had stim packs on board, but Targil took it in his stride.
“We do have stim packs...” he began, his voice uncertain. “They’re a little more than pain killers, but...”
“Fine,” Mack said, dismissing Targil’s explanation. “As long as it works long enough for her to manage the evening in good order and return to the ship. I’ll have a medical team on stand-by to look her over, then.”
I just bowed my head. ‘Look her over’—like I was some kind of recalcitrant beast.
“If the boot fits,” murmured through my head, mocking me.
No fair, Mack.
“All’s fair...” he muttered, but he didn’t finish that saying, and I was glad.
‘In love and war’ seemed just a tad too personal.
“I’m sure Lord Barangail could have his doctors on stand-by,” Targil added. “I notice the lady was not the only one...”
Mack held up his hand, and Targil stopped as though Mack had pressed a button.
“If it would be possible not to inconvenience your lord over this, I would appreciate it. Access to one of the costumers for my lady, and whatever stim pack would be best for her, will be sufficient.”
I heard what he didn’t say: that he would rather Barangail didn’t know just how badly either of us had been hurt, that he was independent and more than able to take care of his people, that he didn’t want to be held vulnerable under the ministrations of another man’s medical carers, who might have agendas of their own. I don’t know how much of the sub-text Targil caught, but he bowed his head, and nodded towards one of his men.
“If it’s not too impolite,” he said, and the blush coloring his cheeks suggested he thought it might be. “I... Might I ask what the lady weighs?”
“For the pack?” Mack asked, and Targil gave a nervous jerk of his head.
Mack told him, and I felt my cheeks heat. Who knew the man had been paying attention that closely?
“I had to make sure Doc
