CHAPTER EIGHT #2
He paused in the act of opening the door. “Thank you. So do you.” The words were so formal, and so opposite from the dark heat flashing in his eyes, that Ash bit her lip in confusion. She wished she could get a read on this guy.
He placed a hand to her back and something about her body seemed to sigh at his touch.
Although she had accepted her attraction to him, she still wondered why she felt these things.
It still concerned her. The only thing keeping her at ease about the whole thing was the knowledge that her time on the Raplan-B would be brief.
There was no risk of attachment. No risk of falling in love.
Not that he wanted her, anyway. Aside from those few glimpses of heat in his eyes, and perhaps a few lingering touches, Zade showed no inclination to move their relationship beyond exactly what it was.
Still, his hand felt warm at the small of her back as they exited the space they both shared.
His arm moved to her ribs as a steadying force and Ash gritted her teeth against the chills his touch brought her.
It was so easy to be touched by him. So easy to slip her own arm around his waist and lean in.
Once off the medical deck, Ash’s attention moved from Zade’s proximity to the vast richness of the ship.
It was a colorful place of wide, open spaces, warm lighting and soaring ceilings.
The air smelled fresh, like the outdoors—a little like it had in Colorado, and nothing like it did in New York.
Baylans moved through the corridors. They were a tall, regal people, mind-boggling in their beauty.
“Why are there so many more males than females here?” Ash asked Zade in a hushed voice.
They were passing through what looked like a park, with lush purple grass and arching trees with shimmering trunks.
The path they walked cut through the lovely space.
It was flat and wide, with a smooth, slightly springy surface that was easy for her to walk on.
The sky above—or rather, the ceiling—held the warm pinks and oranges of a setting sun, but the light was full and illuminating.
Birdlike creatures glided on air currents far above, letting out long, low calls to one another.
“Because there are eight males born for every one female,” he replied. “We do not know why.”
“That’s a problem.”
“It is why we celebrate every female who is identified as a Baylan mate.” He glanced down at her with an intense expression. “There are several such humans living on the Raplan-B. What do you think of them?”
Her answer seemed important to him. “If they’re happy, I’m happy,” she said. “It’s none of my business, really.” Maybe that was the New Yorker coming out in her, but it was the truth.
“I wondered if you thought less of them.”
She turned confused eyes to his. “Why would I think that?”
He shrugged. “You have not asked to meet them.”
“They’re like, royalty, or something,” she said, stating the obvious. “I’ve seen them on TV, in these crazy dresses, attending international summits and stuff. Why would they want to see me?”
“Royalty works differently in Baylan culture than on your planet,” he said. “Our Yana-queen does not lock herself away in her chambers. She is accessible and enjoys spending much of her time in public. Perhaps one day you will meet her.”
Ash felt her brows rise. “Rachel Harkett is way too busy to bother with me.” Everyone on Earth knew the names of the women who lived on Baylan ships.
They had mythical status on Earth. Just a few months ago, another woman found herself with a Baylan whom everyone thought was a total ass.
Harc Gral-Nak, Saar-king of the Veska-3, had a horrendous reputation on Earth.
He had been the poster child for the why-we-shouldn’t-trust-these-aliens sect of the population until he met Olivia Fisher—a reporter, of all things—and turned into a big, gorgeous teddy bear.
Well, he was still a little scary. It wouldn’t kill the guy to smile more.
“This is a place I wanted to show you.” Zade stopped at a place that looked like a café, or a lounge.
It was surrounded by tall trees with shimmering, iridescent bark and leaves the colors of cotton candy.
Large, soft cushions sat around small, low tables made of slabs of some translucent crystal.
They were illuminated from within, shifting colors through the rainbow.
Ash closed her gaping mouth. “Where are we?”
“In a small food dispensary in the Atriama, a large, public open space designed for socialization and relaxation.”
She glanced up at him. “You sound like you’re reading from a guidebook.”
“I used to spend time here.” He led her to an open table. “Before I was high physician.”
It was a relief to sink into the soft, spongy cushion and rest her leg. “We really can eat here?”
He nodded as a short, round bot rolled up to the table next to them with a tablet built in to its front. “How is your leg?”
She waved a hand. “Fine. I’m hungry, though. Aren’t you?”
A ghost of a smile curved his lips as he led her to an open table. “I am slightly off schedule, but I can eat.”
“Off schedule,” she murmured. “You have got to unwind a little, Zade.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I do not think that would be wise.”
There was an undercurrent to his voice that caused Ash to look up suddenly. His gaze, hot and electric blue, clashed with hers. He looked hungry, and not for food. She didn’t understand the mixed signals. His words were formal, but his body revealed something coiled and aching and barely leashed.
Ash moved her hands over the smooth table. The crystal turned a vivid shade of blue, shining through her hands and turning them the same color. She cleared her throat, eager to break the tension. “This is amazing.”
The bot zipped over to them. Text appeared on its body. It was in Baylan, so Zade ordered for both of them.
“I ordered a wide selection, so you may eat what you choose.” He leaned back on the cushions and rested an arm on a drawn-up knee. “The Atriama was one of my favorite places.”
“Was?” She raised an eyebrow.
“My duties do not allow me the free time I once had.” He looked around, as if seeing the Atriama for the first time, or more likely, the first time in a long time. “I liked studying here. And meeting up with friends.”
“You have friends?” she asked, half joking.
“I do, although we rarely see each other now. Many are physicians on other ships.”
“All I’ve ever seen you do is work.” She cocked her head. “Do you sleep?”
For a moment, his brilliant blue eyes matched the vivid tones of the crystal table. “I sleep when you sleep,” he said. “I program my reju to put me into restorative rest and to wake me when your brain signals show signs of awakening.”
Her brows went up. “You don’t just fall asleep when you’re tired?”
“I arrange my sleep around my highest priority patient.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Presently, that is you.”
That was the saddest thing Ash had ever heard. She leaned forward. “Zade, don’t you think that’s a little…unhealthy?”
A shadow crossed his features, before he pulled at the neckline of his uniform. “All of these soul markings denote my many duties. I cannot neglect them.”
She shook her head. “That’s fucked up. Just saying.”
His gaze went heavy on hers. “It could change.” He shrugged, trying to make the movement appear casual, but it came out as a jerk of his shoulders. “One day I may bond with a mate. That would cause me to make changes.”
Ash did not like the way those words felt.
A mate. For Zade. The thought of a female putting her hands on his chiseled body made her hands curl into fists.
She cleared her throat. “Do you…” she began without a clue where she was going with it, but thankfully the bot returned.
Its domed top opened to reveal six shiny metal spheres, which Zade unloaded and opened up.
“This is a good sampling of authentic Baylan food,” he explained.
His gaze was a weight on her. “We have kept our recipes from our home planet, as well as many of our customs.” He plucked an orange cube from a bowl and popped it in his mouth.
“These are called cruuls.” He picked up another one and held it to her lips.
“Try one.” His silky command had her opening her mouth and taking in what he offered.
His fingers didn’t pull away immediately.
As the cruul slid in, his fingertip brushed her lip.
Ash barely tasted the thing she was eating.
Distantly, her mind told her it was good, but all her senses were entirely attuned to the alien across from her.
His vibrant blue eyes matched the marking on his skin and both seemed to swirl and illuminate.
“Would you like to try another?” he asked, low and husky.
“Yes, please,” she replied, with meaning. He couldn’t miss the suggestive tone to her words, or the blatant arousal undoubtedly beaming from her eyes. She was shameless, but so what? Maybe he was the kind of guy who needed really clear signals.
Zade fed her another piece of Baylan cuisine and Ash wondered what the hell was going on with her libido. Maybe she’d been celibate for too long. Another possibility: The crack to the head scrambled her brain and turned her into a sex maniac.
“Tell me about your life before you came here,” Zade said. “Did you have a profession?”
“I did. Do.” She swallowed her bite of food.
“I mean, I think my job is still there.” Since arriving on the Raplan-B, Ash had given little thought to her job.
It felt like it belonged in a different universe.
“I was a bookkeeper.” She shook her head.
“I mean, I am a bookkeeper. I worked a bunch of jobs—sometimes two or three at a time—before I started doing the books for my mom’s hair salon. ”
“A bookkeeper involves managing money.” He cocked his head. “You are good at math, then?”
“I am. It pays the bills.” And Shaun had accumulated a lot of them.
“After a few years of doing my mom’s books, a few other businesses on her street hired me.
I have a solid group of clients now. It pays the rent.
” It did, but squinting at spreadsheets all day didn’t excite her.
All it did was give her carpal tunnel. “A girl’s gotta make a living.
” She said it flippantly, but meant it seriously.
Zade’s eyebrows rose. “Your work does not please you.”
Ash shrugged. “I wasn’t in a position to find work that pleased me. I needed work that fed me. My husband and I lived a bit beyond our means. We had an expensive apartment and—”
“You have a mate?” Zade interrupted her in a sharp voice.
She blinked at his sudden intensity. “Well, I…no. I mean, I did.” She closed her eyes. “He died four years ago.”
“The male you mentioned a while back. Shaun.” The vibrant blue of his eyes swirled in shades of indigo, lapis, cerulean. “I did not know that was your mate. Such a loss must have caused you great pain.”
“It did.” She closed her eyes. “We were married for four years, so he’s been gone for almost as long as we were married,” she replied. “We were friends for a while before that, but you heal, you know?”
Zade continued to gaze at her. “I have never lost a mate. I cannot imagine the devastation.”
She took a deep breath. “From what I know about Baylans—and it’s not a ton—when you guys bond with someone, it’s different from humans.
” When he just raised his brows, she waved a hand and barreled on.
“You touch someone and it’s like this chemical reaction, right?
And you get new marks on your chest and you bond for life.
Humans…aren’t like that. Some of us have life partners, but most fall in and out of love a bunch before we settle down.
And even then, couples split up. As far as death, we’re wired to heal from loss, I guess. ”
“Have you healed?” he asked. “Do you still miss him?”
“Shaun?” Ash furrowed her brow, searching for an honest answer.
“A part of me will always miss him, but I stopped crying for him a long time ago. I’ve built a life on my own, without him.
I moved into a studio apartment back in my home neighborhood, downsized my life and have been paying off our debt, a little at a time.
” There had been a lot of debt. Shaun could spend, often spending what they didn’t have.
Zade was perfectly still. “Do you think you will ever…bind yourself to another?”
The question was so personal, and so strangely worded, Ash blinked. A part of her wanted to answer it as badly as he seemed to need to ask it. “I don’t know,” she replied softly. “It would depend on the guy.”
Their meal finished, he rose to his feet and reached for her hand. “Let us walk.”
Ash placed her palm in his wide, capable hand and rose.
Again, delicious tingles sprayed up her arm from their point of contact.
She felt wobbly and not just from her leg.
They strolled away from the café and into a thick forest, where paths wound through strange-looking trees.
The air smelled of delicate flowers and warm moss.
He stopped in a secluded spot. Surrounded by the thick trunks, the glimmering bark set off the light like the facets of a delicate disco ball. Zade turned her to him. He looked so serious, Ash’s nerves pricked up. “Is something wrong?”
“There is something I must tell you.” His eyes narrowed to aquamarine slits. “It may be difficult to hear.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. In fact, all her panic buttons went off simultaneously.
Similar words, uttered four years ago after the accident that changed her life, rattled through her head.
Had there been a death in her family? Had something terrible happened on Earth?
She was so isolated. Anything could be happening and enough had already happened.
Death seemed to be stalking her these days, but here, in that beautiful place with this beautiful male, she didn’t want it to find her.
“I don’t think I want to hear it.” Her breath turned shallow.
He closed his hands around her shoulders. This close, she could feel the heat of his broad, muscled body and smell the warm, fresh scent of him. “I must tell you,” he said, his voice a growl.
God, it had to be bad. Her head swam and a familiar twist sank her belly. On impulse, on instinct, and in an effort to delay whatever dreadful news he seemed determined to deliver, Ash rose up to her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.