The Ninth Orb (25 page)

Instead, she ignored him, lifted her head for identification and entered the zone. When Carter met her on the other side, she told the lieutenant that there was to be a meeting in her office mid-morning regarding the Plymouth project and then proceeded to her office without a backward glance.

When she reached her office, she asked her assistant to bring her coffee and settled at her desk, removing the translator, switching it off, and tossing it aside. As casually as she discarded the translator, she saw a frown of consternation flicker across Baen’s features as he followed her movements.

Pretending she hadn’t noticed, she focused on the stack of reports that inevitably filled her virtual desk. The food processing center, she saw with some satisfaction, had reached almost 50 % in production. They were doing better than she’d thought possible considering the first New Georgia crops had only just begun to reach maturity. They’d been fortunate in the timing of their arrival, however. The planet itself had yielded up far more nutritious, harvestable vegetation and proteins than they’d expected.

It was disheartening that it appeared that they would have to give up a world that held so much promise, but she was beginning to realize that their first ‘gut’ reaction to the discovery of aliens had been right. The Xtanians presented the greatest threat to the success of the colony.

Beyond the food processing center, the foundry and synthetic development plant, none of the other production centers even had a projected date for when they might be able to begin producing, but she didn’t find that particularly disturbing under the circumstances. They would be far better off at this point, she thought, to focus on producing the raw materials they would need for goods.

She was contemplating whether or not it would be advisable to have the manufacturing bots and machines crated for relocation when Sarah Carter arrived for her meeting.

Sarah’s gaze immediately flickered to the translator. When she met Eden’s gaze, Eden saw relief in her eyes. She smiled faintly. “I’m hurt. I thought you knew me better than that,” she murmured cryptically.

“There are a lot of diversions here, ma’am. It just occurred to me that those diversions might be a little … distracting.”

Eden grimaced. “Not so much you’d notice,” she said dryly.

Sarah looked intrigued but she didn’t voice the questions Eden could see had risen to her mind.

“Any luck with the probe?” she asked, waving Sarah toward a seat and getting down to business.

“The next planet out is somewhat less desirable than this one, but we already knew that. I ordered a survey anyway before I sent it further, but it hasn’t picked up any real possibilities. Houston’s suggestion was that we limit contact with the aliens,” she said, grimacing.

“That’s such helpful advice … and so timely!” Eden retorted tartly, drumming her fingers on her desk top. “They can’t help us out here. They can’t even advise us.”

Sarah shrugged. “They did make an assessment on the Plymouth. According their calculations, we should have just enough supplies and fuel to back track to the star system selected for the Aurora.”

Eden leaned forward in her seat. “Have we heard from them?”

Sarah hesitated. “Nothing good,” she said finally. “The last communication anybody had from them was right after they landed and that was two years ago.”

Chapter Nineteen

Eden had become so adept at ignoring Baen’s existence that it startled her when his hand settled over hers just as she reached to pull her translator off and toss it aside.

“Why do you always remove this?”

He was behind her. The heat of his breath as it caressed her neck and cheek sent a shiver of awareness through her.

She didn’t turn to look at him. “Because I don’t need it here,” she responded, keeping her voice even with an effort.

He said nothing for several moments and Eden had just decided that he wouldn’t when he surprised her again. “You find it … difficult to accept our ways.”

She found it impossible, but she didn’t tell him so. She had a pazaan of three broods, more than a dozen men and yet no lovers. She’d had herself well in hand when they went through the impregnation ritual the following night, and she’d managed to refrain from interfering, but she had not liked it and she had liked it less each time thereafter.

Her efforts to simply grow calloused to the situation hadn’t been met with much more success. She could ignore the proceedings to a point, but the plain truth was they aroused her. They just didn’t fulfill her and she was learning that that was far worse than being repulsed. Sometimes she came in spite of the fact that so little was done to please her. Sometimes she didn’t, but even when she found release it only seemed to make things worse, make her hunger for more.

They might need nothing more, but she needed to be touched, to be caressed. She ached for it, and yet she didn’t dare even attempt to initiate such a thing. Lovemaking was as completely alien to them as pure clinical coupling was to her. She thought she could’ve borne barbaric rutting better than the cold, almost mechanical detachment she got.

Her scientific mind told her that there was logic behind it, reason behind the rigid discipline of their society. They had many, many more males than females. The order they required enabled them to share without trying to wipe each other out. The cold detachment of their coupling prevented them from loosing the control needed to keep order.

Her woman’s side hated it, though, despised it more the longer she had to endure the feeling of being imprisoned, helpless.

She wasn’t even certain anymore that the decision to leave was completely reasonable because her emotions were in total chaos.

Against all reason and logic, she’d grown emotionally attached to far too many of them.

Or maybe it wasn’t against reason or logic. She’d been attracted to Baen from the first, vulnerable to the least encouragement to grow attached to him and he’d given her more than enough to build on. His brood brothers reminded her of him--but beyond that they were attractive in their own right. They were attentive, careful of her needs, anticipating before she even asked, eager to please in every way that they knew how to please.

She was not nearly as attached to the other broods that made up her pazaan, but she wasn’t completely immune to them either.

What woman could be when they were such beautiful specimens? So determined to take care of her in all ways?

“There is no happiness in your eyes,” Baen said, breaking into her thoughts. “Something else has taken its place. Hurt?”

Eden shifted away from him and turned to look up at him. “You’re wrong.”

Anger and frustration filled his eyes. “I am not.”

Eden’s lips tightened. “It doesn’t matter,” she said finally, turning and moving toward her desk.

He caught up to her as she reached it, caught her arm to stop her. “Why does it not matter?” he asked sharply.

She sent him a startled glance, wondering if he’d begun to suspect their plans to leave. “You wouldn’t understand if I tried to explain it. We’re too different. We don’t want the same things.”

“How have we failed you?”

Eden stared at him, feeling her defenses crumbling fast, feeling the desire rising inside of her to fever pitch to ignore the need to guard her tongue. She wanted to lash out at him. She wanted to forget diplomacy altogether and just say what she thought, tell him how she felt. “We?” she muttered before she could stop herself and then bit her lip before more angry reproach spilled out. She looked away from him, dragged in a shuddering breath. “The pazaan, you mean? I’m sure they’re doing everything just as they’ve been trained.”

He caught her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Then I. Tell me how I have failed you. Tell me what you want. I will get it for you, give it to you.”

A hard knot formed in Eden’s throat. “You can’t. You don’t know how.”

His gaze flickered over her face. “Teach me.”

Eden closed her eyes, struggling against the temptation. “It’s forbidden in your culture, on your world.”

“You are my world. Nothing else matters. Nothing will matter if you chose to leave me,” he said harshly.

Her eyes flew open at that, a mixture of alarm and desire warring with each other. The fear that he knew of their plans sent a chilling wave of anxiety through her. The promise of his vow and the look in his eyes countered with heat, confusing her, throwing her thoughts and desires into chaos.

She didn’t know whether it would be best to try to deny his suspicions or ignore them, but as he shifted closer, bent his head toward hers until little more than a hair’s breadth separated his lips from hers, the offer when she’d hungered so long and been left wanting instantly became something impossible to resist. Desire flooded her. Every other consideration fled from her mind, consumed by the fire that rolled through her in a scorching tide, snatching the breath from her lungs, sending her heart into a mad race that made the blood pulse frantically throughout her body.

She lifted to meet him without any pretense of coyness or patience, slipping her arms around his neck and plastering her body tightly against his as she nipped hungrily at his lips, explored them with the tip of her tongue and finally delved inside his mouth. The haze of desire deepened as she tasted him on her tongue, inhaled his breath into her lungs.

A shudder went through him as she stroked her tongue along his. Abruptly, he wrapped his arms around her, tightening them as he mimicked her in the mating dance and explored her mouth as she had his. The heat between them intensified into palpable waves as their tongues glided sinuously along one another in a deeply intimate caress like no other.

Drugged by the pleasure surging through them they ignored the need for anything beyond the taste and feel of each other until darkness began to crowd close and they were forced to part to suck desperately needed air into their lungs. For several moments, neither of them could manage more than that. Gasping hard as if they’d run for miles, shaking with the hunger for more, they hovered close, their chests brushing with each heaving breath, their lips and noses grazing with the faintest of movement.

Dragging in a harsh, shuddering breath, Baen closed the slight distance between them again, sucking at her lips before he covered them, thrusting his tongue into her mouth with more surety.

Eden stroked her tongue caressingly along his for several moments and then closed her mouth around his flesh, sucking on his tongue until faint tremors began to course through him.

When he broke the kiss again, he was gasping her name hoarsely. “Edie, Edie,” he gasped out, rubbing his cheek along hers, as if he couldn’t bear to break contact completely, needed to fill his senses with the touch of her flesh against his, the scent of her skin. “I have longed for this,” he murmured, supping at her lips again in brief, teasing kisses that made her lips tingle and her mouth go dry with want.

She matched her lips to his again, running her tongue along the exquisitely sensitive inner surface of his lips before entwining her tongue with his again.

Filled abruptly with the need for more contact, she stroked one hand along his silky hair, searching with her other hand for the opening she remembered along his shoulders that would free him of his uniform. Finding it at last, she broke from his lips, nipped at his chin, and then his throat as she opened the fabric along the back.

Finding his height impeded the exploration she wanted, she dragged her arms from around his neck, slipped her hands into the opening she’d made and stroked her hands along his muscular back to his shoulder blades. To her surprise, she discovered the skin that stretched over his wings was as silky and smooth to the touch as the rest of his skin.

Disentangling the fabric from him, she returned her attention to the front fastening of his suit, pulling it open and exploring the exposed flesh with her lips, nipping at him, sucking small love bites of flesh into her mouth.

She’d forgotten how beautiful his body was to her, but then she hadn’t had the chance before to explore it and discover for herself if it felt as wonderful as it looked.

It did. His muscles were taut, hard, rippling beneath the silk, bronzed sheathing delightfully.

He stilled, his tight hold on her loosening as she pushed her hands beneath his clothing, peeling it from him as she examined him with infinite care and absolute fascination, inch by inch, with her hands, her lips, and her tongue.

The idea teased her to step back and examine him her eyes when she’d pushed the suit from his arms and down his body to his hips, but she’d admired him from afar long enough. She wanted to appreciate him up close, and show him the things that pleased her.

Skimming her hands down his chest, she cupped a male breast in either hand, massaging the taut flesh, teasing the tiny nipples with the light rake of her nails until the buds stood erect. Winding her way downward, she flicked her tongue over one, sucked it. He sucked in a shaky breath, his hands closing over her shoulders, kneading them.

His reaction sent a fresh wave of desire through her and after a moment she moved to the mate, teasing it as she had the first and slipping one hand down his belly until she could cup his sex. He stiffened at her touch, began to shake as she slowly stroked the length of his turgid flesh from root to tip.

She sank lower, tracing a path of kisses down the center of his stomach and finally kneeling on the floor and peeling his suit from his hips. His cock, freed from restraint, sprang forward. Painfully swollen with his need, it was as huge and hard as the rest of him, and as beautifully formed, flawless. Her mouth went dry with desire, her belly clenching as she curled her fingers around him. His hand tangled in her hair as she ran her tongue over the head, sucked it into her mouth experimentally and then stroked her hand downward to caress the soft testicles at the base.

He jerked as if she’d punched him in the belly as her mouth closed over his flesh, his fingers clenching in her hair. Releasing a breathless grunt as she sucked the head of his cock and stroked him with her hands, he went perfectly still, breathless, tense, grew so taut that after a moment he began to tremble with the effort to hold himself still. His breathing grew harsh, ragged.