14. Kaelus
KAELUS
Kaelus had known kissing Clair would be a mistake even before he lowered his mouth to hers. Unfortunately, knowing it was a mistake didn’t make him want it any less.
All night long he had dreamed of her—of her soft, lush body displayed for him, of the sight of her full breasts cupped in her own hands, of the pleasure on her face when she came for him.
Worst of all, he could still remember her taste. That tiny sample of her honey he had sucked from her fingers had haunted him through what little sleep he had managed to get, making him imagine things he had no business imagining and want things he could never have.
He had struggled with himself all night—wanting to roll over and pull her into his arms. At last, by morning he had convinced himself that distance was the only sensible course.
He would be polite, professional, and protective—because he seemed incapable of being anything else where Clair was concerned—but he would not allow himself any further intimacy with her. This he had vowed to himself.
Then Maera ordered his “goddess” to kiss him, and Clair had looked up at him with those wide brown eyes, and every reasonable thought in his head vanished.
“Come here, Lissa’ra,” he growled, slipping an arm around her waist.
He intended the kiss to be brief—a simple brush of lips that would satisfy Maera and allow them to continue their charade.
But the moment Clair’s soft mouth met his, something inside him broke loose.
Her lips parted beneath his almost immediately and Kaelus groaned as he pulled her closer, gathering her against his chest as though she truly belonged there.
Clair melted into him with a soft little sound of pleasure, her arms coming around his neck as she kissed him back eagerly, and the realization that she wanted this too nearly destroyed what little restraint he had left.
Gods, she tasted good! Sweet and warm and feminine, exactly as he had imagined, though there was still the faintest hint of mint from whatever she had used to clean her teeth that morning.
He deepened the kiss without meaning to, angling his head and tasting her more fully, and Clair rose onto her toes as though trying to get even closer.
For one blinding moment, Kaelus forgot everything except the woman in his arms. He forgot they were pretending to be mated.
He forgot she had sworn never to let another male into her life.
He forgot that he was a Hybrid who could never Bond her to him and had no right to begin something he couldn’t finish.
All he knew was that Clair was soft and warm against him, her fingers were sliding into his still-damp hair, and she was kissing him with an enthusiasm that made his entire body respond.
His cock began to harden beneath his trousers, and a fierce possessiveness rose inside him that frightened him with its intensity.
Mine.
The thought came so suddenly and so powerfully that Kaelus jerked away.
Clair swayed toward him for a second, clearly not expecting the kiss to end so abruptly. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were slightly swollen, while her brown eyes looked dazed and unfocused in a way that made Kaelus desperately want to kiss her again. He released her waist.
“There,” he said hoarsely. “The required kiss has been given.”
Clair blinked.
“Right,” she said after a moment. “The, uh, required kiss.”
Something in her expression tightened, and Kaelus hated himself for putting it there.
But what else could he do? If he allowed himself to keep touching and kissing her, he already knew where it would lead—he would become extremely possessive of her and it would be almost impossible for him to let her go when this mission was over.
He had to put a stop to this now before it really got started—whatever this was between them could only end badly.
Maera, apparently oblivious to his internal turmoil, gave a delighted little sigh.
“Much better! You see, Doctor Kaelus? You do know how to show affection to your goddess.”
Kaelus merely grunted.
Clair cleared her throat.
“So…breakfast?” she asked.
“Of course.” Maera smiled. “Come with me. Varell will be waiting.”
She led them from the guest suite and down a softly curving corridor filled with flowering vines that appeared to have been grown directly into the walls.
The house was unlike anything Kaelus had ever seen. Rather than attempting to separate the inhabitants from nature, the Titus Four architecture seemed designed to invite nature inside.
Small streams ran through shallow channels in the floor, crossing beneath translucent bridges that glowed faintly when someone stepped on them, while living plants grew from niches in the walls and opened their blossoms as Maera passed.
Even the ceiling seemed alive—it was formed from overlapping translucent leaves the size of shields, each one filtering the twin morning suns into shifting patterns of blue, violet, and gold.
The dining chamber was even stranger. Three of its walls were completely open to a garden filled with silver-trunked trees and enormous flowers shaped like bells. Tiny jewel-colored creatures with six fluttering wings darted among the blooms, making musical chirping sounds as they fed.
A long, crescent-shaped table curved through the middle of the room, apparently grown from the trunk of a living tree rather than built, and its polished golden surface was warm beneath Kaelus’s fingertips when he touched it.
Instead of ordinary chairs, there were wide cushioned benches covered in thick moss-like growth which shifted and reshaped itself around whoever sat upon it.
Varell was already there.
“My goddess!” he exclaimed when Maera entered, rising immediately from the table.
He crossed the room, took his wife’s hand, and kissed her fingers before pulling out a place for her beside him.
Kaelus glanced at Clair and she glanced at him. He immediately pulled out her seat.
Clair’s mouth twitched.
“Why thank you, sweetheart,” she said sweetly.
“I am learning,” he muttered in her ear as he seated her.
“So I see.” She gave him a playful wink.
Kaelus sat beside her on the moss-covered bench, making certain she was comfortably settled before looking at the breakfast spread. But once he saw it, he almost wished he hadn’t.
In the center of the table sat a large platter containing what he assumed must be the famous goosenburly. Unfortunately, it looked less like breakfast and more like something that had crawled out of a swamp and died in the serving dish.
The main portion was a wobbling mound of greenish-purple substance streaked with bright orange veins. Several pale blue bulbs protruded from the top, opening and closing slowly as though they might still be breathing, and a thin layer of silvery liquid surrounded the entire thing.
Clair stared and Kaelus watched her reaction from the corner of his eye. Her eyes widened fractionally and he knew exactly what she was thinking.
We have to eat that?
Apparently, they did.
Varell rubbed his hands together enthusiastically.
“Ah now—who’s hungry! I hope you enjoy this—it’s my specialty.”
Maera smiled.
“Varell is such a good cook! He always adds just the right amount of ground flellin legs.”
“Er…legs?” Clair asked faintly, looking slightly ill.
“Of course! It gives the goosenburly its characteristic bite,” Varell said proudly.
One of the blue bulbs suddenly popped and began to ooze some strange purple slime.
Clair jumped and her face went almost green.
“Er…what is flellin exactly?” she asked.
“Oh—those little creatures you see flying all around.” Varell gestured to the tiny jewel-colored creatures darting among the blooms, making musical chirping sounds. “They’re an excellent source of protein,” he added. “I add the wings in too, sometimes but Maera says they’re too crispy.”
“I see,” Clair said faintly.
Kaelus shot her a worried look. He knew her aversion to insects.
He had once killed a trillix—a kind of space roach— for her, when it had invaded the lab.
The whole time he was trying to stomp the damn thing, Clair had been standing on a lab stool looking like she might faint with fear and disgust. And now it seemed that part of their breakfast contained the Titus Four version of insect parts.
He doubted this would end well.
Maera began serving. A generous portion landed on Clair’s plate, and she stared at it with wide eyes.
Then another equally generous portion landed on Kaelus’s plate. He poked it with a utensil and the goosenburly twitched—at least he thought it did.
“Is something wrong?” Maera asked. “Why are the two of you not eating? Don’t hurt Varell’s feelings now—he worked on this all morning just for you.”
Clair’s face immediately transformed into a bright smile.
“There’s nothing wrong at all! It smells…very interesting,” she said.
That was technically true, Kaelus thought. The goosenburly smelled like fermented fruit, damp earth, and something vaguely reminiscent of burnt hair.
He looked at his “wife” with concern—was she going to be able to choke it down?
He picked up his eating utensil and Clair did the same. Together, they took a bite.
It tasted like a war crime.
Kaelus had survived combat missions, emergency field medicine, several violent laboratory explosions, and one disastrous diplomatic banquet where the main course had attempted to mate with his boot.
None of those experiences had prepared him for goosenburly.
The texture was simultaneously rubbery and gelatinous, while the taste began sweet, turned violently sour, and then finished with an unexpected burst of heat that made the back of his throat burn.
Beside him, Clair made a tiny choking noise, and he could see her throat convulsing as she forced herself to swallow.
Kaelus forced himself to swallow too, but only because he knew that spitting out the bite he’d taken would offend their hosts. It really was one of the worst things he’d ever put in his mouth.
“Well?” Maera asked eagerly.
Clair smiled. Her eyes were watering.