The Magran Senator, Hognan, continued to liaise with her for their requirements and she derived great satisfaction from tending to the needs of the rescued. They voted Rod spokesman for the group and she replied in cryptic to T’Hargen’s inability to understand why a cup made from cake would be useful. He and Kat let her down immensely when they disappeared off into the woods to investigate the viability of a nearby cave system, taking her spectator sport with them. She transferred her romantic observations to Rod who was doing his level best to the charm the dickens out of a lovely Gailling lady. Even Kendril seemed to be considering, with that detached way of hers, the advances of Dave whose broken leg had nearly mended.
She missed Eugen terribly.
Bit by bit, her group lost that hunted, despairing look. Conversations focused on the immediate future; the prospects of fishing the lake, extending farm lands.
She knew she could leave them now.
“No!”
Sandrea blinked at Eugen’s emphatic denial. Even through the closed door of the runabout she and Kendril had travelled to Mrilala in, the aggression in his tone came loud and clear.
Someone is going to get their head bitten off if they don’t back down.
The pilot’s voice over the comm advised all was secure, and she rose from the cushioned couch in a rush. Anticipation burned in her veins. Her fingers drummed on her thighs as the cabin door slowly opened. Eugen stood tall, strong, and achingly hers at the foot of the extended ramp.
She flew into his arms, wrapped herself around him, and hugged him tight. The fervour of his embrace delighted her hunger, and then he pushed a finger under her chin and tilted her face to his. A frown crowded his brow.
“What have you been doing?” he demanded.
She lifted her eyebrows. “I thought you’d be pleased to see me.”
“I am not pleased to see you close to exhaustion.”
She shrugged. “There was a lot to do.”
“I knew your time had been fully engaged, but this . . .” His green-eyed regard darkened. “There will be no more work for you until you are well.”
“Yes, General. Do I get a kiss?”
He leaned close and growled, “Not here, you don’t.”
The sensitive hairs on her ear and neck quivered to the warm brush of his breath and the dark temptation of his voice. She landed a quick peck on his cheek, then turned back toward the craft and whistled.
“Dexter!”
“I think he’s still on that rug,” Kendril said.
She shook her head and turned to Eugen.
“He’s fallen in love with a throw. I have to admit it is lovely and soft, but he squirms around on it like— Never mind.”
“I’ll get him,” Kendril volunteered, but Dexter appeared at the top of the ramp, head high, sniffing the air.
He let out a short bark, scuttled toward them, then ran up Eugen’s body and bunted him just below the jaw.
“Guess he missed you, too,” she said.
“So it would seem.” The smile threading Eugen’s agreement delighted her. “Thank you, Corporal, that will be all. Alpha is on R and R until further notice.”
“Thank you, General.” Kendril saluted then turned to her. “Ambassador.”
Sandrea pursed her lips in mild exasperation as she watched Kendril depart. “She knows I hate her addressing me that way, the wretch.”
“Protocol demands—”
“Yeah, yeah. I know, I know.”
Eugen braced an arm around her back and she settled into his side as they turned toward the exit. His warmth spread through her body, kindling embers of passion.
“We have quarters here on the base,” he informed her as they crossed the hanger floor. “And General Tomgani is hosting a celebratory dinner in your honour tomorrow evening.”
A rush of dread cooled her ardour. “Me? What did I do to deserve that?”
“Apart from saving our planet from the Council’s ill-advised orders and urging a strike into Bluthen space that not only procured the Alliance more territory, but also seriously hindered our enemy’s abominable experiments into human/machine biosync operations? Experiments that could have seen the Bluthen gain significant advantage against the Alliance?”
“Well, yeah, apart from that.”
Eugen shrugged. “Nothing.”
She laughed and squeezed him.
An unknown voice gatecrashed their private world. “On that note, General . . .” Beneath her arm, Eugen’s back tensed and she swore a snarl rumbled in his chest. He turned to a Legolopanth loitering just behind them. Vague memory placed him somewhere in the vicinity when she’d disembarked from the runabout.
“You already have my decision, Commander.” Eugen’s icy tone widened her eyes. “Do not tempt my patience again.”
The officer swallowed, nodded once, and took a step back. Hell, she admired him for not running screaming in the opposite direction.
“What was that about?”
Eugen slid his hand to her lower back and steered her into a turbo-tunnel lobby. He selected a destination on the map and offered a vague-ish sort of smile. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
Concern zapped along her nerves. “Eugen? You’re not about to be shipped out, are you?”
In the privacy of the vestibule, he drew her close. “No, my love.”
“Then what was that about?”
His chin lifted as he pulled in a breath and still he prevaricated.
“You want me to go and ask him?” She nodded back toward the hangar.
The doors opened to a car and he ushered her in.
“The research department wants your help with the biosync. According to their findings only humans are compatible.”
Christ, is that all?
“Of course.”
“No,” he ground out. “You are not well. I was not willing to share you before I discovered how overwork has drained you. Now . . . I will not permit it.”
Aw, you’re so cute.
“I didn’t mean now, Eugen, I’ve got plans for now. Plans that involve you, me, complete privacy, and a complete lack of clothing.”
“Ah, this, I am willing to discuss.”
She tapped a finger on his nose and swayed her body into his with languid provocation. “There’s not going to be much talk, Eugen. Bit of moaning, I suspect, if all goes to plan, but not much talk. Besides, the biosync operation is on my list of things to speak to you about. Rod’s keen to offer his services, and Dave’s, and you know you can count on me.”
“Yes, Sandrea, I do know I can count on you.”
“Good. I’m curious about one thing, though. How come the Bluthen didn’t have that laboratory armed and guarded to the teeth?”
“Warships patrolling a sector would have drawn Alliance interest. It was a risky strategy of the Bluthen to avoid detection and one that very nearly succeeded.”
“I think T’Hargen was getting close to discovering them.” She shuddered. “I’m glad he didn’t. I like your brother.”
“He likes you, too.”
The barbaric implications of the lab troubled her and she sought his insight. “They were going to use humans as disposable soldiers, weren’t they?”
Eugen’s hand tightened on her hip. “Yes.”
Grim satisfaction welled within her. “Well, they screwed the pooch with that idea.”
A rough gurgle emanated from Eugen. “I am beginning to understand Sergeant Kulluk’s fascination with your Earthen profanities.”
She lifted a hand to his chest, delighting in the firm, heated swell of dense muscle.
“I have twelve days of not telling you how much I love you to catch up on,” she murmured.
Eugen pulled her close and presse
d his lips to hers. The tender beauty of his kiss stole her breath and she nestled closer, sealing her body to his and glorying in the richness of their love.
“Come, my heart,” he urged.
She opened her eyes. “Hmm?”
“We have arrived at our lodgings.”
“Oh.”
She followed him from the car, down a short corridor, and into a suite of rooms.
“Dexter”—she plucked him from Eugen’s shoulder and placed him on the floor—“make yourself comfortable somewhere other than the bed.”
He gave her a reproachful look. “Yes, yes. I promise to get you a rug like the one in the runabout. Now shoo.”
She turned to Eugen, her eager hands attacking his clothing.
“If you want this to happen in a bed, I suggest you show the way now.”
Her spirit soared as she managed to part the opening of his shirt and caress the now supple skin of his chest. Sparks of pleasure danced across her fingers and palms, while bright emotion swelled in her breast.
Eugen drew a ragged breath and captured her hands in his, stilling their advance down his body and bringing them to his lips. His intense, green gaze held her enchanted as he backed her through a doorway. Her calves bumped into something solid.
“Kiss me,” she demanded.
He lowered her hands and pressed them to the small of her back. His fingers roped her wrists to one large hand and held them captive. He tilted his head to her upturned face and brushed his lips over her forehead, then down her cheek.
Impatience twisted through her at his leisurely torment. “Eugen, I want you inside me.”
A shudder rippled through his big body. He lifted a hand and traced the path of her jaw with a knuckle.
“I want that, too, my love, but not at the expense of your health.”
What?
He bent and drew back the covers of the bed.
“In you get,” he ordered.
Confusion rippled her brow. “You’re not going to undress me?”
He released her and took a step back. “It will be my pleasure to allot that task to you.”
A strip tease? I can do that. It will be the quickest in history though.
She ripped off her clothing with inelegant haste. Eugen’s rapid breathing spurred excitement through her blood and she lifted her arms towards him in invitation. Aching need for his touch flooded her breasts. He remained where he was, seemingly frozen to the spot. His hot gaze roved her body, pinpricks of pleasure skittering over her skin and striking a throbbing chord deep within her pelvis.
“Eugen, why are you still dressed?”
She yearned to trace the golden swell of his cranial ridges, to hear the moan her caress would bring forth.
“Get into bed, my dearest.”
Something in his strangled voice, his reticent body language . . . An unpleasant suspicion filled her mind. She clamped her hands on her hips.
“You’re not going to make love to me?”
“I am making love you, dear heart. I am caring for you. You’ve exhausted yourself with these new responsibilities. Those dark smudges beneath your eyes tell me so.”
I see.
“Well, what about good old-fashioned sex then. Can we have that?”
“Of course, when we reach our home in the mountains and you are rested.”
“And when will that be?”
“We will leave immediately after the celebratory dinner.”
Wry defeat pressed her lips together. “You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?”
“I will stand firm in my position, yes.”
She took a step towards him, ran a hand up the clenched hardness of his thigh, and teased her fingers over the rigid length of his trouser-crowding erection. A half-hiss, half-moan whispered between his teeth.
“If I could get you out of this clothing, I think you would be standing extremely firm.”
He snatched her hand from his body and pressed a kiss to her palm.
“Well you can at least join me in the bed,” she encouraged.
He laughed. “No, my love. I know my weaknesses. You will rub that delectable body against mine and all my resolve will vanish in a heartbeat.”
Damn, he saw straight through her.
“I’ll never be able to sleep, you know.”
“Get into bed, my heart.”
Eugen retreated under her glower. Five minutes later when he checked she was fast asleep, with Dexter curled up on the pillow beside her head.
Bells were ringing.
Are you listening? In the lane, snow is . . . what?
Sandrea struggled to make sense of her world. Consciousness strengthened. Bed, she was in bed. Her roaming palm collected the faint warmth of a recent occupant. So Eugen had joined her after all. Good Lord! She must have been exhausted not to notice his presence.
A knock echoed through the silent quarters. Chimes peeled again.
“I’m going to have those disconnected,” she muttered and disentangled her body from the sheets. She shrugged into a robe and tied the sash.
“Eugen?”
A loud rap and more chime peels came from the door.
“Eugen?”
Her jaw cracked to a huge yawn as she made her way through the apparently vacant rooms. She touched the door open and peered through bleary eyes.
“Where’s the fire?” she muttered at Dovzshak.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Ambassador, but you did say to call if . . .” He trailed off.
She pulled in a deep breath that morphed into another yawn.
“If you persist in calling me Ambassador when we’re not in public, Dov’, I’m going to brain you. Now what’s the problem?”
“Yes, Am— Sandrea. It’s the laraxdon. He keeps dropping things at my feet and tearing around the quarters.”
She frowned and tried to force her thoughts into a more rapid response time. Eugen billeted the laraxdon with Alpha? The devil! Looks like the qualifications for becoming a member of that elite squad just had another criterion added.
The creases of dismay pleating Dovzshak’s face and the worry that practically dripped from his eyes tugged at her soft side. She leaned her not-quite-awake yet body against the doorway.
“Okay, my friend, first of all your laraxdon is a she, not a he. You really must name her. Dropping things at your feet is most likely an invitation to play fetch. As for tearing around, how long have you been exercising her for?”
“Exercise?” A weak quaver wobbled most un-soldier-like through his tone.
Oh, dear.
“Yes, exercise. No wonder she’s hyper. I imagine from whatever part of the Galaxy these laraxdon hail from, they’re working animals. She’ll need lots of exercise and mental stimulation. I’d start enjoying running if I were you.” She pressed her lips press together in consideration. “We’ll have to get you a ball and thrower, think up an obstacle course, maybe some flyball.”
Waves of bewilderment flowed from Dovzshak. He lifted a fist and scrubbed it across his brow.
“Could you . . .?”
A plea she couldn’t ignore.
“Alright, I’ll be with you in a moment.” She took a step back into the cabin. “Come in while I get dressed.”
His face congealed into something resembling terrified scandal. “General Mhartak would have me skinned.”
Really? Whadda ya know? “Well, I wouldn’t want that. Give me ten minutes.” She turned and walked toward the bedroom, throwing over her shoulder, “If you’ve got a mug of tea waiting for me, I’ll have you promoted to Corporal.”
Within the set time, she returned, Dexter a warm weight on her shoulder, to find Dovzshak pacing restively in the corridor, a
thermal mug in one hand.
“You recall what I said to you about abused animals?” she asked, accepting his beverage offering with a smile.
He nodded.
“Well she’s just trying to bond with you. It’ll be alright, Dov’, honest. I’m guessing these laraxdon are much like canines and can sense an animal lover. You tend to her needs, and you’ll have a friend for the rest of her life.”
“But you’re an animal lover. Why didn’t she pick you?”
She shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe Dexter had something to do with it.”
Outside Alpha’s quarters Dovzshak . . . dithered. It looked odd on such a big man. From inside the quarters came the sounds of demolition.
“I think you’d better open the door, Dov’.”
He didn’t appear convinced of the merits of that idea. She reached out, touched the door open, then ducked, keeping her tea upright, as the laraxdon hurtled past. The beast slammed into Dovzshak and levelled him in the corridor.
Sandrea stuck her head through the open doorway. Hmm. Oh Lord, I hope that isn’t Kulluk’s favourite vest. She turned and addressed the laraxdon.
“Right, madam, I think we need to establish a few rules for acceptable behaviour. And let me tell you right now”—she waved her free hand toward the cabin—“this is not one of them. These quarters are a disaster. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
The laraxdon smiled at her, tongue lolling out over one side of her jaw, her feet placed firmly on Dovzshak’s chest.
“Don’t let her do that, Dov’.”
“What?”
“Stand on you. You have to remain the dominant one otherwise you’re in for all sorts of grief. Get up.”
Alien, Mine Page 31
