The Iron Admiral: Deception

by Greta van Der Rol

  At last he entered her, filled her.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “Oh, yes… oh, yes.”

  She raised her knees around his hips and moved with him. Her fingertips traced bunched muscle, slid down his spine and back up to his shoulders. Her mouth sought his as the pressure rose in her body until at last it overflowed, inexorable as a rising tide. “Chaka… oh, Chaka.” She flung back her head and moaned her pleasure.

  He curled his body into her, as deep as he could get, his shoulders tense, lips parted, grunting.

  Spent, he relaxed and trailed tender fingers down the side of her face.

  She moved her head so her lips could brush his fingertips. “You haven’t forgotten how.”

  “I’ve practiced,” he mumbled. “In my dreams. And when things got desperate, there were always the virtual entertainments.”

  “I thought you’d just… you know, get in and get over, fast.”

  “Huh. I’ve waited so long. I didn’t want to waste it. I wanted to know I’d given you pleasure, too.”

  “Oh, you did, you did.”

  He rolled off her and gathered her up against him. “Now then, this is a break between proceedings. The first thing I want to know is, will you marry me?”

  She snuggled against him, warm and familiar, still languorous. “Need you ask?’

  “I was told you would want to be asked. So I’m asking. Please.”

  She gazed at him. No military mask this time; those black eyes demanded an answer. He’d probably be very sure of the reply but he seemed to need to hear it from her.

  “Yes, I’ll marry you. But I’ll need that divorce first.”

  “I know. I’ll keep my promise. And then we’ll be married?”

  He was so earnest, so insistent. “Yes, Chaka. As soon as I’m divorced.”

  He smiled and brushed her lips in a brief kiss. “Now tell me what happened, from where you took it into your head to bolt from Malmos.”

  “Were you angry?”

  He considered the word. “Not angry. More surprised, dismayed that you didn’t talk to me; that you didn’t trust me enough to confide in me. I thought, after Gueri Nestor, that we were friends again. More than anything else I was afraid for you.”

  “I’m sorry. Yes, we were friends… more than that. But there were things I had to finish on my own and I couldn’t see any other way.”

  “Hmm. You put yourself in danger.” A short sigh. “Oh, well. Tell me your story.”

  The telling took a long time, interrupted as it was by urgent physical need.

  ****

  Saahren woke at the beginning of the third shift. As inexorable as sunset and sunrise on a planet, the shifts rotated in space, each heralded by its own tone, transmitted through the ship. Three soft beeps, a pause, three soft beeps… Allysha lay on her side, her back to him, oblivious. He admired the line of her spine, the curve of her hip, her hair cascading over the pillow. He should get up, he knew. His senior officers would be bursting with curiosity. He smiled. Saahren’s died. Died and gone to heaven. Careful not to disturb her, he swung his legs out of the bed and padded to the washroom.

  He came back into the bedroom just in time to watch her stretch. She smiled at him, cat-like, languid.

  He felt himself rising to the occasion and hurried to dress. If once he touched her, he’d never get out of here.

  She sat up, the sheet tucked under her armpits. “You’re probably right. I expect I need a shower myself.

  I’m awash with semen.”

  He laughed as he fastened his jacket. “Are you complaining?”

  “No, no, Admiral, Sir. Not at all.”

  “I have some things to attend to.” He came over and sat on the bed beside her. Surely he could just touch her cheek, smooth that stray strand of hair away. “I shouldn’t be long. While I’m away, better order yourself some clothes for the time being.”

  “Yes, Sir, whatever you say.”

  He leaned across to kiss her; just a taste of her lips, that was all. The sheet fell away when she put her arms around his neck. His mouth found hers while a hand slid of its own volition down over the warm skin of her back. Damn it; he had to get out now or… He pulled away from her and stood, letting his fingers trail across her naked breast. His erection pushed against his trousers.

  “I’m going.”

  He heard her low chuckle as he went through the bedroom door.

  ****

  Saahren ordered kaff and summoned Butcher. While he waited he composed himself. She’d be there when he returned. And he didn’t intend to be away long.

  His clerk brought a pot of kaff, freshly brewed, and poured, filling the office with the aroma.

  Butcher appeared moments later. “Sir.”

  Saahren couldn’t help the grin. Butcher was so obviously trying so very hard not to smile. His eyes twinkled, sparkling with curiosity and speculation. “Have some kaff.” Saahren gestured at the pot.

  “Is she well?” asked Butcher, helping himself to kaff.

  Well? Oh, yes, well… wonderful… beautiful. “Yes, fully recovered.” His eyes strayed to the door to his private quarters. When he looked back, Butcher was grinning.

  He cleared his throat. “Have I missed anything?”What a stupid thing to say. But what dida man say at a time like this?

  Butcher lifted an eyebrow, lips curved, as he took the seat facing the desk. “I don’t think so.” He hesitated. “President McKinley called earlier. He’d like you to call back. At your leisure.”

  “Any idea what he wanted?”

  “He said it wasn’t important, just congratulations on an excellent result. I explained you were busy dealing with a remaining pocket of resistance.”

  “Oh, very good, Butcher. You didn’t even smile when you said that.” He drank some more kaff and the smile faded. “Now then, is everything in place?”

  “Your meeting with Suldan Bentrax is scheduled for eleven hundred ship time tomorrow, at the palace.

  Should I confirm your guests?

  “Do that. Any news of O’Reilly?”

  “Yes, Sir. He has been delivered.” Butcher sent a location to Saahren’s implant.

  “Excellent.” His eyes strayed to the door again. He could beat the stuffing out of him, kill the bastard, and let the Carnessan authorities find his body on the street and she’d never know. So tempting.

  “Other matters?”

  “A few.” Butcher’s lips curved again. “They shouldn’t take long.”

  They didn’t. When he’d finished with Butcher, Saahren talked to President McKinley and then, with a small, grim smile, he went to see O’Reilly.

  ****

  Sean paced.

  They’d put him in a room with a central table and two chairs, all fixed to the floor. Or the deck, he supposed. He was on a warship, that much he knew. And that was all. Nobody would tell him anything.

  He sat down on one of the chairs and passed his tongue over dry lips, wishing he had a drink. At least this was a Confederacy warship, not a GPR one. That was something.

  He’d already told them all he knew, Lena and her friend Hal, back there on Kentor. He’d been happy to help. Tepich, van Tongeren, Horlitz, what happened on Tisyphor. He didn’t owe any of them anything.

  The cell door opened and a uniformed figure stepped inside. His heart jolted. No prizes for guessing who this was. But why washe here?

  “How nice to meet you at last, O’Reilly.” Saahren’s eyes were half closed and his voice was soft as quicksand. “I was sorry I missed you at Allysha’s apartment after the Fleet ball.”

  Sean looked into Saahren’s black, implacable eyes and a cold chill went down his spine. He lifted his hands, palms toward the tall admiral. “Look, I didn’t want her hurt.”

  The other man’s lip curled. “Ah, but did you care if she was? Would you care if she was dead?”

  Sean swallowed. “They didn’t want to kill her. They had some work they wanted her to do, that was all.” He backed away a l
ittle, half a step. Was she dead? He was afraid to ask.

  “No, she’s not dead,” Saahren said, as if he’d seen the question in Sean’s face. “But no thanks to you.

  And everything you did to her you did to save your own miserable ass.”

  He looked Sean up and down. “I can’t for the life of me understand what a woman like Allysha could ever see in a worthless piece of excrement like you.”

  A savage backhander crashed into Sean’s cheek. He slammed against the wall and slid to the ground.

  He sat up slowly, hand to his burning face. Saahren stood over him, legs apart, wriggling the fingers of his

  right hand, as if to loosen them.

  “Get up.”

  Sean struggled warily to his feet, his heart hammering. Saahren’s eyes were cold as space, black and merciless.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that happened to her. They were going to kill me.” He gabbled the words.

  Fast as a snake, Saahren grabbed Sean’s neck in both hands and dragged him onto his toes. “Were they?” His voice was a low growl.

  The pressure on Sean’s neck increased. His Adam’s apple pushed into his throat. He couldn’t breathe.

  His gut contorted as his diaphragm fought to draw air into laboring lungs. He batted at Saahren’s shoulders, trying to shove him away but the hands gripped tighter. His face grew hot; he gasped for air.

  The pressure disappeared. His legs like jelly, Sean bent over, sucking air into his lungs. Panting, he raised his head, one hand on his aching throat.

  Saahren stood silent, his arms at his sides but he seemed rigid, as though he was fighting to keep himself restrained. “Allysha is a little more forgiving than I am.” His lips twisted in a parody of a smile. “She would prefer to be a divorcee rather than a widow. I’ve promised her I won’t kill you, so I won’t. But understand this, O’Reilly. When the divorce papers are put in front of you, you sign without a murmur, understand?”

  Sean swallowed again. If that was all… His throat hurt. He nodded.

  Saahren took a step forward. Sean cringed against the wall.

  “If you so much as blink before your signature is fixed, I’ll consider my promise to Allysha is void.” He leaned forward. “And you know what? I won’t mind one little bit.”

  “I’ll sign,” Sean croaked. The threat hung in the air like a miasma. If he didn’t sign, he’d die and Sean was under no illusion which option Saahren would prefer.

  “Good.” Saahren took a step toward the door.

  “And when I’ve signed?”

  Saahren stopped and turned his head. “I’ll let you go.”

  The door opened and he was gone.

  Sean sank down onto a chair and let out a long breath.

  ChapterThirty-Five

  Saahren rolled over onto his back and gathered Allysha up so her head was on his shoulder. “I missed you.”

  She grinned and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You were only away for an hour. I barely had time to freshen up.”

  “Mm. And now I’ve gone and messed you all up again.”

  Chuckling, she ran a finger down his breast bone. His skin was damp. “Oh, well. I can always have another shower. Will you be going out again?”

  He shook his head. “They’ll have to do without me. But tomorrow, I have a meeting with Suldan Bentrax. You’ll be coming with me.”

  “Oh.” She gave a mental shrug. She supposed that made sense, probably in her capacity as the grand admiral’s ptorix advisor. “Fine.” She kissed him but he didn’t get involved as he usually did. Odd.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “We need to talk, darling.”

  Her nerves jangled. “What about?”

  He shifted his weight. “I’ve captured O’Reilly.”

  Her heart bounced. Sean had made it out of Kentor. “Where is he?”

  “Down there, in the cells.” He pointed at the mattress.

  Here on this ship. “How is he?”

  “Fine. He’s agreed to a divorce.” He said ‘fine’ as though the word tasted nasty in his mouth. So at last, she’d have her divorce. She could move on with her life.

  “That has to happen on Carnessa,” she said.

  “I understand that. Suldan Bentrax has agreed to fast-track the matter.”

  “Bentrax?” Questions buzzed in her brain. “I think you’d better explain.”

  He took a deep breath. “Bentrax has agreed to marry us. So tomorrow, I’ll go and sign the treaty between the Confederacy Government and the Suldanate and then he’ll conduct a ceremony.”

  She sat up and stared down at his face. “Hang on, hang on. I… Don’t I get a say in this? It sounds like it’s all decided.”

  He put an arm around her but didn’t try to pull her down. “Allysha, darling, settle down. Listen.”

  I’m listening.

  “I’ve spoken with Xanthor. He’s delighted that we’re to be married and he’ll be there tomorrow. He asked to make the rings for us.”

  Her jaw hung open. She closed her mouth. “You haven’t told me any of this.”

  He half-smiled. “I couldn’t, could I? I saw Xanthor before the final battle. It was a hypothetical, always assuming everything worked out. This way, your ptorix friends can attend the ceremony.”

  “He’s okay with us getting married?” Yes, that’s what he’d said, but how was that possible?

  “He’s delighted. He told me he knew Jossur wasn’t bombarded.”

  “Oh.” Another mind-numbing about face. Everything she’d believed to be true was crumbling to dust.

  “He’ll be there tomorrow. You’ll have time to talk. I had theghabra and the books brought on board from Malmos. You’ll be able to hand them over.”

  She lay down again, an arm over his body, her mind reeling. Theghabra and the books. She’d forgotten about them. The memories flooded back; the scientist on Tisyphor who had borrowed the ptorix musical instrument and taken a swab which he used to resurrect a killer virus. She’d kept theghabra , the mine manager’s diary and the books she’d found in her Tisyphor apartment, safe in her Malmos apartment until

  she could return home to Shernish. Now, finally, she would be able to give the artifacts to Xanthor. So many things to think about, so many endings.

  “Tell me what’s going to happen.”

  “Bentrax and I sign contracts while you have a private meeting with Xanthor. You and O’Reilly sign the divorce papers in front of witnesses and Bentrax immediately ratifies the action. Then he marries us in accordance with Qerran law. It won’t be the only ceremony; just the first.”

  “What about Vlad and Irina? My team? A dress?”

  He shifted again so he could meet her gaze. “Allysha, this wedding is not just about us.”

  Well, if it wasn’t, what was it about? “Go on.”

  “This is a marriage between Grand Admiral Saahren and a citizen of the Qerran Suldanate.” He waited for her to say something, then sighed. “It’s a political union, witnessed by the Head of State and your ptorix friends. Do you see?”

  “You mean like in ancient history when two warring families would marry off their offspring to stop the fighting?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Huh. A marriage of convenience.”

  He scowled. “That’s not true. Youknow it’s not true.”

  She rolled toward him and kissed him lightly. “Yes, I know it’s not true. I suppose you think about things like that all the time; the big picture.”

  “It goes with the job. The media will love it. It’s a great chance to cement the relationship between Qerra and us.”

  So this would be a public display for everyone else to enjoy. Gee.

  “Allysha?”

  She saw the gleam of concern in his eyes. “I don’t mind being Chaka Saahren’s partner in life. But I thought I might have a moment to get used to the idea of being a grand admiral’s wife.”

  He smiled his relief. “Nothing like on-the-job training.
”

  “I guess I’ll have to get used to it.”

  He settled her in closer to him. “You will.” His hand slid down her naked back, sending her body into anticipatory flutters all over again.

  Except… “Chaka, what do I wear? I don’t have a dress.”

  She’d requisitioned clothes, of course, but they were day-to-day garments, pants and shirts.

  “The green dress is still here.”

  The green dress. The one he’d had made for her without her knowledge. A designer dress, made just for her. It must have hung in the closet all this time.

  He ran a finger down her cheek, under her chin.

  “Surely it’s suitable?”

  She nodded. “Yes, it is.” Oh, the ptorix would love the material. And it looked beautiful on. “Shoes?”

  “Came with the dress.”

  “I love you.” She put her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  ****

  Allysha twirled in the dress. “It really is beautiful.”

  Saahren leaned against the door, arms folded, smiling. “It is.”

  He opened a drawer and took out a long, flat box. “And you’d better wear these.”

  She’d sent that box back to him a few months before. She took the earrings out and put them on her ears but handed the necklace to him.

  “Here, you fasten this.”

  He hung the necklace around her neck and fastened the clasp under her hair. The altari stones flashed against her skin, vibrant and alive. Saahren, magnificent in his white dress uniform, smiled at her in the mirror and kissed her shoulder, sending a shiver through her body. She leaned back against him. She couldn’t get enough of him. She wondered, not for the first time, why she’d been so stubborn. His arms wrapped around her waist, his lips slipped to her throat. She breathed in his scent, male and familiar. He released her suddenly and stepped away, clearing his throat.