Braden

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Braden Page 4

by Allyson James


  “She’ll be fine,” Calder said.

  He was right. Judith rarely lacked for sexual company. Judith had been with Calder once, only once. Before he’d met Katarina, Calder had never let a lady be with him a second time. Back then, he’d been scarred, the Beast, not the mellow, healed Shareem sitting before them.

  That is, Calder was somewhat mellowed. He could still be unpredictable.

  Like now. Calder stood, pulling Katarina up beside him, and started to leave without a word.

  Katarina smiled as she looked back. “Nice to meet you, Elisa.” She waved before Calder more or less dragged her out of the bar and into the night.

  “Don’t mind Calder,” Braden said to Elisa. “He was a lab experiment gone wrong. Makes him touchy.”

  Elisa’s brows drew together in that cute, puzzled look. “What does that mean, ‘a lab experiment gone wrong’?”

  “It means he spent an awful lot of time alone,” Braden said, his humor fading. “Way too damn much time, until Katarina came along. I love her for what she’s done for Calder, I truly do. But Calder’s still not much for etiquette. Or crowds.”

  “Speaking of crowds.” Ky wrapped his arm around Brianne again. “Let’s get the fuck out of this one.”

  Ky’s eyes were still blue from that spectacular kiss with Brianne. Ky wanted to go home and fuck, with both Brianne and Aiden.

  Braden didn’t really understand that threesome, but it made them happy so Braden lived with it. Besides, a happy Ky was a hell of a lot easier to put up with than Ky pissed off and lonely.

  There were a few more Shareem-human couples. Rio and Nella lived now on Ariel, a planet much more forward-thinking than Bor Narga, that was for sure. Nella had sneaked Rio off with her, risking arrest, because while Ariel had no problem with Shareem, it was still illegal to take them off Bor Narga.

  Braden guessed the Bor Nargans feared some other planet might propagate a Shareem army or something stupid like that. Bor Narga was ruled by paranoid, frigid bitches. How Brianne managed to be so loving coming from that family, Braden didn’t know.

  Rees and Talan kept to themselves a lot, for which Braden didn’t blame Rees. Talan was gorgeous and willing to experiment with Rees. Research was never so good.

  Rylan and Maia lived in the back of beyond, out in the mountains beyond the sand sea, where Rylan made singing spheres. They hid out there because Maia was Shareem—the only female ever created. Rylan didn’t want to risk her getting caught, and Braden was good with that. DNAmo had given Maia a rough time, and then there was her whole twenty years in suspended animation to get over.

  Eland and Jeanne—they’d met right after DNAmo had fallen, and had been partying together ever since. Fun kids.

  Aiden and Ky left, both with arms around Brianne. Heading home for some satisfying heat. Good luck to them.

  This left Elisa alone with Braden. A damn good situation.

  Elisa trained her brown gaze directly on Braden. “Now that everyone’s gone and we can speak freely,” she began in her soft librarian voice. “Please tell me, Braden—why were you looking up details on cargo transports on my library computer?”

  Chapter Four

  Braden didn’t move. Even his eyes didn’t flicker, but Elisa sensed she’d thrown a question at him on which he hadn’t been instructed how to answer.

  Did he think she hadn’t paid attention? Elisa knew every single thing that went on in her library, who looked up what and when and for how long. Braden had come in there for more than research on his friend’s singing spheres, and she wanted to know what.

  Patron privacy was one thing, but she refused to let her library be a hub for someone else’s schemes. Shareem weren’t supposed to be able to break the law. They were docile, tame, nonviolent. Unable to commit crimes or break rules.

  But she was learning they would bend the hell out of the rules when they wanted to.

  Braden’s shoulder brushed hers as he shrugged. “You pulled up the data for me, remember? It was about singing spheres.”

  True, and the answer worked around the lie.

  Elisa turned her glass on the table. “I had a call last week, from the Ministry of Transport. They told me they’d found indication that someone had accessed a large amount of data on cargo flights, and that the transaction had come from my library’s restricted-access computer. The log showed the activity at midmorning, the day you were there.”

  “I wasn’t there until midafternoon,” Braden said, eyes steady. “So why do you think it was me?”

  “My logs show no one on the restricted computer at the time they stated. And, strangely enough, no one at all at the time you were on it that afternoon. No record of anyone, or any searches.”

  “Huh.” Braden was the picture of innocence. “Isn’t that interesting?”

  “My terminals are all secure. Very little chance that someone hacked their way in from outside the library.” She took a small sip of ale and set the glass back down. “So, I told the woman from the Ministry of Transport that I’d been doing data analysis on trends in Bor Nargan imports and exports. For a class I teach.”

  The innocent look didn’t waver. “You teach?”

  “Once a week. Library systems and information science for the university.”

  Braden slanted her a smile. “I love it when you use big words.”

  “Most people think the class is boring,” Elisa said. “But it’s necessary for the library science degree. I often do arbitrary searches to provide examples for the class.”

  “That’s lucky.”

  “Yes, isn’t it?”

  Braden traced the rim of his ale glass. Elisa knew good and well that he’d accessed the information, and Braden knew she knew. But if he didn’t acknowledge or answer her straight out, he wouldn’t have to lie. Thus not violating his programming.

  Why he’d accessed the information, Elisa couldn’t understand. It seemed a fairly harmless search—she couldn’t see how it endangered the people of Bor Narga or anywhere else. But if the woman from the Ministry knew a Shareem had been digging, then who knew what the Ministry might do? To Braden and to Elisa.

  “I found it interesting that you made certain only my thumbprint provided access to the databases,” Elisa said.

  “Yeah?”

  “And interesting that you wanted to use the only terminal capable of doing in-depth searches into select government agencies.”

  Another smile and a glance that made her blood heat. “Shareem can be very curious.”

  “Also interesting that the time stamp happened when the computer wasn’t in use at all. Only two people used that terminal that day—you and me.”

  “Funny how these things happen,” Braden said.

  “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

  “You want to know what I find interesting?” Braden’s eyes were quiet, calm and filled with something she didn’t understand. “That you didn’t tell the nice lady at the Ministry that a Shareem had been using the terminal that day. At any time. Why not?”

  Elisa gave him an indignant look. “Because what my patrons read or look up is none of anyone else’s business.”

  “But I’m not your usual kind of patron,” Braden said.

  “Yes, you are,” Elisa said, her anger rising. “By the rules, you are. And so I protect your right to information, just as I would for any other patron.”

  Braden went silent. Elisa found herself the full focus of his blue gaze, which locked her in place. She should be afraid of such a large, strong man who could do anything, but she wasn’t afraid. His concentration warmed her, made her feel somehow protected. Cushioned against the world and any bad thing that might happen to her.

  She cleared her throat. “You sent me the singing sphere as a gift because I let you use the terminal.”

  The quiet in Braden’s eyes fled, and his wicked smile blossomed. “No, sweetheart. I sent it to you because I thought you’d like it. Because I wanted to imagine your face when you opened the box.


  His voice wrapped warmth around her. The damp place between her thighs grew even wetter and her nipples tightened against her silk sheath. Braden’s gaze flicked to her breasts and his irises widened, blue filling the white.

  “Damn, I wish I could have been there to see you open the package,” he said.

  Elisa wished he could have been there too. He’d have watched her as intently as he did now, and she’d have gasped in pleasure and flung her arms around him in thanks. She imagined landing against his hard body, right into his strong arms. He’d be warm and protective, and maybe he’d press a kiss to her hair, accepting her thanks.

  As though he read her thoughts, Braden reached out and touched her cheek. The caress was light, feather-soft, but it made her blood sing.

  I should tell him to stop. I should demand to know why he thinks he can put his hands on me without my permission.

  But the touch wasn’t sexual. Was it? Elisa’s mother sometimes touched her face. Close friends did as well, and so did her spiritual advisor. What difference did it make?

  The difference was that Braden was male, he was Shareem, and he made Elisa’s body heat in delicious and forbidden ways.

  His touch made her feel good, not dirty, not wrong—but this was all wrong. He should stop.

  Elisa didn’t want him to stop.

  “Pretty librarian,” Braden said in his dark voice. “I need to ask you a question. Since you’ve already asked so many of me.”

  She supposed that was fair. “Very well.”

  His sensual tone fled as he chuckled. “Very well. Damn, I love how you talk.”

  “How I talk?”

  “Very well. Mustn’t. Library systems and information science. It turns me on, sweetheart.”

  “Why on earth should it?”

  “If you don’t know, I can’t explain.” Braden’s voice became the seductive drawl again. “Tell me, Elisa n’Arell. Why are you celibate? You’re not a cold woman—your body has responded to mine since the moment I met you. So why the hell did you throw away your beautiful sensuality to meditate on rocks? I want to know why, pretty lady.”

  Goddess, he was melting her. She wanted to lay her head on his shoulder and confess, I don’t know. Teach me about what I’ve lost. Please, before I die.

  “It’s an honor to be welcomed into the Way of the Sky,” she said, her standard answer. “Being an official celibate is the highest achievement a woman on Bor Narga can reach.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure.” Braden sensed the lie just as Elisa had sensed his unspoken lie about the library terminal.

  He leaned toward her, his arm across the back of her chair again, the warmth and scent of him so good. “All my secrets are in a database somewhere, for all the world to see. But I can’t look up yours, Elisa, so you have to tell me. Pretend you’re my lady, pretty librarian, and tell your Shareem why you don’t want his touch.”

  * * * * *

  On the opposite side of the hill from Pas City lay a flat plain, and on that lay Bor Narga’s main spaceport. The landing area for shuttles that took passengers up to the liners was far enough from the Serestine Quarter to not bother the highborn with noise, but close enough for their convenience. The freight docks were farther from the passenger terminals, out of sight of the rich in the Serestine Quarter and the nouveau-riche on the lower hill called the Vistara.

  At the spaceport, a stranger stepped off a shuttle that had come down from one of the cheaper passenger liners. He was nearly seven feet tall, had pulled his rich brown hair into a single braid and had blue eyes. He wore a simple tunic and leggings and carried one bag slung over his shoulder.

  Inside the stadium-sized port building, he approached one of the many vendors and bought sun-blocking robes and a breath mask, apparatus he hadn’t needed for twenty-five years. The lush greenery of Sirius III had never seen a sandstorm, although the mountain ranges in the southern hemisphere could get pretty dry. But the part of Sirius where he’d lived had been soft, sweet and quiet.

  “Ident card.”

  A narrow-eyed patroller stopped him. Stun gun at her waist, handheld ready, the tall woman looked pissed off about something. Patrollers always did.

  The stranger took his ident card from his pocket and handed it over. The woman shoved the strip into her handheld, touched the screen and scowled. “Justin? That’s your name?”

  “Ever since they hauled my baby ass out of the vat.”

  “It says here that you were shipped off planet twenty-five years ago.”

  “I know that. No law that a Shareem can’t come back to Bor Narga, is there? I checked.”

  She gave him a suspicious stare. “Why did you come back?”

  Justin shrugged. “I have my reasons.” None of which I’m telling you.

  The patroller punched a few things into her handheld before it spit out the ident card again. “I’m calling this in,” she said, handing the strip to him. “A Shareem returning to Bor Narga on purpose can’t be up to any good.”

  “You just keep on believing that, sweetheart.”

  Justin tucked his ident card into his pocket, swirled his sun-blocking robes over his shoulders and strode away.

  Fucking patrollers. They hadn’t changed a bit.

  Just as Justin stepped out of the spaceport, the sandstorm alert went off. He and everyone else turned around and went right back into the building.

  Heavy steel doors slammed behind them and, a few seconds later, the spaceport shook with screaming wind. Sand hit the doors and the shielded ceiling with hurricane force.

  Justin breathed a sigh as he leaned against a wall to wait it out.

  Home, sweet home.

  * * * * *

  Judith’s bar had mostly emptied before the sandstorm hit, leaving Elisa, Braden and Judith alone. Judith locked down the storm doors and went upstairs to make sure everything was secure up there.

  Elisa watched a tiny wave of sand seep in under the door, but other than that, the building seemed sturdy. She had her breath mask just in case, but a sandstorm could strip the flesh from a person’s body within seconds.

  “Are you sure this place is airtight?” Elisa asked.

  “As airtight as any bar in the slums can be,” Braden said. “Don’t fret, love. Judith keeps her place up to code. She knows people.”

  The wind pounded at the walls and sand slapped at the storm shielding over the tiny windows.

  Braden’s arm still lay across the back of her chair. “Consider this quiet time to answer my question about your celibacy. No one here but us. Judith is giving us space.”

  “It’s personal,” Elisa said.

  “Damn right it’s personal. Tell you what. If you answer a personal question for me, I’ll answer one for you.”

  “One that’s not in a database?”

  He considered. “Sure.”

  Elisa let out her breath and nodded. “Then that sounds equitable.”

  “Equitable.” Braden laughed, the sound grating like the sand. “Oh, baby, I love the way you talk. Do you ever say wherewithal?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “I knew it.” Braden took another swallow of ale and pushed the glass aside. “Now tell me. Why celibacy?”

  Elisa had her pat answer ready. Because I believe in the Way. I believe in ridding the intellect of the anchor of bodily pleasures.

  But for some reason, she wanted to tell Braden, if no one else in her life, the truth.

  “To get out of a bad marriage,” she said.

  Braden blinked. “What? No shit.”

  “No.” She gave him a little smile. “I wasn’t married yet. Engaged. Officially. It was an arranged marriage. I was fine with it, because I wanted to do my duty and provide an heir for the family.”

  It was every highborn woman’s lot to provide an heir to take over the family wealth. Morgan had been the perfect male for the job—right lineage, right social circle, right friends, right everything.

  “So what happened?” Braden asked.

&
nbsp; “He was pleasant enough during the courtship and the contract meetings. Escorted me to society functions, helped my mother, made himself agreeable to my friends. Everyone liked him.”

  “But…”

  Elisa laughed a little. “Once all the contracts were signed he turned into the most self-centered and vainglorious idiot I’d ever met. He didn’t want to do anything with me any longer and became nasty to my friends and family. He was a mean, petty little monster. He was already spending my money on off-world courtesans and in gambling hells. I could have closed my eyes to it and lived a separate life—many married couples do—but I decided I didn’t want to waste my life and my marriage on him.”

  Braden’s look turned approving. “Good for you. What a fuckwad.”

  His anger on her behalf filled Elisa with warmth. Everyone else—her mother and friends, even those Morgan had treated like dirt—had wondered why Elisa had minded. As long as Morgan provided her with an heir, who cared?

  “My mother was furious,” she said. “His parents were furious. His family is pretty powerful, and we’d already signed all the agreements. They threatened to sue me for breach of contract.”

  “So, a fuckwad, son of fuckwads.”

  “After much pondering, I decided to tell everyone the Way of the Sky had called me. I’d chosen to give up marriage altogether to follow the path. Once I declared myself, and a spiritual advisor approved me, I was untouchable. Celibacy is the highest calling for a Bor Nargan woman, and no one dares interfere with it.”

  Braden looked at her with quiet respect. “It was a hell of a decision to make.”

  “Not really. I was a virgin and celibate anyway—my fiancé had no interest in touching me, nor I him. Taking the robes just made it official.”

  “No.” Braden’s eyes saw too much. “It was a sacrifice. It’s in you, Elisa…that need for passion.”

  Elisa sat still, absorbing his words and thinking about what she had denied herself. It hadn’t seemed a sacrifice when she’d taken the robes, a relief, rather. No one could ever use her for her money and family; no man could expect her to support him while he pursued his disgusting sexual games.

  Before she’d met Braden, that’s what sex was—disgusting.

 

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