“I’m sorry.” Tamara turned her head to see his expression.
He smiled. “Don’t be. It’s over now. How’s your family?”
Tamara shrugged. “My parents are all right, but Andreya and I don’t get along at all. She spends most of her time certain that I’m getting something she’s not. My grandmother has been on an extended visit with my family and is not all that fond of me. She’s got something against me, but I don’t know exactly what it is. I was actually born two years before my parents were married, so I think it has something to do with that, although I suspect there’s more to the story than me being born out of wedlock. Andreya likes to remind me of the timing of my birth whenever she wants to feel superior. So … I kind of know how you feel.” She slid down the headboard to lie next to him. “It used to bother me, like I was a mistake or something. My grandmother has on occasion called me the bastard. She’s almost downright vicious at times.” Her grandmother’s words still hurt … much more than Andreya’s thin attempts to belittle her.
It was Merran’s turn to search out her expression. He rolled over on his side, reaching out his hand and gently tracing the side of her cheek. “People only have power over us if we let them.” He leaned over and kissed her very gently. It was not a passionate kiss but a sweet one. His mouth moved and traced across her cheek. Tamara closed her eyes, letting the feelings sweep through her. Somehow Merran did make some of the old pain go away, at least for now.
She lay on his bed in his bedroom and for the first time in her life trusted someone else enough to let herself totally relax in his presence. The only problem was that she fell asleep. She didn’t mean to, but the combination of the tea, her cold, and lying on his bed created such a state of relaxation that she fell asleep before she even realized she was tired.
She woke sometime later, disoriented and confused, and cold. Memory returned slowly as she looked around. The windows that had shown a scene of Azelle were once again dark. A soft light spilled into the bedroom from the other room, providing her with the ability to see more of her surroundings. To her right, Merran lay sprawled on the bed, appearing much younger and more vulnerable in sleep than she’d ever seen him look while awake. His dark lashes lay against his cheek, his mouth slightly open as he slept. Still wearing his shirt and shorts, with one hand up against the headboard and the other down at his side, he snored softly.
Tamara stifled her cough as she slid off the bed. She shivered, her body drenched in sweat. The cold had finally broken. Rubbing her eyes, her cheeks, and her sinuses, she padded over to the bathroom and closed the door softly behind her before flipping on the light.
She blinked and stared with her mouth open as she took in the room that lay revealed in the stark light. The master bathroom was almost as large as the room behind her. A window dominated the far wall, revealing the glow of the lights of Denver glittering across a dark tapestry. Below the window, a huge black Jacuzzi tub with gold fixtures beckoned invitingly and she wondered if Merran ever used it. Next to the tub was a large black-and-gold stall shower made of clear glass, with two gold showerheads. The toilet on the other side of the shower stall was black, just like the one in the smaller bathroom. Tamara used it, flushed, and then sampled some of the lavendar hand soap on the edge of the sink. Of all the rooms in his apartment, this was the one place she actually saw Merran’s personal effects and not just some decorator’s idea of modern chic. Shaving supplies lay scattered on the black sink. An electric toothbrush rested in its recharger and toothpaste lay beside it. Tamara used the towel hanging from the gold towel rack to wipe her hands. Curiosity prompted her to pull open the glass-and-metal frame of the medicine cabinet. Minor ailment remedies, a first aid kit, and other miscellaneous items lay scattered inside the cabinet. She turned out the lights and opened the door, waiting as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light of the master bedroom.
Merran still slept soundly, so she padded out to the kitchen area where she finally found a clock. Three o’clock in the morning—she realized she had been asleep for a long time, since she had fallen asleep at about six in the evening. It took her opening three different black metal cabinet doors before she finally found the glasses and poured herself a glass of water.
She brought the water back with her to the bed. It was not time to get up, even though she wasn’t nearly as tired as she had been. If she’d been at home, she would have gone downstairs to watch television, but she didn’t even want to try to figure out how to work the setup Merran had, nor did she want to wake him. She stood at the bedside, still soaked from the broken fever, so she pulled her shirt and shorts off and slipped under the covers in her underwear. The sheets were a cool satin and felt wonderful against her skin. She didn’t think she would sleep again, but she was out within minutes.
When she woke for the second time, the sunlight poured in through the windows. Merran’s body cupped hers, his arm across her stomach. She didn’t know if he was awake or not; as she moved slightly, he shifted, sighing and turning over onto his back. Her eyes swept down his body and hastily back up. Either his body was reacting to her or to something else, but the shorts he wore weren’t hiding much.
Under her scrutiny, he opened his eyes and looked over at her. “Morning. How do you feel this morning?”
Tamara flushed but she smiled. “Much better. I think my cold broke last night.” She took a deep breath through her nose. “See? Clear.”
Merran stretched. The cloth across his legs and lower abdomen stretched too. Tamara worked very hard not to look. “That’s good.”
She would have sat up but remembered at the last moment that she was only wearing her bra and panties. She stayed under the covers, holding them up to her chin. “Did you sleep well?”
“Extremely.” Merran yawned, stretching again. He didn’t seem at all self-conscious.
“When did I fall asleep?”
“Early. I got up and did some work for a while, then joined you. You were sleeping so hard I didn’t want to wake you by getting you under the covers.” He grinned. “And I didn’t know how you’d take me undressing you.”
“I did that myself last night. I woke up at three and was soaked from the cold breaking, so I took off my shirt and shorts and got under the covers. I hope you don’t mind.” Tamara tried to control the fidgets, but she was far too nervous. “I’ve never woken up in a guy’s bed before.” Except Greg, who doesn’t count, she thought to herself, but didn’t mention out loud.
Merran turned over again onto his stomach, hiding that part of him she really didn’t want to be aware of right now. “Not at all.” He shifted so that he was partially on top of her, which didn’t improve matters because she could now feel what she had merely seen before. She had thought anything would be preferable to seeing him, but she quickly revised that opinion. Her stomach tensed and weird things happened to her nether regions at the feel of him pressed against her. “It is certainly making waking up in the morning much more enjoyable.” He lowered his head and kissed her.
Maybe it was the unreality of waking up in a strange bed, but Tamara gave herself over to the kiss, responding to him wholeheartedly. Her arms went around his neck, her hands sliding down under his shirt. His skin was soft and warm and it twitched where she touched. She pressed against him. The covers slipped and his hands bared her shoulders and back, with only the fabric of her bra between them.
He broke the kiss and lay stiffly on her, breathing hard. Tamara tried to slide out from under him, but he held her close, pressing his weight on top of her. “Don’t move.” His voice was barely audible.
Her ardor cooled in the wake of his behavior and she lay still. His breathing slowed as he lifted his head. His eyes were dilated and huge, the dark brown almost indistinguishable from the black.
“I, uh, don’t think sleeping together is a great idea when we aren’t going to be doing anything else. This is going to drive us both nuts.”
Merran lowered his head again and breathed deeply. “It already
is. The aarya help me.”
She held herself still. They both quivered on the edge of what might come next. If either of them moved, the sexual tension would surely knock them both over. “What would happen if we did? Just theoretically.”
“Beyond the almost certain chance that we would trigger your Awakening? We’re almost past the point when people would be certain to say that I gave you the job of intern because I wanted to sleep with you. But not completely.”
Tamara suddenly knew that if she pushed it, he would give in. It was in his voice, in the tension in his body. And maybe in his mind. Something—an instinct, an inner awareness, something—told her that he was holding on by only a thread of control. Unfortunately, the first reason was enough to cure her of the desire to push it. She’d been told sex would most likely trigger her Awakening and she wasn’t quite ready for that yet.
He must have read some of what was running through her thoughts, or otherwise shared it, because he rolled off her and got into a sitting position.
Suddenly irritable and cold, she rubbed her bare shoulders and sat up too. “I don’t care what anyone else might or might not think. The only thing keeping me from you this morning is the possibility of triggering my Awakening. I’m not quite ready for that yet. After it’s over, though, we are reevaluating … and don’t think I’m going to take my internship as a way to put me off. If we’re still in this state, don’t even think I’m going to stop just because you are worried about what other people will think. We’ll deal with it and them as it happens.” She leaned over and kissed him. “Do you mind if I use your shower and borrow some clothes? Mine are really nasty.” She crawled out from under the covers, not caring that she only wore a pair of panties and a bra. “Do you have any clean towels?” Climbing out his side of the bed, she slid off and looked at him. “Hello? Merran?”
Merran shook his head, breaking out of whatever spell held him. “Yes, I have clean towels. As for clothes, I don’t know if I have anything that will fit you.”
“Let’s look.” Tamara felt better than she had in a really long time and more herself since the semester had begun. She headed for the closet.
Merran joined her in his huge walk-in closet. The search for clothes turned into a silly wrestling match that had them both back to where they had started earlier that morning. Tamara groaned as they split apart again. “We’ve got to stop this.”
“And you’ve got to stop running around here in your underwear.” Merran snapped the back strap on her bra. “Although I’m not sure you running around in my clothes is going to be any easier on me. Go take a shower. Clean towels are in the closet in the bathroom. Shampoo and soap are in the shower.”
Tamara squealed and jumped away from him. “Be nice or I’ll make you join me.”
“Be nice or I will. Go.”
As she obeyed, he went out to his desk. He sat down and listened to the small sounds as she moved around in the bathroom. He didn’t think he could resist her, not if she pressed the issue. He was quickly losing his desire to resist her. Janille had all but given him her blessing when she had offered to call him a cab yesterday—as much of a blessing as she would ever give. The rest of his Azellian staff was closeknit and loyal, and a relationship could always be hidden from the media and the Council for a while. He thought about waking up next to Tamara. He had never let anyone get close enough to find out about his history or his family before. The Azellian women he’d slept with already knew and didn’t care, or they wouldn’t have dallied with him at all, and the human women hadn’t been important enough to be told. The feel of her against him this morning— he had to stop thinking about it or he was going to find himself in a lot of pain. He took a few deep breaths.
His personal cell phone beeped at him. Looking down at the number, Merran frowned. It was not a number he recognized. Who knew his personal phone number other than his friends? “Hello?”
“Ambassador Corina?” Greg’s voice sounded strained. He spoke slowly and clearly in English. He had never called Merran ambassador in his life. “I don’t mean to disturb you, but we have something of a crisis here.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Justern. He’s been arrested. I’m down at the precinct headquarters now. They’re not letting me in to see him.” Through the connection on the phone and his intimate level came the news. They’ve drugged him with something that has him completely out of it. I can’t get through to him at all. The aarya-cursed-stone-head standing behind me is listening to everything I say. I think we need the ambassador right about now. “Would you come down?”
Merran scowled. “I’ll be there in five minutes. Which precinct are you at?” He didn’t really need to be told—he could have followed Greg’s mind, but he knew it really would not be a good idea to spook the police. Not when they’d drugged Justern.
“The third. The one not far from campus.”
“I’ll be there momentarily.” Merran hung up. He grabbed his clothes and knocked on the bathroom door. “Tamara, are you done? I have to get in there to get dressed.”
Tamara opened the door, dressed in his t-shirt and shorts. Somehow she’d tied the waist, and although the t-shirt hung large on her, she looked good—wet hair and all. “What’s wrong?”
“Justern’s been arrested.” He stepped into the bathroom.
“Justem? For what?”
“I don’t know. Greg just called me.” Merran stripped off his clothes, ignoring that she stood there, his attention completely on what he was doing.
She turned her back as he got dressed. “Why didn’t Justern call you? He gets one call.”
“They’ve drugged him. A nasty little habit the cops have when dealing with Azellians.” Merran pulled on a clean pair of boxer shorts, his pants, and a shirt. “They also have a tendency to ignore the civil rights humans take for granted.”
“You’ve done this before?”
“A few times. It’s not pleasant, and the longer Justern’s in there the worse it’s going to be. Cops don’t like beings who are rumored to have dangerous built-in abilities. They tend to shoot first and ask questions later.” Using the mirror, Merran pulled his tie over his head and tied it. Tamara turned to watch him finish dressing, but her expression indicated that she was listening more to what he was saying than paying attention to what he was doing. “I’ve got to get over there and remind them that Justern does indeed have a supporter.” He walked out of the bathroom, slipping the suit coat on as he walked.
Tamara followed him, grabbing the clothes she’d left in a pile on the floor beside the bed. “Do you have an attorney? An Azellian lawyer who knows human law?”
“Not per se. The embassy has one, but she’s a corporate lawyer. In the cases before now, we’ve used the public defender.”
They walked toward the elevator. “A public defender? For an Azellian? I’ll ask my dad to recommend one. He’s an attorney. I’ll call him as soon as I get back to my room.”
Merran tapped the elevator call button. “That would help tremendously, Tamara. Come downstairs with me or you won’t be able to leave until I get back. Can you get back to campus yourself?” Tamara grabbed her shoes from beside the couch and joined him at the elevator. They entered together.
She balanced herself against the elevator wall, slipping her shoes on as the elevator dropped. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I hope he’s all right.”
“Me too. They’re treating him like a dangerous criminal. Not the best start.” He frowned, trying not to worry too much, but he knew human police far too well. If Justern survived—he pushed the thoughts away and stared at the elevator wall, the memory of the last Azellian the police had tried to hold far too strong in his mind for comfort. Tylin Serryn, accused of having killed a human—fortunately by mundane means—hadn’t done well at all after being released by the police. The damage had been extensive, and if Tylin had been from one of the High Council families, like Justern, and innocent to boot, Merran would have had an int
erplanetary incident on his hands. Fortunately, Tylin’s guilt had been quite obvious, and the damage to his psi and brain had been deemed suitable punishment by the Council. Justern, however—Merran pushed the thoughts away and tried to let his worry go.
As soon as they parted ways, Tamara made her way back to campus, glad that her cold had broken. When she reached her room, instead of calling home, she changed quickly—her father would not approve of her showing up in some man’s clothing, she was sure—and drove home.
Luck smiled on her. Her father was home, but her sister was not. Tamara stopped in to say hi to her mother, who didn’t seem to notice, slipped past her grandmother, and made her way to her father’s office. She knocked quietly on the door.
“Come in.”
She opened the door. “Hi Dad. Do you have a moment?”
Her father looked up and smiled, although the expression did not convey his usual relaxed state. The stress of the recent family tensions was etched into his eyes and his face. “Hi Tammy. We didn’t expect to see you until tonight. Is everything all right?”
Tamara settled down in the armchair in front of her father’s desk, folding her hands across her stomach. “Actually, uh, no. I have a … legal question for you. A friend of mine got arrested last night. Do you know a good defense attorney?”
Peter Carrington eyed his daughter, his expression shifting to what Tamara called his usual lawyer look. His voice tightened just slightly. “What did she or he get arrested for?”
“I don’t know. I just found out this morning that he was arrested at all. A criminal charge, I think, because the cops are holding him. He’s probably going to be assigned a public defender, if they let him exercise his rights at all.”
Peter frowned. “Why wouldn’t they? How could they keep—” He stopped. “There was a news event this morning. It seemed one of the Azellian students was arrested for the rape of a human student.” His voice took on a funny tone.
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