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An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
Planet X
ISBN # 1-4199-0550-3
Planet X Copyright© 2006 Evangeline Anderson
Edited by Shannon Combs.
Cover art by Syneca.
Electronic book Publication: March 2006
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written
permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is
purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been rated E
–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic),
and X (X-treme).
S- ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.
E- rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word
count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable,
such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most
graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”,
“pussy”, and such within their work of literature.
X- treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles,
stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.
Evangeline Anderson
This book is dedicated with love and gratitude to Treasure. Thanks for always being
there to cheer me on and for being my constant reader.
Chapter One
“No, no, Krisa! Come away at once .”
“But who is he? What is he?”
Krisa Elyison stared with fascination at the huge, blindfolded man who was chained
in the metal-lined hold of the Star Princess . He was the biggest man she had ever seen,
and it wasn’t just that he was tall, which was obvious even though he was sitting on a
narrow metal bench. He was massive as well.
The prisoner had a broad chest and thick arms roped with muscle that led down to a
narrow waist and powerful thighs spread wide in a lazy slouch. Spiky, bluish-black hair
was buzzed close to his scalp and his skin was a dusky, exotic tan that Krisa had never
seen before. Everyone on her home planet was quite pale, owing to the configuration of
their sun. There was a coiled tension in his muscular form that reminded her of a wild
animal in repose.
“Krisa, come away.”
“But what’s he doing here, Percy?” Krisa turned to the small, nervous man behind
her, one delicate eyebrow arched in question. The Star Princess was a light tonnage
merchant-class cruise ship that carried an equal amount of cargo and passengers, but
Krisa couldn’t remember anything in the glossy holo-brochure about it doubling as a
prison transport.
“That’s none of your concern, my dear. Now if you’ve got your luggage settled, then
we need to go back to the blast couches and prepare for liftoff.” Percy gave her the
small, tight grimace that passed for his frown.
Percy DeCampeaux was her chaperone, sent to accompany her from her home planet
of Capellia to Lynix Prime. Krisa had never met a more nervous and prissy person,
despite the fact that a genetic variation in the Capellian population ensured that
two-thirds of its inhabitants were female.
Ignoring her chaperone’s orders, Krisa took a step closer to the bound and
blindfolded man. She was supposed to be stowing her pale pink carryall cube in the
hold and preparing for liftoff, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the massive figure
chained to the dull silver wall of the hold. There was something fascinating about him, a
masculinity so intense it was nearly primal. She patted the thick roll of hair at the back of
her neck nervously, making sure all her chocolate-brown curls were securely in place,
though the prisoner couldn’t possibly see her through the thick black blindfold he wore.
“Krisa,” Percy said, in that high, nasal voice she found so annoying. Krisa glanced
over her shoulder and saw that he was standing well back from the bound man, fiddling
with his monogrammed luggage nervously.
“Just a moment.” She took another step, moving around a mountain of luggage that
had been strapped down securely for liftoff. Her long, sateen skirts rustled across the
metal floor plates with a sound like the uneasy whispering of ghosts. Krisa had been
hoping for a little adventure on her first and only interstellar trip, but she’d never
imagined it would start the minute she set foot aboard the ship.
It was her first trip off-planet and very likely her last. She was going to meet Lord
Radisson, her future husband, who was the planetary envoy to Lynix Prime. Soon her
only function would be to serve as a dutiful wife and hostess to one of the wealthiest
men in the galaxy, and there would be no call for any further adventures in space. Which
was why Krisa was determined to make the most of this one, no matter what Percy said.
She took another step and the prisoner raised his head, his nostrils flaring in her
direction. Almost as though he was scenting me. The thought made Krisa shiver even as she
studied the man’s face. He had a full, red, cruel-looking mouth and his jaw was covered
with dark stubble. Plain black trousers molded to his powerfully built legs and the
black tank shirt he wore left his muscular arms and shoulders bare. She wondered if he
wouldn’t get cold in the metal-lined hold.
“Hello?” she said hesitantly. She was close enough now that she could smell a
warm, musky scent coming from the chained man. It had a wild tang that, like his
appearance, was utterly masculine. Somehow, that scent seemed to invade all her senses
at once, making her feel restless in a way she couldn’t understand.
His nostrils flared and he turned his head, as though tracking her somehow. Krisa
felt suddenly breathless. She tugged at the high, confining collar of her dress, wondering
why it suddenly seemed so warm in the previously chilly hold.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He’d as soon bite you as pass a civil word.”
Krisa gave a little scream and jumped back, putting a hand between her breasts to
still her rapidly pounding heart. The tight cincher she wore beneath her clothes to give
her a perfect hourglass shape pinched her sharply at the sudden motion, and she
stumbled, falling into the chained prisoner’s lap. Reaching out blindly, she caught
herself on one rock-hard thigh, feeling the blindfolded man’s muscles tense immediately
beneath her palm. Krisa got a brief, blurred impression of immense strength, barely held
in check by his bonds, and heard Percy shout a belated warning somewhere behind her.
A low growl was building in the prisoner’s corded throat, but before he could say
anything to her, she was yanked backwards and away from him.
“Here, that won’t do at all.” The man who had spoken to her was giving her a look
that was half concerned and half reproving. “You’re lucky he didn’t take off your face.”
He wore a short maroon jacket trimmed with gold braid and narrow black pants that
ended in shiny black boots.
Krisa recognized the uniform of the Royal Space Corps at once. The man who was
speaking certainly wore it well, but despite the broad shoulders which filled out the
braided jacket admirably and his thick head of blond hair that gleamed in the dim
overhead glows of the hold, Krisa’s eyes kept returning to the chained man. She
wondered what he might have said to her if the officer hadn’t pulled her away. Indeed,
she barely registered the fact that the man who had spoken was still holding her arm,
but the inappropriate contact was certainly not lost on her chaperone.
“I’m sorry, and you are?” Percy, who had been cowering in the corner of the hold,
now stepped forward, bristling at the stranger’s audacity. “Be so kind as to unhand the
future Lady Radisson,” he added, drawing himself up to his full height of five foot four,
and looking the newcomer squarely in his delightfully cleft chin.
“Terribly sorry, so rude of me, but I was concerned for the lady’s safety.” He
released his hold on her forearm and stepped back a pace. “Allow me to introduce
myself. Captain Owen Ketchum at your service.”
He sketched a charming little salute and actually bowed over her hand when Krisa
held it out to him. She caught a whiff of expensive Tazzenberry cologne and wondered
where his accent was from. New Britton, maybe?
“I’m Krisa Elyison of Capellia, and this is Percy DeCampeaux, my chaperone. We’re
going to Lynix Prime,” Krisa answered before Percy could stop her. “Where are you
headed, Captain Ketchum?”
“Making my way back to Lynix Omega to deliver that brute.” He jerked his chin at
the chained man who sat silently on the narrow metal bench. “Kurt Teague.He’s a Feral
from Al’hora. He’s already escaped once, which is no mean feat when you consider the
Lynix Omega Correctional Facility’s a triple-X maximum-security prison.” He shook his
head grimly. “This time, as you can see, we’re taking no chances. Those magno-locks are
rated for over ten thousand psi each.” He gave her a condescending little smile. “That’s
quite a lot, in case you’re wondering, Miss Elyison.”
No chances indeed , Krisa thought, as she returned her attention to the silent,
blindfolded prisoner. Both of his muscular forearms were indeed encased in the
unbreakable magno-locks, which were attached to chains affixed firmly to the walls on
either side, forcing his upper body into a very uncomfortable-looking spread-eagle
position. The thick titanium-steel manacles certainly looked strong enough to hold
anyone in place but, remembering her earlier impression of his immense strength, Krisa
wondered if looks might not be deceiving in this case.
As she watched, the prisoner tilted his head back and bared white teeth in a
frightening grin, just as though he knew she was staring at him. But that wasn’t possible,
was it? Krisa shuddered and looked away quickly, squeezing the hand that had touched
Teague’s muscled thigh tightly into a fist at her side. To think she had come so close to
such a dangerous man! It gave her a curious little thrill along the length of her spine,
even though she knew her interest in the huge prisoner was decidedly unladylike.
“What… did he do?” she asked the captain in a low voice, ignoring Percy’s obvious
wish to be away from the hold of the ship and the blindfolded man chained to the wall.
“Oh, he’s a murderer many times over, favors the knife for his dirty work. A regular
sociopathic killing machine, aren’t you, Teague?” Captain Ketchum turned his head to
direct his last words to the prisoner himself, but Teague’s only answer was that wild,
white grin again.
Krisa thought his teeth looked much sharper than normal, almost animalistic. She
wouldn’t have been surprised to see a smile like that staring back at her from behind the
bars at the large predator exhibit at Capellia’s Imperial Menagerie.
“He seems to enjoy killing,” Ketchum went on with grim good humor. “But then,
what can you expect from a brute like that? More animal than man, these Ferals.”
“I’m surprised he’s on a merchant-class ship with normal people if he’s as
dangerous as you say,” Percy said nervously. He had evidently decided to resign
himself to being acquainted with Captain Ketchum.
“Oh he’s dangerous all right, deadly as they come. But you needn’t worry, Mister
DeCampeaux, Miss Elyison.” He nodded, and a grim look passed briefly over his
handsome, regular features. “I had a job to catch him, I can tell you. But now he’s going
back where he belongs, the Deep Freeze. That’s what the chaps who live there call the
Lynix Omega Correctional Facility,” he explained. “Because the temperature never gets
much above zero, you know.”
“But why the blindfold?” Krisa couldn’t help asking. Her eyes were drawn again to
the silently snarling Teague.
“The blindfold is actually a kindness,” Ketchum replied. “Ferals are indigenous to
the Night side of Al’hora. They never see the sun, so the brutes have adapted to do
without it, light is painful to their underdeveloped eyes. If I wished to be cruel I should
transport him without it, but I’ve never seen the need for unnecessary brutality, even to
an animal like Teague.” He grinned charmingly at Krisa who returned the smile
“But what about—” She was cut off by an announcement from the ship’s overhead
“Would all passengers please report to the blast couches? Liftoff is scheduled in ten
“Well,” Percy twittered with obvious relief. “I expect we ought to be going.”
“Quite right,” Captain Ketchum agreed. “I shouldn’t like to try a liftoff if I wasn’t
safely tucked in. Fairly painful, I should think.” He offered Krisa his arm. She noticed a
modest row of medals on his maroon jacket which gleamed with muted brilliance in the
dim light of the overhead glows. “May I escort you to the blast compartment?” he
gravely enquired.
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