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Authors: Robin L. Rotham

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BOOK: Amorous Overnight
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He bowed again. “Thank you very much. It’s been…enlightening.”

“Ha-ha,” she said acidly.

“I meant that quite sincerely. I learned a great deal today. Perhaps another day you’ll be kind enough to teach me about yoga.”

“Oh. Well…”
Not with this body. Not in this lifetime.
“…we’ll see.”

“Of course.”

After he walked out, she uncrossed her legs and flopped onto her stomach, pressing her hot face against the pad.

“Holy shit,” she whispered. How in the world had she ever thought the minister cold and soulless? He was… God, were there even words for what he was?

A laugh bubbled out of her and she rolled to her back. There was a word—unpredictable.

Her smile faded as she recalled his exact words.
An element of unpredictability can have its tactical advantages in interpersonal relations.

Had he been talking about himself rather than women? Were the flirty comments and the ogling just elements of unpredictability he was employing to keep her off-balance?

But why would he do that? It didn’t make sense.

She rolled to her feet and began her morning routine. Assuming Mountain Pose, she brought her arms overhead and stretched toward the ceiling, then reached over to the left and then the right, focusing on her breathing. God, Mark’s lies and manipulations had really screwed with her head if she was so determined to question the motives of someone who’d done nothing but help her. Not all men were like Mark, and it was time she stopped acting like they were. The minister had been up-front about wanting her to fill the nursing opening on Garathan, and he’d been equally up-front about his desire to learn about meditation—obviously it just wasn’t for him. And even if he
was
flirting with her a little, it didn’t mean anything—some men would flirt with anything with boobs. It
couldn’t
mean anything, even if she wanted it to.

Which she didn’t. Much.

Straightening, Shelley stepped back with her left foot and sank down into Warrior One, looking up as she reached above her with both arms. She needed to just accept Minister Cecine at face value until he gave her a reason not to, or she’d wind up totally paranoid.

Chapter Eight

Three weeks later, Shelley slept right through their crack-of-dawn departure and didn’t even realize it until she showed up for breakfast. The large flare screen behind Minister Cecine looked like something straight out of an H. G. Wells flick—from their current vantage point, the moon appeared larger than the Earth.

It was a jarring sight.

“Wow, we’re really…gone,” she said faintly, clutching the edge of the table and trying not to tear up. Unlike Jasmine and Monica, she was leaving behind loved ones, and she still couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d never see them again.

One more dragon to ride.
She
would
see them again, and she’d have a thousand fascinating tales to tell when she did.

“Be at ease, Ms. Bonham,” the minister said. “You have my personal guarantee that you will see your family again next year.”

Startled, she stared at him. “No one told me the Garathani were mind readers too.”

“No mind reading was required,” he informed her, his lovely lips curving in a way that made her heart skip a couple of beats. “Your face is very expressive.”

Despite her best efforts to contain it, a blush began to work its way up her neck. Dammit, ever since their aborted meditation lesson—well, since the night before that, really—she’d fantasized about him and Hastion together constantly, and her own hand had become extremely unsatisfying. She’d never needed to get laid so badly in her life.

Talk about shit timing.

She glanced at Hastion, who was plucking chunks of fruit directly from the tray in front of him and eating them with his fingers, but his face was unreadable. He seemed different since she’d seen him that night—a little more reserved, a little less prone to smile, though just as nice to her and the twins. It was starting to worry her. Those were
not
the signs of the happy relationship she’d been looking for. In fact, she’d seen nothing from either of them to indicate there might be anything sexual, or even personal, between them. Had it just been a one-time thing to blow off some steam…or something darker?

“Shelley, you’re on the adventure of a lifetime,” Monica said. “Suck it up and make up your mind to have fun!”

Jasmine rubbed Shelley’s back. “It’s okay, Shelley, I’m a little sad too. And it’s kind of scary knowing we’ll be a million miles from nowhere if something goes wrong.”

Shelley dropped the crust of her English muffin. “Thanks, Jasmine, that makes me feel much better.”

“Actually,” Tiber said as he dipped the fingers he’d been eating with in his water bowl, “with all its redundant protection systems, this ship is safer than anyplace you could be on Earth.”

“See? Relax, you two.” Monica turned to her father eagerly. “So how soon can you engage the flare drives?”

“It will be at least three days before we make our first flare jump,” Cecine replied, tearing a piece of toast into pieces and dipping it in the little bowl of jelly he indulged in most mornings. Shelley had tried it once and didn’t see the attraction. It tasted like hot salted prunes. And semen. Why did all the Garathani food and drink have to taste like semen?

“That long?”

Chewing slowly, he smiled at Monica’s crestfallen expression. “Yes, that long. And as slow as our travel seems now, it’s nothing compared to how slow it will seem once we’re well away from the solar system. When you traverse deep space under conventional propulsion, it feels as though you’re not moving at all because your perspective on distant stars doesn’t change perceptibly.”

Monica sighed. “Well that’s going to be boring.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, my daughter, but interstellar travel isn’t a sport for the terminally impatient.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Now he tells me.”

“On the bright side, once we’re clear of major gravitational influences, your mates will have considerably more free time. I suspect we may not see much of you for the next three days,” he added.

To Shelley’s amusement, the unshockable Monica blushed. “Father!”

“Once we reach Garathan,” he continued, “all crew members will take six weeks’ leave in staggered shifts while the
Heptoral
is refitted.”

And then Monica and Jasmine would both return to Earth with the ship to recruit another batch of candidates. It was a daunting thought. Alone on an alien planet—well, not alone, exactly, but not surrounded by friends and loved ones… Who would she hang out with and talk to when she wasn’t working?

She rolled her eyes.
Your kids, single mother. Welcome to the next eighteen years of your life.

“Time for the fifty-million-mile oil change, lube and tire rotation?” Monica asked.

Cecine’s grin mirrored hers. “Precisely. It’s unfortunate your brothers are on Aptorm for several more months. I think Arak and Jax will enjoy you a great deal.”

“Do they know about me?”

“Certainly they know about you. I’ve sent them several hours of video messages describing you in great detail.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Are they scared?”

“They’re…intrigued.” He stood up. “And now if you ladies will excuse me, I must prepare for this morning’s council session.”

“Better you than me,” Monica said.

“Have a nice day, sir,” Jasmine piped up before the door closed behind him.

Hastion jumped to his feet. “Please excuse me,” he said through clenched teeth as he followed the minister into their quarters.

Frowning, Shelley took a pensive sip from her cup.

“Wonder what’s up his butt lately,” Monica murmured.

Shelley choked and tea dribbled out of her nostrils.

Pounding her back, Jasmine said, “Whoa, are you okay?”

Shelley nodded, holding up one hand to halt her as the other covered her mouth and nose. “Wrong pipe,” she wheezed, coughing hard. “Napkin?”

“Been there,” Jasmine said, handing her a paper napkin from the dispenser Monica had somehow acquired while she continued to cough and clear her throat. Holy shit, Monica had an uncanny knack for finding truths without even looking for them. She must have been a whiz at Pin the Tail on the Donkey.

When the spasms finally eased and she’d blown all the residual tea out of her nose, Monica gave her a penetrating look. “All right, let’s have it.”

Shelley looked away, feeling torn. She hadn’t intended to say anything about what she’d seen that night, and not just because she didn’t want to explain what she was doing in the minister’s quarters. What happened between him and Hastion was nobody’s business but their own.

On the other hand, Monica was right—Hastion’s tenseness after all this time seemed out of proportion to the embarrassment he must have felt at literally being caught with his pants down, and she wondered, not for the first time, if Hastion had accepted the minister’s attentions not because he wanted to but because he had to. Even before he noticed her that night, he’d seemed pale and upset.

What if he had to yield to Cecine because of his rank or something? The possibility of sex between Garathani males was such a recent development, there were probably no laws to protect weaker males from the stronger ones. What if, like Earth, Garathan had a history of allowing its leaders to compel the sexual compliance of their subordinates and Hastion had just been the minister’s unlucky pick that night?

“Oh, now you really have to spill it,” Monica said with narrowed eyes. “What’s going on with Hastion?”

Shit! What was she supposed to say?
Sorry, Monica, but your father might be fucking Hastion against his will.

Yeah, that would go over well. And surely it couldn’t be true. The minister had been wonderful to her and her family. And he’d arranged for Jasmine and Shauss to be together. And he adored Monica. Hell, he even seemed to adore the twins. Surely a man who adored babies couldn’t do something so awful.

But as much as she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, it
was
possible Minister Cecine was using his power to abuse sweet, beautiful Hastion. She had a responsibility to say something,
do
something, to ensure he wasn’t.

Shelley licked her lips nervously. “A couple of weeks ago I went to your father’s quarters to thank him for helping my family, and while we were sitting there, Hastion came out of the hallway.”

Monica looked at her blankly. “And?”

“And he was…” she licked her lips again, “…just pulling up his uniform. He had nothing on underneath and his
whole package
was on display because his zipper was apparently stuck. And all your father had on when he came out was pajama bottoms. He’d just gotten out of the shower and was pulling on a shirt.”

Jasmine and Monica looked at each other and then Jasmine said, “Shelley, Hastion moved into the minister’s suite when he joined his guard. They’re basically roommates.”

Shelley blew out an impatient breath. “The minister didn’t even look at him when he said, ‘I believe I told you not to move, Ensign.’” Her tone dropped in a fair impression of what she’d heard. “There was definitely a postcoital vibe going on there.”

Monica’s lips moved silently.
Oh my fucking God.

“That’s exactly what I said.”
Right before I gave myself several orgasms fantasizing about it.

God, she hoped the sex between them had been consensual or she’d feel really bad about that.

“Well shit. Hastion would have been perfect for the male-male mating demonstration I’ve been pushing for, but my father…?” Monica shuddered.

“The thing is,” Shelley forged ahead, “Hastion seemed very upset and shaken.
Very
upset. And
shaken
.”

Jasmine gasped and leaned toward her. “Oh my Lord,” she whispered, “you think Minister Cecine raped my brother?”

Monica scowled. “No. Fucking. Way.”

“That’s not what I
think
,” Shelley said carefully. “And I really don’t want to believe he’d do something like that. He’s been totally awesome to me and the twins. It’s just…Hastion is such a nice, easy-going guy and always so ready to help, I’m afraid he might have trouble saying no even if he wanted to.”

Jasmine looked troubled. “Shauss does think he’s very submissive—maybe even more than I am.”

“And my father is arguably the most dominant male in the galaxy,” Monica said. “It could be a match made in heaven.”

“If they’re both on the same page,” Jasmine qualified.

“Why wouldn’t they be? Have you ever seen my father force someone to do something they don’t want to?”

Jasmine sent her an arch look and Monica scowled again. “That was different. He thought you were in cahoots with Pret. He wouldn’t have let Shauss rape you.”

“Bull. He would have let every male on this ship rape me if it was the only way to get you back. And remember when they found out I was Narthani, or thought I was? He told Shauss to do whatever he wanted with me and then dispose of me however he saw fit.”

Shelley’s eyes widened. “You never told me that!”

BOOK: Amorous Overnight
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