The voice command worked, though, and Randar’s face appeared on the screen before her.
“I’m sorry, Angela,” he said. “There’s been a breach of security. I have to stay with Cael until it’s sorted. I’m going to be late back.”
Angela felt her heart drop down into her stomach. “No, that’s okay. It’s your job.”
“Get Trix to help you make something nice for yourself for dinner. Don’t feel you need to wait up for me - I don’t know how long this is going to take. I’ll see you in the morning if I’m not back in good time.”
“Okay,” Angela said. “See you when you’re back.”
Randar nodded, then the screen shut off with a blink, her TV show reappearing after a moment.
Security breach. Not one she’d heard before, for sure, but she knew what this was. Randar would find ways to distance himself from her. To go a while without seeing her. And when they were together again, he’d say that on reflection, perhaps they were best as just friends.
Because if there was a real security breach, surely there would be some sort of alarm blaring? Wouldn’t there have to be a station-wide evacuation? At least something to indicate all was not well.
“Screw it,” she muttered to herself, then called, “Trix?”
Yes, Angela?
“Do you have access to any Earth music?”
Just because Randar didn’t want to be around her, it didn’t mean she couldn’t have a good night.
Chapter 9
“IT’S A FALSE ALARM,” TARKKEN SAID to Randar. “Something has triggered our security systems, but no one has actually got in, or gained access. There’s no risk to the Station or anyone on board, so no need for any sort of station-wide response.”
“Something has triggered the security systems?” Randar raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t sound like a false alarm.”
Tarkken had a pinched look about him. “Could be it’s solar activity sending a surge of power that’s tripped a sensor somewhere. Could be some of the junk Humans have in orbit around their planet has caused a bit of damage to the Station. Could be a Human hacker has stolen some of our tech and has backwards engineered it well enough to make a connection with the station. I’d be equal parts horrified and impressed if it turns out to be the last one, but it’s nothing to worry about, because they don’t have the know how or the juice to actually get in to any of our systems from the planet’s surface.”
“What about someone up here?”
“There are only three delegations on board, and they were all thoroughly checked out before being allowed in. The only other Human on board currently is your Angela. I didn’t see anything in her personal history to indicate she’s got the technological skills to pull this off.”
“No,” Randar said, his response more stony than he intended.
Tarkken cracked a small smile. “I didn’t think so. It’s a false alarm. We’ve just got to figure out exactly what kind, and until we do that…”
“Lockdown?” Cael said.
It was the first time he’d spoken since they’d arrived in Tarkken’s office. He’d been lost in thought about something as he paced back and forth, a frantic energy to him that Randar didn’t like. The afternoon’s meetings with the Human delegations hadn’t been productive. No doubt Cael wanted to get back to his rooms and vent some of his frustration in private, but because of who he was, he had to remain here with the security team until Tarkken could clear up whatever the alarm was. Cael’s life was too important to risk, even if Tarkken was sure it was a false alarm.
“Sorry, sir,” Tarkken said.
Cael waved his apology off. “Procedure is procedure. Just hurry up and find what went wrong so we can all get back to our rooms. Dealing with odious Human politicians all day has given me a headache.”
Randar had jaw ache from gritting his teeth, which he’d been doing a lot since his date with Angela. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that Andrew Carter had said something to her. Something that had put her back on edge. He wanted to be back with her, getting her to talk to him again. The longer he was stuck on lockdown, the more improbable that seemed. At lunch he’d felt her slipping away from him, going back to having her arms folded across her chest, shrinking into herself. He didn’t want her to have too much time to shore up her defences, to close him out.
Tarkken barked orders into his comm, getting responses back from the underlings who were out in the station, hunting down the source of the trigger, whilst his fingers blurred over the command station, doing searches of his own. The technical stuff went far over Randar’s head, which was why he was better suited to the position of bodyguard, while Tarkken had the dubious honour of being ‘Head of Security’.
“You’ve warned Angela you’ve been delayed?” Cael said.
“Yes,” Randar said, trying not to let pale blue, the colour of irritation creep into his cheeks.
“I’m sorry it hasn’t been the best start for the two of you,” Cael said, shaking his head as Tarkken snapped over the comm at someone. “I knew this mission was not going to be easy, but I hadn’t imagined we’d have quite as many issues.”
“I’ll endure a thousand more issues in thanks for meeting my Match,” Randar said. “But only if Tarkken solves this one quickly. I fear she’ll not speak to me again if I’m not home soon.”
Cael gave him a sympathetic look. “Have faith, Randar, it will work out.”
“I have faith,” he grumbled. “I had faith enough before meeting her, but even more so now. It’s Angela who doesn’t trust it.”
Cael grimaced. “So reluctant to take a chance on happiness. We just have to be patient.” He grinned suddenly, his hair standing straight upright a moment, before settling back down to its usual close to the scalp motion. “If I find my Match among Humanity, I only hope it’s after you’ve done all the hard work of convincing them.”
“I suppose that’s your royal prerogative,” Randar said. “Delegating all the hard work to your underlings.”
“When you have underlings, it only makes sense to make the most of them.”
Randar laughed, but the realisation that he was one of very few on the station that had been Matched hit him, filling his stomach with a mix of awe and gratitude and sympathy for all those who hadn’t had his luck yet.
“I hope you do find your Match here,” Randar said. “Being around Angela… Even though she doesn’t really trust me, yet, it’s like nothing else. I can feel it, the connection between us. She likes so many of the same things I do. And she can cook.” Randar practically salivated at the memory of the delicious meal they’d shared.
“The ability to cook wouldn’t be high on my list of desirable qualities,” Cael said.
“That’s because you’re used to having underlings to do the cooking for you.”
Cael laughed. Randar had worked for many people in positions of power who didn’t have the ability to laugh at themselves. It was one of Cael’s most endearing qualities.
“What would be high on the list?” Randar asked, shooting a glance at Tarkken as he cursed someone else out over the comm.
“Not looking at me like I’m a commodity would be a good start,” Cael said, then paused a moment, giving it some thought. “I suppose someone who knows who they are and isn’t ashamed of it. I spend so much time around people pretending to be something they’re not, or trying to be a certain way because they think it will gain my favour. To be around someone who didn’t bother with any of that… It would be refreshing, I think. It’s what I like in my friends, anyway.”
Randar knew he was counted among those friends. He worked for Cael first and foremost, but their relationship had grown beyond the boundaries of a bodyguard and his prince. He’d long since stopped with formalities unless they were in public. Randar was glad he could be a friend to Cael. He didn’t think the prince had many.
It took Tarkken and his team a little under an hour to find the source of the alarm - a power surge had burned out
a key piece of circuitry. Easy to replace, and not as a result of any probing from Human sources. Cael was good humoured about it, although Randar thought the prince looked more than a little drained when he headed off to his quarters.
He couldn’t let himself be too distracted by Cael, though, when Angela was waiting for him in his own quarters. He felt a bit bad for it, but reasoned that Cael’s worries would be alleviated if he and Angela made a success of their Match. Randar tried not to jog back to his suite in his eagerness to see Angela again.
He paused a moment as his door to check his clothes were straight before scanning his wrist over the lock. The door hissed open, sliding back to admit him. Sound rushed to greet him. Music, but not any he’d heard before. It had to be Earth music. He stepped inside, heading into the living area. As he rounded the corner, his jaw nearly dropped.
Angela was laughing at Trix, who was in her orb form moving from side to side.
I’m not sure this form is optimal for dancing, Angela, Trix said.
“My form isn’t optimal for dancing,” Angela said. “It’s just about having fun. Can you have fun, Trix?”
I’m an Artificial Intelligence, not a bore.
Angela laughed again, tipping her head back as she swayed her hips in time to the rhythm. Randar had to disagree about her form not being optimal for dancing. The way she moved had heat rushing straight to his groin.
I think Randar would be a better dance partner, Angela, Trix said, swivelling to face him. Angela followed her gaze, eyes widening when she saw him there.
“Trix! Stop the music,” she called, face turning bright red.
The music stopped.
“You don’t have to stop on my account,” Randar said.
“You’re back,” she said, sounding surprised about it.
“Tarkken’s team were quick to find the problem and resolve it,” Randar said. “Thank the stars, I hate being on lockdown.”
Especially now he knew Angela had been having such a good time without him. Wearing only a t-shirt that barely skimmed her thighs. Randar’s eyes wandered down the length of her strong, shapely legs a moment, before he caught himself and looked back at her.
“What were you listening to?” he asked.
“Just some cheesy early twenty-first century music. Sorry, I know it’s terrible. It’s my guilty pleasure,” Angela said, cheeks still burning red. She tugged at the hem of her shirt and kept moving her arms in front of herself, as if to cover something up.
Randar hadn’t heard enough to pass judgement on whether it was terrible or not, but he knew he didn’t like how Angela always felt the need to apologise to him, even when she hadn’t done anything wrong. That timidness had to come from somewhere, and he was starting to suspect that she’d been hurt by someone in the past. The thought made him want to rage at whoever it was, but he tried to push the emotion out of his mind and scales. He didn’t know if Angela knew what the blue rising in his cheeks meant, but he knew she could read a scowl, and didn’t want her to think it was directed at her.
“I don’t understand the concept of a guilty pleasure,” he said, trying to sound light and amused. “Why do you feel guilty about taking pleasure in something? It’s just music - it doesn’t hurt anyone.”
“I don’t know… It’s just something that you know is a bit rubbish, or embarrassing. So you call it a guilty pleasure.”
“Humans are altogether far too concerned what other people think.”
“Maybe,” Angela said with a timid shrug. She tugged at her shirt again, then turned towards the bedroom. “I should get dressed.”
“You don’t have to,” Randar said. “It’s already late - not much point changing out of your bedclothes just to change back in to them.”
Angela looked anywhere but at him. Randar crossed the room to her side in three large strides, touching a hand to her arm.
“Angela,” he said, a little annoyed with himself for how breathy he sounded. Just for being close to her. “I don’t know anything about your culture, so please forgive me for whatever I’ve done to make you feel uncomfortable. Just… please explain it to me so I don’t do it again. I don’t want you to be on edge around me.”
“It’s not… you haven’t…” She clutched her arms around herself, still not doing more than glancing at him. “Look, I know what I am and what I’m not. Some girls look cute dancing round in their underwear, but that’s not me.”
She went to walk away, but Randar closed his hand around her arm and drew her back.
“You’re not cute,” he said. “Cute is what small children and fluffy animals are. Why would you want to be that? You’re sexy.”
“No, I’m not,” she whispered.
“Who told you that?” he said. “Because I think I need to find them and punch them.”
“Oh, just everyone,” she said with a shrug, her voice breaking a little.
Randar cracked his knuckles. “I’m going to be busy tomorrow, then.”
Her lips twitched, a small laugh escaping them. He smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging sort of way.
They were stood close together. Too close. Not close enough. A kind of in-between place, half way to intimacy but still too far from it. He could see the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed in and out, her breaths slowing some as she calmed. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips again, and he wondered if she was even aware she’d done it. But she didn’t move away, didn’t try to create space between them, and her hands remained away from the hem of her t-shirt, loose at her side, not clutched around her. The longer she stayed like that, the more sure Randar felt.
“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” he said, stepping right next to her, raising a hand to her face and brushing back her hair.
“Okay,” she said, eyes going to his lips, before closing as he lowered his head to hers.
He intended to kiss her gently, to let her take the lead. But the moment his lips touched hers, it was as if something inside him had been unleashed, and he was pulling her body flush against his, sinking his hands into her glorious hair, moving his lips against hers with urgency and passion. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her lips parting with a soft sigh, allowing him to deepen the kiss.
How exquisitely her body fit against his, her hips slotting between his, her soft curves pressing up to his hard lines. He wanted to run his hands over every inch of her. He placed a hand on her thigh, sweeping it up to cup her backside as he continued to kiss her. She moaned in response, pressing herself closer to him, running her fingers over his scalp. His cock throbbed, already hard. He knew she could feel every inch of him, and he wanted her to. Wanted her to have no more doubt about how he felt about her.
He kissed her for a long, luxurious moment, until his lips were swollen as they moved against hers, his blood pounding in his ears. The temptation to keep going, to strip her out of her clothes and have her, was strong, but Randar pulled back, slowing the kiss and easing them both back down. Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead to hers, one hand curved round the back of her neck, his thumb brushing against her jawline. Their breath mingled as they both panted, trying to find the oxygen their heat seemed to have burned out of the room.
“Woah,” Angela said, the word little more than an exhale, her voice raw.
“Is that good or bad?” Randar asked.
“It’s what Humans say when there aren’t sufficient words to describe an experience.”
“Good or bad?” Randar repeated, a little growl creeping in to his voice.
“Definitely good.” She pressed up on to her tiptoes, and Randar thought she might instigate another kiss, but her arms went round him and she drew him into an embrace. She pressed her face to his neck, her breath tickling over him, her lips resting against the point where neck met shoulder. Randar wrapped his arms around her frame, holding her close. He would have held her all night like that if she’d wanted him to, but after a moment she drew back and met his gaze.
“Will you take me
to bed?” she said, her voice low, throaty, sending heat straight to Randar’s groin.
He caught her hand, brushing her fingers against his lips, then lead her to his bedroom.
Chapter 10
AS THEY STEPPED INTO HIS BEDROOM, Randar pulled Angela against him so her back was flush to his chest, kissing a white hot trail down her neck. His fingers toyed with the hem of her t-shirt a moment, before he took hold of it and lifted it up over her body. She raised her arms to help him, feeling exposed as he tossed it to one side. When he pulled her to him again, his own shirt was gone, his skin against her skin as his hands began to explore her torso, his face back nuzzled into the crook of her neck. He cupped her breast in one hand, thumb brushing over the nipple as he gently grazed his teeth against the pulse point in her neck. A breathy moan escaped her lips as heat pooled between her legs. She’d never been so turned on so fast, her body humming with sexual energy, her core hot and ready.
Randar turned her in his arms, claiming her lips in another scorching kiss. His hands sunk deep into her hair, fingers running through it, toying with the ends before plunging back in. Angela pressed a hand to his bare chest, touching something that wasn’t like Human skin. She drew back from the kiss in surprise, opening her eyes to see more of the scales that were on his cheeks across his chest, all of them glowing a deep burnt orange, like a sunset. She traced her hand over them, before leaning in and pressing her lips to his chest, not wanting him to think her surprise had in any way dimmed her desire.
She let her hands trace downwards, finding the waistline of his trousers. She searched for a button, unhooking them so they hung loose on his hips. He let go of her a moment to push them down, stepping out of them. She ran her hands over his backside, now clad only in slim fitting underwear. She dipped her hand beneath the hem, giving his backside a gentle squeeze. Randar had the underwear off so fast, she almost thought she’d imagined him wearing it. He drew her into another kiss, nipping at her bottom lip as he pushed her panties down, then slipped a hand between her legs, sliding his fingers through her folds.
Randar (Intergalactic Soulmates Book 1) Page 7
