The Key (18 page)

Finally she got it. She did a hand stand, just like before, like she was trying to catch him on the chin with her feet, but he sent her sailing through the air—again, like before, only a little higher this time, thank you very much. She did the mid-air somersault, but when her feet hit the mat, instead of a spring forward, she put her hands on the mat, whipping forward, but with her body bent, her legs well below his hands, like a side ways windmill.

Her feet came together just right and hit him hard in the mid-section. Even a tree—or a
Chewie
—goes down with the right hit to the right spot.

The plan was to sail on past him.

Fyn had other plans.

As he went back his arms locked around her, bringing her down with him. They both hit the mat hard. Should have knocked what wind he had left out of him, but he used her own momentum to turn her, so they were eye to eye when he reversed their positions and pinned her to the mat.

She was down for good.

But so was he.

“Nice move,” he told her.

She was panting a bit. “Thank you. You had some new stuff, too.”

Carey leaned over them both. “I thought you had him, Donovan.”

“I’m optimistic that I’ll…get him in time, sir.” There was getting and then there was getting. And sometimes losing was…winning.

Fyn grinned, like he knew what she was thinking.

“Where did you learn those moves?”

“High school gymnastics,” Briggs said for her.

“And the girls’ bathroom,” Sara added.

“Really?” Carey looked surprised. “Tough room.”

Sara shrugged. “You have no idea.”

She felt Fyn chuckle and grinned at him.

Carey straightened. “I think some people owe you and Briggs some money.”

“You’re one of them,” Sara pointed out.

Fyn rolled off her and up in a smooth movement, then held out a hand to Sara, pulling her to her feet as easily as if she were a feather.

Halliwell was grinning, despite the lost bet. “Bravo Zulu, Donovan, you, too, Fyn.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Fyn just nodded.

“Impressive.” Xever looked thoughtful and a bit amused. “You are, of course, at a disadvantage against a larger opponent.”

“I’m only at a disadvantage against Fyn.” Sara thought for a moment. “And Briggs. And that’s only because I can’t kill them. In a fight to death, all bets are off.”

She gave him her steely-eyed killer look. His eyes widened a bit.

“You spar with Briggs?” Halliwell’s brows shot up. “I think I’d like to see that.”

Sara looked at Briggs, her eyes loosing killer for panic. He looked at her. His eyes narrowed. Briggs looked at his watch.

“I’m late.”

Sara tried not to smile as he jetted out the door, well, the Briggs version of a jet. The colonel turned his attention to her. She swallowed nervously.

“I probably should go, too, sir. I haven’t had breakfast yet and I’m on duty…soon. I never eat before I spar…because it makes me power puke—”
Way too much sharing
. She flushed. “Sorry, sir.”

The Old Man managed not to smile, but before he could say anything, Xever spoke.

“I was wondering if I might have a word with you, Captain.”

A pool of silence formed, flowing out from him to everyone in the room.

Xever looked around, like a veranda might pop up out of the deck. Good thing it didn’t. She’d left her parasol back on earth. Not to mention her freaking hoop skirt.

“Alone,” he added.

Sara felt her eyes get so wide, they dried out. She made herself blink. It didn’t help much.

A host of gazes turned his direction, most of them not happy.

“Of course, sir,” Kilburn said. “That’s fine, isn’t it, Colonel?”

“That’s up to the Captain.” The Old Man’s voice had a bite to it.

The Captain wanted her breakfast.

She looked at Xever. He had a way of looking pleasant and kind of innocuous, but Sara sensed a strong will, perhaps even ruthlessness lurking under the surface. She really didn’t want to be alone with him, but she couldn’t think of a good reason to say no. After a long, awkward pause, she looked at her watch.

“I don’t have much time before I go on duty.”

It wasn’t a yes, but Xever acted like it was. He must have heard the reluctance in her voice, but he still smiled at her with way too much enthusiasm.

Not that he said anything. He just watched her quietly as the room cleared. She clasped her hands behind her back, and with her feet planted, gave him a coolly inquiring look.

“Yes, sir?”

He smiled at her. “Call me Adin.”

That sounded like an order.

“No.” Kind of abrupt, so she added, “You’re a head of state. It would be inappropriate and disrespectful.”

“Even when we are alone?”

“Especially when we’re alone.”

A hint of frustration appeared in his calm eyes.

“May I call you Sara?”

“You’re a Supreme Leader, you can call me anything you want.” If he didn’t let her eat soon, he’d be calling her bitch. If he knew what that was.

His gaze was calm…but Sara could feel something bubbling just below the surface. It reached out to her, as if he could will her into feeling it, too. As if he could use his…personal power…to bend her will to his. But where did he want to…bend it?

“Sara.” His tone made it a caress. “Will you dine with me this evening?”

Okay. Wasn’t expecting ET to want a date. “
What
?”

“I would like to introduce you to our food, our ways. Get to know you…better.”

“No.” She didn’t even pretend to think about it. “Thank you.”

A short pause.

“May I ask why?”

Sara picked one reason. “I’m on duty.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“Booming. And then on duty again.” She decided it was time to go on the offensive. “But even if I were free, I couldn’t…dine with you. No way the colonel’d let me jet over to your ship for a gut bomb. Add to that, you’re a head of state and I’m not. I don’t know why you’d want to…dine with me.”

She produced a puzzled look. She’d used it a lot with her past principals when they were being unreasonable.

He was quiet a moment. “If you could think of me as a man—”

“Nope. Can’t get past the whole Supreme Leader thing.” She blinked a couple of times. “Maybe it’s the Supreme part? It’s so…well, supreme.”

His lips twitched. “What would you suggest?”

Sara picked the least offensive suggestion she could think of. “Now that you’ve been Supreme, be a step down to just be a plain, old leader.” She looked at him steadily now. “You probably need to find a chick that’s equally
supreme
to dine with, someone used to running in supreme circles.”

He stepped closer to her, not all the way in her personal space, but definitely violating her perimeter.

“But I…want
you
.” His eyes didn’t change, but there was a timbre to his voice that she would have had to be a rock not to feel…something. “I find you…supremely…lovely.”

Right.
And he had also had a bridge on some desert planet to sell her. Just how stupid did he think she was? This was
so
about her likeness to Miri and so
not
about her mythical beauty. For a long, tense moment she stared at him.

“I have to go.”

She started to step back and he grabbed her arm.

“Sara—” He stepped close enough for her to feel the heat from his body and now she could feel the leashed power that had gotten him to supreme leader. He hesitated, as if not sure what to say next.

Sara already knew what to say. “Let me go.”

“Please,” his head tilted to the side and his slight smile was almost shy, “call me by my name. Just once. That is not so hard, is it?”

His grip on her wrist softened as one finger stroked the inside of her wrist. But it was the appeal in his voice that spoke to her, spoke to the part of her that understood feeling shut out. Maybe being a leader was as isolating as being a freak.

He edged slightly closer. “Adin,” he prompted her again, as if he sensed her uncertainty.

“
Adin
.” As soon as it left her mouth, she knew it was a mistake. She could feel the…heightened connection it made between them.

He smiled, the kind of smile a man gave a woman he thought was going to be his lover.

“That was not so hard, now was it?” His voice was as caressing as his gaze. His fingers grazed her cheek and she shivered at the contact, half repulsed, half…not. His hand settled at her waist and he halved the space that separated them.

Her gaze narrowed. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

She could feel him looking at her mouth and had to force herself not to lick her lips.

“Are you married?” She didn’t know where the question came from, but it felt right to ask it. And it helped clear her head and cool the heat Adin was trying to start inside her.

“I don’t understand.” A wary light mixed in with all the other emotions in his eyes.

“Do you have a woman you’ve had mini Supreme Leaders with? Someone that shares your supreme leader digs? That you committed to in some legal ceremony?”

He hesitated. “I have a bond mate.”

“That would be married in my culture. And the women on your ship? One of them yours, too?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

“You don’t seem to have a vacancy—unless you’re just looking for a one night stand with an alien.” She stepped back.

“It’s complicated—” he began, his voice still soft, but also a bit condescending.

“Well, let me uncomplicate it for you,
sir
.
No
. To the dinner.
Hell no
to the one night stand.”

She could see in his eyes that he didn’t like that.

“What, your women don’t get to turn you down? Well I’m afraid you’re standing on a piece of the United States of America, where women can say no and men just have to suck it up.”

“Sara—”

“Captain Donovan,
sir.
” She took a deep breath. “I have to go before I do something that I
won’t
regret.”

His eyes flashed and he didn’t look quite so much in control. He also looked like he’d like to…grapple with her.

“I…would not be as…easy as Colec.”

His voice and eyes held a warning and a caress, as if she amused him. But below amusement, she could feel his eagerness for physical contact.

“Nothing in my life has ever been
easy
, but I’m still here.”

He smiled slowly, confidently. “This is not finished. I do not…lose what I want.”

His desire tried to make a bridge between them again. Before it could establish a beachhead, Sara stamped it out.

“You can’t
lose
something that doesn’t belong to you.”

She turned and walked away from him, his gaze burning into her back every step of the way. She hit the panel and it slid back. Kilburn and Colonel Halliwell were both waiting outside.

“Sir.” Sara stopped and came to attention. She didn’t look at Kilburn, but she knew he moved past her, on a heading for Xever. Or his butt. He’d been kissing it since ET came aboard.

“You all right, Donovan?”

“Bravo Zulu, sir.” Sara knew she sounded wooden. She hesitated. “I’m going to be late—”

“I’m grounding you for a few days.”

It was a blow she didn’t see coming—a low blow after what just happened.

“May I ask why?” Now her voice sounded like cold, dead stone.

He looked past her, then jerked his head. “Let’s walk.”

When they’d put a couple of turns between them and the exercise room, the Old Man said, “It’s not permanent. Colonel Carey and I both agree that Xever’s a bit too interested in you. He’s used to getting what he wants. We still don’t know about the capabilities of his ship and think you should stick close to mother. Until I feel better about this, or the
Patton
arrives to reinforce us, you’re grounded.”

Sara felt the hard, cold knot in her stomach ease. They had her back. It was a good feeling—even if it totally sucked to be grounded.

He stopped and looked at her.

“Don’t underestimate him, Captain.”

“I won’t, sir.” She sighed. “Thank you.”

She watched him stride away, and then headed to her quarters. Shower first, then the long delayed breakfast. Hopefully food would remove the hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. No sign of Fyn. He was probably standing her alert with the rest of her squadron.

She should have kicked Adin Xever’s ass while she had the chance. Even as the thought formed, Sara knew it wasn’t a lack of will, but an unwillingness to touch him or be touched by him. There was…something there, in the brief contacts they’d had so far. It wasn’t nice, and it was nothing like what she felt when Fyn touched her.

Whatever she felt around him, it wasn’t indifference. That would have been easy. Emotion, any strong emotion made an opening for the dark desire he wanted to ignite in her. It was a dangerous undertow that led not to love, but to…captivity. All he had to offer was a life lived out of the sun. She didn’t know how she knew that, but she did.

Evie had warned her about men like him, told her that women who’d grown up like she did, often mistook his kind of passion for affection, sought closeness, and ended up with more emptiness.

It wasn’t like that with Fyn. He expanded her world, broadened her horizon. What troubled her, it seemed that what she felt for Fyn made her more vulnerable to the physical pull, not less. Her body didn’t seem to differentiate between good and bad, it just
felt
. Adin could never touch her heart, but he didn’t seem to want to. If he could get a physical response from her, it would be enough. For her, it would be like drinking water that never quenched her thirst, a descent into hell.

The battle had to be fought in her head and she knew she could fight and win—but she still didn’t want to touch him.

She sat down in front of her laptop, turning it on without touching it. Had it been like this for Miri? Had she been caught between two impossible choices? Helen of Troy, if she existed at all, had her Spartan husband. She might have loved him or her Trojan lover. But what if she hadn’t loved either? Death was her only way out, but Miri seemed to have had…options.