Enemy Overnight

by Robin L. Rotham

  “You have to admit he’s an asshole, Shauss,” Monica said. “When I go down there to see Kellen, he looks at me like something he scraped off his boot.”

  “Zannen’s comportment in the presence of females has always left much to be desired,” Tiber volunteered. “But otherwise he’s a fine officer.”

  “You still haven’t told us what you were doing at the command center, Miss King,” Shauss reminded her. “Did you require some sort of assistance?”

  Her fingers slid down to rest over the lump in her pocket. “I, uh, really need to talk to Monica. Alone. It’s…female stuff.”

  Shauss regarded her quietly for a moment and she held her breath again. Maybe he wouldn’t trust her alone with Monica.

  Finally he gave a short nod and she released her pent-up breath with a gusty sigh. “Thank you.”

  He looked at her penetratingly for a moment before saying, “You’ve been ill served by two Garathani officers, and that reflects poorly on our entire race. Ambassador Pret has already been put to death for his treachery.” When Jasmine gasped, he added, “Not by us—even in our young and relatively exuberant government, the wheels of justice do not roll quite so quickly. He was evidently executed by his own accomplices.”

  Jasmine’s stomach contracted. The ambassador had other accomplices?

  “We will, however, see that Zannen is appropriately censured before this watch ends,” Shauss finished. “You may rest assured that he will no longer be a nuisance to you.”

  Thank you didn’t seem like quite the right thing to say, so she just nodded.

  He stared at her long enough to make painful heat rise in her cheeks before he and Tiber bowed and then left her alone with Monica.

  * * * * *

  “Lieutenant Zannen, report to Tactical Three.”

  After a pause, Zannen replied, “Yes, Sir.”

  Shauss strode toward the tranlift, every nerve ending abuzz, every muscle tense. He really should wait and let Kellen handle the ass chewing, but he just couldn’t rest until Zannen knew how very off-limits Jasmine King was to him and every other male on the ship. If he lost control and beat the attitude out of the bastard, so much the better—satisfaction like that was worth being stripped of his rank and spending a few months in detention.

  She had kissed him. He still could hardly believe it. Granted, she’d done so in the throes of some bizarre dream in which she’d apparently expected him to decapitate her…but she’d kissed him.

  He licked his lower lip. Had any mouth ever tasted as sweet? Holding Jasmine in his arms, inhaling the fresh vanilla cream of her skin and tonguing the sweet delicacy of her mouth, had sent his hormones into hyperdrive and suddenly he’d been rock-hard and ready to throw her to the floor and fuck her senseless.

  Shauss shook himself. What had he been thinking to respond to her like that—especially in front of his mate and Tiber, of all people? What had she been thinking to kiss him like that?

  The female was obviously dangerous and potentially deadly, and neither he nor Zannen nor any other Garathani needed to expose himself to that sort of risk. The sooner Zannen understood that, the better.

  He stepped into the tranlift. “Command Deck.”

  Tiber stepped in behind him. “Some fascinating history between you and Miss King, I gather?”

  “Mind your own business for once, Doctor.”

  “The mental well-being of the crew and passengers is my business, Lieutenant.”

  “My mental well-being is no more a cause for your concern now than it has ever been,” Shauss said impatiently.

  “I continue to have doubts about that,” Tiber disagreed, “but right now it’s Miss King’s well-being I’m concerned with.”

  Shauss frowned, keeping his eyes firmly on the doors. Tiber had been a pain in his proverbial posterior for more years than he cared to remember. During his military intake physical, the doctor had tried unsuccessfully to ferret out the details of his parents’ deaths and noted Shauss’ lack of cooperation in his reports. As far as Shauss knew, that hadn’t affected his career adversely, but then a murky psychological history could almost be considered a requirement in the line of specialization he’d eventually chosen.

  Over the years, he’d endured the required annual psychological examinations and managed to stymie Tiber’s every attempt to quantify him. Perhaps it was an assassin’s natural paranoia, but he could swear Tiber had made understanding him his personal crusade—a crusade that Shauss was determined to see fail.

  He’d imagined that being reassigned as Kellen’s first lieutenant would mean an end to his annual torture sessions with the inquisitive psychological officer, and it had—until this assignment. Now, instead of suffering once a year, he was the victim of spontaneous encounters and casual quizzes at every turn.

  Most recently, Tiber had been appointed by Minister Cecine to advise Shauss following his decision to annul the original bond with Kellen and Monica—after all, what male in his right mind would voluntarily sever ties with the minister’s daughter and the commander of the Heptoral? Pride was of paramount importance to all Garathani males but few would let it stand in the way of such an advantageous alliance.

  After hours of intensive questioning, Tiber had reluctantly conceded that Shauss might be one of those few. Shauss had hoped that rebonding with his mates would set the counselor at ease, but if anything, Tiber seemed even more puzzled and skeptical.

  Now Tiber had even more ammunition to use in their little skirmishes—Jasmine King.

  The door opened on Voya Deck and Kellen beckoned. “Ah, just the officers I was looking for. Come with me.”

  “I thought you were in chambers with the council all day,” Shauss said, sending a message to Zannen to wait for him as he followed Kellen down the corridor.

  “Rendal called me out to see this.” Kellen stopped and gestured toward the bulkhead. “What do you make of it?”

  Shauss frowned as he looked at the biologic pad. A section no larger than his hand was a slightly paler shade of blue than the surrounding pad, and there was a yellowing patch in the center. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Some sort of nutrient deficiency, perhaps?”

  “If so, it’s one I’ve never seen,” Kellen said. “Microscience is sending a team down to investigate whether this is some sort of pathology or a naturally occurring process. But I don’t like the timing or the placement, here where any of our unexpected guests could have done something to it.”

  Tiber nodded. “Suspicious.”

  “Empran, quarantine this block until microscience clears it.”

  A translucent white shimmer appeared over the bulkhead. “Block Voya-4742 quarantined.”

  Shauss looked at Kellen. “Since you’re out of chambers, how would you like to take Zannen to task for his behavior?”

  “Which female has he offended this time?”

  “Miss King. Again.”

  Kellen winced. “Naturally. It couldn’t have been some foolish female we could just silence with a threat to mate her with him.”

  Tiber sputtered. “Commander, that’s—”

  “A joke, Tiber. Be at ease.”

  They headed for the tranlift.

  “What did you mean by again?” Tiber asked.

  Pleased by the doctor’s ignorance, Shauss glanced over his shoulder. “You’re still here?”

  “I’m interested in the disposition of this matter.”

  “You’re interested in Miss King,” Shauss corrected.

  “The thought disturbs you.”

  Stopping suddenly, Shauss jabbed a finger in Tiber’s chest. “You disturb me.”

  “Gentlemen, do we have a problem?” Kellen asked.

  “Not as long as Tiber stays out of my head.”

  Kellen sighed. “Stay out of his head, Tiber.”

  “As you wish, Commander.”

  * * * * *

  “Have a seat, Jas.” Monica flopped down on the oversized sofa and patted the cushion next to hers. She looked s
o different now. Back when they first met, her hair had been short and spiky and dyed the most god-awful shade of black Jasmine had ever seen. With piercings too numerous to count and the dramatic Goth makeup, she’d looked more like a rebellious teenager than a bona fide physician.

  As it turned out, she practically was a teenager at the time. To look at her now, Monica’s previous immaturity was obvious. She’d gone from pudgy punk to svelte sex kitten overnight, and Jasmine was big enough to admit that she envied her.

  Sighing, she perched on the edge of the cushion to keep her legs from dangling like a child’s.

  “How about a kiss?” Monica offered. At Jasmine’s startled look, she grinned and pulled a foil-wrapped chocolate from the pocket of her lab coat. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

  Heat prickling in her cheeks, Jasmine shook her head, so Monica peeled the little morsel and popped it into her mouth. “I’m not mad at you, you know,” she said around the lump of chocolate. “For the kiss or anything else.”

  “Why not? First I almost get you raped by a slimy diplomat and then I put the moves on your mate in my sleep.” She put her hot face in her hands and groaned. “God, I can’t believe I did that.”

  “First off, that slimy diplomat fooled you just like he fooled everyone else,” Monica said. “I know you heard me yelling at Kellen right before I was whisked away—you’d have been an idiot not to suspect I was being held against my will.”

  Tears of relief burned Jasmine’s eyes. “Thank you for saying that.”

  “I’m the one who should be thanking you. You risked your life to rescue me and I never even stopped by to see how you were afterward. I was just so messed up about Kellen and Shauss, and then the attack happened and the evacuation and everything…”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not.” Monica studied her with a troubled look. “From what I saw of your dream life, you’re obviously suffering from some kind of post-traumatic stress. Sex and slimy fangs and decapitation? Seriously?”

  She didn’t have to fake a shudder. “Yeah, it was a real nightmare.”

  “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

  Blindsided, she gasped for air. “No! Monica, no.”

  “Shelley said you were, but I didn’t believe it.”

  “Damn it, I’m not in love with Shauss!” Jasmine got up and paced. “He nearly raped me, for God’s sake! That’s a—a very intimate thing, and it’s only natural for me to be kind of—of conflicted about him. I’m still working through it.”

  “Well, I’m glad you can work through it,” Monica said softly, “but Shelley told me you were stuck on him way before that incident.”

  Feeling trapped, Jasmine stopped to stare out the flare window. “Monica, I swear I would never have tried to take him away from you. That’s not why I helped Pret.”

  Monica blinked. “I never thought of that.”

  “Well, I did. Believe me, I stopped and questioned my own motives every step of the way on this, but I couldn’t just stand back and let you be forced into a lifetime of—of sexual servitude if that wasn’t what you wanted.”

  “Sexual servitude?” Monica snickered.

  “I’m serious! I thought that if I could just get you someplace safe, we could talk and I’d know for sure…” She sighed. “Some savior I turned out to be.”

  “I’m sorry. Hell, you really were between a rock and a hard place, weren’t you?”

  “I was an idiot. But, Monica, even if Shauss were free as a bird and I was madly in love with him, I’d never do anything about it.”

  “Why not?”

  She took a deep breath, hating the lies she was about to tell. “Because I can’t have children and the Garathani need all the children they can get.”

  “Well, that sucks.”

  “Yeah, it does.” That was no lie. It sucked completely. “I was in an accident when I was teenager and the trauma to my pituitary gland triggered early-onset menopause.”

  Monica stared at her. “No way! You look great.”

  “Well, my dad’s filthy rich, so I got the best care available from the world’s top specialists. They couldn’t fix the problem, but they put me on hormone replacement therapy and gave me breast implants so that I could live a halfway normal life.”

  “Implants, huh?” Monica gazed at her chest. “Wow. Usually I can spot a boob job a mile off, but I totally thought yours were real. Not that I’ve been checking you out or anything.”

  Jasmine smiled weakly. “I didn’t think you were.”

  “You were smart to go for tasteful over spectacular.”

  Spectacular looked like it was working out pretty good for her, but Jasmine bit her tongue. If she drew any more comparisons between them, Monica might start putting two and two together.

  “Yeah, I kind of thought anything bigger would be false advertising,” she said instead. Pulling the bottle out of her pocket, she forged on. “Anyway, that’s kind of related to reason I was looking for you. I was asleep when the Garathani did their beam-up routine so of course I didn’t have a chance to grab anything. It was just by the grace of God I had my nasal spray in my pocket. I really need to have it replicated, but I just wasn’t comfortable approaching the Garathani doctors.”

  “Understandable.” Monica held out her hand and Jasmine passed it to her. “What is it? There’s no label.”

  “It’s a hormone replacement that hasn’t even been approved for human trials in the States yet,” Jasmine said. “I may not be able to have kids, but at least I don’t have to deal with hot flashes, my skin is still firm, and I’m not at high risk for osteoporosis.”

  Monica shook the bottle and her eyes widened. “Shit, there’s hardly any in here.”

  “Hopefully there’s enough left to replicate.” Jasmine shifted uncomfortably.

  “Jesus, Jasmine, why don’t you wait ’til the last minute next time.” She shook it again and frowned. “It would have been better to do it right away. There’s a reason they have you shake it before you use it. Who knows what kind of concentration is left in here?”

  “The computer told me you were unavailable.”

  Monica’s eyes narrowed. “Empran, why did you tell her I was unavailable?”

  “Lieutenant Shauss’ orders.”

  Relief bloomed in Jasmine’s chest. Monica hadn’t blown her off.

  Shauss had, the bastard.

  “Well, from now on, I’ll set my own availability, if you don’t mind,” Monica snapped.

  “That will require the clearance of Commander Kellen.”

  “I’ve got your clearance right here,” Monica muttered as she stood up. “Okay, Jas, I’ll see what I can do. Maybe Ketrok or Tiber can help me get—”

  “No!” Jasmine jumped up too. “I don’t trust Garathani doctors.”

  “Hey, I resemble that remark.”

  Though her ironic comeback held no heat, Jasmine hurried to say, “No, you were Terran first and I know I can trust you to do everything in your power to get it right.”

  Monica’s features softened. “You can trust them too.”

  “Please, just do it yourself. I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “I can’t promise you that,” Monica said with a shake of her head. “I’ve barely begun my training with their technology. But if I have to ask for help, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure they get it right, okay?”

  Jasmine swallowed. “I guess I can’t ask for more than that.”

  “It’ll be all right, Jas. Hey, you doing anything for lunch?”

  A bizarre, inedible sandwich alone in my room again. “No. Why?”

  “Kellen’s locked up with the dusty old guys all day, so I’m eating with Shelley and her husband. Why don’t you join us?”

  She hesitated. “Shelley was kind of mad at me after…”

  “The Pret-napping?” At her nod, Monica rolled her eyes. “She just gets really pissy when she’s scared. Kellen said she practically screamed the place down unti
l they brought Mark up here.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. Come on, have lunch with us.”

  Jasmine was torn. She really should stick to her quarters until her supply of nasal spray had been replenished, but after almost a week of relative isolation, a casual lunch with friends sounded heavenly.

  “Sure,” she finally said with a tentative smile. “And who are the dusty old guys?”

  “The high council. Well, except for my father—it’ll be a few years before he fits that description.” Monica headed for the door, throwing over her shoulder, “Meet us at noon. Infirmary Three.”

  * * * * *

  “What in Peserin’s name were you thinking, Lieutenant?” Kellen demanded.

  Shauss noted with satisfaction that Zannen’s demeanor as he stood at attention was considerably less insolent than it would have been if he’d been the one dressing him down.

  “I was thinking she needed to be taken down a notch, Sir,” Zannen replied without expression.

  Kellen got right in his face, and roared, “I’m thinking your rank needs to be taken down a notch!”

  “Do what you must, Sir.”

  Kellen resumed his pacing.

  “Zannen, you are an exemplary warrior. Why would you jeopardize your career for such a petty revenge?” Without waiting for a reply, he continued. “I could possibly understand your behavior if Miss King were a copulative candidate and you, her prospective mate. But she’s not a candidate, and you’re no one’s idea of a desirable male.”

  He stopped and narrowed his eyes at Zannen. “Ketrok tells me you refused the probe he tried to issue you.”

  “I will spend my seed in a female, Sir, or not at all.”

  “I’d rethink that position if I were you, Lieutenant. You have an abundance of sexual aggression that needs to be relieved before you can conduct yourself appropriately in the presence of females. Perhaps bringing yourself to orgasm a few hundred times will improve your disposition.”