Angelica didn’t trust the smile Tris gave her. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He nodded. “Have a pleasant evening. I’m downstairs if you need anything.”
***
Twenty minutes later she definitely needed something— her hands wrapped around Tristan DeHelios’ throat as she strangled him to death. With a snarl, Angelica jerked open the door to the interior staircase linking her apartment with that of Tristan’s and pounded down the steps. Slamming the door to his apartment open, she stormed into a spacious central room. Tris gazed up at her from a relaxed position on his sofa in front of a media display.
“You!” She pointed with her finger. “What do you mean I’m to address the AI as ‘Sir’?” Angelica eyed Tristan DeHelios with growing fury. She stabbed her pointing finger at him. “You programmed your features into the AI’s holographic display.” Stab .“You used your voice for the system’s verbal response.” Stab. “Every time I address the artificial intelligence that controls all the functions in my apartment, I must interact with a full-scale, true-to-life image of you. According to the command protocol you have configured, not only must I address the system as ‘Sir,’ I must ask for permission!” Stab. She threw her hands in the air and glared at him. She could just imagine standing in front of a three-dimensional image of Tristan saying, “Sir, may I please have the interior temperature at seventy-two degrees earth standard? Sir, may I please have a bath, water at eighty-four degrees earth standard?”
The outrageous man sat there and smiled at her, unperturbed. “S-I-R stands for ‘Synchronous Integral Response.’ I thought the acronym would be easier.”
“Normally, ‘computer’ works just fine.”
He laughed. “Where is the fun in that?”
“Change it, please.” She leveled a cool stare at him. “And the holographic display. I am not addressing your image as‘Sir’a hundred times a day.”
Tristan rose gradually to stand, hands on hips, and his eyes watched her face as if evaluating every tic of muscle. “After the greeting you gave DeKieran on arrival, I wouldn’t have thought that a problem for you.”
“You aren’t Lord DeKieran.” Her flippantretort felt good—for a nanosecond. Then, a hot flush of shame crawled her neck. He might as well be. The wretched man couldn’t know he provoked an identical response in her—the primary reason, she acknowledged, for her anger. Her heart thudded in her chest. In spite of her fury, Angelica dropped her eyes and studied the floor. As intently as he observed her, she couldn’t risk what he might see. She hugged herself tightly. “Please change the protocol.” She damned herself for the break in her voice.
After a short silence Tristan chuckled, a low, wicked sound born deep in his broad chest. “Sure. The change won’t be immediate. ‘Sir’ has already started learning. I’ll have to wipe and reprogram its intelligence. It will take the AI some time to incorporate the new input.” He took several steps toward her until she could see his bare feet. The trace of his finger along her jaw did disastrous things to her gut and obliterated her thought processes. “Anything else I can help you with, Angel?”
“May I leave now?” Her whisper stumbled out without thought. Oh, Goddess, I asked for permission.
“You may go.” He dropped his hand. She turned and fled.
Angelica felt ill. How could she have betrayed herself like that? When safely back in her apartment, she gave into the tears that threatened. She didn’t indulge herself for long. She refused to give her lapse that much importance. She still wanted a hot bath.
“Sir.”
Immediately, the life-size holographic image of Tristan DeHelios stood before her. He appeared much as he’d looked this morning and so life-like Angelica imagined she could smell his cologne.
“Yes, Dr. Angel?” His deep voice echoed in the stone-walled bathroom.
“May I please have a bath, water temperature one hundred degrees earth standard?”
“Yes, Dr. Angel… Dr. Angel, I detect emotional distress in your voice. My sensors indicate only you and Creator Tristan DeHelios, present in the residence. Are you under physical threat?”
“No, I am merely upset. Thank you, Sir.”
“Yes, Dr. Angel.”
“Sir?”
“Yes, Dr. Angel.”
“If I may ask, Sir, why do you call Tristan your creator?”
“Tristan DeHelios initiated my sentience and gave me my memories. Is ‘creator’ an incorrect appellation?”
“No. I suppose not. Thank you for the explanation.”
“You are welcome, Dr. Angel.”
With her favorite hot finger food arranged on a plate beside a carafe of her favorite wine, Angelica relaxed back into the warm water. Her thoughts kept returning to her unwanted attraction to Tristan DeHelios. He wreaked emotional havoc within her such that she’d unwittingly confirmed the truth about what she’d revealed that first day when she’d knelt before Lord DeKieran. A wave of helpless turmoil stirred at the thought that he was aware of her submissive nature. Her reaction to Ramsey DeKieran she attributed to her warm feelings for the man who’d rescued her from sexual slavery on Vxloncia, but what explained her response to Tristan?
After Vxloncia, she’d run all the neurological tests and psychological profiles recommended for the diagnosis of a damaged psyche. The results indicated only a moderate number of aberrant cerebral pathways. She’d had those repaired promptly. Afterward, her psychological and neurological tests had indicated stable thought processes and a well-integrated personality.
As hard as it was to acknowledge, the history of the past few years forced Angelica to confront the fact that she responded positively to inherently dominant men—the more dominant, the more she responded. She’d had brief relationships with men on Talleo IV—handsome, sensitive, caring, sophisticated males—all entirely forgettable. They’d never prompted so much as a tingle up her spine. With a long sigh, Angelica sank deeper into the hot water and sipped her wine. This must be who I really am. Now what? She needed a diversion, an outlet for the sexual tension building between her and Tristan. She sat up as a thought occurred to her. I still owe Captain DeLan a dinner. The handsome captain, a man she was already attracted to, would provide a definite distraction and quite possibly more. She smiled and poured more wine into her glass.
***
The next morning, Angelica held her head up and steeled herself to maintain eye contact with the fatally attractive male standing outside her door. The slight smile twisting the corner of his mouth and the appreciative gleam in his silver eyes did nothing to sooth her churning gut—or her aching head. She should never have finished that bottle of wine. Again, he held out a steaming cup of kaffé. “Good morning, Dr. Giverny,” he said with a nod.
Determined to leave behind their disastrous interaction of last night, she forced a smile. “Good morning, Mr. DeHelios. Thank you for the kaffé.” Angelica turned and started to walk down the path toward the medical center. Tristan fell in behind her right side. Her eyes remained focused ahead, but her body knew exactly where he was.
“Prince.”
“Excuse me?”
“Prince DeHelios. I’m not a mister.”
“No, you wouldn’t be so ordinary,” she muttered under her breath. Angelica paused and turned. She bestowed a brilliant smile on Tris. “I beg your pardon, Prince DeHelios.” She set her jaw at the condescending nod of his head. “I need some information.”
“I live to serve you, Dr. Angel.” Tristan’s smoldering gaze conveyed precisely the kind of service he’d like to perform. A frisson of something like fear tickled the nape of her neck.
Angelica sipped at her kaffé and examined the colorful flowers growing in the beds along the footpath. Her resolve to put last night behind her and behave in a normal fashion notwithstanding, she couldn’t hold his gaze.
“Will you please have someone get me the contact numbers for Captain Magellan DeLan of the VNV Revertar? I wo
uld like Captain DeLan’s personal number. My AI only had the port master’s.”
“Captain DeLan? What business do you have with Captain DeLan?” Tristan’s sharp question pulled her eyes from the flowers to his face.
“I promised him a dinner when we got to port.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Angelica felt a sliver of irritation. She didn’t owe Tristan DeHelios an explanation. She turned and resumed her walk down the path to the medcenter. Her bodyguard followed her silently.
Chapter Five
Captain DeLan, you have an incoming call from Dr. Angelica Giverny. Shall I accept the connection?” The husky female voice of the Revertar’s AI interrupted Mage’s tedious review of engineering diagrams.
“Thank you, Purity, connect the call.” The irony inherent in the name of the onboard AI still amused him. He suspected “purity” had no part in the activities aboard the former pleasure liner. The exotic features of Angelica Giverny appeared above his desk and he relaxed back into his chair and smiled. “Angelica, your lovely face is a distinct improvement over these technical drawings. I’ve missed our daily chats over kaffé. How are you?”
“Magellan.” Her extraordinary violet eyes softened into an expression of pleasure. Her generous mouth widened in a smile of genuine welcome. “Technical drawings? I hope I’m not calling at a bad time.”
“A call from the stunning Dr. Giverny, whose beauty is only surpassed by her intelligence, could never be at a bad time. I always enjoy talking to you.”
Her gentle laugh sent warmth to his lower body while her glorious eyes flirted with him. “Flatterer. With your manners and handsome face you probably have ten women in every port.”
“You have made me forget all of them.” It was his turn to chuckle. Strangely, that wasn’t far from the truth. He suspected Angelica Giverny could make him forget all the others.
A playful smile still on her lips, Angelica shook her head. “I would like to invite you to have dinner with me. I have a wonderful apartment in the med compound and the food replicator has an amazing repertoire. We can continue our game of Labyrinth. I might even let you win.”
“How could I possibly refuse an offer of dinner and Labyrinth?” Mage laughed. “You don’t have to let me win. I want my certain victory untarnished.”
She looked over her shoulder, spoke with someone behind her and turned back to him with a frown. “I’m sorry. A patient needs me. I have to go. Tomorrow night? Seven-ish?”
“I’ll be there.” He nodded and smiled.
“Good. I’ll leave a badge for you at reception. It will get you into the residential compound. After that, simply follow the footpath to my residence. One of the security personnel will show you.” She smiled and stood. “I’m looking forward to seeing you, Mage.” In a flurry of sparkling particles, her image disintegrated.
***
Mage’s eyes wandered, taking in the soft greens of grass, ferns and towering trees, the riotous colors of the many blooming plants and the low gurgle of running water. The environment contained within the huge dome was enchanting—a setting appropriate for the lovely, intelligent woman he had come to admire during the three weeks he’d had the pleasure of her company. Dr. Angelica Giverny, he mused. I admire more than her intellect. He avoided physical involvement with passengers on board his ship for many practical reasons. But we’re not on the Revertar anymore. He grinned and tossed the bottle of what he knew to be Angelica’s favorite wine into the air, catching it with ease. No. They weren’t on the Revertar anymore and he fully intended to indulge in any pleasures offered.
Tristan had mentioned that he worked as a public liaison and security officer in the medical compound. As he strolled through the green spaces, Mage’s eyes scanned the personnel, wondering if he’d see Tristan. He’d observed a number of Blue Daggers and a good-looking redhead who he thought was their commander, but no Tristan. Just as well. Tristan had stated his desires clearly. Mage still hadn’t decided if he wanted to fall in line. His feelings for Tristan had always run deep. If he began a physical relationship with Tris, the involvement could devour him. The wise decision would be to maintain only a platonic friendship. Mage had no plans to leave the Verdantian navy. Tris would never remain without a sexual partner during my prolonged absences. He’d never considered himself a masochist, and getting sexually involved with Tristan would set himself up for serious future pain—far better to lose himself in the delectable femininity of Angelica Giverny.
***
Angelica greeted him at the door wearing an indigo blue halter dress of some ultra-sheer material. The front plunged to her waist then flared to a full skirt of translucent, frothy material that halted at her knees while her bare back and shoulders remained an uninterrupted expanse of silky pale skin. In stiletto-heeled, strappy sandals, her legs looked light-years long and her hair shimmered in a shoulder-length brunette fall. The way she’d dressed, indeed the woman herself, invited him to sin. He’d be semi-aroused all night at the thought of indulging.
Hours later, the wreckage of an expansive course of delicacies littered the table. After the limited menu available on the Revertar, he’d savored every bite—almost as much as he’d savored the company of the charming woman across from him. The holographic image of Tristan had disconcerted him until Angelica explained what had happened and turned off the artificial intelligence. They’d both had a chuckle over it. Their dinner had been protracted as they sat and conversed over wide-ranging subjects until deep into the evening hours.
Mage raised his glass of wine in tribute to Angelica and took a sip. “My pleasure in this delicious dinner is exceeded only by my enchantment with my exquisite hostess.”
The lovely doctor lowered her gaze and a light flush spread over her cheeks. “I could say the same thing. I’m so glad you could dine with me tonight.” She cocked her head and her eyes sought his. She smiled shyly. “Should we finish our wine on the balcony? It is so beautiful, especially at night when the roof panels are open. I feel like I can reach out and touch the stars.”
“I’d enjoy that. After you.” Mage rose, helped her from her chair, then followed her out to the balcony. The subtle scent of her perfume went straight to his head. Of course, that could have been the third bottle of wine they’d shared—but he didn’t think so.
Angelica leaned against the railing and looked up into the velvet black above them. Bright sparkles of distant stars sprinkled the heavens. The major and minor Verdantian moonsgleamed pale yellow in the sky. “Aren’t the stars beautiful? I never tire of watching them. You can’t see the heavens on Talleo IV. Our atmosphere is too polluted.”
“Yes, I’ve always thought the stars mesmerizing, but the stars possess a cold beauty.” Mage set his glass carefully on the balcony railing and moved to stand immediately behind her. He slipped his hands around the warm flesh of her waist. He felt her heartbeat thudding through her body and her breathing turn rapid, but she remained pliant under his hands. “You’re equally beautiful and you burn me like the nearest sun. Turn around, Angelica.” She rotated slowly in his arms and stopped when eye-level with his chest.
“Yes?” she whispered.
“I am going to make love to you,” he murmured. “If I have misread the signals tell me.”
Her head shook slowly and she raised her face. “You have misread nothing. I want you.” Her breathy admission swept away the last of his restraint, and he could no more ignore the lure of her lush parted lips than he could have done without oxygen. He cupped her face in his hands and held her immobile while he caressed her mouth with a brush of his lips. He placed light kisses at the corners of her mouth, and then caught her upper lip between his teeth and gently traced its fullness with his tongue. At her moan, he captured her mouth fully and explored the sweet taste of her. She melted against him in total surrender for endless moments then pushed away, gasping for breath and clinging to his arm for support.
“Sweet Goddess, Verdantian men! My patients tell me you formally train to satisfy
women. Can that be true?”
He chuckled. “Actually, yes. We do.”
“You must have been an ‘A’ student.”
He smoothed some of her glossy hair behind her ear and nuzzled the downy soft skin on her neck. “Mmmhmm.” He worked small kisses to her delicate ear and drowned in the scent of her hair and flesh. “Teacher’s pet. I spent countless afternoons earning extra credit.”
Angelica gasped when he nibbled on the lobe of her ear. “Is it possible to die from too much pleasure?”
“No… but you might think you’re going to.” Mage chuckled, picked her up in his arms and strode back into her apartment. “Bedroom?”
“Turn right. The open door on the left.”
Mage smiled to himself when he entered her room. Wine sat decanted on a bedside table and crisp snowy sheets were turned back on a sumptuous, expansive mattress. Plump pillows reclined against a headboard of metal worked into an elaborate depiction of a woodland scene. Slender metallic cords held back a bed canopy of transparent material studded with sparkling bits of reflective glass. When released from their confines, the bed drapery would enclose those in the bed in a private world. Mage could readily imagine other uses for those cords. The soft chimes of some exotic, otherworldly music floated through the air. Hidden lighting cast a warm ambient glow. The entire room wove a spell of seduction.
Mage laid a relaxed Angelica on the bed and stood looking down at her with a crooked smile and a raised eyebrow. “Rather sure of yourself, weren’t you. I’m beginning to wonder if this was my idea.”
She stretched with feline grace and with a shy smile pushed up to sit. “I’m not sure of myself at all. Merely hoping you would desire what I want to give. We can still finish that game of Labyrinth if you’d prefer.”
Hers to Captivate Page 4