“Enter.” It was definitely Sakkra’s voice, but he sounded distracted.
Amy pushed through the door and examined the room before closing it behind herself. It was a large office with four-foot-high screens along one wall and bookshelves lining two of the others. A large tapestry depicting a Sakk man and woman holding hands took up much of the last wall. The furnishings consisted of a conference table surrounded by ten cushioned chairs and a desk with two guest chairs and one chair behind it...currently occupied by Sakkra.
He looked up, then startled and pushed to his feet. “Oh, I am so sorry.”
“You look busy.”
Sakkra glanced toward the paperwork and back to her. “You have given me many things to think about.”
“The ideas about mated couples staying on Earth?” she guessed.
“Among other things. Please, make yourself at home.” He motioned to the conference table. “I’ll call for the meal, and we’ll discuss your ideas.”
Amy headed to the table and removed her coat. She folded it over one of the chairs. On the other side of the room, she heard Sakkra speaking in the Sakk language.
She turned to look at him, smiling at the way he moved. He was graceful. Amy had never seen a man move the way he did. There was something nearly hypnotic about it.
He pressed a button on the board, then stood. His smile of welcome disappeared, and a heated look took its place.
Amy swallowed hard and took a step back. Maybe the choice of outfit hadn’t been prudent. She’d forgotten why the Sakk were looking for mates in the first place.
Sakkra straightened, and his expression smoothed into a strained smile. “You look lovely.”
She smoothed the dress over her fluttering stomach. “Thank you.”
He crossed the room toward her, and Amy forced herself not to retreat. That would offend him, she was certain.
Sakkra guided the chair to her left out and motioned her into it.
Amy struggled to remember the last time a man had held a chair for her. Certainly pre-Jason.
I will not think about Jason tonight. She took her seat with a nod of thanks, and Sakkra slid her closer to the table.
He didn’t join her immediately. Instead, he collected some papers and a pen from the desk.
“I thought the Sakk typically used...your version of computers,” she noted.
He took the chair across from her and settled the papers in front of him. “For most things, we do. I like making notes and drawings for myself on paper.”
A knock at the door interrupted them, and Sakkra shouted out an order for whoever it was to enter. Two Sakk warriors came in, pushing a cart laden with food between them. They set the table, then placed platters of food and pitchers of drinks between them. The two didn’t serve the food. They were gone with a quick snap of a bow, closing her in with Sakkra again.
****
Sakkra didn’t question that Amy Davidson was discomfited, but he wasn’t sure precisely why she was.
Quantifying his own discomfort was easy enough. The sight of her in the skimpy little black dress and the memory of her sleeping in his arms had rendered his cock hard and ready for a sexual encounter she wasn’t going to offer.
He started describing the types of food on the table. It was an innocuous enough discussion that he hoped would cause his cock to subside in disinterest. It didn’t.
Amy chose the rice dish and sautéed baby vegetables with a side of dark bread.
“I apologize that there are no meat dishes,” he offered.
“I don’t eat much meat. Mostly beef and fish.” She paused with the fork halfway to her mouth. “I suppose that makes sense, all things considered.”
Sakkra swallowed a mouthful of the vegetables. “It does, actually. Very few of the Sakk-descended we’ve found on Earth have been big meat eaters, and even those matches typically lose the taste for meat when they are carrying young. They may still eat fish, but rarely land animals or fowl.”
“Do you serve any fish or meat in the consulate?”
“Typically fish. We do occasionally serve beef or pork. We do not serve winged animals...for obvious reasons.”
“Well that makes sense.” She took another bite of the rice.
“We farm several types of Earth fish—at the consulates, aboard ship, and on Sakk itself—for the Earth-born matches. Introducing cattle and pigs to Sakk is more problematic, so we transport a small amount of frozen meat from Earth every month.”
She seemed to consider that, stirring her food idly with her fork. “This is another example of things I think the women need to know. There is the assumption that women who go to Sakk won’t have the things they like available to them when they leave Earth.”
“Like the fact that there are males without wings available to be mates.” He didn’t question it.
“Honestly, I never knew it, until I met Rietin. I naturally assumed that all men from Sakk were winged. All the advertising you do to entice women in shows winged men.”
Sakkra placed his fork on the table, his appetite waning at the wriggling apprehension in his stomach. “It was an oversight. We consider the fully-winged form ideal...beautiful. Not that we find those without wings lacking,” he hastened to add. The last thing he wanted to do was offend her.
“I think I understand. At some times in history, a well-rounded female was most attractive. At others, women who were thin to near emaciation was. The art from those times reflect whatever the preferred standard for beauty was at the time.”
“This is why we need your help so desperately. We make choices that match our sensibilities...our arts, but those choices have inherent messages to Earth-born that we do not intend to send.”
She pushed her plate away and reached for the paper and pen. “May I?”
Sakkra pushed them toward her. “Please.”
Amy turned a piece of paper to landscape orientation and started sketching. He rose and circled to her side of the table, watching the rough outlines appearing.
She started speaking. “You find the fully-winged form most appealing, so put two of those men center. Partially-winged—”
“Short flight,” he corrected her.
Her hand stopped sketching for a moment, then continued. “Sorry about that. Short flight. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“It’s not offensive. My apologies. It is simply the correct terminology.”
Amy turned to look at him. She offered a nod, then went back to drawing. “Short flight men further out. Then those with no wings. I would also choose men with a variety of hair...feather colors and eye colors. You tend to choose blond men. I hadn’t realized how varied they really were until I reached the consulate.”
He leaned closer to her. “To what end? Do women really choose men based on physical traits?”
“In part. You have to find something appealing in more than just shared interests. We want to impress upon women that there is a man to fit any given tastes.”
“I think I understand.” He hesitated before asking his next question. “And you believe allowing matches to stay on Earth would be advantageous as well?”
She didn’t hesitate. “I think it would. In more ways than one.”
“Because they won’t have to leave their lives and families,” he parroted back to her what Rietin had told him.
“That’s one advantage.”
“And the other?”
She set the pen down and looked up at him. They were close enough to kiss, and Sakkra’s mouth watered to do so.
This is a business meeting. A move like that would alienate her, and considering her tenuous relationship with the Sakk, that was the last thing he could risk.
“How many countries do you have consulates in?”
“Ten. We are in negotiation with seven more.”
Her smile made his heart thud against his ribs. Would that the smile was intended for him, he would consider himself lucky.
She has just lost her intended mate. She is
not seeking another at this time. Who knew how long it would take a female to recover from such a loss? Widows often chose not to take males to their beds for more than a yan after losing one.
“You’re already aware that some women might want to mate with a Sakk warrior to have a new world to explore.”
“Of course. Jannie made it very clear that linguists, botanists, biologists, archeologists—most types of scientists, healers, and sociologists—would find Sakk a treasure.”
“Some women have a similar ache to explore Earth.”
Sakkra considered that. “It is nothing to us to send shuttles from consulate to consulate. A matter of an hour or two of flight time. We do it often.”
“The countries you have consulates in today?”
“The United States, the United Kingdom, Germany, France, Italy, South Africa, India, the Ukraine, China, and Bermuda.”
Bermuda had been incredibly easy, compared to other agreements they’d made. With Sakk technology for purifying sea water or waste water into potable water, they’d only had to promise to produce two million liters of potable water a day and supply it for free to the Bermudan government for distribution to their population. With the Sakk providing more than a tenth of the daily water used on Bermuda, the little island had been most accommodating.
And that was before tourism increased by fifteen percent in the wake of the improvements the Sakk offered.
“You don’t realize what a gold mine you’re already sitting on.” Her tone was wistful.
“We are?” In truth, he wanted to hear her talk about a subject she was clearly so taken with.
“Have you ever heard of a honeymoon?”
“I am afraid not.”
“When humans marry, they often take a trip to celebrate. If you allow the human mates to travel anywhere you have consulates, it is an incredible gift. Some people never manage to travel as they would like to. Not to mention, nearly every country you named is a popular travel location for people in other countries.
“You’re not even limited to those locations. If you issued passports to the Earth-born Sakk-descended and their Sakk mates, you could make agreements to use the landing strips at military bases of Sakk allies on Earth or airports, and allow them to take day-trips by shuttle to other locations where you don’t have consulates. It would be a dream come true for some women.”
She stopped talking, her color high, her dark eyes glittering.
Sakkra was momentarily struck mute by the sight of her. At last he managed a nod and rushed to his side of the table. “I need to make notes. There is so much to be done. Sakk stationed locally who speak the languages could act as translators and guards for those stationed in other areas who don’t.” He realized he was rambling.
Amy sat, her arms crossed under her breasts, smiling widely.
“Would you care for a drink while we talk? Wine?”
She hesitated, her expression guarded. “One. I still have to drive home.”
Sakkra bit back the reminder that Rietin could drive her. “As you wish, of course.”
****
Amy paced the floor, fleshing out the idea of honeymoons on Earth with Sakkra.
The wine he’d offered was sweet but strong. It went to her head, and she’d decided walking the room was a good idea.
Amy looked over his shoulder, settling one hand on his back. The feathers on his wing teased her nerves, and memories of those wings wrapped around her brought completely inappropriate musings to mind.
Sakkra stiffened, then looked over his shoulder.
She backed away with a gasp, her cheeks burning. “I apologize. I take it touching your wings is...against some rule?”
“It is only done in certain circumstances.” He didn’t elaborate on what those circumstances might be.
He rose to his feet, facing her fully. His scent was far too appealing. Amy considered asking him what cologne or soap he used, but she suspected that was his natural scent.
I don’t need to know that. If I know it, I’ll want to investigate it.
“Have I made you uncomfortable, Ms. Davidson?”
“No.” Far too comfortable. “And please... Call me Amy.”
“Amy.”
His voice rumbled against her mouth, and visions of his lips closing on hers made her go weak in the knees.
“You seem tired,” he noted.
Not tired at all. Energized. But what she wanted was something she shouldn’t even be considering, especially not four days after losing her fiancé. “Yes. A bit.”
“Will you come again?” His gray eyes pleaded with her.
She swallowed hard, the double meaning hitting her full force. Amy didn’t doubt it would be easy to come with Sakkra. The man would doubtless be one hell of a lover.
Better than Jason ever was.
He means meeting to discuss the changes they’ll be making. She nodded. “Yes. I will.”
Sakkra raised her hand, laying a kiss on her knuckles. She gasped, and their eyes met.
The urge to kiss him was more than she could stand. Amy pulled her hand away and turned toward her coat. The moment she had it in her hand, she rushed toward the door.
“Can I walk you out?” he offered.
She stopped with her hand on the door handle. It wasn’t smart. Not smart at all. “Yes.”
****
Sakkra watched Amy pull out of the bunker, Rietin’s van trailing in her wake, his heart aching.
His cock wasn’t faring much better. The woman was enough to drive any man to madness.
And I’m inviting her into my company again? A woman who is determined not to choose a Sakk mate at all, let alone me?
Oh, but her scent and reactions said she might someday change her mind about that. Was it worth being driven half-mad if there was a chance of her choosing him? Or of her not changing her mind about leaving Earth?
“Yes. It is.” Sakkra didn’t question it.
Instead, he went back to his office and looked over the notes he’d made with Amy’s assistance. The surest way to make an impression on the lady was showing her he took her suggestions seriously.
He would order new advertisements immediately. Sakkra intended to have them in distribution before Amy visited the consulate again.
Chapter Twelve
The sound of Amy’s cell phone ringing dragged her from sleep.
Since she’d blocked Lucy’s cell phone, her home phone, her father’s home phone and cell phone, and every phone number associated with their formerly-shared employer—save Gary’s personal cell number, and since Amy didn’t pick up calls with ‘unavailable’ incoming numbers, the worst that could happen was that Lucy had purchased a disposable cell phone and was disturbing Amy’s sleep with it. She wouldn’t make it through to Amy, at any rate. If it came to Lucy playing those sorts of pranks, Amy would turn off her cell phone at night. Simple.
As if anything about this was simple.
She fumbled the phone from the nightstand and fought to focus on the caller ID on the screen, noting that the tone wasn’t an incoming call. It’s a message.
The ID came into focus slowly. “Jason.”
Her heart thudded against her ribs. Maybe he’s thought about it. Maybe he’s decided to go with me for testing.
Maybe he’s texting me to demand some other gift he’s given me back. Maybe he’s drunk and feeling spiteful.
There was no way to know but to open the message. Her hands shaking, Amy punched the button to do so. It wasn’t a text; rather it was a video message.
She considered closing it without watching whatever the video was.
No, it’s better if I know. Even if it was just more hate from Jason, it was better that she get it over with and write him off completely.
Amy muttered a curse and pressed the button.
It took a few heartbeats for what she was seeing to make it through the protective veil of disbelief. Jason was in his bed, on his back...naked. Lucy sat astride him, riding him.
Fucking my ex-fiancé. Less than a week after he dumped me! You bitch. You bastard. Damn you both!
She exited out of the video, cutting Lucy off mid-scream of ‘YES!’ Deleting the message wasn’t enough for her. She blocked both of Jason’s numbers, then his parents’ number. Amy threw the cell phone across the room with a sob.
“We’re done, fuckers. No turning back from here.”
That stated to the empty room, Amy curled to the bed, but now there was too much adrenaline in her system for her to sleep. She sighed, pushed from the bed, and made her way to her desk and the laptop. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well look for a new job.
And block Jason through email as well. She’d already taken that step with Lucy. Might as well finish the job.
****
“We’re done, fuckers. No turning back from here.”
Amy’s voice coming from the speaker next to his bed snapped Rietin awake. He threw back the blanket, then jumped from the mattress, wearing only a pair of knit shorts, cursing aloud at the fact that the speaker had gone silent.
“Replay last five minutes,” he ordered the security board’s voice recognition software. “Vocals and possible security risks only.” That would allow him to get an idea of the situation without wasting time with dead air. Hopefully.
A tone that could only be her cell phone sounded once. Then again.
“Jason.”
“Shit.”
The sounds that followed could have been a hard-core pornography video. Male grunts and shouts overlapped with a woman—not Amy—screaming out a litany of “Yes! Yes! Yes! Y—”
The sob that followed was likely Amy. A sharp sound that might have been her cell phone hitting the far wall of the room echoed it. The lack of separation between the sounds indicated that they were that close in reality as well.
Definitely Amy.
The curse that had woken him repeated.
Silence fell, potent in the stillness of the room. Before he could move, Amy’s muttering reached him over the speakers.
Real time. It took only a minute to decipher that she was talking to herself. About finding a new job and moving somewhere Lucy Ferguson can’t find her.
Unexpected Mates (Sons of Heaven) Page 13