The Key

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The Key Page 14

by Pauline Baird Jones


  Carey gave a half snort, half laugh. “Not even close, Donovan. Your table dance is going to haunt me for a long time.”

  “I was not dancing. I was…walking with attitude.”

  Briggs clasped his hands behind his back. “Good thing we’ll have the video to remind us of your…walk.”

  Sara’s eyes widened. “No…”

  Briggs grinned. “Security measure. Some days, life is just…good.” He turned and strolled away, humming I Am Woman.

  “Yeah, some days life is just great,” Sara muttered. Over the top of her head, Fyn mouthed to Carey, can I get a copy?

  He nodded and gave him a thumbs up.

  Apparently Sara decided to change the subject. “Would it help the colonel if I went back?”

  Carey looked at her. “Probably. But he can take care of himself. You don’t really want to, do you?”

  She leaned against Fyn’s arm.

  “I was on duty all night. And I think I’m back on tomorrow.”

  He looked at her. “Go get some rest, Donovan. Sleep well, knowing you have been the bright spot in an otherwise dull day.”

  Sara nodded. “Right. Glad I could help out. Really.”

  Carey grinned, then nodded at Fyn. “See you.”

  Fyn nodded back, watching him leave them alone. Well, as alone as anyone could be on this ship.

  He slid his hand around her waist, marveling at the softness of the fabric of her dress. It was so thin, he could feel the warmth of her skin through it. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but it all seemed wrong.

  “I like the dress.”

  She smiled. “I guess I don’t mind it as much as I thought I would. I had no idea it would be such a…hit. Evie would have gotten a kick out of it.”

  He could see the day’s tensions sliding out of her, leaving her looking as soft as the dress, though unfortunately tired.

  “Let’s get you back to your quarters.” It was probably for the best. She was way too tempting like this. Considering how tempting she was in her uniform, it was a lot of tempting.

  They walked slowly, a necessity with those shoes. Sara didn’t seem to mind, or notice, he left his arm around her waist, his hand at the curve of her hip and waist.

  At her door, she turned to smile up at him, tiredness draining animation from her face, but not her appeal. For a rare moment, they were alone in the corridor. Fyn cupped her face with his hand. He was almost afraid to kiss her. She was different like this, more dangerous to his self control.

  “I’m sorry I’m flaking out on you. You could come in and watch a movie or something, if you don’t mind my snoring.”

  “If I came in now, that gossip might come true.”

  A bit of color tinged her cheeks to pink. “I’m not sure I could stay awake.”

  He grinned and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  “Good night.”

  Sara’s hand snaked up his chest and around his neck, tugging him down.

  “I’m not that tired.”

  But she was, so Fyn kept it gentle. “Go to bed, lady in red, before I forget we’re not bond mates.”

  “We call it marriage,” Sara said, stopping to look at him over her shoulder. “And this,” she pointed from him to her, “is called dating. At least, I think it is.”

  “Okay.” How did a man get from dating to marriage, he wondered, though he knew he shouldn’t.

  She turned back, reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  “You just ask,” she whispered, as if she’d read his mind. She stepped inside her quarters and the door slid shut between them.

  Six

  The next morning, Xever contacted the Doolittle, interested, he claimed in seeing Sara do a “throw out” with one of his men. Halliwell looked both amused and annoyed when he summoned Sara to tell her about it.

  “Can you take one of his guys?” he asked her.

  “Not if he’s built like Fyn.” Xever was just a bit under her height and a bit on the weedy side. His aides were slightly smaller copies. “I know I could take him, but I guess he’s afraid to get beat up by a girl.”

  “Maybe it’s a leader thing,” Carey said. “A Supreme leader thing.”

  “I’d really like you to take this guy,” Halliwell admitted.

  “Then I will, sir.” Sara tried to exude confidence.

  “You sure?” He looked worried now.

  “I won’t let our side down. Besides, they seem to need… enlightenment.” She smiled, forgetting to keep it cool or remote. “Might as well learn it from a…drama queen.”

  Halliwell chuckled. “You’re turning out to be quite the surprise, Captain.”

  Sara kept her smile, but it wasn’t easy. He had no clue how surprising she could be.

  Since her squadron was on duty at twelve hundred hours, they decided to get the throw down done as quick as possible. In short order, Sara found herself in the exercise room, in exercise clothes, waiting for their arrival.

  Xever came in first, flanked by the two aides from last night. Sara schooled her face as she waited for her adversary. It was almost insulting when he finally came in. He was about her height, with a sandy complexion and a sturdy build. He didn’t look happy.

  Unless he had hidden depths, this was going to be a cakewalk.

  She exchanged a glance with Fyn. His eyes warned her not to make assumptions. She gave a slight nod.

  “Captain.” Xever walked up to her, his face lighting up when he saw her.

  Sara had her hands clasped behind her back, just in case he got grabby again. “Good morning, sir.”

  “This is Hama Colec. Colec, this is Captain Donovan.”

  Colec’s head sort of moved, but he didn’t speak. His eyes dismissed her. Apparently no one had warned him not to make assumptions.

  “Would you like a few minutes to warm up?” Sara asked him.

  His brows arched. He looked down his nose. “I am ready.”

  “Really? We thought you might like to—”

  “I am ready.” It clearly annoyed him to have to speak to her twice in one minute.

  Sara looked at Carey and Halliwell. They both shrugged and nodded. Sara gestured for him to step out on the mat.

  He nodded sharply and turned his back on her. He shouldn’t have. Sara hit him on the back of the neck with her elbow. He went down without a sound. She waited a minute, but he didn’t get up. She hadn’t really expected him to.

  Kilburn sputtered a bit before he managed to get out, “That was hardly fair—”

  Sara just looked at him, one brow arching slightly, then looked away, rolling her eyes.

  “He said he was ready.” Carey signaled to a couple of men to move him off the mat. “First rule of the throw down, never turn your back on your opponent.”

  Sara knew Xever was looking at her. She could feel it.

  “He probably needs a doctor,” Kilburn said.

  “It is a hard head,” Xever said, clearly amused. “It will recover more quickly than his pride.”

  “If you’d like to see the Captain spar with someone who is ready for her,” Halliwell said, “we’ve got time before she goes on duty.”

  “Please.”

  Sara looked at Fyn, and he nodded, moving out onto the mat.

  He didn’t make the mistake of turning his back on her.

  Sara, showing off, did a series of back walkovers to her spot across from him.

  “But he is—” Xever sounded shocked.

  “He won’t hurt her…much.” Carey had his feet planted and his arms crossed over his chest. He looked prepared to enjoy himself.

  Thanks for the vote of confidence, sir.

  “Ten bucks says I can knock him down.” Sara started to circle. She knew she couldn’t keep him down without doing more damage than the moment called for.

  Fyn grinned, but Sara noticed he shifted his shoulders, as if to loosen them up.

  “You’re on.”

  “I’m in, too,” Halliwell said.

&nb
sp; “I’ll put ten on Chewie to stay on his feet.”

  “Me, too.”

  Sara wasn’t sure who was talking and couldn’t afford to look and see. It was enough to know they were all betting against her. She was at her best when she had something to prove.

  “My ten’s on the girl.”

  That was Briggs. She wasn’t surprised he’d bet on her. He’d seen her knock Fyn down already.

  Fyn made a move and she managed to dodge it and his third arm didn’t get her this time. She knew his moves better. He thought he knew hers.

  She did a few things she’d done before, hoping to lure him into a false sense of security. He didn’t seem too lured. He sent her flying. She was up again and going back in, watching and waiting for the right moment.

  Finally she got it. She did a hand stand, just like before, like she was trying to catch him on the chin with her feet, but he sent her sailing through the air—again, like before, only a little higher this time, thank you very much. She did the mid-air somersault, but when her feet hit the mat, instead of a spring forward, she put her hands on the mat, whipping forward, but with her body bent, her legs well below his hands, like a side ways windmill.

  Her feet came together just right and hit him hard in the mid-section. Even a tree—or a Chewie—goes down with the right hit to the right spot.

  The plan was to sail on past him.

  Fyn had other plans.

  As he went back his arms locked around her, bringing her down with him. They both hit the mat hard. Should have knocked what wind he had left out of him, but he used her own momentum to turn her, so they were eye to eye when he reversed their positions and pinned her to the mat.

  She was down for good.

  But so was he.

  “Nice move,” he told her.

  She was panting a bit. “Thank you. You had some new stuff, too.”

  Carey leaned over them both. “I thought you had him, Donovan.”

  “I’m optimistic that I’ll…get him in time, sir.” There was getting and then there was getting. And sometimes losing was…winning.

  Fyn grinned, like he knew what she was thinking.

  “Where did you learn those moves?”

  “High school gymnastics,” Briggs said for her.

  “And the girls’ bathroom,” Sara added.

  “Really?” Carey looked surprised. “Tough room.”

  Sara shrugged. “You have no idea.”

  She felt Fyn chuckle and grinned at him.

  Carey straightened. “I think some people owe you and Briggs some money.”

  “You’re one of them,” Sara pointed out.

  Fyn rolled off her and up in a smooth movement, then held out a hand to Sara, pulling her to her feet as easily as if she were a feather.

  Halliwell was grinning, despite the lost bet. “Bravo Zulu, Donovan, you, too, Fyn.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Fyn just nodded.

  “Impressive.” Xever looked thoughtful and a bit amused. “You are, of course, at a disadvantage against a larger opponent.”

  “I’m only at a disadvantage against Fyn.” Sara thought for a moment. “And Briggs. And that’s only because I can’t kill them. In a fight to death, all bets are off.”

  She gave him her steely-eyed killer look. His eyes widened a bit.

  “You spar with Briggs?” Halliwell’s brows shot up. “I think I’d like to see that.”

  Sara looked at Briggs, her eyes loosing killer for panic. He looked at her. His eyes narrowed. Briggs looked at his watch.

  “I’m late.”

  Sara tried not to smile as he jetted out the door, well, the Briggs version of a jet. The colonel turned his attention to her. She swallowed nervously.

  “I probably should go, too, sir. I haven’t had breakfast yet and I’m on duty…soon. I never eat before I spar…because it makes me power puke—” Way too much sharing. She flushed. “Sorry, sir.”

  The Old Man managed not to smile, but before he could say anything, Xever spoke.

  “I was wondering if I might have a word with you, Captain.”

  A pool of silence formed, flowing out from him to everyone in the room.

  Xever looked around, like a veranda might pop up out of the deck. Good thing it didn’t. She’d left her parasol back on earth. Not to mention her freaking hoop skirt.

  “Alone,” he added.

  Sara felt her eyes get so wide, they dried out. She made herself blink. It didn’t help much.

  A host of gazes turned his direction, most of them not happy.

  “Of course, sir,” Kilburn said. “That’s fine, isn’t it, Colonel?”

  “That’s up to the Captain.” The Old Man’s voice had a bite to it.

  The Captain wanted her breakfast.

  She looked at Xever. He had a way of looking pleasant and kind of innocuous, but Sara sensed a strong will, perhaps even ruthlessness lurking under the surface. She really didn’t want to be alone with him, but she couldn’t think of a good reason to say no. After a long, awkward pause, she looked at her watch.

  “I don’t have much time before I go on duty.”

  It wasn’t a yes, but Xever acted like it was. He must have heard the reluctance in her voice, but he still smiled at her with way too much enthusiasm.

  Not that he said anything. He just watched her quietly as the room cleared. She clasped her hands behind her back, and with her feet planted, gave him a coolly inquiring look.

  “Yes, sir?”

  He smiled at her. “Call me Adin.”

  That sounded like an order.

  “No.” Kind of abrupt, so she added, “You’re a head of state. It would be inappropriate and disrespectful.”

  “Even when we are alone?”

  “Especially when we’re alone.”

  A hint of frustration appeared in his calm eyes.

  “May I call you Sara?”

  “You’re a Supreme Leader, you can call me anything you want.” If he didn’t let her eat soon, he’d be calling her bitch. If he knew what that was.

  His gaze was calm…but Sara could feel something bubbling just below the surface. It reached out to her, as if he could will her into feeling it, too. As if he could use his…personal power…to bend her will to his. But where did he want to…bend it?

  “Sara.” His tone made it a caress. “Will you dine with me this evening?”

  Okay. Wasn’t expecting ET to want a date. “What?”

  “I would like to introduce you to our food, our ways. Get to know you…better.”

  “No.” She didn’t even pretend to think about it. “Thank you.”

  A short pause.

  “May I ask why?”

  Sara picked one reason. “I’m on duty.”

  “Tomorrow night?”

  “Booming. And then on duty again.” She decided it was time to go on the offensive. “But even if I were free, I couldn’t…dine with you. No way the colonel’d let me jet over to your ship for a gut bomb. Add to that, you’re a head of state and I’m not. I don’t know why you’d want to…dine with me.”

  She produced a puzzled look. She’d used it a lot with her past principals when they were being unreasonable.

  He was quiet a moment. “If you could think of me as a man—”

  “Nope. Can’t get past the whole Supreme Leader thing.” She blinked a couple of times. “Maybe it’s the Supreme part? It’s so…well, supreme.”

  His lips twitched. “What would you suggest?”

  Sara picked the least offensive suggestion she could think of. “Now that you’ve been Supreme, be a step down to just be a plain, old leader.” She looked at him steadily now. “You probably need to find a chick that’s equally supreme to dine with, someone used to running in supreme circles.”

  He stepped closer to her, not all the way in her personal space, but definitely violating her perimeter.

  “But I…want you.” His eyes didn’t change, but there was a timbre to his voice that she wou
ld have had to be a rock not to feel…something. “I find you…supremely…lovely.”

  Right. And he had also had a bridge on some desert planet to sell her. Just how stupid did he think she was? This was so about her likeness to Miri and so not about her mythical beauty. For a long, tense moment she stared at him.

  “I have to go.”

  She started to step back and he grabbed her arm.

  “Sara—” He stepped close enough for her to feel the heat from his body and now she could feel the leashed power that had gotten him to supreme leader. He hesitated, as if not sure what to say next.

  Sara already knew what to say. “Let me go.”

  “Please,” his head tilted to the side and his slight smile was almost shy, “call me by my name. Just once. That is not so hard, is it?”

  His grip on her wrist softened as one finger stroked the inside of her wrist. But it was the appeal in his voice that spoke to her, spoke to the part of her that understood feeling shut out. Maybe being a leader was as isolating as being a freak.

  He edged slightly closer. “Adin,” he prompted her again, as if he sensed her uncertainty.

  “Adin.” As soon as it left her mouth, she knew it was a mistake. She could feel the…heightened connection it made between them.

  He smiled, the kind of smile a man gave a woman he thought was going to be his lover.

  “That was not so hard, now was it?” His voice was as caressing as his gaze. His fingers grazed her cheek and she shivered at the contact, half repulsed, half…not. His hand settled at her waist and he halved the space that separated them.

  Her gaze narrowed. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  She could feel him looking at her mouth and had to force herself not to lick her lips.

  “Are you married?” She didn’t know where the question came from, but it felt right to ask it. And it helped clear her head and cool the heat Adin was trying to start inside her.

  “I don’t understand.” A wary light mixed in with all the other emotions in his eyes.

  “Do you have a woman you’ve had mini Supreme Leaders with? Someone that shares your supreme leader digs? That you committed to in some legal ceremony?”

  He hesitated. “I have a bond mate.”

  “That would be married in my culture. And the women on your ship? One of them yours, too?”

 

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