“Your forgivenezz,” she buzzed politely. “But though your zzent is on thizz food, there is another zzent as well. Izz there another chef in the kitchen? If zzo, I would like to congratulate her on an exzzelent meal.”
All right—that was it, Jillian thought. She’d never refused to come out and meet a VIP customer—it was part of being the Executive Chef at any establishment—and she wasn’t going to start refusing now. The fact that the Nebrian ambassador was being so polite and complimentary must mean that she was safe to be around. Surely it couldn’t hurt to just go out and say hello.
Straightening her Chef’s whites and running a hand over her hair, she stepped out of the kitchen and came over to the solitary table, smiling her best VIP-pleasing smile.
“Hello, I’m Chef Jillian Marks, the Executive chef here at Pat-ar,” she said, smiling at the seated ambassador, who reminded her of a giant butterfly or moth. “I helped prepare your meal tonight—I hope it was to your liking?”
“Yezz, yezz, to my liking indeed,” the ambassador buzzed. She held out one insectile hand, which was tipped with long, sharp claws to Jillian. “May I be the firzzt to congratulate you on zzuch authentic and deliciouzz jumja zzoup. It izz the bezzt I have ever had!”
“Oh, well, thank you,” Jillian began, holding out her hand automatically—you didn’t refuse to shake with a VIP, even if they looked like an extra out of an old Japanese Mothra movie. “But it was actually my new line cook, Kalis, here, who oversaw the soup.” She nodded at the big Kindred who was standing beside her, staring warily at the ambassador.
“Yezz, yezz,” Ha’choo Bless’u buzzed distractedly. She had uncurled her long proboscis again and was snuffling with great interest at Jillian’s hand.
Suddenly Kalis muttered in her ear,
“Pull your hand away!”
“What?” Jillian spoke from the corner of her mouth, trying to keep her eyes on the VIP.
“I said, pull your hand away now, Mistress,” he growled urgently. “She’s about to cycle—look at her eyes!”
Jillian stared at the Nebrian ambassador’s brilliant compound eyes. Hadn’t they been black only moments ago? But now they were red—blood red. It was unmistakable since each eye was roughly the size of a saucer.
“I said she’s cycling!” Kalis repeated. “You need to get out of here and get back to the k—”
But before he could finish his sentence, Ha’Choo Bless’u had risen from her seat and jumped directly over the table. Suddenly the long proboscis with its large, fleshy lips was snuffling all over Jillian’s face instead of her hand.
“I zzmell no male on you, lovely female,” she—or was it he now, Jillian wondered—hissed. “You have no male to enfold and implant you. How very zzad…”
“What—” Jillian started to say but at that moment the Nebrian ambassador unfolded a massive pair of brilliantly colored blue and crimson wings and wrapped them around her.
“Leave my Mistress alone,” she heard Kalis growl and a knot of anxiety formed in her stomach. Not just because of the weird insectile hug she was getting but because she feared the big Kindred would shift forms and turn into the terrifying alien bear-thing.
“I’m okay—I’m just fine,” she said loudly, though honestly, it wasn’t at all pleasant to be caught in the Nebrian’s embrace. Still, it wasn’t the first time she’d been grabbed by a drunk customer—she could handle herself.
Firmly, she put her hands against the ambassador’s narrow chest, which felt hard and cold and prickly against her palms.
“Okay now,” she said to Ha’choo Bless’u. “I’m very flattered that you like my food so much, but I really need you to let me go.”
“You zzhould be enfolded every night, lovely female,” the ambassador insisted, drawing her closer, despite her resistance.
Jillian could feel the short, sharp hairs that seemed to cover the insectile body poking her breasts and hands through her chef’s whites and scratching her thighs through the plain black trousers she was wearing for service. She tried again to push away, but the Nebrian was horribly strong.
“What’s going on? Is she all right?” she heard Commander Sylvan saying worriedly.
“The Nebrian is cycling,” Kalis said shortly. “Must have been something in the liquor that caused her to change into a him sooner than expected. What’s it made of?”
“Just fermented Woo berries,” Sylvan responded. “Should we try to pull Chef Marks away?”
“Impossible without breaking every bone in her body,” Kalis growled. “Once she was enfolded, the ambassador took a death grip on her. What we need is an antidote to the intoxication of the Woo. Some kind of oil usually works best on Nebrians.”
“I have a gallon of olive oil on the second shelf of the pantry,” Jillian called. She could hear the two males talking, but all she could see were the red compound eyes and the huge, brilliant wings which had formed a kind of cocoon around herself and the ambassador. “Hurry!” she added—she felt like she was being poked with a thousand short, sharp needles all at once!
There was the sound of running feet and then Kalis was back. She knew because one huge hand reached down between the wings and grabbed the long, curling proboscis, which was currently exploring her face with disgusting wet kisses.
The big Kindred yanked on the alien’s mouth parts and jammed them into the industrial-sized container of olive oil.
“Drink, damn you,” Jillian heard him growling. “Drink it!”
The long proboscis twitched and then Jillian heard sucking sounds. After a moment, the red compound eyes turned black again and the Nebrian ambassador slowly relaxed her—or his—tight grip on her.
Jillian breathed a sigh of relief as the large, sail-like wings unfurled and Ha’choo Bless’u curled them tightly once more against his/her back. The moment his/her prickly, branch-like arms released Jillian, Kalis grabbed her and pulled her into a tight embrace.
“Thank you, Kalis!” she exclaimed, feeling dazed as she looked up into his silver-green eyes. “But honestly, you can let me go now.”
“Not until the Nebrian sees us and understands you’re spoken for,” he growled fiercely. “Otherwise he might imprint on you for this mating cycle and come back for you,” he added.
“Oh, well in that case…” Jillian pressed a little closer into his arms. It was good to feel his warm, solid, muscular frame against her own after being held in the alien ambassador’s tight, uncomfortable embrace. Kalis seemed to surround her completely with his big body, and God, he smelled so good.
“Are you all right, Chef Marks?” she heard Commander Sylvan asking, and realized she had buried her face in Kalis’s broad chest and was breathing deeply. Was she hyperventilating? No, she decided—she had remained remarkably calm through the whole event—it was just that the scent of the big Kindred made her feel better—made her feel safe.
“I’m just fine,” she said, turning her head to look at Commander Sylvan. “Er, sorry—Kalis says this is necessary,” she added, feeling like she looked extremely unprofessional, hugging her new line cook in front of the Head of the High Council.
“That’s perfectly fine—I just wanted to be sure you were all right,” Commander Sylvan said. “Er, Ambassador Ha’choo Bless’u is going now,” he added. “I think she wanted to say something to you before she leaves.”
“She can talk to my Mistress but she can’t fucking touch her,” Kalis growled possessively. Still, he allowed Jillian to turn around so that she was facing the dining room instead of his broad chest, though he kept his arms firmly wrapped around her from behind.
“I can zzee that you have a male to enfold you after all, lovely zzhef,” the Nebrian ambassador buzzed. “Pleazze forgive me. I believe that the tasty liquor cauzzed my zzycle to zzpeed up momentarily.”
“No problem at all,” Jillian assured her, though to be honest, she was still feeling rather shaky and was glad of Kalis’s muscular arms around her. “Um…I hope you enjoyed your meal with us her
e at Pat-ar.”
“It wazz lovely. I zzhall zzerctainly return the next time I vizzet the Kindred Mother Zzhip,” the Nebrian ambassador assured her.
“Thank you, please do.” Jillian nodded. She cleared her throat. “Er, I really need to get back to the kitchen.”
“By all means, please go ahead,” Commander Sylvan said, nodding quickly. He had the look of a man who has narrowly avoided disaster, Jillian thought. Like someone driving on the highway who barely missed being sideswiped by a runaway truck.
She felt a little like that herself—still shaky and uncertain—so she didn’t protest when Kalis swung her into his arms and marched back to the kitchen with her.
31
Jillian laid her had on Kalis’s broad shoulder and let him carry her, though a little voice in the back of her head was saying that she probably shouldn’t let herself get so close.
It’s dangerous! the little voice insisted. Remember what he turns into, Jillian!
But he hadn’t this time, she reminded herself. Things had gotten crazy with the Nebrian ambassador, but he hadn’t shifted into the huge, fearsome beast that scared the hell out of her. Instead, he had handled the situation smoothly and gracefully. She had a lot to thank him for.
But just because she was grateful, didn’t mean she was going to have a repeat of the intimate massage from the day before, she told herself firmly. No matter how good the big Kindred smelled or how much she liked being held by him, she wasn’t about to jump into any kind of sexual relationship—or any kind of relationship at all, for that matter—with him.
Remember what happened with Brad when you let him sweep you off your feet—you need to take things slowly! she told herself.
So once they were through the swinging metal doors and safely back in the kitchen, she patted Kalis’s broad chest and slipped out of his arms.
“Mistress, wait…” He didn’t seem to want her to go.
“I’m ‘Chef’ when we’re in the kitchen together and ‘Jillian’ outside it, remember?” Jillian reminded him crisply. “Thank you for rescuing me,” she added, not wanting to seem ungrateful. “That was…a really sticky situation.”
He nodded.
“There must have been some kind of compound in the Woo berries that accelerated the cycle. I’ve only seen it happen once before, back on Yonnie Six.”
“But I thought you said the Yonnites will only meet with Nebrians when they’re in the middle of their female cycle?” Jillian asked.
He nodded grimly.
“Now they will. It was after my Mistress’s run-in with one that was cycling towards male that they made that rule. Kind of a cautionary tale, you know?”
“I can see why.” Jillian tried to laugh, but couldn’t quite manage it. The sound that came out of her mouth was tense rather than amused. “Would…would it really have tried to…to mate with me?” she asked uncertainly. “If it thought I didn’t have a, uh…” How had the ambassador put it? Oh right… “If I hadn’t had a ‘male to enfold’ me?” she asked.
Kalis gave her a serious look.
“It might have tried, but I wouldn’t have let that happen to you, Jillian. I swore to protect you with my life, remember?”
Jillian felt her heart start to pound, but she tried to keep her voice light.
“I told you—I release you from any kind of, uh, service to me, Kalis. You don’t have to keep the promise you made when Mistress Douchenbag was ‘selling’ you to me.”
“Of course I’ll still keep it,” he murmured, his voice going deep and quiet as he looked down at her. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek in one big, warm hand. “A Kindred warrior never breaks his oath.”
Jillian could feel a blush starting in her cheeks and her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to get out of her chest. She shouldn’t let him touch her this way—she knew she shouldn’t. Here in the kitchen, she was his boss and it was important to keep that distinction intact.
But you keep telling him over and over again that you’re not his boss—not his Mistress, whispered a little voice in her head. How do you expect him to act, when you keep telling him that you don’t own him and he’s free to do what he wants?
And apparently right now, what the big Kindred wanted to do was kiss her. He was bending down and Jillian was actually leaning up towards him when the kitchen door opened and Commander Sylvan came striding in.
“Commander Sylvan!” Jillian jumped away from Kalis as though she’d been stung. “Is everything all right?” she asked, hoping her cheeks weren’t too red.
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Sylvan said. He had a concerned look on his face. “Er, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” he asked, looking between her and Kalis.
“No, no—not at all,” Jillian said quickly. “Kalis was just, er, looking to make sure I was all right.”
“I was worried that the Nebrian ambassador’s prickers might have scratched Chef Jillian,” Kalis put in.
“Prickers?” Sylvan frowned.
Kalis made a one-handed gesture.
“Spines—whatever you want to call those short, stiff hairs all over the Nebrian’s body. They can cause a nasty reaction if they scratch your skin.”
“Can they?” Sylvan looked concerned. “Are you all right, Chef Marks? Should we take you down to the Med Center for a complete exam?”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s not necessary,” Jillian protested.
But just to be sure, she looked down at herself. Though she had felt the spines of the ambassador poking into her, they didn’t seem to have torn or ripped her clothes. She must have just been feeling them through the cloth—thank goodness her Chef’s whites and work trousers were made of sturdy material, she thought! As for the palms of her hands where she had touched the Nebrian’s chest, they were a little red but nothing to worry about.
“I think I’m fine,” she said at last, shrugging. “Though I wouldn’t have been without your quick thinking—thank you again, Kalis,” she added, speaking formally to the big Kindred.
“Yes—that was quick thinking,” Sylvan agreed. “You defused what could have been an extremely explosive situation without harming our negotiations. Many thanks, Brother—the Mother Ship owes you a debt.”
“There’s no debt,” Kalis said. “I was simply protecting my Mistress, as I have sworn to.” His eyes never left Jillian’s face as he talked, speaking in that same soft, deep voice that seemed to melt her from the inside out.
Jillian’s heart was thumping again, but she tried to ignore it and be professional.
“Thank you again for choosing Pat-ar for your negotiations, Commander Sylvan,” she said, giving him her best Executive Chef smile and holding out her hand. “I hope the little, er, incident didn’t damage the diplomatic relationship between the Nebrians and the Kindred.”
“Not at all,” Sylvan said, taking her hand and shaking it firmly. “Though we are moving Ambassador Ha’choo Bless’u to a separate shuttle to seal the negotiations and sign the contracts. We’ll have nothing but males in attendance,” he added.
“Smart move.” Kalis nodded his head. “You should be fine, then, with no females around.”
“I’m just glad I didn’t bring my own mate, Sophia,” Sylvan remarked. “I might have gone into Rage if the ambassador had threatened her. But you kept a remarkably cool head on your shoulders,” he said to Kalis. “Despite the fact that Chef Marks was in danger. Not many warriors are able to hold back their Rage in such a situation.”
Kalis nodded gravely.
“Thank you. I have to keep a tight reign on my temper to keep my Ursus in check.”
“Well, you certainly did tonight.” Sylvan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you again and if you’ll both excuse me, I have to go and see to the rest of these negotiations.”
“I hope for your sake it doesn’t take long,” Jillian offered. She thought that the Head of the Kindred High Council looked rather harried and exhausted.
�
��Thank you—I hope not too,” Sylvan said.
And nodding at both of them, he left the kitchen.
32
They cleaned up in silence, mainly because Jillian didn’t know what else to say and she was afraid if they started talking too much, she’d want to fall into Kalis’s arms again.
Be careful, she warned herself, as she tried to keep up her “professional chef” image, like a wall around herself. You’re falling for this guy and you’ve only known him a day or two. Remember how fast you fell for Brad and how badly it turned out.
But she couldn’t help thinking about how good it had felt to be held in Kalis’s warm, muscular arms and his scent was still all around her, mixing with the spicy aromas of the food they’d prepared together.
Still, Jillian managed to keep herself from doing anything she would regret and when they finished cleaning the kitchen, she was able to hold her head high and give Kalis her most professional smile.
“Thank you again and goodnight, Kalis—I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He grinned at her.
“Then I got the job?”
Jillian smiled back.
“You got it. And not just because you saved me from being attacked by a giant, horny butterfly. You’re a great cook and I think you’ll be an excellent addition to Pat-ar’s kitchen.”
He’d be an excellent addition to your bed, too, whispered a naughty little voice in her head. Jillian did her best to push it away. Slow—she needed to take things slow! There was no way she was going to repeat the headlong dash into love and romance that had gotten her in trouble with her ex, no matter how attracted she was to the big Kindred.
“Thank you, Chef,” Kalis murmured, looking down at her. “I’ll work hard for you.”
“I know you will. Well…” Jillian manufactured a yawn. “It’s been a long day. I need to get back to my suite.”
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