Morgan's Return (17 page)

Davaskar drained his glass, and pushed himself out of his chair. "All right. But let's go inside and look at a bit more scenery, shall we?" He grinned, showing his teeth. "I do declare I've developed an appetite."

Why not, thought Ravindra? With Morgan as his companion on this trip, sex wasn't something he needed to worry about, but he could understand Davaskar's situation. He followed his cousin inside. Morgan wouldn't be back for hours. He might as well waste some time in a bar while Davaskar found himself a woman to ease his itch.

Ravindra stopped beside Davaskar, who had paused in the doorway. Dance music pulsed in the room, the colored lights matching the rhythm. Glasses glittered, laughter bubbled above the hubbub of a happy crowd, most gathered around scattered tables. A few couples gyrated to the beat on the small dance floor.

Davaskar leaned toward him. "Let's just perch on a bar stool and have a look at the menu."

Grinning, Ravindra snagged a stool at the bar and ordered drinks for both of them, beer for his cousin and a shot of Dromagh for himself, with a splash of water. He handed over the beer and raised his glass. "Happy hunting, cousin."

"Remember that party we saw when we booked in? The good-looking blonde?"

"Oh, yes. Marina Seabright." She with the legs up to here and the big breasts and the come-hither eyes. She'd nearly eaten him alive just looking at him. And, yes, under different circumstances he might well have had a taste. But only a taste. In his experience women like that had only one topic of conversation; themselves.

"That's the one. Well, she's just over there with a few others."

Ravindra nearly choked on his drink. "Good luck. Just make sure you're not devoured."

Davaskar shook his head. "Not her, one of the girls with her. She's giving me the eye. The one with the russet hair. She was the one in the swimming pool." He chuckled. "I've taken quite a fancy to the blonde ones, but I'll take what's on offer."

The girl in question smiled at them, a come-hither smile on full, red lips. Then she exchanged a few words with Marina Seabright, who stared at them for a long moment, then nodded.

"Looks like you're set, my friend," Ravindra said, laughing. "Here she comes."

The russet-haired girl had eased herself out of the curved bench seat and undulated toward them, her green dress hugging her body. She stopped in front of them and smiled, her gaze roving over Davaskar. "Hello."

Ravindra smothered his smile by sipping his drink.

"Hello, Lady," Davaskar said. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Her perfect eyebrows puckered, then the frown cleared. "You're from off-planet, aren't you? Miss Seabright asked me to invite you to join us," she said, glancing between them.

Davaskar eased himself off the stool. "A pleasure."

The girl beamed, then the smile faded as she fixed her gaze on Ravindra, who remained seated, one elbow on the bar. "Both of you."

Before Ravindra could say anything, Davaskar said in Manesai, "Come on, cousin. Help me out here. The boss lady wants you, which makes it easier for me. You can always stand her up later."

Ravindra hesitated. Could he be bothered with this full-of-herself female? It wasn't going to lead anywhere.

Davaskar took his arm. "Come on, Admiral. Surely you're not worried about what your girlfriend will think?"

Ravindra skewered the captain with a look. To hell with what Morgan might think. He was just doing his cousin a favor. He stood, waved a hand. "Lead on, Miss."

Smiling with delight, the girl led them to Seabright's table, weaving between the other patrons. Seabright welcomed Ravindra with a wide, brilliant smile, patting the seat beside her. The blue dress she wore might as well have been painted on. "Good evening, Admiral Ravindra. It's lovely to finally meet you. Do sit down."

A frisson of irritation traveled up his spine. She'd found out about his military rank too easily. Bought information from the staff, he'd imagine. "I'm retired. This is my farewell tour, if you will, seeing the Galactic sights. And of course, one of them would be you."

She simpered, expecting the compliment.

"I've been told you're an actor?" he added. That should get her talking. He hoped his cousin, now comfortably ensconced with the subject of his affections kneading his thigh, appreciated his sacrifice.

Seabright tittered. "Oh, I've made a few vids. Have you seen any of them?"

"No, lady. I'm from a planet outside your Coalition. What roles have you played?"

Out of the corner of his eye Ravindra noticed Davaskar following the russet-haired girl onto the dance floor. If you could call it dancing. The couples simply wrapped their arms around each other and gyrated. Almost sexual intercourse standing up. Trying something like that at home would get a man arrested.

Seabright was talking and she did have a lovely, lilting, musical voice.

***

T
he skimmer coasted to a halt. Partridge still looked white as a ghost, his fingers clenching the edge of the seat.

"It's okay, Derryn. You can let go now," Morgan said.

His fingers relaxed. "I was sure we were dead when that young idiot swerved in front of us. The auto-pilot systems on these skimmers is unbelievable."

"It is, isn't it?" Certainly with a Supertech along to help, had Partridge but known it. Morgan didn't usually have to contend with teenage fools playing Who Blinks First in the sky. The clown was lucky his machine hadn't crashed. She slipped out of the passenger seat and onto the ground. Time to go and find Ravindra. He hadn't answered his
sanvad
when she'd called, but he'd be wanting to know what they found.

Partridge ran to catch up with her as she strode toward the hotel, clutching at her arm. "Have a drink with me? I just want to, you know, talk things through, organize my thoughts better than they are. I'm a bit flustered."

She slowed down. He still looked stressed, a bit wild-eyed. Probably a good idea to get him settled before they talked to Ravindra. "Sure."

"Great. The back bar's the place to go."

He led her through the hotel foyer and a pair of double doors. Lively dance music played, but not too loudly. The place was fairly crowded but most of the people sat around tables and the bar, while a few couples gyrated on the dance floor. His hand resting lightly on her arm, Partridge drew her over to the other corner where the music didn't intrude and the lights didn't flash.

"What'll you have?" Partridge asked, fingers poised above the ordering tablet.

"White wine," Morgan said.

Partridge ordered a double reefer.

This was what she would have called a pick-up bar. Pheromones positively reverberated around the room, girls looking for guys, guys looking for girls. She'd been in enough of those in her day. A great place to find hot-shot pilots wanting a good time without commitment. She saw a familiar figure weaving between the tables. Davaskar. If he was after a companion for the night, he'd picked the right place. He sat down next to a red-headed girl near a flashy blonde.

"You said you were a fan of Marina Seabright?" she said.

Partridge beamed. "Oh, yes. She's a marvelous character actor. Brent and I saw her in
A Blazing Sun
just the other evening."

"That's Seabright over there." Morgan pointed.

Partridge nearly bounced out of his seat. "Where? Oh, yes, you couldn't miss that head of blonde hair."

No, you couldn't. At the moment the actor's arm was draped on the shoulder of the man beside her, her fingers walking past his neck. He turned his head away and she giggled. Morgan's heart froze. Ravindra. The woman had tried to play with his
coti
. He was sitting there with her. Fury surged in her gut. No wonder he hadn't answered his
sanvad
. "Fuck."

The waiter paused, eyes wide, in the act of setting down the drinks. "Ma'am?"

She pushed at the air with her palms. "No, not you. Sorry. Partridge, give him a tip."

"What?" Partridge said when the lad had gone.

The anger ebbed but didn't go away, like water behind a blockage. She swallowed. Fuck it, she'd only been away for a few hours. She had a good mind to wade in there and tell them both what she thought.

"Isn't that…?" Partridge snapped his head around to look at her. "Ravindra?"

Morgan grabbed her glass and gulped down a mouthful of wine. "Yes."

His brow puckered, he regarded her. "Aren't you going to—"

"He's a big boy. He can do what he likes. Besides, there's probably a perfectly reasonable explanation." Her voice sounded harsh to her own ears. She drained the rest of the wine. If she didn't put the bloody glass down she'd crush it with her fingers. "Let's look at this picture, shall we?"

Partridge fiddled about with his page viewer, opening it out on the table with the shots of the ocean cliffs, the sea surging at their base. All that water and the wine. She wriggled.

"Look, I'll be back in a moment."

The ladies room was a fair walk, not far from the bar. Morgan hurried.

After she'd washed her hands, she glanced at herself in the mirror. She couldn't do much about the wind-blown hair. Or the rumpled shirt. It didn't really matter, though, because she was going to go over there and scratch Seafoam's lovely eyes out. Her fingers hooked into claws.

She cleared her throat, straightened her back, looked herself in the eye.
Don't be stupid.
They couldn't afford a scene. Besides, there was probably a perfectly reasonable explanation
. Would it be he didn't expect you back yet?
asked a snide voice in her head.
There are other women in Manesai space, when you're not around. Why should it be different here?

Because I'm here?
said the rational voice.
There's a perfectly reasonable explanation.
Of course there is. She could just stride over and have it out with him. Yes, but even that would make a scene. Best to just let the matter pan out. This was one time she wished he had an implant. She could just call him. Oh, well. He didn't have an implant. She gritted her teeth. When she got hold of him…

Oh, this is stupid. When did you start acting like an overwrought schoolgirl? Pull yourself together, woman.

Taking one more deep breath, she pushed the door release and went back into the party atmosphere of the bar, striding toward the table where Partridge was sitting, his eyes wide as he sipped his drink.

"Morgan Selwood."

The name was shouted so loud the noise in the bar lessened for a moment. Before she had time to turn, strong hands gripped Morgan's waist and swung her around in a circle. She knew that voice. The man set her down, then hugged her. "Good to see you, babe. Where've you been?"

Tall, dark blond hair. He beamed, lips spread in a huge smile. She had to bring the face up from her implant. Junior Commander Biel Fisher, hot-shot fighter pilot. They'd had a brief affair five years ago.

"Er, hi, Biel. It's been a while."

"Sure has. Last I heard you'd disappeared somewhere around Calisto's Veil. Hey, what've you done to your eyes? Contacts?"

"Um, yeah." She edged back, hoping he'd let go. Oh fuck fuck fuck. She was supposed to be Marion Sefton, not Morgan Selwood. And she'd made it obvious she'd recognized him.

"Marion? An old friend?"

Oh, double fuck. Ravindra's voice was deadly as a leashed vulsaur.

At least Biel let go, although he left a hand on her waist. She twisted away from him and gazed into Ravindra's furious face. "Yes. I haven't seen him in an age." She shot a glance at Biel. "This is Ashkar Ravindra, my… er, my current employer. This is Biel Fisher. A fighter pilot. We're old friends. From a long time ago."

Ravindra's voice dripped ice, his eyebrow arched. "Employer? A little more than that, surely."

Her gut roiled.

Biel's lip curled. "Oh, excuse me. Aren't you with La Seabright? She sure was all over you—for the past half hour or so. I thought she was going to make you shag her on the bench. Well, don't let us get in your way." He reached out for Morgan. "Come on, babe. We've got a lot of catching up to do."

Ravindra slapped Biel's arm away, his other hand balling into a fist.

Morgan put her spread palm on his chest. "Ashkar," she said in Manesai, "he's just an old boyfriend. I'll get rid of him. Please. We don't want a fuss."

"Do it quickly, then." He bit the words out.

Morgan turned back to Biel, took his arm and dragged him two steps away from where Ravindra, tense and angry, watched her every move.

"Look, I'm under cover, okay? My name here is Marion Sefton. That's why the contacts. Sorry, Biel, but I'm working. Another time maybe?"

"Yeah?" The red-faced anger receded a little, but he turned his head to glare at Ravindra. "So who's that asshole? Is he what you're under cover about?"

They so did not need this. Curious onlookers craned for a better view, heads bent together to whisper. And, oh, for fuck's sake, here came the delectable Seaforth to add to the mix.