The Ambassador's Daughter

by Theodora Lane

  Stephen was well aware of the situation.

  “I don’t plan on ‘blowing’ this. I’m in love with her, Granddad, truthfully. She’s…different, independent, beautiful…she’s everything.” He sighed, remembering Brett and his first kiss…those subsequent kisses…the kisses yet to come.

  “Make sure you don’t. I want you to speak to her father soon, in fact, before any of the other young bucks get wind of her. What if I have a dinner right here in Brandon House? Break out the best china? Have your mother and her father over and broach the subject? Could save us the broker fee, eh?” The duke was always looking to cut out the middleman. He hated waste. His love of simplicity was one of the reasons so many of the new weapons experts sought him out. He could cut right to the chase with no slop.

  “I like the idea. You’ll like Ambassador Butler, Granddad. He’s very interesting and a war hero, like you. Bet you two could swap stories all night.” Stephen smiled fondly at his grandfather.

  “I’m not worried about him. I’m worried about your mother.” He waved his hand in the air. “You know how she is. She isn’t fond of off-worlders, but I’m hoping her desire to see you married and producing heirs will override her doubts.”

  Before Stephen could answer, Blalock entered the room and announced dinner awaited in the small dining room. The two men rose, and the younger Brandon stepped to the side, deferring to the elder Brandon and following behind him.

  Chapter Eight

  Saturday night found Stephen and Brett sitting across from each other at a table for two in a quiet restaurant. The table was just small enough for them to hold hands without straining and to hold a quiet conversation, but placed them just far enough apart to not reach easily for a kiss.

  “May I address you as Brett?” he asked.

  “Of course. If I may call you Stephen.” She winked at him.

  “I’d like it, Brett.” He nodded, then looked down at the table and fiddled with the silverware.

  “You seem distracted, Stephen.” Brett smiled at him. This was their first real date alone. Stephen looked relaxed in his military tan cammo fatigues, except for his eyes. To her, they looked tired.

  “I’m sorry, Brett, but I’ve got a problem at work, and my mind can’t seem to stop worrying it.” He smiled crookedly at her. “It’s a bad habit of mine you’ll have to get used to. I tend to bring my work home.”

  “I understand. Is there anything I can help you with? Bounce your ideas off me? Vent your anger at some poor underling or supervisor?” She’d seen her father talk things over with her mother as an equal when he’d been troubled by something. Any man Brett chose would be expected to do the same.

  “No, I don’t think so. Some of the stuff I deal with is strictly confidential, some not, and some a very murky mix.” He shrugged. “I promise to put it aside and concentrate on you.” He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back.

  Perhaps he’d open up to her in time.

  Their dinner came, pasta and meat sauce for him and a large salad for her. They began to eat, but Stephen soon lapsed into silence. Then, with an audible exhale, he started to talk.

  “You see,” he began, “my job is to monitor transmissions coming from space. I go through mountains of them each day. Two weeks ago I came across a piece of a transmission. But it was so peculiar it set off the alarms on my computer. I backtracked a little but couldn’t find the rest of the message. It had disappeared.” He looked at her for understanding. She nodded to encourage him to continue.

  “It leads me to some bad conclusions if I look at the subject matter and from where the message was sent. What I don’t know is where they were sent to and who sent them.” He shook his head.

  “What does your instinct tell you, Stephen?”

  “That this is wrong and perhaps dangerous.” His voice dropped down a notch. “It’s about some sort of weapon, but it doesn’t make sense.” His eyes looked troubled.

  “Have you gone to your commanding officer about this?”

  “No, I’m not sure what would happen if I did. It was sent by someone in one of the embassies. There is a question of diplomatic immunity. It could just get swept under the rug, be made to disappear, and would make me even crazier.” He ran his hand through his hair, trying to sweep it back from his forehead where it fell so carelessly.

  “Is there someone else you could talk to, perhaps out of the chain of command, but still in the loop?” she offered.

  “No, I don’t think so. I’ll just have to keep on this myself. Perhaps if I get a break and some more evidence turns up, I can move on it.” He shrugged and smiled at her. “You’re good to put up with me.”

  “Don’t forget, I was a soldier once too. I understand about duty and about having a job to do.” She looked at him, her gaze steady and even, then added, “You don’t ever have to apologize about it, Stephen.”

  “Thanks, Brett.”

  “What for?”

  “For accepting me as I am.” The warmth in his eyes spoke to her, and she smiled back at him.

  “If it's what I want for myself, I certainly can’t deny it to you.” She paused. “This might be dangerous, Stephen, are you sure you want to delve deeper?”

  “I’m paid to do dangerous, Brett. Yes, I have to figure this out, it’s who I am, what I am.” His hand made a fist and hit the table softly.

  “Then, you should get to it, soldier,” Brett said in her best major's voice. Stephen smiled, and then cupping her chin, pulled her to him across the gap and kissed her.

  Again, Brett melted into him, her body aching for more. But, aware of their location and people around them, she pulled back, and smiled.

  They finished their meal, Stephen paid the bill, and they left.

  As they walked home, they held hands and occasionally stopped to kiss. Brett couldn’t remember a time she’d been happier at the start of a romance. And this was only their first date. They'd spanned the differences in their culture, found common ground, and started the process of getting to know each other.

  It was the perfect time to mention the call she’d received.

  “I’m having lunch with your Grandfather the day after tomorrow. He called me today and asked if I would visit with him, to talk.”

  “You know, you don’t have to entertain him, Brett.” He grinned.

  “In fact, I’m growing quite fond of him. He’s very straightforward, and I like it. He is going to teach me to play bridge, and I’m going to teach him to play poker.” She laughed.

  “I’m surprised he would play a betting game. He’s tight with money. I used to say he squeaked when he walked.” Stephen laughed. “When I was little I was always asking for toys, candy, that sort of thing. He would always tell me no right then, but later, somehow the things I asked for would appear.” He shook his head.

  “Yes, I’ve already figured out his bark is worse than his bite. Gruff on the outside, tender on the inside.” They paused on a corner. “He would have to be to deal with a small boy who’d lost his father.”

  Stephen looked down at his feet, paused, and then his gaze came up to meet hers. “Does it sound silly to say I really love the old man?”

  “No, it doesn’t. He’s a good man, Stephen.” She squeezed his hand.

  “I used to think I wanted to be just like my dad, but I don’t really remember what he was like. I was so young when he died. Now I want to be just like my granddad.” He grinned shyly. He thought for a second, and then added, “Perhaps my dad wanted to be like his dad, and was, so by being like my granddad I’m really being like my dad.” He laughed as he ran his hand through his hair. “Does it make any sense at all?”

  Brett nodded. “In a roundabout way, yes. Like grandfather, like father, like son. Sort of a family legacy, if you will.”

  “Exactly, you do understand!” He slipped his arm around her waist as they walked.

  “I learned early when you stand in the light of a great man’s eyes you have to stand a little bit taller. We’re a lot
alike, Stephen. We’ve both stood in a similar light, and we’ve both stood a bit taller.” She held him tight and gazed into his eyes. He hugged her to him, and then let her go.

  Searching her eyes he whispered, “I want you, Brett.” He kissed her softly at first. He pulled her next to the building they were standing by, put her up against the wall, and pressed his body to hers. She leaned into him and felt his excitement.

  When they finally parted, Brett sighed and pushed away from the wall. They continued down the street until they reached her house. Stephen walked her up the stairs and then kissed her goodnight.

  “Come in.” Brett put her hand on the door.

  “But your father?”

  “Has gone out for the evening.” She opened the door and leaned against it, making a most tempting picture.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  “We’re adults, Stephen. Consenting.”

  He nodded.

  “Come in. I won’t ask again.” She slipped through the door and with a deep breath, Stephan followed.

  Inside, the dimly lit foyer was empty. Brett moved to the stair, held out her hand, and Stephen took it.

  They bounded up the stairs to her room. Stephen’s heart raced along with the blood pounding, flooding his cock at just the thought of being with Brett. Body to body, skin to skin. Sinking deep inside her.

  She laughed as she closed the door behind them and locked it. What he could only describe as a wicked joy filled her eyes. She wanted this as much as he did, thank God.

  He pulled her toward the bed and she stumbled into his arms. He held her, then closed the gap between them, kissing her, staking a claim on her mouth.

  Brett moaned. She slipped her hand down and cupped his sex.

  He growled. “Brett. Don’t tease.”

  “Not teasing.” She smiled up at him. “Just testing.”

  “Did I pass?”

  She squeezed him and he groaned. “With flying colors.”

  She held on and stepped back, guiding him to the bed. When she let him go, she slipped the jacket off his shoulders. “You’re wearing…” she unbuttoned his shirt “…too many clothes.”

  “As are you.” He kicked off his shoes.

  He reached around to unzip her dress. She lowered her arms and shimmied out of it. It fell to the ground, leaving her in only a bra and panties. Stephen swallowed hard as his cock jerked.

  Brett was so beautiful his heart hurt. Full breasts barely restrained by the soft pink bra. Her hips rounded from a small waist. Matching pink panties covered her mound. The urge to rip them both off with his teeth swelled in his chest.

  “Stephen.” She stamped her foot. “Your clothes?”

  He’d been staring at her. Stephen unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants and let them fall, stepping out of them. She unbuttoned the last one and he took off his shirt.

  Brett ran her hands over his chest, playing her fingers in the hair on his chest.

  “You’re…” she licked her lips. “Gorgeous. I want to lick you. Everywhere.”

  Stephen gasped as she leaned forward and flicked her tongue over his nipple.

  “Get out of your bra and panties before I rip them off.” He growled, unable to keep it inside.

  She unhooked her bra and tossed it, baring her breasts. Deep pink nipples. Creamy skin. God, he wanted her.

  When she pushed her panties down, exposing her mound and the dark hair covering it, he almost spilled.

  “Stephen. I need you.” She ran her hands over her belly, up to her breasts, teasing him with her touches.

  “I’m here.” Stephen leaned down, brushed her hand away, and captured a nipple in his mouth. He rolled his tongue around it, suckled, and Brett moaned. She buried her fingers in his hair and held him close to her.

  He let it go and moved to the other one, to give it attention. Brett gasped and arched into his mouth, pushing her breast deeper in. He picked her up, cradling her in his arms and moved to the bed.

  Stephen lowered her on it and gazed down at her.

  “Brett, I want you.”

  She stared up at him, hunger in her eyes. “Want you.”

  He pushed off his briefs, and his cock, hard and full, snapped up.

  Brett gasped, but she reached for him.

  He took her hand, but stopped. “Brett, are you protected?”

  She nodded. “I have an implant.”

  He exhaled. “Thank God. Because I’d hate to have stopped, but I would never put you in a compromised situation. You know it, don’t you?”

  “I know.” She smiled and reached for him again. “Come here.”

  He lowered himself to the bed, lying next to her. They kissed as he ran his hand over her body, exploring her.

  She welcomed him, never once flinching or shifting away, but arching and pushing toward him, eager and willing. Sure this was the right thing for both of them.

  Brett spread her legs. He took it as an invitation and cupped her mound. She moaned as he slipped his fingers between her folds. He wanted to taste her, rub his face in her honey. He wanted to do things he’d never done with another woman, to her. With her.

  She was ready, wet and warm and his ardor grew, along with his shaft, now aching to find its home in Brett. She cried out, and thrust upward. “Now, Stephen. I need you now.”

  He covered her, working her legs wider, as he guided his cock to her opening. She grabbed his hips, digging her fingers into his flesh, and pulled him closer. He held his body up with one arm and she wrapped her legs around his thighs.

  Stephen entered Brett, sliding slow and sure into her depths. They locked gazes, heat burning in her eyes, and he leaned down to kiss her. He wanted to treasure her, take it slow, but Brett had other ideas.

  She thrust up, sending him deeper. “I’m not made of glass, Stephen. Don’t hold back. I want you.”

  So he didn’t. They made love, bodies and hearts entwined. If he thought he loved her before, this assured it. She was his and he wanted her to be his wife, to bear his children. To spend every night tangled up with her, just like this.

  When she came, she arched, cried out his name, and clenched so tightly he couldn’t move. Her tunnel held his cock captive, and when she finished, he could only pump a few more times before he succumbed to his own release.

  Afterward, they lay together, trying to catch their breaths. He rolled onto his side and kissed her. “I love you.”

  She gave a laugh filled with joy. “I love you, too.”

  “When do you think your father will return?” He glanced over at the clock on her bedside table. It was nearing ten thirty.

  “I hope not before midnight.” She pushed back on her pillows, and run her fingers through the hair on his chest. “But…”

  “I should probably leave.” The last thing he wanted was being caught sneaking out of the house, the smell of sex and Brett covering him.

  She snuggled close, laying her head on his shoulder. “Yes. Probably.”

  “What would your father do if he caught me?”

  “Shoot you.”

  “What?” Stephen sat up. Brett laughed and slapped him on the chest.

  “Just kidding. Nothing. I’m a grown woman.”

  Stephen moved to the side of the bed. “Better get dressed and get out of here. I don’t relish being shot.”

  She sat up, the sheets gathered around her, her hair tumbled across her shoulders. God, she was beautiful. He dressed and sat to put on his shoes.

  He leaned over and kissed her. “Best be on my way.”

  Brett got out of bed, went to her closet and came back, shrugging into a dressing gown. “I’ll come with you to let you out.”

  At the front door, Stephen lingered as they shared a parting kiss.

  “I’ll call you in the morning, love.”

  “Love. I like it.” Brett grinned as she watched him back down the stairs.

  With a final wave, he strode off down the street to search for a cab to take him home.

&n
bsp;  •●• 

  After telling the driver to stop, Duke Brandon waited for the door to be opened. He stepped out and looked around. It had been a long time since he’d been to the park stables, too long to bother counting the years. His horses were in the country, stabled at the estate upland and cared for by the small staff kept on grounds during the off-season. There were not many horses left, only four, and they were getting older.

  Stephen and he rode when they were both younger, but with his age and Stephen’s duties, there hadn’t been much call for the horses over the last ten or so years. Nevertheless, he couldn’t bear to part with them. He still loved just seeing them grazing in the pastures behind the estate manse, along with the small flock of sheep he kept.

  “You, boy, do you know where I could find Miss Butler?” he called to a passing stable boy carrying a bucket of oats in each hand.

  “Yes, milord!” The boy came to attention at the sight of the Duke’s uniform. “She’s got Black out in the far paddock, sir. Just follow the path next to the rail, and it’ll take you there.”

  The duke nodded curtly to the boy. “Thank you.” The boy grinned and went on his way, swinging the buckets in time to his steps.

  Duke Brandon motioned for his driver to wait, and he started toward the paddock area. The first large paddock was covered in green grass and several horses grazed in it. They wore halters, and one wore a green blanket. Good-looking animals, and he paused to check them out, more out of habit than interest.

  The far paddock was larger. Perhaps at one time it doubled as a polo field. Brett and Black were easy to spot, since they were the only occupants.

  Brandon leaned on the rail and watched. Black was indeed a magnificent animal, shiny black from nose to tail, but with an artist’s brush splatter of white across his rump. He was grazing lazily, with Brett stretched out across his back, her head resting on his rump and one of her legs dangling over his side, the other bent and resting on his withers. A large straw hat covered her face, but her long braid hung over the horse’s side. She wore blue jeans, Old Earth style, and a man’s shirt, tied at the waist and with the too-long sleeves rolled up. She might have been sleeping.