He automatically reverted to formality to ease the tension between them that had arisen from someplace he couldn’t pinpoint. “Federation scientists had no difficulty manufacturing the cure.”
She held up a capsule that contained the cure and a packet of water. “Everyone else on the Verazen has already taken theirs. This is for you.”
He accepted the vaccine with a grateful nod, popped the capsule into his mouth, and chased it with water. All the time he wondered what was different about her. She looked the same as the first time he’d met her, but her beautiful golden skin had become more familiar. He now knew how he enjoyed snuggling with her and how he looked forward to her satisfied gaze after he pleasured her. But the open and friendly woman he’d known was gone, as if she’d drawn into herself. It wasn’t just her scientific demeanor. She’d handed him the capsule and water without touching him.
“What’s wrong?” He crushed the packet in his fist.
She picked a nonexistent speck of dust off her immaculate counter and brushed it aside. “Remember when you said you wished we had more time?”
He had no idea what she meant. “More time . . . ?”
“For my cells to adapt to you.”
“I remember.” His stomach clenched as if to take a blow, but he still had no idea where the conversation was going.
“Well, now your wish has come true.”
He folded his arms across his chest and braced his feet. “I don’t understand.”
“The time travel backward—it has nullified my cell adaptation. We are now . . . free.”
Despite bracing himself, he rocked back on his heels. He finally understood. Biology no longer linked their lives together. She was free to go to any man, and she’d delivered the news in such dry scientific language, he couldn’t guess her thoughts. He wished she’d look at him, give him a hint as to her emotions. But she’d shut down every female signal.
He weighed his words with care, sensing what he said next was critical but not sure why. “We may have gone back in time, but the situation on this ship is the same. You will come to me, and only me, when you have a need.”
Her voice turned icy, chilling him with her frost. “We’ll likely arrive on Earth before my biology requires more attention.”
“I see.”
Was her icy demeanor covering her relief? How dare she withdraw from him after all they’d been through. Stars. In her astral state she’d merged with him on a level he still didn’t understand—yet it had been beautiful, as if they were meant to be together. Now, due to a backward twist in time, she would deny everything? She would deny him?
He tightened his arms against the urge to reach out and shake her. After all they’d shared, did she feel nothing? Had their mating been simply sex—and not one thing more?
Hurt that she could be so cold, furious that she didn’t want him now that she no longer needed him, he churned with a rage he didn’t understand. His hands seemed to move of their own accord, and he reached out, grabbed her shoulders, and pulled her into his arms. When she tilted up her head, he caught surprise in her eyes.
Before she said a word, he angled his mouth over hers. She tensed, then trembled against his chest. The heat that always kindled during their kisses sparked and ignited a possessiveness he’d thought he’d suppressed.
When she kissed him back, he took immense satisfaction in eliciting a response. Oh, yes, she most definitely was responding. And not because of her damned Boktai. Her nostrils flared delicately, and a pulse at her neck throbbed.
His voice was gruff, demanding. “So you don’t need me anymore?”
“No.”
He nibbled her ear. “And you don’t need this?”
She shook her head, her eyes wide, her bottom lip quivering. Yet she sent mixed signals, planting her palms on his chest and trying to edge away.
He didn’t budge.
Instead, he clutched her back and bottom and kept them chest to chest, thigh to thigh, and whispered into her delicious mouth. “So if you don’t need me, then tell me no.”
“No.” Her word came out a breathy whisper, her tone shaky and yearning and sexy.
“If you want me to back off, you’ll have to sound more convincing.” He enjoyed the sight of her eyes dilating, the slight rasp of her breath, the feel of her trembling as he aroused her. “This time, you can’t blame biology for what you are feeling.”
“What about you?”
“Me?” He lightly pressed his tavis against her loins. “Here’s proof of my desire.” With a groan, he tipped back her head and plundered her mouth. Alara responded with just as much fervor as when her cells required regeneration, giving him more than he’d thought possible.
Alara knew he enjoyed it when she arched her back and her breasts caressed his chest. She knew that he adored the way she threaded her fingers through his hair. She knew he liked making love by the fervent way he responded. With her flesh pressed against him, she could probably feel his heart thudding hard and reciprocating her passion.
But when she yanked her mouth from his and stepped out of his arms, she took him by surprise. Her lips might be swollen, her eyes might be glazed, but her tone was firm. “No.”
This time she meant it. “No?” He tamped down his simmering blood and escalating anger. If he hadn’t known her better, he would have thought she was playing games, but Alara’s demeanor was too serious. He dug deep for patience, reminding himself that she came from another world, and from her point of view she likely thought she was being quite reasonable. “Are Endekian women forbidden to mate unless they are in Boktai?”
She shook her head, swallowed hard, then raised her eyes to his. “You haven’t thought about you and me.”
“What’s to think about?” For a moment, pain fluttered in her eyes, and then she banished the shadow so quickly, perhaps he’d imagined it. “I want you. Isn’t that enough?”
She gave him one of those “I can’t believe you can be this dumb” looks that reminded him of Tessa rolling her eyes at Kahn when the man was being reasonable and she thought otherwise. Tessa would then proceed to tell Kahn exactly what was wrong—but Alara was more reserved and polite.
“Sex isn’t enough,” she told him, her tone as prim as a virgin’s.
“Sex isn’t enough because you aren’t in Boktai, and your cells don’t require regeneration?” He was trying to understand, but in all likelihood his blood going south had deprived his brain of too much oxygen to think clearly.
She released an aggravated sigh on a breath of air. “Dregan hell. My saying no has nothing to do with Boktai.” She fisted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Last time we made love, we had no choice. This time we do. But you haven’t thought further ahead than a sand gnat.”
“I’ve been a little busy.”
“So?”
“You’re comparing me to a sand gnat?” he growled.
“Why not? They mate on instinct with no thought about the future, either.”
She was worried about the future? Ah, she feared getting pregnant. “I adjusted my suit. You won’t have a child from our union. Since we’ve gone back in time, you won’t adapt to me if we mate just one time.”
“That’s not the point,” she muttered with a toss of her head.
“Well, you clearly want me, so I don’t understand your objection.”
“My objection is that you seem to have no idea how you feel about me—other than as a sexual partner.”
“That’s not true. I like working with you.”
“You like working with Vax and Cyn and Shannon,” she countered.
“I like touching you and talking to you and sleeping with you.”
She cocked her hip, challenging him. “Is only one more time enough for you?”
He shrugged. He didn’t kn
ow what to say because she was right, he hadn’t thought past the moment. Ever since she’d adapted to him, he’d simply assumed she was his. The damn temporal changes had altered . . . everything.
“Have you thought about what kind of future you’d have if we were once again bonded permanently?” she persisted. “It’s unlikely I could accompany you on every mission. We could not be separated for long because of the Boktai. Are you willing to give up your career?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“You haven’t thought at all.”
“I still have a mission . . .”
“I understand. You’re focused on your objectives. So I think we should keep our options open until you have time to think about what you really want.”
She was refusing him, sending him away, and it sounded as if she really meant it. “Are you giving me an ultimatum?”
“I’m giving you the freedom to choose your future. That freedom is a privilege that shouldn’t be taken lightly. You owe yourself that much. You owe me that much.”
Thoughts swirling chaotically, his heart pounding against his ribs, he stared at her, angry, hurt, and confused. “What about you? What do you want?”
Pain shadowed her eyes. “I don’t want to be trapped like my mother was, with a man who ultimately didn’t care.”
Pain slapped him, and he started to turn away. “I guess that says it all then. You don’t need me any longer, so there’s no point in continuing—”
“You idiot.” Her voice cracked, and he pivoted to look at her. She’d staggered as if her knees had buckled, and she had to catch herself on the counter to prevent a fall. The pain in her eyes combined with the defiant tilt to her chin told him she was suffering, but he didn’t understand why, when it was she who was sending him away.
Slowly, she straightened and squared her shoulders. Her voice sounded both strong and raw. “I don’t need you, but I want you.”
“What?”
“That doesn’t mean I’d willingly tie myself to a man who doesn’t have feelings for me.”
“Stars.” She had feelings for him. She’d bravely admitted that she did, putting pride on the line with a courage that rocked him to his core. She deserved the same honesty from him. “You’re right.” He shot her a sheepish smile. “I haven’t thought things through.”
“You have been a little busy saving the galaxy and everything.”
Now she was making excuses for him, and he realized he’d taken her for granted. He’d just assumed she was his. But now he had a choice, and for both their sakes, such a momentous decision required clear thinking.
“You’ve become . . . very special to me.”
“I’m glad . . . and no matter what, I will always think kindly of our time together.”
She was gently letting him off the hook, and regret flowed through him. Everything had been simple when they’d had no choice. She’d been his . . . and now she wasn’t. The idea of losing her clashed with his clear-cut ideas of right and wrong. He’d been content with their arrangement. Having her had been more than convenient. Exciting. Exhilarating. Exotic. He’d come to care deeply for her. But was that enough?
He didn’t like the fact that if they bonded permanently again, every time he risked his life, he’d be risking hers. They might pass the Endekian biology to a daughter. Before meeting Alara, he would never have chosen an Endekian wife, and he couldn’t help but see many conflicts and difficulties in their future.
Yet, the idea of never waking up next to her again saddened him. Clawed at him. Alara had seen what he had not. He had to search his heart, because anything less wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
21
WHILE KIREK HOLED up in his quarters to work on his calculations, Alara tended her experiments, but Xander had her distracted. Baring her soul, telling him that she had feelings, had been the single most difficult conversation of her life. She’d never expected to want a man—except under the influence of her hormones.
But she couldn’t blame Boktai or cell adaptation or any facet of her biology for her reaction the last time Xander had kissed her. She hadn’t responded like an Endekian female driven by blind lust. Instead, she’d felt genuine emotions that had developed from their time together, and those emotions had switched on her hormones.
She hadn’t expected Xander to respond immediately to her declaration, and he hadn’t. He would put thought into his choice, and that was exactly what she wanted—only she hadn’t anticipated that the waiting would be so hard, or nerve-racking.
Now that Xander was avoiding her, she missed him. She missed the comfort of his powerful arms, the sound of his compelling voice, the simple sharing of daily conversation. Perhaps she shouldn’t have revealed her feelings to him. But nothing would be worse than falling in love with a man who didn’t love her.
She’d prefer sex with a stranger rather than end up like her mother—a woman who’d been reduced to begging her indifferent husband for a scrap of affection. Despite the pain of knowing she might lose Xander forever, Alara was perfectly capable of being happily single. She had friends and her work. While her life was fuller for Xander’s presence, she’d never expected a man to make her happy. If he didn’t want her the way she wanted him, eventually she’d heal.
However, having a man to share her happiness had been unexpectedly wonderful for the short time they’d been together. Her impatience, plus her constantly trying to guess when and what he’d decide, was giving her spaceship fever. She longed to be outside, not cooped up in the same ship with Xander.
Afraid to get her hopes up for fear he would dash them by rejecting her for all time, she’d tried to stay busy and failed. So when Shannon stopped by the lab, Alara welcomed the interruption.
In her saucy way, Shannon unpacked a basket of wine, cheese, sweetmeats, and Terran chocolates, then came right to the point. “Are you avoiding all of us or just Xander?”
“Just Xander.”
“Thought so.” Shannon poured the Merlot and offered her a glass. “We’re landing on Earth in a few hours.”
“Are you looking forward to seeing your family?” Alara asked, uncomfortable talking about Xander.
“We’re planning another reunion. You’re invited.”
“I’ll be there.” Alara sipped the rich red wine and savored the warmth as it slid down her throat. Perhaps the company would lessen her impatience.
“You know, an Earth woman wouldn’t hide.” Shannon could be forthright and interfering, but Alara knew she meant well.
But perhaps she’d misunderstood. “Excuse me?”
“She’d go after what she wanted.”
Alara raised a speculative eyebrow and put aside her discomfort. “How?”
Shannon laughed, the wrinkle lines around her eyes crinkling. “A little flirtation. A neck massage. A candlelit dinner.”
“Ah, you’re talking about seduction. We’re way past the seduction stage.”
“Men need reminders of what they’re missing. Hiding in here makes it easier on him.”
“If he can forget me so easily, then we aren’t meant to be together.” Alara recalled her father going off to work, her mother phoning him on the holovid, and her father’s nasty chuckles. No, she wanted better—even if that meant living alone, even if that meant going to strangers.
“So you intend to sit on your ass and do nothing?” Shannon shook her head, unwrapped a chocolate bar, broke off a corner, and savored a tiny piece.
“I want him to decide with his head—the one on his shoulders.” Alara shrugged. “I want his decision to be made with all the facts and—”
“Oh, puh-lease. No one ever has all the facts. The Zin could invade, and you could die tomorrow. The Verazen could explode. Or—”
“I know you’re trying to help,” Alara said softly, �
�but on my world, marriage is decided by lust. I don’t want that. Lust is not enough.”
“And neither is deciding with just your brain.”
“What else is there?”
“Heart and soul. When my Frankie was alive, it didn’t matter that I was educated and he’d quit school to become a fisherman. He was my other half—the one for me.” A faraway look softened her eyes, and wistfulness entered Shannon’s tone. “Together we were complete. Oh, don’t get me wrong, we had our fights—our families disapproved.”
“Why?”
“We came from different religions, different socioeconomic backgrounds, and Frankie believed he should always tell me what to do.” Shannon winked. “Sometimes, I even let him think he was in charge. Times were often hard. Sometimes we didn’t have enough credits to keep on the lights, but we didn’t starve, and our kids grew up fine. We had lots of love, and that counts for a lot.”
“Love has to go both ways. I won’t settle for less.”
“You think that Xander doesn’t love you because he hasn’t said so?” Shannon shook her head. “Likely he doesn’t know it himself.”
“That’s why I’m giving him time to think.”
“But he shows his love in the way he glances at you when you enter the bridge. The pride in his eyes when you told him you figured out how to cure the virus. The way his tone lightens when he says your name. Or when he was worried sick about the Lapau hurting you. He risked his mission to rescue you.”
“He rescued us. He would have done the same for any crew member. Duty and honor are bred into his Rystani genes.”
“You’re missing the point. He loves you—he just hasn’t admitted it to himself. Sometimes a man needs a little help to acknowledge his own feelings.”
Alara drained her wine. “I won’t seduce him. There’s got to be another way.”
As if determined to get her tipsy, Shannon refilled her glass. “You could flirt with Vax.”
“I’m not interested—”
“If Vax understood you were trying to make Xander jealous, he’d flirt back.”
The Ultimatum Page 28