His By Command (Primarian Mates Book 2)

by Maddie Taylor

  “I don’t find this funny, Commander.”

  “Believe me, it is hilarious.”

  “You get the man is very important, like the Princep, really. And, he’s my commander-in-chief?”

  That sobered him up somewhat, for he stopped guffawing and drawing attention, and dipped his chin down to her. “I am your only commander, Maggie.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “He is a man, like any other, when he rolls out of bed each day. I, however, am your mate and the only superior, other than Max Kerr, that you need to worry about or answer to. Understand?”

  “Yes,” she murmured, eyeing the screen behind him with the blue podium and the presidential seal, which didn’t do much for her impending panic either.

  “We’re about to start. You’ll sit beside me, showing these men how confident and poised you are under pressure, and through it all, if you need to, you can squeeze my hand under the table with no one the wiser. Everything is going to be fine.”

  Her head snapped around. “You’ll hold my hand?”

  “Of course, Maggie, why would I not?”

  Usually she faced stressful situations alone, making solo calls all on her own. Having a strong, trusted, supportive hand to hold onto for a change sounded nice. “Okay,” she agreed, but made the mistake of glancing once again at the scene of the crime—well, more like the scene of the crime of passion—and her face once again, flooded with heat.

  “Trask, Allon, Mordrun, shift left.” This was said with such authority, no one questioned his order and behind him, Maggie could see the three men switch positions.

  Roth brushed his thumb lightly across her cheek. “You’re going to be a wonderful representative of both our people. I’m confident of that.”

  Smiling at his praise, she leaned into his touch. “Thank you, honey, and thanks for being my anchor in this freak-out storm I’m having.”

  “Always, purrada.”

  After she took a steadying breath, she nodded, and he led her to her new non-anxiety-producing seat at the opposite end of the table. As he was helping her slide in her chair, the screen flashed onto the image of James Quincy Franklin, 73rd President of the United States, and without delay, the negotiations began.

  Since that day, over a week ago, she’d been in meetings from daylight to dark, answering repeatedly the same questions. She’d conferenced in with the President twice more, along with several of his cabinet, and on several occasions spoken with different members of Congress, and she’d also met numerous times with a team of specially appointed scientists heading up a committee on Primarian studies, to learn more about the mating process. Roth, who sat beside her through it all, and true to his word, held her hand beneath the table when she got anxious, or irritated, or so angry that she wanted to throw her chair at the screen, held his own on the basic tenets of mate bonding with the non-scientific groups. When it had gotten into DNA and cellular biology, he had called on Ellar, the physic, hand selected by Jarlan to speak on their level, although his expertise was garnered in less than three months on the human-Primarian connection.

  On the third day in orbit, they transported down by shuttle. They were greeted by a team of security and law enforcement officers, sent to protect not only the citizens, but the visitors from the protestors who had already started gathering, holding signs with narrow-minded slogans, and persistent chants of “aliens go home” whenever they spotted her and Roth and any of the others, coming or going.

  Once on Earth, in New York City, specifically, Roth had stuck like glue to her side the entire time, as had Trask with Lana, although she insisted she had dissolved their mate bond, something both Roth and Trask had said was impossible. Yet during the trip, with Lana on board the Odyssey and Trask aboard the Dauntless, a funny thing happened. Her eyes, which had been teal on Primaria when she’d been mated to Trask, had changed back to her original light brown, and the dark streaks in her fair hair had faded completely. Others asked if she had dyed it to her natural color, but she denied it.

  This gave Lana further basis to proclaim their bond broken. And, other than repeating that being mated wasn’t for her, and that she was homesick, she hadn’t given even a hint about what had happened when Trask had shuttled over and confronted her weeks ago.

  Lana was closed-mouthed about it, and by Roth’s account, Trask was surly and as unwilling to talk. And she was sad. No. That simple word didn’t do the sorrow dulling her eyes justice, no matter how she tried to hide it. She’d lost weight and never smiled anymore, which was unlike the previously vivacious blonde.

  Between Eryn and Lana, the questions and secrets were mounting, and on top of that, she had an alliance to solidify.

  Maggie sighed, beginning to see what an important role she was playing in the whole scheme of things. And if she’d captained the Odyssey as she’d complained about, she wouldn’t have been able to do it all. She probably owed Roth an apology.

  She reflected upon that for a moment. Was that as he’d planned it, or something that happened to turn out in his favor? Uncertain, she promptly nixed the apology—stubborn as she was—and decided she’d wait a bit more and see how it all played out.

  29

  Maggie adjusted her collar and smoothed down the front of her skirt. It was looser since the last time she’d worn it, but it would have to do since it was the only business-style outfit she owned. She shifted from side to side, checking to make sure everything was tucked and straightened one last time before she switched off the light and left the bathroom.

  Glancing at the clock, she smiled. “Ten minutes to spare! And they say women are always late.”

  “You will be. Go change.”

  She froze, her hands halfway to her ear with her earring in one hand and the back to it in the other. “Why?”

  “You’re not going out in public half naked. Find something else. Preferably a dress that covers your legs and doesn’t look like it was applied with a paint brush.”

  She glanced down. The hem hit at the knees, which was probably longer than the current style. It was a pencil skirt, bought at the vintage shop down the street for a steal five years ago. She’d bought it knowing the style would eventually come around again, like everything did. Sure, it was form-fitting, that’s how it was supposed to be.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Roth’s eyes glittered with a lot more than anger as they scanned down her body, lingering at her hips. “Far from it. I’ve been here for two days and have never seen as much bare skin in my entire adult life. Short skirts, sleeveless tops, backless dresses, the necklines plunging in front to reveal most of the breasts. While most Earth females dress immodestly, my mate will not be one of them. Change.”

  Maggie stared at him gape-mouthed.

  “Never mind,” he said, changing his mind abruptly, “if that’s what you chose out of a closet brimming with clothing, I’ll find something appropriate.” He said this determinedly as he stood and stalked to her large walk-in. Which, for New York, was almost the size of some of the apartments.

  Hearing hangers slapping together snapped her out of shock. She couldn’t believe he was going to dictate what she wore. Check that—Primarian Neanderthal, remember? Which meant his objections, which were entirely unreasonable, weren’t going to change no matter her attempts to make him see reason.

  “Roth, really.” She tried anyway. “It’s conservative by current fashion standards; besides, when in Rome, one does like the Romans.”

  “That means nothing to me, since the name of this city is New York. And whether here, in Ariad, or in this Rome that you’re going on about, you will dress appropriately, mate, or you don’t leave the apartment.” The last words were distant since he still was submersed in her brimming closet.

  “Yep. Neanderthal man,” she whispered, staring after him. “I thought I’d seen the last of him. Boy, was I wrong.”

  “I looked it up.”

  What’s that?” she asked when he appeared in the doorway. />
  “Neanderthal man,” he answered pointedly. “Flat-skulled, grunting, cave dwellers. I saw photographs, Maggie.”

  “Uh, yes, well, I didn’t mean your appearance. You’re gorgeous, Roth, I’ve told you that often enough.”

  “Thank you, but I wasn’t referring to that, either. More so, your repeated comment that I am unevolved. If being modern means allowing my mate to parade around half dressed while other men gawk at her, I’ll stay that way.” He handed her several hangers. “Put these on and do so quickly. We’re supposed to be downstairs in eight minutes.”

  She eyed what he had chosen. The flowing dress was long, falling nearly to her ankles with a matching cropped sweater. It was more her style, and a lot like what they wore on Primaria; still, it was in no way right for the occasion.

  “We’re meeting with ambassadors; the business suit is more appropriate.”

  “It’s that or nothing. Choose now.”

  “Nothing?” she inquired pointedly. “I’m to meet with the Security Council buck naked?”

  “You are as amusing as a boil on the backside, mate. I don’t have time to spank you now, so the recompense for your wisecrack will have to wait until later.” He arched one black brow at her pointedly when she didn’t budge. “We are going to be very late.”

  With an eye roll, she started for the bathroom.

  “No need. Put it on here, so that I may help you.” Without hesitation, he pulled the cropped blazer from her shoulders and down her arms. As it fell to the floor, his fingers worked the buttons of her blouse. When he reached around to undo the zipper on her skirt, she glanced up at him and smiled.

  Both brows arched sharply this time when he asked, “What?”

  “Even though you’re unevolved, I rather like the fact you don’t want other men gawking at me, and it’s quite nice how you notice everything about me.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my mate, and I love you.”

  That got him a full grin. “I love you too, my sexy Neanderthal.”

  “You pour on the sass when you know I don’t have time to do anything about it, but I warn you, mate, don’t push me, or ten minutes late will turn into one of your half hours.” As the skirt slithered down her legs, his hands moved over her bottom, giving her a firm squeeze on each cheek. “Better yet, I’ll take care of it on the way. These cars they send to drive us around have very roomy rear seats.”

  “I’ll be good.”

  “Mmmm, that would be a first.”

  “Roth!”

  Down to her bra and panties, he frowned at those too.

  “I’m not taking these off. No way! I refuse to walk into a room full of foreign dignitaries with my boobs jiggling and my ass hanging out.”

  He barked with laughter as he ran a finger over the sheer lace of her bra. “That makes for a stunning visual, but I wasn’t going to make you take them off, little one. I was going to insist you wear them to bed tonight, because these ‘undies’ you prefer are freaking hot.”

  She giggled at the Earth slang he’d so easily appropriated. “I think I’m a bad influence on you, honey.”

  “I think so too,” he agreed as he dipped his head and took her lips briefly. Then he pulled back and lowered the dress over her head. As she settled it around her hips, he held out the sweater for her to slip her arms through and settled it around her shoulders. “Beautiful,” he murmured huskily, taking her in, “and the dress is nice too.” With a wink, he took her hand, tugging her toward the door.

  “Wait,” she called, veering for the closet. “Shoes.”

  “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Seated beside Lana, Saige observed her with a worried frown. “You can do this, honey. After facing down the wrath of the general and not peeing yourself, I have faith you can do anything.”

  She shook her head wildly, anxiety written plainly across her face. “Look where we are.”

  “New York?” Tessa offered.

  Having rounded the corner passed anxious and racing headlong toward panic, Lana practically squealed her response, “The United Nations!”

  “Breathe, Lana,” Maggie urged softly as she reached over and squeezed her hand. “It’s going to be okay. They’re only searching for answers and some reassurance that this is what we need to do for our future.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of, Maggie. I’m not a politician. What if I say something wrong and they decide against the whole idea? It could cause an international incident.”

  “You’re thinking on too small a scale,” Saige deadpanned. “This goes wrong, it’s an intergalactic incident.”

  Lana groaned.

  “Saige,” Maggie said sharply. “You are not helping.”

  She grimaced and murmured, “Sorry, Lana.”

  Hearing male voices and footsteps echoing down the hall, Maggie glanced up and

  watched as Roth headed toward them, along with General Trask, another warrior she didn’t know, and two of the elders. She glanced worriedly at Lana. As far as she knew, the last time they had seen one another had been that day of the blow-up on the ship.

  “Here come Commander Roth and the general,” Tessa announced. “They must be ready

  for us.”

  Lana, who had been focused on slow breaths to quell her stomach’s upset, didn’t seem to

  process what had been said, because she didn’t react at first. Instead, she nodded, as if mentally psyching herself up, then she stood. Suddenly, she turned to Tessa as it sunk. “Did you say the general?” she whispered.

  Tessa nodded once and pointed down the hall.

  Lana whirled. Taking a step backward when she saw him, her face went ghostly

  pale. “What is Trask doing here?” she demanded to know.

  Surprised at her reaction, Tessa’s eyes shifted to Maggie with concern as she

  tentatively answered her agitated friend’s question. “As the highest-ranking officer here, I imagine he is representing Max Kerr.”

  “No,” Lana snapped, retreating another step. “That would be Krager.”

  “Who?” This from Saige.

  “The other man with him them. He is the Primmum Ectus, the Princep’s

  heir, and would outrank Trask in regards to diplomacy. So again, I’m asking, why is Trask here?” Her voice had risen in volume along with her panic.

  Maggie rose. “Lana, you’ve got to get it together.”

  “Yeah,” Tessa added. “You look like you’re halfway to a major freak-out.”

  “Wrong,” Lana whispered, her eyes locked on Trask. “I’m already there and I’m leaving.”

  With the men almost upon them, she spun in the opposite direction, her eyes darting around frantically. Suddenly, she took off for the sign marked exit at the end of the hall. Maggie grabbed her arm before she got very far.

  “I know something is happening between you two, otherwise I would ask. But we need you here, Lana. For the good of our mission, you need to put a lid on whatever this is, at least until the end of the hearing.”

  “Then can I go home?” She sounded near tears.

  “Yeah, honey. I’ll take you there myself.”

  She nodded and took another calming breath.

  “Is there a problem here, Maggie?” Roth asked, coming to a halt by their small group, taking in the restraining grip she had on Lana’s arm, before lifting to her visibly distressed face. Next, his gaze shifted to Maggie, a brow arched in question.

  “She said she was leaving,” Saige put in, when no one else answered.

  Maggie glared at her; the girl really had no filter.

  “What?” Mordrun demanded. “She can’t. They’re ready to begin.” Mordrun spun on Trask. “She’s your female. Rein her in.”

  “No longer,” Trask replied shortly. “Her Earth mate, or Krager, will have to attempt to control her. I certainly failed when I tried.”

  “Maggie,” Lana groaned, swaying slightly as her hand flew to her forehead.

  “She complained of
feeling sick, Roth. And I don’t think she’s faking. She’s trembling.”

  Mordrun’s eyes narrowed. “The female certainly looks pale and thin.”

  “She’s lost weight,” Trask observed, stepping forward. “What’s wrong, paulova?” His voice was gentle with her now.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

  “She needs a doctor. Ellar was downstairs with the other group,” Krager advised.

  Trask reached for her. “I’ll take her to him.”

  “No!” Lana shrieked, jerking her arm away. “I really only need to lie down.”

  “You’ll fall down before you get there. I will carry you.”

  “No! Don’t you see? You’re the one making me sick.”

  His head snapped up in stunned surprise. A second later, he took a step back. “How can that be?”

  Without his support, she staggered into Maggie, who caught her, but barely. “I’m sorry, Trask. I didn’t know how to tell you without hurting you. It started before we left Primaria and has gotten worse each time you come near me.”

  “This is why you ran?” His hand reached toward her, as if on instinct. When she flinched, letting out a broken sob, he jerked it away. It was gut-wrenching to watch them in such torment. Maggie glanced over at Roth, seeing her own concern reflected in his eyes.

  “I don’t mean to sound insensitive,” Krager cut in. “This unusual reaction needs to be examined, thoroughly, but it must wait. The Security Council is ready for us.”

  “She can’t go in like this,” Trask stated, sounding raw, with deep frown lines marring his handsome face.

  “The ladies room has a bench where she can lie down,” Tessa suggested.

  “I’ll see she gets there,” Maggie offered, preparing to assist her down the hall.

  “No,” Roth objected. “They are expecting you of all the females to be there.” He looked at Trask, shifting next to Krager. “Kanei,” he stated brusquely, glancing down the hall to where he stood with two others on guard. He waved the warrior over. “Take Lana downstairs to Ellar. One of the other females will go with you, in case she needs something. We will explain her sudden illness to the committee.”