Aislyn quivered inside. There was something they weren’t telling her. Some of the board members wore expressions of pity. With a visible tremor, her hand accepted the pen that the commander handed her. She pushed aside her uneasiness and bent to read the official documents. As she read, her eyes narrowed. They wanted her to test the anti-cat weapons. She turned the page in the quiet room. Aislyn read the next page. Accident compensation rates, life insurance, public liability. Reports due on a monthly basis. Glancing up, Aislyn saw the stern visages. Some still bore pity while others looked quietly satisfied. The fools. They thought this was punishment. She schooled her expression to neutral, quashing the celebratory roar building inside. Finally, the adventure she longed for. Aislyn scrawled her initial and turned the page. Inwardly, she grinned, her heart exulting in anticipation.
Finally, she had a purpose.
At the end of the contract, she signed her name with a flourish. "Who wants to witness the agreement?"
Not one member of the board moved so much as a muscle.
"I’ll do it," Seamus snapped. He stepped up beside her, affixing his heavy scrawl under her signature before stepping back. "I have to go. When do you want me to return for Aislyn?"
"One week from today," the commander said. "That will give her time to pack and get her instructions from the research department."
Aislyn grinned at Seamus. His return scowl did nothing to dampen her soaring spirits. It was happening. Finally, she would leave the colony and take her rightful place in the world. Aislyn O’Sullivan had landed her dream job.
* * * *
The party was in full swing, the competitors assembled at Maximillan’s resort, ready for the start of the competition. Soft music played in the background. Candles glowed on the small intimate tables while Sameth knew the buffet table held a vast and exotic spread. She’d planned it that way along with the endless supply of Moet.
From the doorway, she observed the couples on the dance floor and mentally compared her unrelieved black sheath with the peacock bright plums worn by the women. Armani gowns stood along side New Zealander, Karen Walker’s creations. Glittering diamonds were the norm with the women, but not only the females exuded wealth. The men wore designer labels too, ranging from formal to casual. Wherever she looked, she saw the subtle nuances of rich men and women trying to outdo each other. All the new gadgets and toys were on display as competitors juggled for that essential mental edge in the coming competition. Some were open friends, some cautious friends and others deadly enemies. Sameth’s job was to work out which and use it to Maximillan’s advantage. No easy assignment when winning was everything to these people. Sameth surveyed the laughing faces with an edge of cynicism. She trusted none of them and remained watchful of her back and her front. Due to her job with Maximillan, she had as many enemies as he did. Strolling past the buffet table, ostensibly to check on the caterers, she listened to the careless gossip, filing away useful snippets for later reference.
Greed.
Every action governed by greed. Maximillan was no exception. In his face, she saw the thrill of the hunt, and the desperate need to get one up on his business competitors. Top dog. That’s what this competition was all about.
Sameth surreptitiously checked her watch then slid from the crowded ballroom, to check all was in order for the start of competition tomorrow. Once clear of partygoers, she strode down a narrow but well-lit pathway to a small clearing where she’d left her motorized golf cart.
During the ten-minute drive from the resort to the estate, she went over all the details in her mind. Sameth parked the cart, and moved rapidly but quietly toward the office. She liked to check the guards were alert and at their stations instead of goofing off. The instant she appeared in the doorway, the two brawny men standing in front of the office door stood to attention. Although chunky, their weight rested evenly on their feet as if they were poised to strike. Sameth nodded in approval.
"Problems?" she asked, pleased by their vigilance. Their assignment was an important one--to guard the list before the start of competition in the morning. Even Maximillan had no idea of the list contents since he’d wanted to enter the competition and pit his wits against his friends. Sameth was both author and custodian.
"All quiet," one of the guards replied. "We haven’t seen a soul."
"Keep alert," Sameth warned, and she sought eye contact with both men to enforce the order. Satisfied they were doing the job required, she walked briskly down the passage, her heels clicking on the tiled floor as she headed for her room.
She exchanged her gown for casual clothes, still unrelieved black, and tugged a pair of comfortable flats onto her feet. After yanking a small black nylon backpack from under her bed, she opened her bedroom door a few inches to peer down the corridor in both directions. Clear. A smile curved her lips. The sleeping pills in the staff dinners had done the trick. Apart from the guards, the rest of the staff were asleep. Elation hummed through her body, anticipation widening the smile on her lips. Everything was going to plan.
Sameth crept from the house and once clear, increased her speed, a buoyant spring of anticipation in each step. The tang of salt was stronger now, and the soft curl of waves as they tumbled to shore more distinct. Sameth escalated pace until she was almost running.
Without warning, a body appeared on the path in front of her and unable to stop in time, Sameth careered into them headfirst. The air whooshed from her lungs. She tripped, and then twisted her body in a blind panic. A guard. She muttered a soft curse. Two hands settled on her shoulders, holding her upright. Instead of the rough treatment she expected, the hands relaxed. Her head jerked up to peer through the darkness. She inhaled then exhaled with a soft sigh.
"You’re here," she murmured.
"Of course, I’m here darlin’. I promised, didn’t I?"
Letting out a whoop of joy, she sprang into his arms, winding her legs around his waist. He gave a bark of surprised laughter then whirled them both around in a circle. Then their lips met, the games ended, and the sounds of the night took over. The lonely cry of a Morepork sounded from the trees, the soft slap of water against the bow of a boat and the breeze ruffling the trees.
The moon peeked from behind a cloud, and he looked down at her. Sameth smiled.
"Ah, darlin’, I’ve missed you." He smoothed his hands through her hair and mapped her face. "Can you spend the night?"
"I can stay until early morning."
"Then what are we waiting for?" He strode down the path carrying her with ease. Sameth pressed against his chest, burrowing her hands beneath his collar to touch warm, masculine skin and breathing deeply to reacquaint herself with his scent. Inside, she ached with need, her body pulsing with a heady sense of expectation.
The path gave way to sand, the sand to water. He waded into the shallows where a second man waited with an inflatable dingy.
The second man greeted her with a wide smile. "Sameth, darlin’. Long time no see. How ya doing?"
Sameth giggled. "Fine. I’m doing fine."
The man that held her gave a mock growl. "She might be doing fine, but I’m not." The moonlight showcased his wolfish smile, and Sameth grinned back as he set her down gently inside the boat. "Sameth and I have some private catching up to do." He settled down beside her and she leaned against his broad chest, savoring the quiet moment of togetherness. They were rare and therefore treasured.
The oars slapped the water with a rhythmic beat as the second man rowed strongly toward an anchored launch. Five minutes later, they pulled up alongside a launch.
Sameth’s heart hammered and her tongue swept out to slow-slide across her bottom lip. Longing seeped from her heart as she studied the harsh visage. There was a maddening touch of arrogance about him, but then she wouldn’t love a man who lacked confidence and a sense of self. He stepped up close and nuzzled the soft skin at the base of her neck. Sameth trembled, her body desperate for a closer, more personal contact.
"How long do
we have?" the second man asked.
Reluctantly, she retreated a few inches, but she was unable to totally let go. Her hand stroked one bicep.
"Until four in the morning," she murmured, only partly concentrating on the conversation. "I’d better be on the beach at four. If I meet anyone on the way back to the house, I’ll say I’ve been for a run." She relaxed against his chest again, reveling in their physical differences.
"Four it is. I’ll knock on the cabin door at ten minutes to. Did you bring the list?"
"Of course," Sameth murmured. She shrugged off the pack and handed it to the second man. "All the details you need are in there."
"You’re a champion, darlin’."
The man holding Sameth grinned. "I knew that already, little brother. Now scoot, will you? I want some privacy with my girl." He bent his head, his mouth covering Sameth’s hungrily, before he swung her up into his arms and headed for the master cabin.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Aislyn gaped at the pretentious little fairy who strutted into the room carrying a locked box with the pomp and ceremony normally reserved for the crown’s jeweled wings. She sighed grumpily and zeroed in on the metal box. Another stupid anti-cat potion--she’d bet on it.
"You there," the male fairy trilled. "This is my cat-away formula. I want you to test it immediately."
Aislyn rolled her eyes. "I’ll add you to the list." She picked up the list that now ran into several pages and flicked through to the end. "Name?"
"No." He snatched the list from her hands and scribbled out the very first name, replacing it with his. "I must insist you test mine first."
"I’ll do my best," she said, forcing an interested smile. In a short week, she learned research fairies inhabited a world of their own. Me, me, me was the eternal cry. Aislyn had assumed she’d be part of a team, but she was learning. They each had their pet projects: potions, pills, sprays, and ointments. She was required to test them all, following explicit instructions. Then, they expected her to complete an in-depth questionnaire--in triplicate.
He placed the box in the middle of the table next to Aislyn. "I’ll expect your report in three days."
Not if she had anything to do with it. In three days, she’d be safely human side, far away from the research bigwigs.
"My cat-away formula will make me famous," the fairy crowed, pushing his bifocal lenses back into place. I’ll win a Lebon Peace prize nomination with this formula."
"I’m sure you’ll get everything you deserve," Aislyn said sweetly, the last of her amusement fleeing. What about her contribution? She was the fairy putting life and limb in danger. Straight to the bottom of the list, she decided, having already designed her own criteria for tests. Politeness from the scientists helped, but color, consistency, and aroma of said anti-cat product all played a crucial part in determining the pecking order.
The fairy gave her a sharp look, as if he wasn’t quite sure of her sincerity. He sniffed loudly then pranced off leaving Aislyn alone. Good. She had things to do.
* * * *
At precisely one minute past eight the next morning, Aislyn gathered her luggage together, trying to think if she’d forgotten anything. Her two bags, stacked next to the door of the room she’d appropriated as an office, were stuffed full of everything she owned so all she needed to do was finish sorting out the anti-cat products. Under normal circumstances, she’d return for weekends and days off, but because of her misdemeanors, she had to stay human side. Murphy said so.
Aislyn stuck her hands on her hips, cocked her head to one side, and made an abrupt gobbling sound. "Until you can act with the dignity and comportment as befits a female fairy, you are banned from returning," she mimicked. She emitted a gobble then clapped a hand over her mouth to prevent the hysterical laughter that was backed up in her throat from bubbling out. Not that anyone from the colony would miss her, she thought sobering rapidly. When she’d gone to try to say goodbye to her family, her father had shouted she was a disgrace then slammed the door in her face. She no longer had a family.
"You look as though you’re ready."
"Seamus! Ah ... you’re early." Aislyn spun to face him and almost tripped over a stack of boxes containing cat deterrents. He hadn’t heard, had he? Aislyn flicked an errant curl from her eyes. "My personal gear is ready, but I need a bit longer to organize the stuff the scientists have given me to test."
Seamus pushed away from the doorjamb and sauntered into the box-filled room. Aislyn eyed him with alarm. Either he was big or the room had shrunk. Heart-pumping awareness made her gulp and back up until a wall of boxes stopped her retreat. From under lowered lashes, she studied Seamus covertly. Was there a chance for her--a romantic chance now that she’d see more of him? Then she remembered Christel, and her confidence plummeted down to her big toes.
"Where is the stuff?" Seamus demanded. "I’ll help so we can get away early. I have a busy day."
Aislyn sucked hoarsely for air as Seamus stalked closer. She gulped, barely restraining from fanning her face to relieve the sudden build up of heat. "In there." Her hand sliced toward the right to indicate the door leading to the adjoining room.
Seamus shouldered the door open then came to an abrupt halt. His gaze whipped to Aislyn then back to the multitude of boxes that filled the over sized storage room. "You’re kidding." His stormy gray eyes swept back, fixing her in place. "Tell me you’re kidding."
"Nope." Aislyn smiled brightly, refusing to be cowed by his short temper. "Part of the contract, remember? Punishment for the rebel fairy."
"We’ll see about that." Seamus stomped from the room. Seconds after he disappeared, a door crashed against the wall. "Murphy," he roared. "Murphy!"
When Seamus stormed back, the commander and Murphy were practically hanging off the back of his navy polo shirt.
"Have you seen the amount of potions Aislyn’s meant to test?" He planted his hands on his hips, and aimed a hard-edged glare at the two cowering fairies. "Have you?"
The commander stepped forward, urged on by Murphy’s sharp nudge in the middle of his back. "I checked with the head scientist. Everything is going according to plan." The way he poked his head up, and a little further out of his shirt reminded Aislyn of her Aunt Maggie’s pet tortoise. "He assured me there wasn’t much for the O’Sullivan female to do. If she’s trying to wriggle out of the deal then she can think again. Zounds, the female’s being punished, not going on a four star, all expenses paid holiday."
Indignation thrust her into the conversation. "I’m not trying to wriggle--"
"Aislyn, I’ll handle this."
Aislyn snapped her mouth shut. Fine. She edged back against the wall and folded her arms against her chest. Let the males sort it out.
"Take a look through there," Seamus ordered, indicating the door into the storeroom with a slash of his hand.
The commander, once again urged on by Murphy, opened the door and stepped inside. "Holy heck," he muttered, stopping short.
Murphy’s hearty gobble echoed through the packed room before spilling back out to Aislyn. She bit down on her bottom lip, trying to catch her amusement before it escaped and snagged her trouble big time.
"It’s not that bad," Murphy said in gross understatement.
"How are we meant to ship this stuff human side without the humans noticing?" Seamus roared. "We’re meant to integrate, not stand out like males in a sewing circle. That’s why the use of magic is banned human side. You know what would happen if the humans discover our existence."
What? What would happen? Aislyn looked from face to face, willing one of the males to speak. Intense curiosity finally impelled her to ask. "What would happen?"
"We’ll be kept in cages like pet monkeys," the commander snapped. He turned his back on her, treating her like a misbehaving fairling. "What do you suggest? You can hardly blame the scientists. They’re excited since they haven’t had an opportunity like this before."
"A female has never left the colony before," Murphy said.
"I know," Seamus snapped. "But that’s no reason for everyone to get carried away. Aislyn’s work will be difficult enough as it is."
Aislyn saw the commander and Murphy exchange a panicked glare. They were probably upset at the idea of something going wrong, forcing them to keep her in the colony. Her gaze zapped to Seamus. He didn’t look as if he cared one way or the other. Since their day spent together on the human side all she seemed to do was make him angry.
"Assign Aislyn an administrative fairy to liaise with her from the colony. They can communicate via the Guardian’s pouch. The assistant can send one carton of anti-cat measures once a month for Aislyn to test. She can’t do a proper job of testing the potions if she’s hurried. A new batch once a month is plenty."
"But what about the funds?" Murphy wailed. "The budget is overstretched as it is."
"I’ll campaign the Guardian," Seamus snapped. "Can we hurry? I have a meeting human side."
Murphy gaped at Seamus. "But you are--"
"Let Seamus take care of it," the commander interrupted.
The strange, fleeting look that crossed Seamus’s face made Aislyn stare.
Murphy let out an apologetic gobble. "I have to go." He scampered out the door and down the passage as though his tail feathers were on fire.
"Yes, well," the commander said.
"Do we have an agreement?" Seamus demanded,
There was some silent communication going on between the males. Aislyn had no idea what was happening but she knew one thing. She did not intend having an arrogant, no-it-all male assistant foisted on her.
"I want a female fairy to assist me."
"Whatever. The commander will sort it out this end. We’ll take on box with us today."
Seamus bit back a curse. Hell’s teeth. Was nothing simple? It was bad enough that he had to escort Aislyn from the colony, but he had to deal with politics as well. He waded into the storage room and snatched up a green carton at random. "We’ll take this one with us today. Aislyn, grab your bags. I need to pick up the Guardian’s pouch, then we can head for the transport area.
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