The Astronomer

by Charmaine Pauls

  The following morning Fraya fed Al and changed his water. Breakfast was two cups of coffee. She dressed with aggressive movements in khaki pants and a white T-shirt, and laced her brown boots over her ankles. After throwing a pair of Lycra shorts and a short exercise top into a sport bag, she gathered her computer, files and handbag and made for her office.

  Tim was already in, waiting on her, the percolator sending its welcome aroma into the air.

  She gave him an approving nod and smiled gratefully as he handed her a cup.

  “Black, sugar?” he said.

  “Thanks. Did you go over the schedule?”

  “I sure did.” His voice was laced with surprise, and something like admiration. “Hell of a theory.”

  “Good.” She took a sip of coffee and suppressed a painful shiver that threatened to make her hands tremble. “Let’s go over it, and then I want you to show me the list of night sky requests.”

  “Your husband called, Dr. Riber.” He cleared his throat. “Several times.”

  Fraya barely acknowledged the information with a nod. There was no way she could speak to Emilio. Not in the state she was. Just hearing his voice...

  “Shall I get him on the line for you?”

  Fraya pursed her lips. “I’ll call him.”

  Tim hesitated. “He said he needed to speak to you the minute you got in, and he sounded mighty persistent.”

  No doubt Emilio was pissed at her for not taking his call last night.

  “You work for me, not for my mate. Now, let’s get on with our job.”

  They worked all morning before Fraya sent Tim to his own office, satisfied that he understood her modus operandi. It was lunchtime when Tracy appeared in her office.

  “You’re a workaholic,” she accused, running her eyes over Fraya.

  “What makes you say that?” Fraya looked up from her screen and even managed a smile.

  “Takes being mated to one to know one.”

  Fraya lifted an electronic pen from her desk.

  “Can’t be too busy for lunch,” Tracy said. “Coming?”

  Fraya shook her head. She felt queasy at the mention of food.

  “Not eating?”

  Fraya shook her head again. “Got a lot to catch up on.”

  Tracy shrugged. “Okay. I could bring my food up and keep you company.”

  Fraya’s smile broadened at the kind offer. “Thanks. Maybe tomorrow.”

  Tracy’s gaze was questioning, but she didn’t push the issue. “See you later.”

  When the door closed behind the other woman, Fraya groaned. She took a deep breath and prayed.

  When her phone rang a short while later, Fraya took the call, since Tim was on his lunch break.

  “You haven’t returned my call,” Emilio said without greeting.

  His voice vibrated deep inside of her. Fraya swallowed. He was angry. Very angry.

  “I was busy,” she said, taking a shaky breath.

  “I won’t let you use your job to hide from me, Fraya.”

  “I’m not hiding. I just need to focus.”

  “I was worried.”

  “Why?”

  “That you didn’t call me. Why did you ignore my call last night?”

  “I was already in bed. Emilio, please, don’t make this an issue. I can’t be on the phone with you every day when I’m at my job. My work is demanding enough as it is. I don’t need you to add to it.”

  “You haven’t seen demanding yet.”

  Ouch. That spasm hurt. Just thinking about his demanding ways almost had her on her knees. “I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?”

  There was a hesitation, as if he was considering her words.

  “What are you wearing?” he said, his voice suddenly husky.

  “Emilio,” she gasped, feeling the blood rush to her face and making her breasts uncomfortably heavy, “I’m in my office.”

  “I know where you are. I just want to know what you’re wearing.”

  “Why?” she said warily.

  “So that I can picture you later tonight, when I’m alone in the shower.”

  Bam! That mental picture hit her straight between the eyes. Her knees clenched from the blow.

  “If I tell you, will you let me get back to work?”

  “Alright. Only because I’m in a good mood. Next time, I’ll keep you to your promise. Any time–”

  She rolled her eyes, “Anywhere.”

  “Exactly. So spit it out.”

  “Khaki pants and a white T-shirt.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I want to know what you’re wearing underneath your clothes.”

  Fraya gasped again. She heard his chuckle and decided to throw his stunt back at him. “Nothing,” she said in a breathy voice. “I’m not wearing underwear.”

  Emilio cursed loudly. Fraya grinned with satisfaction.

  “You better tell me that’s not true.”

  “Want to order me to my knees?” she said bravely.

  He groaned. “Fuck. Fraya...”

  “Relax. I’m just messing with your head.”

  “Tell me it’s not true.”

  “It’s not true.”

  “Prove it. Take a photo and send it to me.”

  “Of my underwear?” she said in disbelief.

  “Yes. Now.”

  “Emilio–”

  “You know I can be there by nightfall. I’m really upset now, Fraya. Prove me wrong, or God’s my witness, I’ll fly over there and spank you to orgasm.”

  Fraya bit her lip in the onslaught of lust that followed his words.

  “Lift up your T-shirt,” he said, his voice wicked.

  “Emilio...”

  “Switch on your ePad and take a photo. I’m waiting for the picture, Fraya.”

  She knew it was pointless defying him. With an irritated sigh she did as he commanded, her finger poised above the send button.

  “This is ridiculous, Emilio.”

  “Send it,” he said in the commanding way only he could manage.

  Fraya touched the screen, and saw the file being loaded and delivered.

  A second later he almost purred. “Good girl. Now I’ll have something to look at tonight when I’m in bed.”

  “Emilio!”

  “Now, take a photo of your panties. Better yet, take one without.”

  “God! You’re terrible. Anyone can walk into my office.”

  “Good point,” he said, his tone filled with humor again. “All the more reason for making it quick.”

  “If I tell you it’s white and boring and covering too much skin will you let me get back to work?”

  “Only if you promise.”

  “I promise.”

  “That’s my girl. From now on I’ll supervise your packing, especially in the underwear department.”

  She could hear the smile in his voice.

  She rolled her eyes again. “Goodbye Emilio.”

  “Bye, baby.”

  She hung up with a grin, but with an intolerable ache in her loins.

  At five Fraya changed in the gym change room and tried to take her frustration out on the set of free weight training equipment. She did a few rounds of bicep, abs, shoulder and leg exercises, and then attacked the runner with ferocity. Her body was wet with perspiration when Andrews entered the gym, dressed in a black designer tracksuit. He flashed her a smile and took the runner next to her.

  Fraya adjusted the speed, taking it a notch up to discourage conversation. She should have known that Andrews had a skin as thick as a tortoise. Despite the obvious signal she sent out, he regarded her sideways and opened his mouth.

  She lifted a hand. “Don’t talk.”

  “Doing everything in the extreme, are we?”

  She didn’t take the bait, but instead continued to drill herself, trying to ignore the pain in her body by replacing it with a different kind of strain.

  “I just wanted to invite you for a drink.�
�

  This time Fraya looked at Andrews quickly. Again, he was being inappropriate.

  He smiled. “Nothing to get your defenses up about. I just wanted to get to know you better.”

  “I don’t mix work and pleasure,” she said, checking her heart rate on her wrist monitor.

  “Pity. You look like you could do with a bit of pleasure in your life. And I wanted to discuss astronomical archeology. I have a collaboration to propose.”

  Fraya slowed her runner to a fast walk and wiped her face on a towel. “I’m sure it’s interesting, but I’ve got enough on my plate.”

  “I’m talking about embarking on a quest for the lost Atacama city, something that should surely pique your curiosity.”

  Her cool down not nearly completed, Fraya switched off her machine. She regarded him warily. Could he have guessed her intentions? Her secret? She shrugged off the thought. She had put nothing on paper. It had to be coincidence. However, as influential and accomplished as Andrews was, after meeting the man in person, Fraya had no desire to work with him, ever. There was something about him that had her instincts going haywire.

  “Good night, Professor.”

  “Be careful. It’s dangerous out there, for a woman alone.”

  Her head turned at the malice she heard in his tone, but his face was perfectly serene.

  Without another word she headed for the change room to collect her bag, not bothering to shower there. She’d have one at the condo.

  It was just before six when she got home. Despite the cooler temperature her body was burning up. For Emilio. Thankfully, Harold Jackson, the falconer, was already waiting on the step in front of her door. She was looking forward to letting Al out of his cage, and it was a welcome activity that would take her mind of the annoying pain.

  “Mr. Jackson, I hope I didn’t make you wait too long,” she said, extending her hand.

  He shook it briefly, but with a strong grip. “Not at all. I’m early.”

  Fraya unlocked the door, disarmed the security system and invited Jackson into the kitchen where Al was waiting.

  “He’s a magnificent specimen,” she said.

  Jackson greeted Al with an evident note of affection. “He’s something else. You’re a lucky woman.”

  He pulled on a glove and a leather sleeve and opened the cage door. Al immediately stepped onto his outstretched hand and moved up his arm.

  “He’s trained to follow me, but he’ll catch on quickly that you’re his new master.”

  “How long does it take to train a falcon?”

  “Several months.”

  Emilio didn’t know he was going to mate her until the morning of the ceremony. He only had one day in which to arrange for Al Shain’s adoption.

  “You didn’t start training Al for my husband, did you?”

  Jackson grinned. “No. He was meant for a sheik. A very powerful one, may I add. Your husband is a persuasive man, Dr. Riber.”

  She just bet that persuasion had to do with points. Lots of them. “And you don’t just happen to be here in the Atacama Desert sightseeing, are you?”

  “Mr. Larraín put me up in a hotel in town. All expenses paid. He did make a very attractive offer. I’ll stay as long as needed. At least until you’re comfortable handling Al Shain on your own.”

  “Mmm.”

  Fraya pondered the enormity of Emilio’s gift. Why would he give her something so valuable, so costly, and so rare?

  “I hope he doesn’t have to stay in the cage much.”

  “He never has to stay in the cage. When you’re confident with his behavior, you can do away with it altogether.”

  “Is it difficult to train a falcon?”

  “No. But it takes time, and perseverance. At first, the tethers are attached by a cord to swivel on a wooden perch on a stake in the sand. Little by little, you coax him onto your arm, until he’s used to you. Then starts the flying and luring him back with bait, short excursions at first, and longer hunts later. Eventually he learns where his meals come from. When you set him free, he will take flight, but always seek you out and return. You must never wait on the bird. He must wait on you. Most owners use their falcons to hunt for them, especially the traditional nomad tribes. Want to give it a go?”

  Fraya nodded eagerly. “Let’s go Al. Time to fly.”

  Outside, Fraya watched as Al soared into the air, circled, scrutinizing his surrounding, then dove back down and repeated the sequence. There was something about his graceful, free movements that calmed her.

  “You can leave him outside,” Harold said. “He’ll come home when he’s ready. And soon you’ll notice that he won’t take the food you offer him any longer because he’ll start hunting for his meals. Any questions?”

  Fraya shook her head.

  “I’ll be off then. If you need me or have any problems, just give me a buzz. I’ll hang around for a few days. You’ve got my number.”

  Fraya thanked Jackson and walked him to his car. She left Al to enjoy his un-caged freedom and went back inside to get his dinner from the fridge. Harold had said he’d come home when he was ready to feed. Home. A part of her craved going home, but then she frowned at the foreign thought. Of course she was home. Home was here now, not somewhere in Santiago where her mate lived.

  Fraya woke in the middle of the night, her body covered in cold sweat. She had fallen asleep while working. The lights were on and her bed was, as usual, covered in files. Al sat on the armrest of the sofa, watching her. She stumbled to the bathroom and drank more painkillers, even if by now she knew their effect was minimal. She shut her eyes and felt tears falling on the back of her hands. No. She shook her head. She wasn’t going to give in to weakness. It would go away. Every addiction did, eventually. She just had to bear it long enough, hoping it wouldn’t kill her.

  Fraya had forced herself to eat that night, and now her dinner sat in her throat. She swallowed and gathered her files. Sitting down at the desk against the window, she booted up her computer and prayed that work would take her mind of her aching body.

  By dawn she was alternating between shivering with cold fever and burning up from the hot pokes stabbing into her womb. Al blinked as she dragged herself to the bathroom during one of those sweating spells, taking a cold shower only to shake in a freezing fit a few seconds later. Fraya dressed in a loose T-shirt with a comfortable linen jacket and matching pants. Her hands shook so violently when she prepared her coffee that she spilled some all over the kitchen counter. Steadying herself with deep breaths, she drove the car with jerky movements to the site and parked it close to the entrance. It was painful to walk to her office and she told Tim she would be busy and didn’t want to be disturbed.

  Another hour into the day, panic took hold of her when she realized it was futile. She doubted that she could even make it back home. Convulsions bent her double and made her teeth chatter. Fraya was trying to focus on her breathing when Saunders stepped into her office with a file in his hand. He took one look at her and shut the door quietly behind him, his face scrunched up.

  “Are you sick?”

  Fraya closed her eyes. Great. Just what she needed. Damn Tim. Couldn’t he keep Saunders away like she had asked him to?

  She drew in a lungful of air. “What can I do for you?” Her voice was thin and she flinched at the unnatural sound of it.

  Saunders crossed the floor, coming to a stop in front of her desk. “Did you inhale the toxic air in the desert?”

  There was an area around the geysers where toxic gas filtering from the underground chambers of the volcano escaped into the air. It was far from the condo. Fraya hadn’t visited it yet. Any tours had to be conducted with gas masks or specially designed filtering mouthpieces.

  “I’m fine,” she bit out.

  “I’m no medical expert, but it doesn’t take a doctor to see there’s something wrong with you. If you want to go home–”

  “I can handle this,” she said more aggressively than what she had intended. “I�
��ve never been sick and I don’t intent to...” she grimaced, “start now.”

  “Damn. You’re scaring me.”

  If the pain wasn’t so severe it would have been funny. Big, dominant, arrogant Saunders being frightened...

  “What do you want?” Fraya said, turning away from him.

  “Tim sent a night sky request for simultaneous observation with the telescopes.”

  “And?” she said, heaving now and trying to hide it.

  “Would you like to explain why you should be filing for a request that’s not even granted to head office more than once a year?”

  “I would like to explain. Can I come see you later?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Fraya moved her chair back to face him. Anger fluttered in her stomach. How could she do her job if her boss was to question her every move? The logical side of her argued that it was only natural. In normal circumstances she would jump at the opportunity to convince him of her request, not sit here and squirm in her chair. She hated Emilio. Her temper flared for no apparent reason. She didn’t know who she was angrier with–Saunders, Emilio, Tim or herself.

  She jumped to her feet, ready to tell Saunders exactly what she thought of ... she didn’t know what. She didn’t know what she was thinking. It was impossible to maintain comprehension. The next spasm had her grabbing the edge of her desk. When the second one hit, she was on her knees on the floor, her arms around her tummy, feeling dazed. The pain blurred everything inside of and around her.

  Saunders moved forward, his hands suddenly on her arms.

  With the last bit of strength she possessed, she said, “Please, don’t let anyone see me like this.” It was bad enough that he had to. She could feel the wetness on her forehead, her body shaking so bad that she couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering.

  Saunders moved to her desk and pressed an internal link button.