by J. J. Lore
“This isn’t the kitchen. I won’t have much time to prep, but at least no one’s here yet.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m here to cook, but that man has my knives.” Corrine pointed at Durant, and he lifted the bag out of her reach.
“Only we have bladed weapons for service.” The young officer stared at the woman, and she glared back, her hands curving as if she needed to grip a handle.
“Listen, if I’m cooking for some diplomats, I need to get started now. I don’t even know what’s back there to work with.” Corrine brought her heated gaze to Mal after glancing at Edem, who was holding back a laugh with clenched jaw and tight lips.
“You aren’t here to cook.”
“I’m not?” She gaped at him and propped her slim hands on her hips. Mal was diverted from her shocked expression for a moment as he considered what sort of form she was hiding under all those layers. Full or slender? Taut with muscle or softly curved?
“He said,” she cocked her thumb at Durant, who backed up a half-step, still holding the bag of kitchen knives in a tight grip, “I was here to do meal service.”
“My English is never good all I study. Apologies, sire.” Durant dipped his head in Edem’s direction, and Corrine narrowed her eyes.
“Who’s in charge here?”
“I am, but let’s not let that get in the way of enjoying our meal. Thank you, Durant, you may take your place.” Edem stepped forward and put on his most charming smile for her. Corrine took a breath and blushed slightly under the weight of his bondmate’s regard. Good thing Edem had charm enough for two men, for Mal failed that test on every occasion.
Corrine had somehow come close enough to brush up against his arm, and he allowed himself to enjoy the feminine touch for a moment. If she wasn’t wearing that toque, he’d be able to lean down and sniff her hair. Women’s hair always appealed to him, and Corrine’s pale gold tresses were no exception. Her body jolted against his, and she rapidly moved away from him, murmuring apologies. He immediately wanted to pull her close to some part of his body. Yes, he could now admit he wanted to engage in sexual relations with her. Edem was right, as usual.
Edem sensed his change in mood and sent him a knowing look. “Corrine, if you’d care to take a seat.”
After taking another look around at the large room filled with empty white tables, dark wood paneling, and numerous glittering light fixtures, she followed Edem, and Mal brought up the rear. Her hips swayed as she walked, and he wished Durant had been more eloquent. He would have liked to have seen her in a clinging gown or translucent pants. The next time he’d see to it.
“Are these your only garments?” It was possible. It seemed the majority of the humans he’d seen were sartorially challenged.
She glanced over her shoulder at him and nearly stumbled into a table. “I thought I was working in the kitchen. I do have other things to wear.”
He had his doubts but refrained from further comment.
They arrived at the banquette, and after brushing at her clothing as if she was worried it was soiled, Corrine slid onto the soft bench. Edem took a seat on one side, and Mal went to the other. She glanced from one to the other and then awkwardly pulled her cap from her head and looked in vain for a place to put it. Mal held out his hand, and she gave it to him.
“I’ll need that back, and my knives, too. For my work.”
“And what is it you do, Corrine? Mal discovered your workplace, but I’m unfamiliar with what services are provided at a … relief kitchen.”
She took a breath and twisted her hands together as a server arrived silently with ice water and menus. Mal took one and waved off the rest, pretending to read the listings he’d already memorized.
“We provide free meals to those in need. Bread in the morning, sometimes milk or yogurt if we can get it. Soup and bread in the middle of the day and then we close midafternoon. It isn’t the best neighborhood in the evening. A religious charity funds us as well as they can.”
The server had returned, his manner as silent as an assassin. Mal informed him of their choices, and he handed over the menu. Corrine stared at him.
“You ordered for me?”
“Of course, for Edem, too.” It took his bondmate an eternity to come to a decision when it came to food. Human dishes were usually too unsophisticated to require much consideration.
“You have no idea what I wanted to eat.”
“You’ll enjoy my selections,” Mal assured her as he looked over the limited wine list. That was one thing humans managed to produce that was quite palatable, although he understood many vineyards were failing with the changing climate. Perhaps they should consider importing some grape varieties to Alpha to augment their own fruits. He added that to his long list of tasks to accomplish in the next few days.
Corrine shifted next to him, and he looked over at her, torn from his debate over appropriate chardonnays. “What if I don’t like what you decided? Am I supposed to go hungry?”
“Of course not,” Edem said. “This restaurant is reputed to serve some of the finest human dishes in the city. I’m sure whatever comes to the table will please your palate.”
“Even if it fails to excite ours,” Mal muttered under his breath, his dissatisfaction with the native cuisine still an irritant. What he wouldn’t give for a serving of succulent tulag right now.
Her chin jutted out, and she gave a shake of her head. “So human food isn’t good enough for you?”
“It serves the purpose of nutrition.” Mal gave her a sharp look and ignored Edem’s widened eyes. This Corrine was turning out to be more defiant than he’d expected. Perhaps her seduction would require a bit more effort than they usually had to expend.
“We are simply used to different ingredients and preparations.” Edem leaned closer to her and tried to capture her gaze, but she frowned at the crystal glasses in front of her.
“What else about my planet is displeasing to you?”
Mal sensed Edem’s sudden distress, the bond between them strong enough to alert him to any strong emotion. He should have guarded his words more closely, allowed his bondmate to take over the conversation, but proximity to Corrine was wearing away some of his pretense. She perplexed him, almost irritated him, and he wasn’t sure why.
“I could begin a tally, but doing so would consume our dinner time and extend well into the evening.” He was half joking and half serious. Corrine lowered her brows, and her lips tightened. Edem gave a shake of his head as if trying to forestall her retort.
“I’m sure we seem like dirty provincials to you Alphans.” Her voice shook, and she rose from her seat, her position awkward as she had to lean against the table as he and Edem pinned her in. “I’ve done some reading about you. There isn’t a lot, and it’s mostly propaganda, but just because you have spaceships and are big and muscley doesn’t make you superior.”
“I’d like to meet the human who could best me.” Mal thought he’d spoken in a mild tone. Perhaps it was boastful, but his sentiment was genuine. He hadn’t yet met an intimidating human man. Corrine huffed out a breath and pushed at the table’s edge. His bondmate was speechless, a notable occurrence.
“Let me out. I want to go home.”
“No.” The denial left his lips without time for him to consider it. They hadn’t even started the first course, and how would they proceed to sexual negotiations without first sharing some social interaction?
“Please sit down, Corrine, and you can tell me about Earth, what you like—” Edem’s attempt to calm her and return the conversation to its proper course went awry when she interrupted him. No one interrupted the crown prince of Alpha.
“No! Are you allowed to kidnap people on your planet? That’s not very civilized at all. It’s barbaric in fact.” Her words were disrespectful, and Mal found himself rising, struggling for a response that would best instruct her on proper behavior when in the presence of royalty. She didn’t know she was, for security’s s
ake, but manners mattered. Edem sat and stared at her, a nearly stunned expression on his face. “I said, let me loose!”
Her voice rose into a distressed quaver, and she twisted as if seeking a way to vault over the back of the seat. With a moan, she then pushed at him, pressing her body between him and the table, her buttocks catching on the table cloth and pulling it. The glasses fell over, and the silverware clinked as she struggled to pass him. Courtesy would dictate he move aside, but instinct led him to capture her in his arms. She quivered and pushed at his shoulders, her eyes wide and frightened, and his whole body tensed suddenly. He remembered how she’d felt when he’d searched her for weapons in the cooler, and he fought the urge to lift her onto the table and press his hands between her legs again. Desire shook through him, and she went still, her breath shuddering in tiny pants.
“Please stay,” Edem said, his hand stroking down Corrine’s shoulder.
“No. I’m frightened. Let me go.” She repeated her plea in a soft voice, and Mal watched tears form in the corners of her eyes. Blast, what was he doing holding an innocent woman against her will?
With supreme effort, he let go of her hip and arm, and she jumped back, knocking the table askew. A plate slid to the floor and crashed apart. A strand of soft gold hair slid over her face, and she flipped it back with a shaking hand. They were all quiet for a long moment.
“Please…” Edem tried one more time to entice her as Mal resolutely kept his mouth shut.
“No.”
She lowered her head and carefully made her way past him, not touching any part of her body to his. With a shrug she avoided Edem’s outreached hand and then trotted towards the exit. Durant stood there, his face impassive as she grabbed at her case of knives. At Mal’s nod, the young officer released her property and she bolted from the room, the heavy wooden door clanging shut with finality. Mal told Durant to follow her and ensure she made it safely home, and the young officer immediately exited.
Mal caught Edem’s gaze, and they stared at each other.
“What happened?” his prince asked, nothing but confusion in his tone. By all rights, he should be berating Mal right now, demanding an apology for how badly he’d mangled this encounter, but instead his bondmate merely sounded hurt. Taking in a shaky breath, Mal gathered Edem into his arms, holding him close, his familiar body and scent a comfort in this stressful moment.
“I dealt very badly with her. I’m sorry. I’ll do my best to make it right.”
“Will she want to have anything to do with us after this? I find myself very attracted to her.” Edem bunched his hands in Mal’s tunic and hung on tightly. The same awareness and comfort flowed between them as it had from the first day they’d met, as teens attending a wilderness camp. Edem had been there impersonating a lesser noble’s son, so he wouldn’t be treated differently, and commoner Mal had been a confused bundle of energy and hormones. They’d met, become entranced, and bonded by the end of the week, to both their families’ shock. Ever since, they’d faced the galaxy together with absolute trust between them. But now, something new intruded, some flickering awareness of someone else like an unfamiliar piece of music too faintly heard to be identified. Mal wasn’t sure, didn’t want to explore the notion too deeply, but in some inexplicable way Corrine Idesa had become someone who mattered.
Chapter Three
“I will have things as I want.” Edem knew he sounded petulant, like the spoiled prince in a fairytale, but he didn’t care. Mal’s eyes glowed hot with repressed displeasure, and he knew his bondmate would remonstrate with him in private, but right now, he remained silent out of his sense of duty.
“Yes, sire, it’s just that we haven’t been able to secure the perimeter properly.” Young Durant shot a desperate look at Mal, hoping for support, but since the prior evening’s debacle, his bondmate hadn’t been asserting himself as usual. That was all to the good, as Edem was still irritated by Mal’s overbearing behavior at dinner which had frightened off their skittish human. She had pride and will, and it would take great tact to bring her back to them. Edem was willing to utilize all the training and in-bred charisma he possessed to convince her to give them a second chance.
“No matter. I have faith that my highly trained retinue will be able to defend my person from any threat which might come our way.” Edem glanced out of the hovercraft’s small viewport, the cityscape below distorted by the heavy reinforcements of the clear material. Atlanta seemed to consist of either decaying buildings and dusty empty lots, or small, walled enclaves protecting green parks and fortified mansions. Unsurprisingly, Corrine worked and resided in one of the blighted areas quite near the hotel where the Alphan delegation was staying on this leg of their mission. The lines of demarcation from the few who had and the teeming many who did not were clear.
Edem suppressed a sigh of dissatisfaction. His staff and bondmate were already off balance from his displays of temper this morning. He should have anticipated the misunderstandings that had soured their interaction with Corrine, been more aware of how out of her element she’d be in the luxurious surroundings he took for granted. He vowed to be more understanding today.
“Your Grace, landing in front of the building is a tricky proposition. There is a lighting structure partially blocking—”
“You landed there before. Land there again.” Edem didn’t look around as he prepared himself for the moment he’d see Corrine. He still remembered the rapid spark that had burned through his skin when he’d touched her at the same time Mal held her. His staff had swelled and his jaw had tightened with slight pain in the roof of his mouth. His tesak, normally dormant other than during especially intense lovemaking with Mal, had throbbed. The implications of that physiological reaction weren’t lost on him, but since Mal hadn’t mentioned an equal response, he’d decided to bide his time and see what transpired among the three of them.
“Yes, Your Grace. Your will is as my own.” Durant bowed his head and turned to monitor the flight data. Mal slanted a look his way.
“What would you like to do when we arrive?” his bondmate asked. Edem knew he wanted to question him about why they were doing this, what sort of result he hoped to achieve, but since they’d already discussed those things and many others before leaving their private suite that morning, he didn’t feel the need to respond in detail.
“Beg leave to enter her relief kitchen, then extend our offer of goods for their use.”
“She might object to charity.”
Edem shrugged. “For her own betterment, I’m sure, but judging by her willingness to serve others she’d never allow her sense of pride to interfere with assisting those less fortunate.”
“Perhaps not her sense of pride, but rather her stubbornness might intrude at a crucial moment.” Mal looked out the viewport next to his shoulder as the ship descended with scarcely a sign of decreasing altitude.
“Then we must be diligent not to provoke her.”
With a tiny shudder and whine the craft found its landing, and two of his guards immediately exited and took up positions flanking the entrance. Mal had earlier dispatched observers to the nearby rooftops to monitor for any possible threats, so it was with no worry Edem left the ship and approached the faded metal door underneath a hand painted sign indicating relief awaited within. He fervently hoped relief from his distress was inside, but that was all dependent on Corrine. It was odd that someone he barely knew had such an influence on him. Normally people worked to please him and he rarely had to exert himself, his father notwithstanding.
He heard some of his centurions moving behind him, and Mal appeared at his side, scanning the hot and deserted sidewalk for non-existent threats. An officer opened the door, and Mal preceded him inside to assess the threat level, accompanied by two large young men. With a steadying breath Edem entered the structure and was at once assaulted by multiple impressions. First was how small and low-ceilinged the space was, the second how crowded with narrow tables and mismatched chairs. It was quiet, as
the few humans who’d been eating had frozen in place, their eyes wide as they studied what was likely their first close encounter with an Alphan. Corrine was nowhere in sight.
An elderly man pushed out from behind a swinging door, his brow lowered. “What you all want here? All we got is food and not much of that.”
Edem inclined his head. “Greetings. Please accept our small contributions.”
At his word, several of his guards walked forward, burdened under the weight of numerous provisions he’d instructed Mal to purchase from the hotel restaurant. It was his understanding the manager had been sorely put out to lose his stocks, but it hardly mattered.
The elderly man’s eyes widened as he took in the donation, and he quickly moved the door further open to allow passage.
Edem smiled blandly at those observing him, and a thin young woman clutched her baby tighter to her chest, causing the infant to make an aggrieved cry.
“Shall I go to her?” Mal asked, his gaze fixed on the swinging doors that Edem hoped concealed Corrine.
“Yes. I shall take a seat and partake of the meal offered here.” Edem settled onto what seemed to be the sturdiest chair and smoothed his hands along the tabletop. One of his officers scrambled to an alcove where a bearded man presided over some steaming pots. The Alphan collected several items on a provided tray, all while the human fumbled and dropped spoons, bowls, and plates.
Just as the tray was set before him, there were raised voices from the back of the building, and with a thrill of anticipation, he recognized Mal’s low rumble and Corrine’s lighter but more agitated tones.
“What are you doing here?” Corrine trotted through the doors and came up short when she spotted Edem and his fellows filling the dining room. Mal was right behind her, and when she stopped forward momentum, he pressed against her back. She didn’t seem to notice when his hand circled her waist, and Edem glowed with primal pleasure when he saw his bondmate touching her.
