Alien, Mine (34 page)

He smiled. “That can be arranged.”

“Oh no! I can’t stay. I’ve got to go to New Earth and coordinate things.”

He straightened and gazed down into her beloved face. “How did you return to the ship?”

“I threatened the pilot.”

A grin pulled his lips wide. “I imagine Dexter backed you up?”

“Ah-huh. I don’t know who scared him more, Dexter or me. Of course, it could have been Kendril unclipping her sidearm.”

He threw his head back and laughed with all the joy bubbling through him. “I may have to promote her to sergeant.”

A voice from the comm-system interrupted and he answered. “Yes, Captain?”

“Will the Ambassador be delayed much longer?”

He gazed down into Sandrea’s eyes, their love cocooning them in a mantle of happiness.

“Must you go?”

“You know I do.”

Disappointment pushed a sigh from his lungs. “I suppose so. I will miss you.”

Her warm hands clasped his face and her regard drilled deep into him. “Eugen, you are more of a man than any man I have ever met. Understood?”

The grace of Sandrea’s love, her commitment, fired his every sense. Too moved to speak, he nodded.

“Good, I’ll be back before you know it.”

New Earth proved to be all the refugees could have wished for. Abundant wildlife, water, forests and sub-tropical to temperate weather made the place a veritable Eden. The site on the shores of a large freshwater lake chosen for their prime settlement delivered everything the files promised. Over the next twelve days, Sandrea worked herself to the bone. She listened to the refugees’ stories and told her own as they set up their village. She arranged for those who wished for an Alliance translator implant to receive one from the doctor temporarily assigned to them, and stood support for any who preferred her company during an examination.

The Magran Senator, Hognan, continued to liaise with her for their requirements and she derived great satisfaction from tending to the needs of the rescued. They voted Rod spokesman for the group and she replied in cryptic to T’Hargen’s inability to understand why a cup made from cake would be useful. He and Kat let her down immensely when they disappeared off into the woods to investigate the viability of a nearby cave system, taking her spectator sport with them. She transferred her romantic observations to Rod who was doing his level best to the charm the dickens out of a lovely Gailling lady. Even Kendril seemed to be considering, with that detached way of hers, the advances of Dave whose broken leg had nearly mended.

She missed Eugen terribly.

Bit by bit, her group lost that hunted, despairing look. Conversations focused on the immediate future; the prospects of fishing the lake, extending farm lands.

She knew she could leave them now.

“No!”

Sandrea blinked at Eugen’s emphatic denial. Even through the closed door of the runabout she and Kendril had travelled to Mrilala in, the aggression in his tone came loud and clear.

Someone is going to get their head bitten off if they don’t back down.

The pilot’s voice over the comm advised all was secure, and she rose from the cushioned couch in a rush. Anticipation burned in her veins. Her fingers drummed on her thighs as the cabin door
slowly
opened. Eugen stood tall, strong, and achingly hers at the foot of the extended ramp.

She flew into his arms, wrapped herself around him, and hugged him tight. The fervour of his embrace delighted her hunger, and then he pushed a finger under her chin and tilted her face to his. A frown crowded his brow.

“What have you been doing?” he demanded.

She lifted her eyebrows. “I thought you’d be pleased to see me.”

“I am not pleased to see you close to exhaustion.”

She shrugged. “There was a lot to do.”

“I knew your time had been fully engaged, but this . . .” His green-eyed regard darkened. “There will be no more work for you until you are well.”

“Yes, General. Do I get a kiss?”

He leaned close and growled, “Not here, you don’t.”

The sensitive hairs on her ear and neck quivered to the warm brush of his breath and the dark temptation of his voice. She landed a quick peck on his cheek, then turned back toward the craft and whistled.

“Dexter!”

“I think he’s still on that rug,” Kendril said.

She shook her head and turned to Eugen.

“He’s fallen in love with a throw. I have to admit it
is
lovely and soft, but he squirms around on it like— Never mind.”

“I’ll get him,” Kendril volunteered, but Dexter appeared at the top of the ramp, head high, sniffing the air.

He let out a short bark, scuttled toward them, then ran up Eugen’s body and bunted him just below the jaw.

“Guess he missed you, too,” she said.

“So it would seem.” The smile threading Eugen’s agreement delighted her. “Thank you, Corporal, that will be all. Alpha is on R and R until further notice.”

“Thank you, General.” Kendril saluted then turned to her. “Ambassador.”

Sandrea pursed her lips in mild exasperation as she watched Kendril depart. “She knows I hate her addressing me that way, the wretch.”

“Protocol demands—”

“Yeah, yeah. I know, I know.”

Eugen braced an arm around her back and she settled into his side as they turned toward the exit. His warmth spread through her body, kindling embers of passion.

“We have quarters here on the base,” he informed her as they crossed the hanger floor. “And General Tomgani is hosting a celebratory dinner in your honour tomorrow evening.”

A rush of dread cooled her ardour. “Me? What did I do to deserve that?”

“Apart from saving our planet from the Council’s ill-advised orders and urging a strike into Bluthen space that not only procured the Alliance more territory, but also seriously hindered our enemy’s abominable experiments into human/machine biosync operations? Experiments that could have seen the Bluthen gain significant advantage against the Alliance?”

“Well, yeah, apart from that.”

Eugen shrugged. “Nothing.”

She laughed and squeezed him.

An unknown voice gatecrashed their private world. “On that note, General . . .” Beneath her arm, Eugen’s back tensed and she swore a snarl rumbled in his chest. He turned to a Legolopanth loitering just behind them. Vague memory placed him somewhere in the vicinity when she’d disembarked from the runabout.

“You already have my decision, Commander.” Eugen’s icy tone widened her eyes. “Do not tempt my patience again.”

The officer swallowed, nodded once, and took a step back. Hell, she admired him for not running screaming in the opposite direction.

“What was that about?”

Eugen slid his hand to her lower back and steered her into a turbo-tunnel lobby. He selected a destination on the map and offered a vague-ish sort of smile. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

Concern zapped along her nerves. “Eugen? You’re not about to be shipped out, are you?”

In the privacy of the vestibule, he drew her close. “No, my love.”

“Then what was that about?”

His chin lifted as he pulled in a breath and still he prevaricated.

“You want me to go and ask him?” She nodded back toward the hangar.

The doors opened to a car and he ushered her in.

“The research department wants your help with the biosync. According to their findings only humans are compatible.”

Christ, is that all?

“Of course.”

“No,” he ground out. “You are not well. I was not willing to share you before I discovered how overwork has drained you. Now . . . I will not permit it.”

Aw, you’re so cute.

“I didn’t mean now, Eugen, I’ve got plans for now. Plans that involve you, me, complete privacy, and a complete lack of clothing.”

“Ah, this, I am willing to discuss.”

She tapped a finger on his nose and swayed her body into his with languid provocation. “There’s not going to be much talk, Eugen. Bit of moaning, I suspect, if all goes to plan, but not much talk. Besides, the biosync operation is on my list of things to speak to you about. Rod’s keen to offer his services, and Dave’s, and you know you can count on me.”

“Yes, Sandrea, I
do
know I can count on you.”

“Good. I’m curious about one thing, though. How come the Bluthen didn’t have that laboratory armed and guarded to the teeth?”

“Warships patrolling a sector would have drawn Alliance interest. It was a risky strategy of the Bluthen to avoid detection and one that very nearly succeeded.”

“I think T’Hargen was getting close to discovering them.” She shuddered. “I’m glad he didn’t. I like your brother.”

“He likes you, too.”

The barbaric implications of the lab troubled her and she sought his insight. “They were going to use humans as disposable soldiers, weren’t they?”

Eugen’s hand tightened on her hip. “Yes.”

Grim satisfaction welled within her. “Well, they screwed the pooch with that idea.”

A rough gurgle emanated from Eugen. “I am beginning to understand Sergeant Kulluk’s fascination with your Earthen profanities.”

She lifted a hand to his chest, delighting in the firm, heated swell of dense muscle.

“I have twelve days of not telling you how much I love you to catch up on,” she murmured.

Eugen pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers. The tender beauty of his kiss stole her breath and she nestled closer, sealing her body to his and glorying in the richness of their love.

“Come, my heart,” he urged.

She opened her eyes. “Hmm?”

“We have arrived at our lodgings.”

“Oh.”

She followed him from the car, down a short corridor, and into a suite of rooms.

“Dexter”—she plucked him from Eugen’s shoulder and placed him on the floor—“make yourself comfortable somewhere other than the bed.”

He gave her a reproachful look. “Yes, yes. I promise to get you a rug like the one in the runabout. Now shoo.”

She turned to Eugen, her eager hands attacking his clothing.

“If you want this to happen in a bed, I suggest you show the way
now.
”

Her spirit soared as she managed to part the opening of his shirt and caress the now supple skin of his chest. Sparks of pleasure danced across her fingers and palms, while bright emotion swelled in her breast.

Eugen drew a ragged breath and captured her hands in his, stilling their advance down his body and bringing them to his lips. His intense, green gaze held her enchanted as he backed her through a doorway. Her calves bumped into something solid.

“Kiss me,” she demanded.

He lowered her hands and pressed them to the small of her back. His fingers roped her wrists to one large hand and held them captive. He tilted his head to her upturned face and brushed his lips over her forehead, then down her cheek.

Impatience twisted through her at his leisurely torment. “Eugen, I want you inside me.”

A shudder rippled through his big body. He lifted a hand and traced the path of her jaw with a knuckle.

“I want that, too, my love, but not at the expense of your health.”

What?

He bent and drew back the covers of the bed.

“In you get,” he ordered.

Confusion rippled her brow. “You’re not going to undress me?”

He released her and took a step back. “It will be my pleasure to allot that task to you.”

A strip tease? I can do that. It will be the quickest in history though.

She ripped off her clothing with inelegant haste. Eugen’s rapid breathing spurred excitement through her blood and she lifted her arms towards him in invitation. Aching need for his touch flooded her breasts. He remained where he was, seemingly frozen to the spot. His hot gaze roved her body, pinpricks of pleasure skittering over her skin and striking a throbbing chord deep within her pelvis.

“Eugen, why are you still dressed?”

She yearned to trace the golden swell of his cranial ridges, to hear the moan her caress would bring forth.

“Get into bed, my dearest.”

Something in his strangled voice, his reticent body language . . . An unpleasant suspicion filled her mind. She clamped her hands on her hips.

“You’re not going to make love to me?”

“I am making love you, dear heart. I am caring for you. You’ve exhausted yourself with these new responsibilities. Those dark smudges beneath your eyes tell me so.”

I see.

“Well, what about good old-fashioned sex then. Can we have that?”

“Of course, when we reach our home in the mountains and you are rested.”

“And when will that be?”

“We will leave immediately after the celebratory dinner.”

Wry defeat pressed her lips together. “You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?”

“I will stand firm in my position, yes.”

She took a step towards him, ran a hand up the clenched hardness of his thigh, and teased her fingers over the rigid length of his trouser-crowding erection. A half-hiss, half-moan whispered between his teeth.

“If I could get you out of this clothing, I think you would be standing extremely firm.”