The scientists from Keya's group had been huddled in the same spot for a long while, chaperoned by Alix. In the past hour, a few had gotten bolder in their food and drink choices. Their reactions to each new platter and tray of beverages were enough to occupy Malachi’s attention, but he was more interested in how the other passengers attended to the feckless academics. As far as he could tell, no one found them as interesting as he did.
Malachi bit into one of the perfectly cured green olives from his drink, his eyes drifting closed. It tasted like the summers of his childhood, rich and warm with a soft peppery finish. His lips quirked in a half smile.
Keya walked in head high, shoulders back. She slowed to gaze around the room, the hesitation resembling the graceful pause of a queen. She nodded to Alix and received a nod in return. Malachi forced himself to stay seated, curious about how the ex-military security professional would behave in this setting. She wore a halter-style gold column dress that warmed the cool beige of her bare arms. One side of her hair was pulled into a simple gem-encrusted gold clip. Her lips were painted a deep red, but the rest of her face appeared free of cosmetics. She looked perfectly in tune with the environment and also perfectly in tune with herself. The combined effect mesmerized him.
Then her gaze met his and those deep red lips curved into a tiny smile of recognition. Fire licked along the nerves of his hands, his throat, and his belly. As she walked toward him—the folds of her gown swaying with the movement of her hips—he made a bet with himself about a pistol and at least one knife strapped underneath her skirt. The thought of running his hands over her toned thighs, even just to confirm the presence of weapons, brought other parts of his body to life as well.
"Mr. Cartier, I'm here for our business meeting. Looks like you started without me." She nodded to his glass.
"It would be out of place to sit here with nothing on the table." He gave her his best playboy grin.
"Quite a range of choices between nothing and a top-shelf martini," she replied, “May I?”
Malachi inclined his head, curious to see if she would like the drink.
Keya leaned across the table and took a sip from his glass. "Oh my, that's the good stuff all right." She pulled the second of the three olives from the sparkling toothpick with her teeth. Malachi could not look away as her eyes widened with pleasure while she chewed. It was impossible to be unaffected, so he let himself stare.
"All the way up here, I worked out a plan where I was drinking water and keeping my wits about me. But that drink is..."
"Perfect," he said, rising to his feet. He stepped out of the booth and gestured for her to slide in. "Please join me."
She turned sideways and revealed the open back of the dress that plunged straight to her waist.
Their tryst in Boulder had been far too short, a hot, quick coupling that left him wanting more. More suddenly shifted into a specific set of tasks that included kissing his way up her spine and licking the skin between her shoulder blades.
Fortunately a server in a pristine white uniform jacket glided up to their table. "Mademoiselle, how may I serve you this evening?" he asked.
Keya took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. "I'd like a glass of your best water, with a slice of lime."
"And for you, sir?" The server nodded to Malachi.
"Two more of these”—he tapped his drink—“with a side dish of the olives. And caviar, the house specialty, please."
"Very good, sir."
As the silence settled, he looked at Keya. Her intelligent eyes sparked with a challenge.
"Business meeting," she prompted.
Malachi narrowed his eyes. "Ambience," he countered.
"Data scans and test results were promised," she said.
"Hmm, was an exact time of delivery noted as well? For the data, I mean." She made him want to play, her dark eyes alight with laughter despite her serious expression.
"That was my error," she said. "I negotiated a meeting time but not a time for the delivery of the promised data."
He shifted closer, the soft leather accommodating his movement. "In the future, I suggest you ask for exactly what you want. It’s important to be specific in negotiations."
She tilted her chin and pursed her lips as though considering the question. "I want to know if you remember me from Boulder."
After a slow nod, he took another sip of the drink. "I do," he said.
Her eyes widened. "Then why didn't you say some—"
"No," he said. "The question must be specific." He waited a beat, enjoying the emotions flitting across her face. "My turn. Is that dress available for purchase or is it only a rental?"
With a wry shrug she said, "I don't know."
"You should find out. Buy it if you can. It looks stunning on you."
Keya ducked her chin just enough to break eye contact. "Thank you. The ship's virtual assistant picked it out. The whole thing, hair, lipstick, dress, shoes."
"Well, I know I speak for every interested party in the room when I say that is a damn fine use for AI."
Her laugh was throaty and genuine. "Agreed," she said, just as the drinks arrived.
"Two martinis, side dish of olives. The caviar will be out shortly." The waiter placed each item on the table as he said its name. With a final nod he glided away.
"What if I wanted a dish of strawberry ice cream?" Keya asked, watching the waiter go.
"Is that what you want?" Malachi knew he was heading into dangerous territory, but this woman tempted him like no other. He wanted to stroke the soft skin of her cheek, to feel her hair across his chest. And he wanted to talk with her.
He'd researched her a little after Boulder but didn't want anyone to come across his searches. Didn't want anyone else knowing about his interest in Keya Murakami. An absolute lack of privacy was one of the drawbacks of his current employment.
"I want to know..." she took a healthy swig from one of the martinis, "what you look like under that tux."
Rather than do anything so obvious as adjust the front of his trousers, he bought time by sipping his fresh drink. "That is a very specific request."
"When we were together, it was a new moon. Very dark outside on my patio. And I thought you might've had a tattoo.” She touched his left shoulder next to his collarbone. "I tried to draw it, but I never saw the detail."
Malachi looked directly into her eyes. "I remember the feel of your skin against mine. I remember the smell of your hair." I remember how good it felt to be inside you, he added silently. "And, with regard to your question, I am available to remove my tuxedo as soon as my business meeting concludes."
With a thoughtful nod, she said, "It's an important meeting. With data. For my job." She shifted the martini glass toward his side of the table and picked up her water.
Giving a reciprocal nod, Malachi activated a private viewing port in their table and called up the test results from the cargo hold. He walked her through the measurements, pleased at how quickly she grasped the concepts and the underlying tech that supported the Earth's first united front against alien invasion.
The caviar arrived just as he laid out his initial conclusions. "These artifacts come from the same alien species that made the mark in Boulder, and it’s the same species that was in the cargo hold today. The readings are more than consistent enough to make a match."
She'd sipped only water during his explanation but the caviar had her attention. She looked at the small silver dish sitting in its own basin of ice as she said, "Aliens are on LS Quantum and gained access to my client's allegedly secure and private cargo hold."
"Yes, without a doubt. If I were to speculate, I would say at least one alien took your missing crate, helped itself to the artifact it wanted—"
"The one they're calling the Rosetta Stone."
"Yes. And knocked you out until it replaced the crate."
She frowned at that. "You have evidence I was knocked out?"
"What you said about the tuning fork at the bas
e of your skull was consistent with similar encounters. And just as you reported, people wake up from those encounters unharmed and feeling refreshed."
Ready to get back to their earlier conversation, Malachi scooped a spoonful of caviar and placed it on a perfectly toasted triangle of bread. Instead of putting it on her plate, he held it to her lips. "Ready for a taste? The guidebook was effusive."
She took a small bite, eyes twinkling. "So good," she said.
Popping the rest into his mouth, he nodded his approval. "Just as good, if not better, than the martini."
Keya's eyes flicked to her martini and back to her water. With a small smile, she picked up the martini glass and said, "Here's to the best business meeting of the month."
"Wonderful working with you," Malachi said. "Are you satisfied with the data?"
“I need to know more about this species of aliens. My task is to keep the sultan and his people secure.” Her vixen’s smile faltered.
Malachi did some quick calculations in his head along the lines of what level of data sharing would get him fired versus earn a stern reprimand. “I’ll transfer the pertinent files now, shall I?”
Shoulders relaxing, Keya let out a breath. “Thank you.”
“The cargo bay has been secured by LS Quantum security. If your principals aren’t here—”
“They’re in quarters,” Keya finished. She keyed a quick sequence and the display changed. “Confirmed in quarters.”
A respite in the middle of an operation was a precious gift. It was delightful to realize he had no idea what Keya would do next.
Moving with slow deliberation, she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze and reached for the olives.
It was reach for the olives or climb into Malachi's lap. He was so intensely sexy that she took it as a significant accomplishment she'd retained a single iota of the information he’d shared. Most days Keya assessed her appearance as somewhere between acceptable and pretty. In her profession, anything beyond pretty became a liability anyway. But when Malachi looked at her, she felt not only attractive but also desirable.
Technically she was working, she reminded herself. Holt was in the infirmary, and Alix had waved again as they walked into the cabaret accompanying about a dozen of the scientists.
Why had she made that comment about seeing Malachi naked? Besides the fact that she really wanted to see him naked.
Another bite of caviar on toast hovered in front of her mouth. "Fish eggs for your thoughts," Malachi said, his eyes crinkling with humor.
She took the bite, helpless to do anything but comply. The salty spheres burst as she chewed, releasing a complex flavor different from anything she'd tasted. "I was thinking about how much I like this lounge," she lied.
"I was thinking about how many weapons you've got hidden under that skirt," he said. One hand dropped to the seat between them and tugged on the golden fabric. "Got a little bet going with myself."
Her heart rate jumped and she forgot to breathe, unable to look away from her skirt inching up her leg. She swallowed hard. “I do work in personal security. Hidden weapons are standard practice." Her voice sounded husky, breathy.
"I remember what your shoulders looked like in starlight, but I regret I didn't see your thighs." The skirt went higher, over her knee. "As I expected, beautiful. Strong." One warm finger traced the lacy holster. "And a pistol held by such a feminine band. We must purchase our holsters at different shops."
He leaned closer, but she kept her hands on the table, not wanting to ruin the moment. His light touch traced lines of heat across her skin that radiated to her core. "Evening wear does require certain specialty items," she managed. His hand shifted to her other leg, his side pressing against hers. He smelled so good; she inhaled deeply, her nose almost touching his neck.
The dress rose in the center now. The professional part of her mind noted that her exposed thighs were hidden from public view by the tablecloth, but Keya almost didn't care. Malachi's hand tapped the knife that was strapped to her other thigh and then stroked down to her knee.
"Is it wrong that I want to see you naked except for these weapons?" he murmured.
"Not if our meeting has concluded," she said, breathing the words into his ear.
He shifted to look into her eyes. "Are you satisfied?"
"No," she said. "I am not."
Nearly every table was full, but more wait staff circulated with the exact right balance of attentiveness and distance. With a small wave, Malachi summoned their waiter.
"Sir?"
"What champagne does the house recommend with the caviar?" Malachi asked.
The waiter gave three options. Malachi chose one and asked for the caviar to be sent to Keya's room. He turned to her and asked, "What else would you like?" The question both lighthearted and loaded with meaning.
A slow smile curved her lips. "A bowl of strawberry ice cream."
Malachi slid to the edge of the booth, tugging her skirt down before he stood and offered his hand. "Thank you," he said to the waiter without taking his eyes off Keya.
Keya swished the dress once to settle the folds back into place. She'd never been more grateful for the etiquette and protocol course she'd taken as part of her preparation to be security for wealthy and famous clients. The ex-army girl from Boulder might not have known how to walk in these shoes or stand in this dress, but Keya, the poised security professional, knew exactly what to do. And more importantly, she knew exactly how she wanted to spend the next two hours.
When her escort held out his arm, she rested her fingers lightly on the fabric of his tuxedo jacket.
"We're going to your cabin due to the personal nature of your previous request. And because I have a suite mate," Malachi said.
"I appreciate your discretion in all things," she said, knowing he would understand her implication.
Two hours until LS Quantum dropped out of faster-than-light speed. Two hours until communications would be available. Two hours until she could check on Holt. Two hours to spend with her favorite fantasy.
Except Malachi was right here, not just a fantasy tonight. They had a bed instead of patio furniture. And this time, Keya was going to memorize every detail.
Nervous but committed to her plan, she opened the door to her cabin and waved Malachi inside. Her breaths were shallow and her heart galloped as she called up the virtual keyboard to adjust the settings in the room.
He traced one finger down her spine. When his lips pressed a firm kiss just below the single strap of her halter, she startled and then melted a little as his tongue followed the same path to the center of her back.
"Allow me," he said, and reached for the virtual keyboard. With a series of quick keystrokes, the holowalls took on the look of the Comets and Caviar Lounge. The cabin lights rounded and glowed a soft pink.
"You wanted to take off your tux in the lounge?" she said, arching an eyebrow.
A soft chime announced that their food and champagne had arrived. A panel directly above her caf dispenser slid back to reveal two glasses, a bottle in a silver ice bucket, a fresh serving of caviar and toast points, and a perfect scoop of strawberry ice cream in a sculpted glass dish.
"Hold and maintain exact temperatures, please," Malachi said. Another chime sounded and the panel slid closed. He dropped his hands onto her shoulders and gently turned her to face him. "When you walked into the lounge, I wanted to lay you on the table and feast."
Keya's breath caught at the image he painted. "I wanted to take off your jacket and unbutton your shirt," she said. "That would be more challenging to accomplish from the table."
"Indeed," he said inclining his head to brush his lips against hers, then tugged her closer, deepening the kiss, parting her lips with his tongue. He tasted like olives and heat. Forcing herself to pay attention, she ended the kiss and pressed her lips to the light stubble along his jawline. She rubbed her cheek against his, remembering rougher stubble in Boulder. Slipping her hands inside his tuxedo jacket, she eased it
off his shoulders. He shrugged to let it glide down his arms.
Taking a step back, he laid the jacket neatly over a chair. "Look at me, Keya," he said, reaching for the top button of the crisp white shirt. "I'm going to give you what you asked for."
His intense expression shifted to a cheeky grin as the first few buttons opened. He tugged the shirttail from his waistband, uncovering a tantalizing hint of copper tan skin before continuing to open each button. Riveted, Keya studied Malachi's movements, his graceful fingers, and the curve of his cheekbones when he smiled at her. The last button came free and the shirt parted slightly, exposing a line of bare chest. But instead of shrugging off the shirt, he paused to unfasten his cufflinks.
When she reached out to touch the hollow at the base of his throat, he took another step back. "The request was to see me without my tux. To permit viewing of my tattoo, I believe." He tugged one sleeve and then the other, finally revealing his entire torso.
With a hard swallow, Keya realized just how much she'd missed in Boulder.
An intricate tattoo wound up his side, around his bicep, and over his shoulder. She motioned for him to turn in a slow circle. "I want to see it all," she said, desire filling her command. At first glance, it looked like an abstract pattern of diamond and triangle shapes. But as she stepped closer, she saw the head of the snake curving toward his neck, just across the deltoid muscle. The tattoo suited him, but the rest of him was even more breathtaking, each muscle defined, black hair sprinkled across his chest and narrowing as it dipped to his belly button.
The tuxedo trousers fit his trim waist and Keya wondered about his ass. "I wish we'd taken more time," she whispered. "Before, I mean."
He turned enough to kiss her, a soft press of his lips. Looking down at her he said, "Do you want to touch me, Keya?"
"Yes," she said, sure she hadn't wanted anything more in her entire life.
"Say it."
She inhaled and let it out on a soft sigh. "Malachi Cartier, I want to touch you."
"And then it's my turn," he said as she ran her hands down his arms, electricity tingling through the connection between her palms and his skin.
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