The minister’s brows rose as he sank into his chair. “You cut it.”
“That’s what I said, sir.”
Shelley held her breath. God only knew how the minister would react to such a surly reply.
“Indeed,” Cecine murmured. “Is this a premeditated hairstyle or were you improvising?”
“I was inebriated, sir.”
“Ah, that explains much, Ensign. Thank you for your candor.” The minister turned toward her. “And how do you fare this morning, Ms. Bonham?”
She stared back at him. That was it? That was all he had to say? No explosion of anger? No expression of remorse?
Did the bastard not have one iota of compassion for the man who was obviously suffering because of him?
“I’m fine, thank you,” she said stiffly.
“Excellent. And the twins?”
Shelley gasped. The twins. She narrowed her eyes on him. There was no way she was letting him near her children ever again.
Cecine was tearing apart his bun, pondering the decidedly odd atmosphere at the breakfast table, when Shelley pushed back her chair and marched around to stand by his with her hands propped on her hips.
“How dare you!”
Startled, he glanced over his shoulder. No, she was definitely addressing him. Her mood had swung back into aggressive territory, which could be quite entertaining.
“Could you be more specific, Ms. Bonham?” he asked blandly, dipping a piece of bread in the jelly bowl. “That’s a rather broad inquiry and the list of what I dare is quite lengthy.”
“You want me to be more specific? Fine. How dare you assault Hastion?”
“What!” Hastion’s mug thudded onto the table. “Shelley, no!”
Cecine dropped the bread and gripped the edge of the table with both hands, instantly consumed by emotions too complex and conflicted to process. His face burned with mortification, and his stomach curled with dread and remorse. Peserin’s hell, he must have done the ensign more harm than he’d realized when he took him so violently. But why had Hastion gone to Shelley with the tale of how ill he’d been used rather than confronting him directly?
“I beg your pardon,” he said sickly, unable to look at his second.
She glared back at him. “You heard me.”
“Shelley, please, you’re making a terrible mistake,” Hastion said desperately. “I told you, I was injured in a sparring accident.”
She turned to him. “Hastion, I’ve been a nurse for ten years and heard every excuse under the sun. You can’t make domestic abuse go away by pretending it isn’t happening. I know the minister’s job is really high stress, but as your lover, he’s supposed to take care of you, not take out his frustrations on you.”
“Peserin, please let me die now,” Hastion groaned.
Cecine finally looked at him, searching for evidence of abuse. Peserin, he had been injured, but he must have gone to the infirmary to have the healing accelerated—the bruising had already faded enough it was barely noticeable under the fringe of newly shorn hair.
Relief left Cecine almost lightheaded. He hadn’t done his second irreparable harm. “Sparring accident?”
Hastion wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Yes, sir.”
Instantly, rage began to burn under Cecine’s skin. Who dared attack what was his? “What happened, Ensign?”
“Nothing that need concern you, sir.”
“I beg to differ,” Cecine snapped. “I want the truth, Ensign, and I want it now. What happened to your face?”
Hastion’s jaw tensed. “If you must know, sir, my sparring partner caught me by surprise with an illegal hold yesterday. He’s been corrected.”
“Who was he?”
“I’d rather not say, sir.”
“I’d rather you told me his name and let me surprise him with a few illegal maneuvers in the sparring arena.”
When the ensign remained silent, Cecine narrowed his eyes. “Very well. Empran, whom did Ensign Hastion spar with yesterday?”
Hastion sprang to his feet. “Sir!”
“Ensign Mikal,” Empran replied at once.
When Cecine repeated the name darkly, Hastion surprised him by planting his clenched fists on the table and leaning into his face in a manner that could almost be perceived as intimidating. “I’m telling you, sir, this is not your concern. I’ve already handled the matter myself, and with all due respect, the last thing I need at this point is to be defended by you.”
Then he straightened to glare at Shelley. “Correction. That’s the second-to-last thing I need. The very last thing I need is to be defended by a tiny, demented female with more hair than sense. I’m already a target, Shelley. If the crew find out that you protected me from my…my male lover…” His mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before he said, “Just leave me alone.”
Then he turned and walked out.
Cecine stared after him for a moment and then turned his attention to Shelley, who’d gone pale as a specter.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, rubbing her arms as if chilled.
“Why in the name of all the Powers would you imagine I’d attacked him, you foolish female?” he growled.
“Well it seemed like a reasonable assumption. We were already concerned that you might be using your power to…um…make him have sex with you, and—”
“What!” he thundered, storming to his feet. “Who do you think you are to suggest such a thing?”
She cowered, covering her head with her arms.
“Oh, for Peserin’s sake!” He breathed deeply for a moment, telling himself she had very good reason to fear him.
When he could speak without roaring, he said, “Ms. Bonham, I’m not going to hurt you. Although punishment is not out of the question,” he added as she lowered her arms warily. “I’m reserving judgment until I have all the facts, but unless you have a damned good reason for insulting me so grievously, I won’t hesitate to administer a proper spanking to your delectable little ass.”
Fire sparked in her blue eyes. “Look, sir, first and foremost, I am a nurse and I don’t give a damn about your megalomaniacal alien ego. All I care about is Hastion. He’s been unhappy for weeks. We’ve all noticed it. And then he suddenly turns up with a bruised face and cuts off his own hair with a fucking dagger? It looked like a cry for help to me. What was I supposed to do, just let him self-destruct out of concern for your pride?”
Cecine blinked. The barrage of insults was delivered at such a furious pace he could hardly comprehend them all. He shook with the urge to take her over his knee and deliver a spanking that wouldn’t allow her to sit for the rest of their voyage.
At the same time, he felt a surge of admiration for the courage she displayed in challenging him. Under any other circumstances, he would be quite proud of her.
But what gave him pause and made him grind his teeth in frustration was the element of truth in what she said. The ensign was unhappy. Was he a less willing participant in their activities than he would admit? Had he found bottoming more distasteful than he expected but felt honor-bound to continue?
The notion was enough to make Cecine’s gorge rise.
“We,” he said suddenly, narrowing his eyes on her. “You said we were concerned. Who else believes I might be raping my loyal guard? Or need I even ask?”
Shelley bit her lip, looking very guilty. “Really, sir, it was just me. I—”
“Sit down. Now!” he snapped. “Commander Kellen and Lieutenant Shauss, escort your females to my dining room at once.”
She scrambled back to her seat. “Really, sir—”
“Quiet!”
Kellen and Shauss appeared within a minute, escorting their wary females.
Without preamble, the minister said, “I understand there is some speculation that the sexual interaction between Ensign Hastion and me might be nonconsensual.”
Shauss’s eyes grew sharp.
Jasmine flinched and reached for his hand.
Kellen sighed.
>
Monica closed her eyes. “Oh shit, Shelley, what did you do?”
Shelley’s stomach churned. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”
“It takes more than one person to conduct a conversation,” the minister said coldly. “Monica, if you had concerns about the nature of my relationship with Hastion, why did you not bring them directly to me?”
For once, it seemed Monica’s smart mouth wasn’t racing ahead of her brain. She looked back at him for a long time before saying, “I’m sorry, Father, you’re right. I should have come to you. I knew you wouldn’t force him, but I should have made certain you were aware of his submissive nature.”
“Of course I’m aware of it,” Cecine said impatiently. “Why do you think I selected him?”
“With all due respect, Minister,” Kellen said, “as her primary bondmate and the commander of this vessel, I believe Monica should have come to me with her concerns and let me determine the proper course of action.”
Monica gave him a sidelong look. “I can talk to my own father, Kellen.”
“I agree with the commander, Monica,” Cecine said. “Males are ruled by reason rather than emotion, and we act on the basis of fact rather than idle gossip and foolish speculation. He could have assured you your concerns were groundless and saved us all this foolishness.”
Shelley’s eyes widened as Monica’s narrowed. That was so not the thing to say to her, especially after she’d been so reasonable.
“There are none so blind as those who will not see,” Monica said in a low voice.
Nobody spoke. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, no doubt. Everyone else must think the same thing she did, that Monica’s cryptic statement was merely the springboard for an impending tirade.
Apparently it wasn’t.
“That’s a very profound sentiment, Monica,” Cecine finally said.
She raised a sardonic brow at him. “Coming from such an idle, foolish female, you mean.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“I’m sorry, I must have misheard you then.”
He looked at her sharply. “Indeed.”
After a long moment, he glanced around at each of them. “As to Ensign Hastion—not that it’s anyone’s business but our own—he and I have a formal agreement in place specifying the exact nature of the relationship between us. He is in no danger from me or anyone else.”
“If that’s true, why did Ensign Mikal use an illegal hold to give him two black eyes?” Shelley challenged.
Monica gasped. “Why, that miserable little—”
“The ensign claims to have dealt with Mikal, Monica, and I will show him the respect he is due by believing him. I expect everyone else to do the same,” Cecine said with a warning look at Shelley. “Understood?”
She crossed her arms. “Fine.”
Shauss stared at her through narrowed eyes. “You confronted the minister because you thought he’d assaulted Hastion.”
“Yes,” she said in a low tone, “and Hastion’s furious at me too. But I’d do it again if I thought the minister was hurting him in any way,” she added with a defiant look at the minister.
“Ms. Bonham,” Cecine growled. “If you’re wise, you will return to your quarters and stay there until I no longer feel the urge to spank you.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice.
That afternoon, while the babies napped and Tara and Janelle played board games with the other recruits in the atrium, Shelley sat on the couch under the flare window, watching the unmoving stars. Now that she’d had a chance to think about it, she felt truly terrible. Why in God’s name had she been so willing to believe the worst of Minister Cecine, especially after all he’d done for her and her parents?
Yes, she was uncomfortable and self-conscious knowing he’d had a hand in issuing her probe, but that was no excuse. No matter how invasive it felt, he’d done something nice for her. Again.
God, was it the envy factor? She did find both him and Hastion disconcertingly hot, and knowing they were doing each other made her feel kind of pouty and left out. Which was ridiculous because she had no claim on either of them and never would. But she couldn’t help it—she knew enough about them both to want them. Both. Together, apart, any way she could get them.
And that night in his living room—in his arms—she’d thought maybe Cecine wanted her too. The memory of his unbreakable hold still sent shivers through her.
She frowned. This morning he’d called her chunky ass delectable. Did he really think that?
Part of her said, Of course he does, you moron. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to flatter you.
But the other part, the self-conscious, insecure part, said, Why would he? You’re short and fat and basically useless to a Garathani male. He’s just trying to get to you the way Mark did.
But what would he have to gain by making her think he found her attractive? It still made no sense.
Unless he wanted her babies.
Her stomach flipped at the thought. She hadn’t forgotten the way he’d looked at Kallie in the infirmary right after she was born, the way he’d kissed her head. It had scared her then. Maybe it should still scare her. He’d certainly managed to work his way into the twins’ good graces over the last few months. Both of them went to him as easily as they did Hastion.
“Oh stop!” she said out loud. Cecine was the most powerful man in the universe, and possibly the busiest. Plus, he already had two sons and a daughter of his own. Why would he want her kids?
“Shelley,” said Empran, “Ensign Hastion requests an audience with you.”
Shelley straightened. “Let him in, please.”
“Affirmative.”
As she stood up, the door opened. Hastion waited in the corridor, wearing a tentative smile and carrying a petite bouquet of daisies.
There were florists in space?
“May I come in?” he asked.
Her heart pounded. “Of course.”
When the door closed behind him, he held out the flowers. “For you, Shelley.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did. Words can’t express how sorry I am for my behavior earlier. However erroneous your conclusions might have been, you were very courageous to defend me the way you did, and I was ungrateful and childish.”
Bursting with relief, she said, “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have talked to you first, I guess, but I just lost my head in the heat of the moment. Will you forgive me?”
“If you’ll forgive me.”
She stuck out her hand. “It’s a deal.”
He took it, but instead of shaking, he leaned down and kissed the back of it. “Thank you.”
“Thank you.”
He stood there looking at her for a long moment, still holding her hand. Then he grinned sheepishly. “Is your offer to rescue my hair still open?”
She laughed. “Ah, so that’s why you brought me flowers.”
“Actually, my research indicated that Terran men express penitence by offering flowers to their—to the females they’ve offended, and I desperately wanted to express penitence.”
To their what? What had he almost said?
Though curiosity was killing her, she said, “Well, you’re doing a fine job even without the flowers. Let me put these in some water and I’ll get my scissors.”
After she’d popped the cheery white blooms into a cup and set them on her bedside table, she dug scissors and a comb out of the beauty kit she’d grabbed from home.
“These might not be very sharp,” she told Hastion as she returned to the sitting area. “I haven’t used them in years.”
“I’m sure anything you do will look better than this.”
Shelley looked around at the overstuffed couch and chairs. “Hmm, I always did this at Mom’s kitchen table, but I don’t have any dinette chairs.”
Hastion promptly knelt and sat back on his heels. “Will this do?”
The sight of him on his knee
s, peering up at her from under his long, dark lashes, squeezed the air from her lungs. God, he was so beautiful.
“Great,” she croaked.
Clearing her throat, she stepped behind him and started combing through the thick mess. It reminded her of overgrown grass, spiky and uneven, yet soft as velvet. Once she’d determined the natural lay of the land, she went to work combing up rows between her fingers and trimming off the excess. It looked as if he’d hacked up from the bottom, leaving the longest patches on top. He was lucky he hadn’t sliced off an ear.
“I can keep it longer on top if you’d like,” she said.
“Whatever you think is best.”
When she moved to trim around his ears, she noticed his eyes were closed. “You’re very trusting.”
“You could hardly make it look worse,” he replied lazily. “And the tugging on my scalp is very enjoyable. I might have to keep my hair short from now on just to experience this regularly.”
“How come you don’t have stripes like Shauss and Pony Boy?”
“Pony Boy?”
“Ensign Holligan.”
Hastion shrugged. “Why do you have curls when Monica and Jasmine don’t?”
“Ah.”
She moved in front of him and sifted through his hair to make sure she hadn’t missed any strays. The sides lay nicely but the top stood up like a bottle brush. A soft, inviting bottle brush.
“You said you would have asked Jasmine to do this, but…”
He opened his eyes. “I’m ashamed to say I’ve been avoiding her.”
“Why?”
After a long hesitation, he confessed, “Because where she is, there her mates often are, and I am…” He sighed heavily. “It shames me to say this, but I’m envious of what they have.”
“What do they have?”
“Love,” he said simply. “They all love each other. Even Shauss and Tiber.”
She blinked before studiously resuming her search for stray hairs. “Now that surprises me. I knew they were lovers, but I guess it didn’t occur to me that they were actually in love.”
“Shauss is an intensely possessive male, and very protective. He would not subject Tiber to the petty cruelty of others by displaying his affection. He is all too aware that males often react maliciously to things they do not understand.”
Amorous Overnight Page 16