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her eyes widened. He couldn’t blame her. Shit, he loved this ship.
    The galley was white and silver, built on the same scale as the rest of the ship, with a long silver table down the middle and a bank of dispensers along one wall. He waved a hand at the table and waited until she sank down into one of the chairs. “What do you want?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Do you really have no technology down on the planet?”
    “None.”
    “So what do you eat?”
    She shrugged. “Whatever we can grow. We harvest it and cook it and…”
    “I think I prefer this method.” He crossed to the dispensers, considered them for a second before pressing a few buttons. This ship could produce anything, but then Callum had designed it, and after four hundred years ruling the universe, he was used to the best. Devlin wasn’t complaining. Well, not about the menu anyway.
    “Chicken stew,” he said placing a bowl and spoon in front of her.
    “Chicken? As in animal?” She sounded shocked. “You eat animals?”
    “Well, a bird actually, though I doubt very much that it ever went near a real chicken. It’s probably synthetic.”
    “Probably?” She pushed the bowl away and edged back as though the nonexistent chicken might leap out and bite her.
    He took the bowl, returned to the dispensers, and considered the options. There was something there he’d never tried before. Bloody Callum. Who needed ice cream on a spaceship? He pressed the buttons and watched as a creamy mound formed in the bowl. He couldn’t resist dunking his spoon in to taste. It was cold and rich and sweet. He handed it to her.
    “No meat?” she asked, eying it dubiously.
    “None.”
    He sat opposite her, pulling the stew in front of him, then paused to watch as she tentatively dipped her spoon in and poked her pointy pink tongue into the cold cream.
    He swallowed. Heat coiled low in his belly as he imagined that tongue licking something else. Maybe stroking along the length of his cock, swirling around the tip, caressing his balls…
    “It’s delicious,” she murmured. Her gaze lifted from the food and caught his. She licked some cream from her lips. Why did he have the idea she could see into his mind? See what he was thinking. Know that under the cover of the table, his dick was once again red hot and rock hard. Maybe he should get a bowl of that ice cream. Cool himself off, dip into it and afterward, maybe she could…
    “So eat it and let me eat mine.”
    He started shoveling the food into his mouth. It was good but he hardly tasted it. Maybe he should just screw her like she obviously wanted him to. The problem was, he reckoned she wanted more than just sex. She wanted him and the fact was—he wasn’t worth having. He was a curse to anyone who loved him. His parents, his brother… His chest ached at the thought of Tris, which just hardened his resolve. There was no one left and it was better that way.
    “Are you really the leader of the Rebel Coalition?” she asked.
    Her words dragged him from his less-than-happy thoughts. What could she know about their world if they’d been stuck here ten thousand years? Maybe this was a way to trip her up in her story. “How do you know about the rebels?”
    “Thorne gave me history classes about the old world. He said it would be important if—when—we got back.”
    He finished his food and pushed the bowl away. “And what did he tell you about the Coalition?”
    “That you believed violence to be the answer to everything and that you killed anyone who stood in your way. You hated the Church and had no beliefs except revenge. That you’d killed many innocent people in that search for revenge.”
    Actually it was more than revenge—the Church was evil and the purge on GMs needed to be stopped. But he wasn’t about to try to justify himself. “That about covers it.”
    “And you were their leader?”
    “Yeah.” Still was, he supposed. If he ever got back and if there was anyone left to lead. He