Submitting to the Shadow: Kindred Tales 27

by Evangeline Anderson

  “That’s your business,” Commander Roark said shortly. “I only need your commitment to exclusivity for a single solar year. By that time my prototype should be ready to mass produce and distribute to females who wish to be impregnated with Kindred fetuses.”

  “I’d like to ask ‘what prototype,’ but I’m sensing you won’t be willing to talk about your work until I sign the contract,” Sammi said dryly.

  “You’re correct about that. And, Ms. Grey—it’s going to be our work.” He gave her that intense look again—the one that made her stomach feel fluttery, though she tried to ignore it—and stood to offer his hand.

  Sammi stood as well and held out her own hand. Normally she would have said something along the lines of how she couldn’t wait to start working for him or how she was sure they were going to get along great, but she wasn’t sure of either of those things. So she simply said,

  “Thank you, Commander Roark. I, uh, I’m sure we’ll have an excellent working relationship.”

  “As long as you live up to your end of the contract, we certainly will,” he said gravely. “And I think we should dispense with formalities, as we’re going to be working so closely together. You may call me simply, Roark. May I call you Samantha?” he asked as he clasped her hand in his much larger one.

  “I…uh…” Suddenly all Sammi’s poise left her. The reason for that was the strange feeling that came over her the moment he touched her.

  A wave of tingling warmth swept up her arm and then covered her whole body. She felt for a moment as though she’d been standing on the beach and a huge, warm wave had drenched her.

  “I…I…that will be fine,” she managed at last, trying to regain her composure.

  “Very good.” He released her hand. “I’ll have the contracts drawn up and you can sign them tomorrow before we begin work.”

  “Oh, will…I mean, you want me to start tomorrow?” Sammi stammered. She wanted to ask Roark if he’d felt the same strange sensation when they had touched, but it was clear from his composure that he hadn’t.

  The strange warmth had faded from most of her body when he let her hand go, but it remained as an uncomfortable hot tingling sensation in her breasts and between her thighs. What in the world was going on—had she imagined it?

  Roark raised an eyebrow at her.

  “Do you have other plans?”

  “No, no!” Sammi assured him quickly. “I was just…surprised, that’s all. The hiring process tends to take a bit longer down on Earth.”

  “Well, you’re not on Earth now, Samantha,” he said firmly. “And we need to get to work immediately—we have a lot to get done if we’re going to be finished in a year, so you can immediately begin procreating.”

  “Immediately begin—oh.” Sammi understood that he was referring to her remark that she wanted a big family. “Of course.” She nodded. “I’m sure we can manage.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Roark was already turning back to his desktop monitor, clearly absorbed in his research. “Seven sharp. Don’t be late.”

  “No, I…I won’t be.” Sammi still felt rattled by the strange feelings that lingered after their handshake. “Goodbye…Roark,” she said, feeling odd about calling her new boss by his name with no titles in front of it.

  “Goodbye.” He wasn’t even looking at her anymore—his eyes were focused on the monitor in front of him. “You can show yourself out.”

  “Okay—thank you.” Sammi nodded and left his office, still feeling rather dazed. It was undoubtedly the strangest interview she’d ever had.

  She had no idea the job she’d just taken would be even stranger.

  Two

  Roark focused fiercely on his monitor, though he saw nothing on it. He was fighting to hold on to his composure—fighting not to come around the desk and take his new assistant by the shoulders and…

  And what? Drag her in for a kiss? Embrace her? Hold her full, curvy body to his and crush her against him so he could breathe in her sweet, hypnotically feminine fragrance?

  He’d felt the Strike when he first touched her—the tingling warmth that engulfed his whole body when their skin made contact. It was a sign, some would say. A sign they ought to be together. And he’d been able to tell by her reaction—her wide eyes and quickened pulse—that she had felt it too.

  What’s wrong with you? Get hold of yourself! he commanded himself sternly. Forget about the Strike—you must have imagined it. And even if you didn’t, it doesn’t matter.

  At last Samantha Grey left, taking her sweet scent with her and he was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

  Why in the Seven Hells had he hired her?

  Roark got up and began to pace. She was going to be a complete distraction—he just knew it. He should have cut the interview short the moment he saw her luscious, full curves and long, reddish-gold hair…her pale, creamy skin with the Goddess kisses—what humans called freckles—sprinkled across her nose and cheeks…her big, green eyes that held so much intelligence and curiosity and fire…

  Those eyes had snapped in anger when he’d demanded that she not get pregnant—not even date or try to find a mate—while she worked for him. But Roark had known the moment he laid eyes on her that he couldn’t stand the thought of her with another male.

  Not even if he could never have her himself.

  Her defiant words echoed in his mind, “…I’m going to want to get married and have a lot of kids. I’ve always wanted that.”

  That was something Roark could never give her—never give any female.

  Not that it mattered, he told himself firmly. His work—that was the important thing—that was all that mattered. He was so close to a breakthrough and now, with Samantha Grey to help, surely his research would finally bear fruit.

  And in the meantime, he would have to ignore the immediate, intense attraction he’d felt the moment he first laid eyes on her. She wasn’t for him, Roark told himself.

  But then, for the next solar year, she wasn’t for anyone else, either.

  Taking comfort in that thought, he forced the memory of the tingling warmth her touch had caused him out of his mind and focused on his monitor.

  Work first, everything else last. That was his motto and he intended to live by it, no matter how distractingly lovely his new assistant was.

  Three

  “So, how did it go?” Meg asked anxiously as Sammi walked into the lovely suite her best friend shared with her Beast Kindred husband. “Did you get the job?”

  “I got it.” Sammi tried to smile but she was still feeling strange after her encounter with Roark. She’d gotten distracted, thinking about him, and had taken a wrong turn on her way back to Meg and Berik’s suite. As a result, she’d ended up on the wrong end of the ship and had to come all the way back again—no small journey since the Mother Ship was huge.

  “You got it?” Meg grabbed her by the arms and danced around excitedly. “You got it, Sammie—you got it! Hey…” She paused her happy dance and frowned. “Why aren’t you more excited? This means you can stay up here on the Mother Ship with me! Meggie and Sammie together again, right?”

  “And it also means they’ll assign me a suite of my own so I can stop crashing in your spare room,” Sammi pointed out, trying to smile.

  “Sammi, honey, you know we don’t mind! Berik and I love having you here!” Meg protested.

  “And I love being here,” Sammi said, though in truth, it was a little awkward staying with her friend at times. Mainly because Meg and Berik hadn’t been married that long and they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. They were always kissing and canoodling and forgetting Sammie was in the same room when things got really hot and heavy.

  Also, though the walls were well insulated, Meg was a screamer during sex—something Sammi remembered well from their undergrad days when they had shared an apartment. She did her best to ignore the sounds coming from her best friend’s bedroom, but she’d begun to wish she had invested in a pair of noise-cance
lling earphones before coming up to the Mother Ship.

  So, though she loved Meg to death and would always be grateful to her friend for offering her shelter when things got scary, she wasn’t sorry to be moving to her own place.

  “Maybe you can get a suite in our same corridor,” Meg suggested brightly. “And Berik can go back down to Earth for your stuff—he won’t mind.”

  “If he really doesn’t mind, that would be wonderful. I’ll have my Aunt Vicky pack it all up,” Sammi said. “I just…don’t feel safe down there right now.”

  “Of course you don’t!” Meg said indignantly. “Down there all by yourself with some crazy stalker chasing you! I can’t believe the police weren’t more help!”

  Sammi shrugged uneasily.

  “They said he covered his tracks too well and without an identity, how could the court issue any kind of restraining order?”

  “Still, somebody should have helped you,” Meg grumbled.

  “They did. You did,” Sammi reminded her. “You brought me up here and let me stay with you and even got me a job.”

  “No, you got the job. Which reminds me all over again—why aren’t you happier? I thought this was supposed to be a feather in your cap, working with the super-respected researcher and scientist, Commander Roark.”

  “It will be. And I am happy—don’t get me wrong. It’s just…” Sammi bit her lip, not wanting to complain.

  But Meg wasn’t having it.

  “Just what? Come on, Sammi—spill. You know you always do.”

  “Well, it’s just that Commander Roark is kind of…kind of strange,” Sammi admitted. “I mean, I shouldn’t say anything about him at all—he did give me the job,” she rushed on. “But he’s just…”

  “He’s just weird, right?” Meg said so nonchalantly that Sammi stared at her.

  “Well, yes. But how do you know about him?”

  “I don’t,” Meg said. “But I do know that he’s a Shadow Twin.”

  “A what?” Sammi shook her head. “Is that a special kind of Kindred or something?” Come to think of it, she had wondered what kind of Kindred Roark was. He didn’t have fangs like a Blood Kindred or golden eyes like a Beast Kindred or a twin like a Twin Kindred—at least none she’d seen hanging around.

  “A shadow twin,” Meg repeated. “It’s what happens sometimes when a woman who’s mated to Twin Kindred gets pregnant. It’s a one in a million kind of thing but every once in a while instead of two babies, she’s carrying three.”

  “So she has triplets instead of twins, right? What’s so strange about that?” Sammi asked.

  “Nope—they’re not triplets. Two of them are regular Twin Kindred,” Meg explained. “But the third—the Shadow Twin—is kind of a loner. They don’t have a twin to bond with or help them along so it’s kind of rough for them. Also, they have really dramatic coloring.”

  “Well, I noticed that at least,” Sammi remarked. “Roark has such black hair. And those pale eyes—I’ve never seen anything like them!”

  “Well the thing is, they don’t start out that way,” Meg said. “They’re actually born with white hair and black eyes. Then when they hit puberty, it switches. Isn’t that strange?”

  “Wow…” Sammi shook her head. “That is weird. So…is that the reason Commander Roark is so, uh, stern and demanding? Because he’s a Shadow Twin?”

  “Ooo, stern and demanding? Sounds sexy!” Meg fluttered her eyelashes and put one hand to her cheek. “Oh, Commander Roark…what’s that you say? You want to chain me to the bed and spank me? Oh dear, I suppose if it’s part of my job, then I can’t refuse…”

  “Stop it!” Half laughing/half serious, Sammi gave her friend a playful nudge. “It’s nothing like that!”

  “Oh? What is it like, then?” Meg raised an eyebrow.

  Sammi found herself strangely reluctant to disclose the details of the contract she’d agreed to sign—even to her best friend.

  “He just wants my exclusive and undivided attention, that’s’ all,” she said uneasily. “He said there were going to be a lot of early mornings and late evenings—that kind of thing.”

  “Well, that’s nothing new for you, though,” Meg objected. “I mean, I remember how hard it always was trying to pry you away from the lab! I could hardly ever get you to go out!”

  “Because when I did, I wound up falling down drunk,” Sammi laughed.

  Meg giggled.

  “You never did have a head for any kind of alcohol. Remember that time back in grad school when you danced on the table and sang The Star Spangled Banner at One-eyed Joe’s?”

  “Hey—you were right up there with me!” Sammi reminded her, laughing even harder. “And it was your idea to go on an all-you-can-drink Margarita night!”

  “Well, well—and what are you two lovely ladies laughing about?” Berik came through the front door of the suite, smiling widely.

  He had the glowing, golden eyes of all Beast Kindred and he was an exceptionally nice guy, Sammi thought. She was so glad her best friend had ended up with Berik—especially considering some of the losers she’d dated in college.

  “Oh, nothing,” she said, smiling at him. “Just remembering old times.”

  “And celebrating new times!” Meg exclaimed. “Honey, Sammi got the job!”

  “She did? Wonderful!” Berik smiled at her with genuine enthusiasm. “Congratulations, friend of my mate.”

  “Thank you.” Sammi smiled. “I’m so glad I get to stay up here where it’s safe!”

  “And honey, I told her you would go get her things. You will, won’t you?” Meg put in quickly.

  “No problem,” Berik said easily. He frowned. “Of course you can’t go back down to your home world when some evil male is trying to hurt you.”

  “Thanks for being so kind and understanding,” Sammi said gratefully. “I promise there won’t be much and I’ll have my Aunt Vicky pack it all up and have it waiting for you.”

  “But not right away,” Meg said anxiously. “Because tonight, we celebrate!”

  “I’d say celebrations are definitely in order,” Berik agreed, putting an arm around Meg’s waist and pulling her in close for a kiss on the cheek.

  “All right—but no alcohol,” Sammi said. “I don’t need to be hung-over on my first day at work tomorrow.”

  “Ah, come on, Sammi!” Meg protested. “What’s a celebration without champagne?”

  “Well…” Sammi sighed. “Maybe just one glass.”

  “Just one bottle, you mean!” Meg grinned at her and Sammi smiled back. Her best friend was incorrigible but she couldn’t help loving her.

  I really do have a lot to celebrate, she told herself. I can stay here on the Mother Ship and I have a new job anyone in Embryology would be envious of!

  Well, anyone who didn’t mind working with the stern and somewhat scary Commander Roark, that was.

  I don’t mind, Sammi told herself firmly. In fact, I’m sure I overreacted and imagined that weird tingling warmth I felt when I touched him. I was probably just nervous and on edge and I let my imagination run away with me. We got a bit of a rocky start, but once we start working together, everything is going to be wonderful—I’m sure it is.

  She hoped so, anyway. But even as she laughed and celebrated with Meg and Berik, she still had a nagging uncertainty about Roark in the back of her mind…

  Four

  “Do you make it a habit to come into work hung-over, Samantha?”

  Roark’s question caught Sammi off guard. She put a hand to her throat apprehensively, uncertain what to say. She wasn’t hung-over—not exactly, anyway. But the celebratory champagne had flowed a little free the night before. And it seemed like every time Sammi said it was time to go to bed, Meg proposed just one more toast.

  As a result, she’d been rubbing her temples and squinting at the too-bright light over her workstation as she went over the paperwork her new boss had given her. Roark must have noticed—not that it was any of his business, she thought indi
gnantly.

  “I’m not hung-over,” she said stiffly. “I just have a headache this morning, that’s all.”

  “A headache brought on by overindulgence.” There was a slight growl to Roark’s deep voice and his pale silver-white eyes seemed to skewer her in a way that made Sammi squirm uncomfortably.

  “I didn’t ‘overindulge.’ I just—” she began but her new boss cut her off.

  “Don’t lie to me, Samantha.” His voice was low and stern. “I can smell the alcohol on you.”

  She looked at him in surprise.

  “What? But I took a shower this morning!”

  “And used plenty of some kind of flowery body wash—I can tell,” Roark said, his nose wrinkling. “But I can also smell the remains of the alcohol you over-imbibed last night seeping from your pores. That, added to your obvious headache and the redness of your eyes, lets me know you drank a lot last night—much more than was good for you.”

  His irrefutable evidence made her stomach clench with dread but Sammi wasn’t one to give in without a fight.

  “This is unbelievable!” She shook her head. “So you’re accusing me of coming to work hung over because of all these ‘clues’ you think you’ve found?”

  “I am.” Roark folded his arms over his broad chest and gave her a hard stare. “So I’m asking you again—are you hung over? Before you answer, remember, I can and will punish you for deliberate untruthfulness.”

  “What?” She stared at him in anger and surprise. “Did you just say you’d punish me?”

  “I will, without hesitation.” He nodded decisively.

  “But you can’t—”

  “I can. There is a punishment clause in the contract you signed. Or did you neglect to read that part?” He raised one raven-black eyebrow at her challengingly.

  “I don’t believe this.”

  Sammi stood up from the small workstation he’d given her—located across the room from his large desk.