Broken Vision Page 7

  "They go with me," he said curtly. "For now."

  "Good." Sharm was pleased. He no doubt would add an additional set of orders to the pair's duties. They would be expected to keep a close protective eye on Alerik as well.

  "We'll be leaving after the mid-day meal." He paused at the door to his office. "And do inform them that the term 'nursemaiding' is hardly descriptive of their duties. So far, their charge has managed to out-maneuver them."

  Anticipation filled him as he rode the private tube shuttle. It grew stronger as he strode along the path to the governor's habitat. The air was pleasantly cool. Pallas Five's yellow stone buildings basked in a weak sun.

  He'd ordered a light meal--no nutro tablets--and looked forward to sharing it with Maegan. There would no doubt be some balking, but he fully intended to overcome it. The food he had chosen would tempt the pickiest appetite.

  His pulse quickened as he approached the door to the habitat and wondered how he would find her, still sleeping or awake and annoyed at her confinement? He'd left her no clothes. Would she resort to wearing his or simply wrap a linen around herself? He had indulged himself in a good long look at her nude body after he'd removed her clothes the night before, but he had refrained from touching when he'd wanted to so badly.

  He deactivated the additional security mechanism with his private code before placing his hand on the door pad.

  He knew, even as he stepped across the threshold into the silent rooms, that he was alone. Maegan was gone.

  Chapter 8

  Margaine Confluence:/Third Rising

  Pallas Four

  Maegan leaned against the plexiwall of the cleansing unit and let the comforting multiple streams of heated water flow over her.

  Finding transport back to Pallas Four had taken far too long. It didn't help that she was dressed like a vagabond in mismatched clothing--a tunic that flowed to her calves, leggings that underneath the tunic bagged to her knees, and sandal slippers that each could have accommodated two of her feet--but it was the best she could do with what she had found in Alerik Mariltar's belongings. The man was too slieking big.

  She was tired, even though it was only mid-day and even after a surprisingly good night's sleep. Her body wasn't handling recent events well.

  Even so, she smiled at how easy it had been to disengage the Mariltar security system, thanks to Makiee. He had shown her long ago a foolproof system of reengineering the communications circuits that were basic technology in almost everything. The Mariltar team must have been so sure they could confine her with technology, because no guards had been posted. She had slipped out and found the transport station with no difficulty.

  The people she had encountered along the way had paid no attention to someone looking like a wilderness wanderer. But with no identification, because he had taken it from her along with her own clothes, the difficulty had come with convincing a transporter pilot that she was the counselor of Pallas Four and had legitimate business there. He'd finally put her on vid screen with Coryon who'd confirmed her identity. After that, the pilot had broken some departure protocols and speed constraints to get her to Pallas Four.

  Alerik would without a doubt come after her, but she wouldn't be there. She had a mission to run that night. Although it was far too early to take the Lady Melia out, she planned to conceal the ship somewhere. She just hadn't decided where yet. Her plan was risky, but not as risky as waiting around to be incarcerated again.

  Had he discovered her absence yet? Probably not. She'd hacked his schedule on the habitat console and seen that it was jammed. The governor was in high demand. She was counting on the schedule being accurate and on the fact that Alerik thought she was securely confined.

  She adjusted the streams of water and turned to let them pummel her back. As she leaned her forearm on the plexiwall and rested her face on it, she imagined Alerik's reaction. Goose bumps raised her flesh, and a shudder rippled through her despite the humid heat surrounding her. The glowing sapphire of his eyes and temple mark would darken to almost black, a sure sign of his anger. Beyond that, she didn't want to think of the consequences, of which she was sure there would be something unpleasant. Would he be most disturbed over her failure to comply, or the fact that she had disabled a security system?

  Enough! She should get going.

  With reluctance, she reached for the gel dispenser. It was rare that she indulged by spending time in the cleansing unit. Usually she was in and out.

  The sharp tang of citrus swirled in the air as she rubbed gel into her hair, then across her body. Her nipples were tight and tingling, the flesh between her legs swollen and ultra sensitive. Her monthly flow had been erratic for a while and non-existent for several moon-cycles. Maybe it was about to start again. She sighed and rubbed gel across her bottom. She hadn't missed it or paid it much attention except for some passing concern that she was driving her body too hard. Her flow was definitely an inconvenience on her missions.

  She indulged herself for several more nans as the water sluiced the gel from her body, before she turned it off and stepped from the steam-clogged plexiunit.

  Legs stretched before him, Alerik Mariltar lounged in the padded chair by the deep bathing tub. From there he had an unobstructed view of the cleansing unit. His posture and heavy-lidded gaze made it clear that he'd been there for a while.

  * * * *

  Alerik watched Maegan's frantic glance about the bathing chamber for something with which to cover herself. The toweling linen she had placed ready for use by the cleansing unit was draped across his lap.

  Good thing too. He'd been in a state of heavy arousal since he'd walked into the room and found a show to excite any newly bonded man. He'd firmly repressed the guilt of an uninvited observer, and settled in to watch as her hands smoothed far too quickly over the deep rose peaks of her breasts, disappeared through the gold fluff between her legs and massaged the curve of her bottom.

  Now she stood before him, her skin flushed and gleaming in the natural light that streamed through the plexidome above. Her poor eating habits were obvious in the delineation of her rib cage and prominence of her hipbones. The batriel attack was evident in the raw scar across her left bicep.

  She made no move to shield herself. Admiration surged through him. Courage was something she had in abundance.

  She tilted her chin, looked him straight in the eye and flung out an imperious hand. "May I have it?"

  "Certainly," he said. He gathered up the linen from his lap and held it out.

  Her eyes flickered. The color in her face deepened. She had to take several steps to come close enough to snatch the linen from his hand.

  It was all he could do not to reach out and snatch her. He was granted ten nanonans more of visual pleasure as she fumbled with the linen and almost dropped it. But then she anchored it to her chest with one hand and, with the other, clumsily dragged it around herself.

  "I don't suppose," she said, as she bent her dripping head and secured the linen, "that I should ask why you're here?"

  "Not a good idea," he agreed, clamping down on a swift rise of anger. He rose to his feet, conscious of the heaviness in his groin. "This is getting to be a bad habit, Maegan."

  She held her ground even though he now crowded her personal space, but her body was poised as taut as a nervous merlocat's, and the knuckles of her hand, clenched around the linen, were white.

  "Well then," she said, and her gaze never wavered, "stop expecting me to follow orders that have no relevance to my life."

  Amazing that he could be so aroused and yet so angry. He wanted to rip the linen from her, throw her to the floor and relieve this simmering brew of anger, frustration and pure lust.

  "Did it ever occur to you," he said, and his voice came out sounding clipped and haughty, "that I might be acting in your best interests."

  "No." She tilted her chin even further. "Everything you do has a deliberate purpose, but that purpose serves your objectives, nobody else's, and certainly n
ot mine."

  "You're driving your body too hard, Maegan. It's experienced trauma. You need to give it time to recover. You're undernourished as it is." Cor's blood, he hadn't meant to add those last words. He saw his mistake in the angry flash of her green eyes and the tightening of her mouth.

  She turned her head. Dismissive. Removed. A simple gesture, but it angered him more.

  "I'm not going back to Pallas Five. I have work to do here."

  He forced a casual shrug. "Let's compromise then. At least follow the medtech's advice on rest and nourishment."

  "You're staying?"

  "For now."

  "I don't need a nursemaid."

  He snorted. "Believe me, a nursemaid is not a role I envision for myself in this relationship."

  She took three steps away from him and bent her head. The wet strands of her hair swung forward to shield her face, but he still had an unobstructed view in the mirrored wall on the other side of her. That flicker of panic had been unmistakable.

  "I don't wish to inconvenience you. I'm sure you have a busy schedule. I'll agree to follow the medtech's advice. You don't need to stay."

  And there was no way in the Universe he was buying into that one. He folded his arms. "Trust is a funny thing, Maegan. There are some people who can instinctively be trusted, others who have to build trust over time. Guess where someone who has a habit of disappearing, ignoring orders, reengineering communications and security systems and hacking into private schedules falls on that scale?"

  Her hair flew as she swung violently to face him. "Yet you still bonded with me," she spat.

  "Careful," he chided. "Or you'll learn more about my motivations sooner than you want to."

  Her breasts heaved beneath the thin linen. Her face was flushed. The air between them crackled with a tension that was suddenly and undeniably sexual. Her eyes widened for an instant then narrowed.

  "Stay then," she snapped. "It doesn't matter to me."

  She raised her chin. "Please leave. I'd like some privacy."

  "Certainly." He unfolded his arms and strolled to the door. "When you're dressed, we'll partake of a late mid-day meal together."

  * * * *

  Maegan emerged from the bathing chamber a leisurely fifty nans later, still fuming. With any luck, Alerik had either expired from hunger or grown bored with waiting and gone off to do whatever governors did. Either way, she didn't care. The more time that elapsed before she saw him again, the better.

  Her skin still prickled because she couldn't erase the image of his leisurely survey of her nude body. And it was worse when she thought of what he must have observed while she was still in the cleansing unit. He'd had time to study her and he'd obviously found her wanting.

  Undernourished! She should be happy he found her unattractive. She just couldn't understand why her nerves were so fried.

  While she'd dried her hair and pampered her body with lotions and creams she hadn't taken the time with lately, she'd come up with a plan to accomplish her mission.

  It wasn't foolproof by any means. But with a little luck, she might be able to get away with it. Because if the plan didn't succeed, she shuddered to think of Alerik Mariltar's reaction. He'd been angry earlier. She could tell from the change in the color of his eyes, even though his face and body language showed little sign. And she'd expected it. But then the anger had changed to something else, something infinitely more disturbing that she didn't want to think about. She would rather face his anger.

  She chose a bodysuit in her favorite soft green and dressed quickly. She had to make a visit to Morgon's hidden habitat to get what she needed and make it back before Alerik missed her.

  The habitat felt empty. She was fairly certain he wasn't there. To be safe, she opened up the miniature vid console and scanned the other rooms.

  She almost missed him.

  The large common room was empty, but as she was about to switch to the utility room, a flicker of movement through the wide plexiwall caught her attention. She scanned in. He was outside, propped against the rail of the gallery that overlooked the deep valley wilderness.

  "Sliek," she muttered. There was no way she could risk the trip with him in the habitat. She'd have to get rid of him somehow.

  She shoved her feet into half boots and made for the door leading to the common room. But when she stepped through it, Alerik was already part way across the room.

  "Ah," he said. "I was just coming to check on you. Shall we eat?"

  "I'm really not hungry," she replied. "I had something earlier and I need to check in on Janas."

  "Nutro tablets don't count." He had continued to walk toward her, and now took her arm and propelled her in the direction from which he'd come. His touch, even through the fabric of the bodysuit, scorched her.

  "And Janas won't implode in the next few nans without you. Thought we'd eat outside," he said. "Beautiful day."

  She felt as if she was communicating on a closed vid channel. She talked, but no one paid any attention because they couldn't hear her. Except he could hear her. He just chose to ignore her. She tried to twist out of his grasp. He simply tightened his grip and almost lifted her off her feet.

  And then they were through the door and onto the gallery. It was pleasantly warm on the wide deck--hot when the sun touched the skin of her face and hand. The sweet aroma of wild millick, a profusely flowering vine, was strong here, the scent borne on warm air currents from the valley below. Chatter from the resident colony of squems competed with the melodious coo of a transerpent.

  He turned her toward a corner of the gallery where heavy shade offered coolness. She saw with dismay a table laden with food. Her stomach cramped. She couldn't eat. Not this close to a mission.

  But he ignored her murmured objection and seated her on the padded bench. And instead of taking the opposite bench, he sat down next to her, so close his thigh brushed against hers.

  "I'm a touch famished," he announced. "The meal was prepared to be served at mid-day but, for the most part, the foodsavers should have kept the flavors intact. Why don't we start with the lexfruit?"

  She didn't bother to reply. Whatever she might have said wouldn't have made a bit difference. This side of him was totally fascinating. He was completely focused on the food. "A touch famished" didn't begin to describe his demeanor, and a memory of their first meeting on Pallas Four nudged her. She hadn't paid much attention at the time, but his intent behavior then was similar to now.

  Alerik Mariltar had a weakness!

  He snapped open a dish and used miniature tongs to lift out two long vermillion strips covered in a syrup, which he laid on a single serving plate.

  Shock sizzled through her. Mariltar custom prescribed that a newly bonded couple take their first meal together from one platter. Of course a Mariltar heir would observe such an important tradition. The shackles that had been placed on her, in a ceremony she didn't remember, tightened even further.

  He efficiently sliced the fruit strips into small pieces with his eating implement. Then he scooped up a morsel and offered it to her.

  "Open," he commanded.

  What could she do? Knock his hand away? Leap over the gallery railing? Refuse to eat like a rebellious child?

  His sapphire gaze compelled her. She opened her mouth. Flavor exploded on her tongue as her taste buds so long denied leapt to attention from the sweet stickiness. Her eyes almost rolled back in her head.

  He fed himself a bite, then offered the next to her. And so it went on, this almost silent, intimate offering of food. Every time, she told herself she wouldn't--couldn't--accept another bite. Every time the temptation to experience a new taste, a new texture made her yield to him.

  This was wrong, wrong, wrong, her head chanted, but the refrain never pushed past the thick blanket of delicious sensation that kept her body relaxed and pliant on the bench next to his. His entire side now melded to her from shoulder to knee, an anchor in a storm of pleasure that she could not allow herself to reveal.


  "Enough?" he finally asked and laid down his implement.

  Her stomach agreed but all the nerve endings that tingled with fiery anticipation every time he approached her mouth with some new offering shrieked "no".

  He opened up yet another canister and withdrew a bottle of Mariltar blue ale.

  "None for you," he said, squelching her anticipation with a reminder of her illness and its consequences. "But I do have this." He pulled out an unfamiliar tube filled with a sparkling silver liquid. "Soron ambrosia." Dimples appeared in his chin. "Non-alcoholic."

  He poured the liquids into two small goblets and offered her the ambrosia. "Good health."

  "Same." She said the word softly, as an unfamiliar shyness stole her confidence and introduced a sudden awkwardness. What was she doing? She had let him feed her as if they were lovers. He was familiar but she barely knew the man. She forced her mind back to her most immediate problem of getting him out of the habitat for as long as it took to make a run to Morgon's hideout.

  He had turned his head and was watching the antics of two furry little squems on the gallery railing. The six-limbed creatures, which had disproportionately large claws on their two middle paws, were bold to come this close, drawn by the scent of food, no doubt. She knew they would come no closer. One squealed and tumbled over the side to catch itself on the branch of a grangran tree. The other, unwilling to stay without company, leapt after it.

  Then suddenly the sapphire gaze was boring into her, far too close. His thigh pressed firmly against hers.

  "Tell me." His voice was a husky purr. "How were you able to disarm my security system so easily? I don't believe we teach classes in that discipline at the academy."

  Lulled by the food and warmth and oddly sensual experience into a pleasant, drifting state of relaxation, the question caught her off guard. She choked on a sip of ambrosia and went into a coughing fit.

  "Whoa." Alerik patted her back. He pulled a square of fabric from his pocket and handed it to her. As she mopped her eyes, his other hand began to rub her back in circles.