Chapter Twelve
“Hold on,” Michaela said.
Ruyn heard rustling, and then moments later, her data tab lit up. It didn’t throw a lot of light, but it was enough. “We can see to eat,” he said. “You’ll need to turn off the device before the storm hits.”
“I know. I will.”
“Let’s sit; it’s going to be a while.” After handing her the food, he eased to a sitting position. He stretched his legs out and took the boxes from her.
She plopped down next to him. “How long do you think it will be before the booster starts running?”
“They’ll ensure the danger from the storm is over before they power anything up. We have about three hours until the solar storm hits?”
“A little less.”
“The storm could last anywhere from fifteen minutes to four or five hours. So, we could be here four hours or eight.”
“Eight hours? We could be stuck overnight?”
“Potentially. Could be less.” The worst solar storm on record bombarded the planet for ten hours, but that was way before his time. Before his parents’ time. However, old-timers still reminisced about the Great Solar Storm. “Here.” He handed her a box.
“At least we have food. And the company is good.” She grinned.
“The company is excellent.” He smiled back, not the least bit upset at the prospect of several hours of uninterrupted time with her.
The data tab light flattered her already-pretty features, making her gaze seem softer, her full mouth fuller, her creamy skin smoother. Tendrils of soft, flyway hair framing her cheeks tempted him to brush it away.
He was getting hard again.
As usual, the meal tasted delicious. Besides the food, Mama had included water and an alcoholic beverage. To weaken his defenses? He wouldn’t put it past her. She never missed a beat, always thinking two steps ahead. It had made her a fearsome defense minister—and a formidable matchmaker.
“I guess we needed silverware after all,” Michaela commented.
“Don’t tell Mama. She’s too sure of herself as it is. It will only give her more ammunition.”
Mama could try to pair them up, but they were two comets on different trajectories. While their orbits had intersected for a moment in time, they were destined to diverge. He would settle into some kind of gainful occupation on Luturna, and she would follow her dreams back to Earth.
“Does sitting on the floor bother you?” she asked.
“Not yet.” Would it bother her to be saddled with a man who limped? Who could never be what he had once been?
They ate in silence for a few minutes.
“I’m not leaving Luturna until I figure out what’s going on,” she said out of the blue.
“What if you don’t figure it out before your term ends?”
“I’ll stay until I do—or I’m confident you’re safe and nobody is coming for you. I have an investment in you.”
Was it wrong to hope it took her a long, long time? “And what if you figure it out tomorrow?”
“That would be an amazing feat!” She chuckled. “If I solve the mystery before my stint is up, I’d still stay the full term.”
Five-and-a-half months didn’t seem long enough. She liked him—he knew that, but he was also aware of her true motivation for staying. “Of course. You still want to get your full salary for your future investigations firm.”
“For you. I made a commitment.”
“Your commitment is to GAL Friday.”
She stopped eating. “That sounds like you would like me to leave sooner.”
“No, no, not at all. I like working with you.” He’d given her the wrong idea.
“Good, because I like being with you, too.”
Being? Not working but being. His heart skipped a beat at her choice of words. Still, the money had to be an influencing factor. He recalled the financials. “Most agencies don’t pay as well as GAL Friday,” he commented. None, actually. Not for her kind of work.
“I wouldn’t know. It’s the only temp agency I’ve worked with.”
If he had any idea how much Korsan had agreed to pay GAL Friday for bodyguard services when Michaela first came aboard, he would have fought to the ends of the universe to fire her.
He would have quit before he allowed his brother to pay such an exorbitant fee for any service, let alone one he hadn’t wanted.
Now, he’d pay any amount to keep her. But those were feelings talking, not his business head. A top-notch investigator, she was more thorough and perceptive than the authorities had been. However, objectively, the best investigator in the entire galaxy wouldn’t be worth GAL Friday’s fees.
Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face because she asked, “You don’t think I deserve what I’m paid?”
I shouldn’t have said anything. “To me you do.”
GAL Friday’s fee wasn’t the only outrageous expense, but it was the only one he felt responsible for. She’d been hired because of him. If his brother continued on the same path, overpaying for services, he could go bankrupt.
No maybe, he would. It was inevitable. The company’s outgo exceeded its inflow.
“I don’t think 10,000 credits per month is too much!” She scowled.
“It’s a little more than that,” he said. Why did I open my mouth?
“Okay—13,000. I get 10K, and GAL Friday gets a 30 percent commission, so 13,000 credits total.”
He went still. “That’s what you receive—10K?”
“Yes.” She looked hurt.
“GAL Friday bills 40,000 credits per month.”
Her jaw dropped. She shook her head. “No. That’s not right. That’s crazy. Nobody would pay that much. GAL Friday wouldn’t charge that. It’s like a 300 percent commission! That’s like what a loan shark would charge. GAL Friday is a reputable company.”
“According to the financials, Korsan Enterprises pays GAL Friday 40K per month.”
“That has to be an accounting error. Someone inputted a wrong number. The agency wouldn’t price-gouge like that.”
The implications knocking around in his brain propelled him to his feet.
Korsan wasn’t detail-oriented; numbers bored him.
A “big picture” guy, a visionary, he left the details to the experts he hired.
Ruyn wanted to believe his brother had learned from his mistakes and had a handle on business, but the data suggested otherwise.
Michaela’s salary wasn’t the only anomaly, and the concerns he’d previously raised had been brushed aside.
She set down her dinner box. “If I made that kind of money, I could have opened my own agency a long time ago.” Her lips twisted ruefully. “No wonder you thought I was overpaid.”
“You are…priceless. I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m sorry.” The air seemed to electrify. Heat spread up into his neck.
“It’s all right. I understand now. Much as I’d love to earn that much, when I open my agency, I won’t be paying my investigators any 40K per month. I’ll earn far less than I’m earning now.”
There it was—the reminder of her inevitable departure. “I’m going to miss you.” The admission slipped from his lips. Some thoughts were better kept to oneself. Voicing his feelings would make her uncomfortable and their interactions awkward during the time they had left.
“I’m going to miss you, too,” she replied. What else could she say?
“You’ll have other clients.”
“Not badass alien bosses like you.”
“I’m not such a badass.” Not anymore. “And you’ll be your own boss.”
“With the client calling the shots.”
“Well, then, this client suggests we finish our dinner before we need to turn out the light.” Eating might redirect them to safer topics. He sat down again and took a long swig of the alcoholic beverage Mama had provided.
His skin tingled with awareness of Michaela’s proximity, the tight space enclosing them in a disturbing aura of intimacy that could loosen his tongue.
He feared what he might reveal to her. He eyed the drink in his hand.
The last thing he needed was alcohol. He took another pull and finished off the bottle.
“Mama’s quite a character,” Michaela said.
“She is.”
“She likes you a lot.”
“She likes you, too.” As do I. A lot. Too much.
“I guess if we’re stuck here all night, it can’t be any worse than the bed in the apartment. It’s as hard as a slab of stone.”
Bed. The single word ignited his smoldering libido. “Yours, too?” He faked a chuckle.
“There’s no give to it,” she complained.
“None,” he agreed.
Fantasies of curling up together in their uncomfortable bed flooded his brain. Bodies moving, perspiring. Gasps. Groans. Delicious tension leading to sweet ecstasy. Fully erect and aching, he raised a leg to block her view of his tented pants.
They finished their meal while making small talk.
It was the kind of meaningless conversation one forgot moments after it occurred—but he would always remember how her light, feminine scent filled his senses and caused his soul to ache, the way her slightest movement registered as an electrified tingle on his skin, and the melodious sound of her voice.
Like a lovestruck adolescent suffering his first unrequited crush, he hesitated to approach the object of his desire.
What if I kissed her? What would she do? The ill-advised, outrageous thought stuck in his brain, despite repeated attempts to shake it loose. He shouldn’t even have those thoughts.
“What will you do about the discrepancy in my salary?” she asked.
“Bring it up with Korsan, eventually. I need to do a deeper audit and gather more data on all the discrepancies before I talk to him. I’ll force him to listen if I have to.”
“How are you going to force him to listen?”
He laughed. “That’s the hard part. He has a tendency to ignore my counsel. Partly the big-brother syndrome, partly his stubborn personality.”
“Like hiring me?”
“That was one of the smarter things he did.”
“So, you admit you need me.” She grinned.
More than you know. “I’m not as stubborn as he is.” He smiled back.
“Are you finished eating?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me get these boxes out of the way.” She downed the dregs of her alcoholic beverage and tossed the bottle in the box. He saved his water for later, she kept hers, and then she set the boxes on the other side of the chamber where they wouldn’t kick them in the middle of the night.