Chapter 3
THREE
It was an evening of revelations.
Virak learned by listening to one of his visiting diplomats that there was noise of a Sifter base being built on the far side of the planet where it was covered in ice.
Sifters were an increasingly troublesome collection of looters. Composed of different species, including some Virilians, they had become more and more dangerous in recent sun cycles. Not long ago, a well-organized group had attempted a takeover of Exir City, Tagja City’s neighbor and close ally.
Ordinarily, news of the base would be the utmost thing pressing on his mind.
Today, however, was not ordinary. He could focus on little else but the female sitting beside him. The shine of her hair, the rich cream of her skin, the bright flash in her dark brown eyes.
There was nothing meek or deferential about her.
She closely watched each of his dinner guests, every serving person, as though bracing for battle.
She did not attempt to make conversation with him—thank the stars.
He was horrendous at idle chatter. Never once did she look to him for reassurance or guidance.
He wondered how her past made her so profoundly independent.
When the last tray was removed, the advisors and diplomats and military leaders who had joined him for the meal looked to him and he waved a hand. Dismissed, they rose to leave. So did Jessa. She rose from her chair with the grace of a goddess, but refusal twisted low in his gut.
“Not you.” At her flared eyes, he softened his words. “Please stay and talk with me for a bit.”
She lowered herself back down in her seat as the room emptied. The only sounds were those of the servers removing the last traces of the dinner and cleaning the long, glossy stone table. An attendant placed before them two small crystal glasses filled with a blue liquid.
“What is this?” she asked.
“It’s called taga.” He lifted his glass and took a sip. “It’s a traditional Virilian drink made right here in Tagja City. If you do not like it, they can bring you something different. It’s quite strong.”
“I happen to like strong drinks.” Jessa lifted the glass to her nose and sniffed.
Taga had a strong smell that could be off-putting, and sure enough her nose wrinkled.
Still, she took a sip. Surprise registered on her features.
“Hmm,” she said, taking another small sip. “It tastes like cherries and brandy.”
He disguised his surprise. Taga was not a drink that non-Virilians typically enjoyed. “I wish I could try your…cherries and brandy.” He assumed it was a drink as well. He’d never heard of either and there was no translation for them in Virilian.
She smirked and relaxed into her chair. “Cherries are a fruit and brandy is a drink that I do enjoy on occasion.” She shrugged and took another sip. “I worked as a bartender on Earth, among other things.”
“It is very strong,” he said, eyeing the level of her glass.
“Good.” She swirled her glass. “Are meals always so elaborate?”
“They are always a time of leisure and enjoyment, but no. The staff wanted to treat you to a traditional Virilian formal meal as a way of welcoming you.”
“That was kind of them,” she said. “But they don’t have to do anything for me.” She met his gaze head-on, unapologetic and direct. “I’ll be honest with you. I signed up for this. I’m here to deliver you an heir, get paid, and go home. That’s it.”
He resisted the urge to smile. She was so earnest. So businesslike. “That is good information to have. Thank you.”
“The food’s great, but your staff needn’t go to the trouble. And you can keep the fancy clothes and the luxury. I’m good to go.” She placed the glass on the table and spread her hands. “We can get started now, if you want.”
Virak sighed. “Has it occurred to you that the fine meal, the clothes, the luxury, as you put it, is not for you, but for me?”
She blinked as she processed that. “Why would you need it? Wait. Is this some weird Virilian mating ritual?” She tipped her glass in his direction. “It’s not necessary. I know you’re attracted to me.”
This time, he did smile. “It is a complicated thing, my attractions to anything. There is a…divide between what I want and what I can take.”
“Why?” she wanted to know. “You rule this city. You can take whatever you want.”
“If that were true, we would not be sitting here having this conversation.” He ran a finger along the rim of his glass.
How frustrating that he lacked the capability of explaining his problem to her. No, he lacked the courage. How could he tell this female, who’d traveled across the galaxy to breed with him, that he could not tolerate being touched?
First, there was the persistent shame of it.
Virilian males were not known for difficulties with intimacy and he was a king, with even higher expectations than other males.
Second, there was the hopelessness of it all.
He saw no way of overcoming this problem and that was the worst part of it.
The early deaths of his parents had deprived him of their affection, and he had been raised mostly alone by a constantly changing set of attendants who saw to his physical needs but nothing more.
He wanted to swallow the rest of his taga in one gulp and savor the burn of it in his throat. He sipped it instead. “Not everything, or everyone, is as they seem, Jessa. Perhaps you will have to be patient with me.”
It was clear by looking at her face that she wasn’t a female possessed of much patience.
Nevertheless, she said, “Sure.” She looked uncertainly at him, then away.
“By the way, I wanted to say how much I am enjoying the solarium room attached to my…suite. The stream is just about the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen.
I think it was great of you to give the gruti a home.
He’s beautiful, and Paeri said I could take care of him while I’m here. ”
Ah, so caring for creatures made her happy. It was something they had in common. “The human female who was here before you wanted nothing to do with him or that room. She had asked for the solarium to be closed off.”
Jessa’s eyes clouded with confusion. “Why? It’s so lovely, I could spend all day in there.”
He shrugged. “She said something about humidity and the smell.”
The female snorted. “No wonder she didn’t work out.”
The simple statement, muttered with disgust, jolted him. Jessa’s sentiment was clear—she didn’t believe the last female left because of him. It was a thought that hadn’t occurred to him before that moment. In his mind, he was the defective one.
He reached a hand toward her face, palm up.
It was an impulse—not a deliberate choice.
She raised her chin as though he had touched her.
Their gazes met and held with a charge that sizzled like electricity.
Yes, he was attracted to her. The high sage who matched Jessa with him had given him a female who tantalized his curiosity and his loins.
He rose to his feet and so did she, as though they were in synch. Her brown eyes were so dark, he couldn’t see where her pupils ended and her irises began. The long flow of black hair called to his fingers, but with regret, he lowered his hand.
Virak gritted his teeth at the closeness of her. Heat of her body mingled with his own, and a sexual pull that he had little control over tugged at him to get closer.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth and her own lips parted.
His throat went dry. He gazed at her lips.
The idea of kissing her felt like a far-off fantasy.
He could see the frantic throb of her pulse in the hollow between her collarbones.
She was aroused by him, as many other females had been—as the last female had been—but he had not felt a draw as powerful as this until now.
He could almost forget that he could not touch her. Perhaps he could endure the discomfort and do it anyway, just to know the softness of her skin.
“Will you allow me to take you on a tour of the city tomorrow?” he asked.
She didn’t blink. “Yes.”
“Thank you.” Excitement skated through him at the prospect of having her all to himself. “I will send Paeri for you.”
“Okay.” She swallowed hard. “I’m looking forward to it.”
He clasped his hands behind his back, though they itched and would not be still, and gave a slow nod. “It has been a pleasure dining with you.”
“Will you come to my room later?”
He froze at the overt invitation. Every cell in his body screamed yes. His heart pounded. Need pulsed through his veins as thick as blood.
“Good night, Jessa,” he said, then turned and left, barely breathing, barely seeing. He retreated to his chambers with the scent of her running through him like a dagger. He had survived much in his life. He would survive this brief time with Jessa Robson.