“An interesting development.” Mara Prime nodded in greeting as he peremptorily pulled out a chair at the long table. “May we sit with you?”
There was no polite way to refuse, as Mara Prime had no doubt intended. He took a seat next to Grady, across from Gina, as his entourage ranged themselves around the table. Two young scientists flanked Gina and more sat across from her, next to Grady. She shot him a look that held both her amusement and consternation at these developments and she knew Grady understood when a ghost of a smile touched his lips, just briefly.
The rest of the meal was spent being questioned—none too subtly—by Mara Prime and his subordinates. The geneticist had been told that Ronin Prime required Breed servants to attend him wherever he went. Gina was one of Ronin Prime’s pets, as Mara Prime had been heard to call the human Zxerah adoptees, since the Patriarch allowed no interference with them whatsoever.
It wasn’t the most enjoyable half hour Gina had ever spent, but she did marvel at Grady’s ability to answer questions without saying much at all. He confounded the scientific team in such a polite and roundabout way, they couldn’t object. He had a way of drawing them off target and leading them directly where he wanted them conversationally. It was a talent she admired, a skill she had never mastered. Grady could have taught lessons on the old bait and switch. She had to give him credit.
While Grady was occupied with the scientists and their questions, Gina ate steadily. Finishing her breakfast, she was grateful to have an excuse to leave the crowded table and the probing, invasive conversation the scientists seemed to think was acceptable. In her book, it was downright rude. Then again, she wasn’t Alvian. Thank goodness.
Grady was sad to see Gina leave, but he knew it was for the best. Mara Prime was digging into areas Grady would rather not discuss in public—particularly not in front of a woman he thought might be his future mate. He’d rather she learn about his weaknesses and failures—as well as his strengths—naturally, over time.
He wanted desperately to spend time with her, learning her as she learned him. But duty called. His and hers. Both of them had jobs to do and superiors to satisfy before they would be free to pursue their personal lives, be it alone or together. Grady hoped like hell it would be together.
He’d never wanted a woman so badly. He’d never been so intrigued or inspired to such passion with her slightest touch, her weakest smile. She was like a drug to which he was fast becoming addicted, and he never wanted to stop.
Mara Prime dragged out breakfast as much as possible but eventually even the cagey old scientist had to let Grady Prime go about his duties for the day. Grady was glad to take up where he had left off with his investigation. He talked to more of the winged soldiers about their former leader and was learning things that would help his mission.
Or so he hoped. He needed to narrow down the parameters for locations he would search. Right now, the field was still wide open. Only through the observations of people who had known the former Prime would Grady be able to formulate an effective search plan for Sinclair Prime Past.
Grady admitted to himself, he was woefully distracted. How could he not, with the tantalizing prospect of a Resonance Mate in the offing? Gina was luscious and one of the few things that could make him forget his duty and have trouble concentrating on his mission. All he wanted to do was daydream about her and the tempting possibilities of what they could be together—if their stars were in alignment.
Lunch couldn’t come too soon to suit him. He arrived at the mess hall with eager steps only to find Gina there before him. She sat alone at a table in the corner. Even as he entered the room, he saw some of her Zxerah colleagues stop by the table to make conversation.
“Don’t sit down. Don’t sit down,” he chanted under his breath to no avail. A moment later with a quick, apologetic glance in his direction, Gina smiled at the two warriors as they pulled out chairs across from her. At least he could sit at her side, Grady consoled himself. He noticed she’d put a small backpack on the chair next to her, precluding anyone from sitting there when there were other chairs available around the long table. “Good girl,” Grady cheered her on under his breath.
If this went on much longer, people would start to think he habitually talked to himself. That wouldn’t reflect well on an experimental test subject. At the moment, however, he didn’t care. All that mattered was being with her, sitting next to her, hearing her voice and basking in her light.
They dined together, but had little opportunity to really talk. Not with so many attentive ears around the table. The warriors asked her about human fighting techniques and Grady listened, keenly aware that his possible mate was a fighting champion of some stature among humankind. The idea sat oddly with him at first, but as he listened to her speak knowledgably on a wide variety of topics, including strategies suitable for someone of her size against a larger opponent, he began to glow with pride.
His mate was a warrior. He never would have expected it in a million years, but he was glad of it. She was no weak city-bred female of one of the clerical lines. The only woman to date that he’d been tempted to subject to the resonance tests had been a Jaci—a lab tech with no athletic skills that he knew of. After meeting Gina, he couldn’t imagine the regret he’d felt when Jaci had mated two human males.
Oh, he liked Jaci and wished her well, but he didn’t regret that she wasn’t his mate any longer. Not with Gina near. In fact, all others paled in comparison to the human warrior woman at his side.
Grady was able to sit back and enjoy lunch, knowing that of all the males present, only he could truly appreciate her complexities. Only a short while ago he wouldn’t have understood her at all. Since his new emotions had stabilized somewhat, he knew he had something to offer her that other Alvian males could not. Just the idea of it made him feel smug—a new emotion to add to his ever expanding catalog of new experiences.
They parted after lunch with a quick promise to meet for dinner. Grady swore to himself he’d arrange it so they could dine alone. He didn’t want to share her attention with a table full of males again. Not when they had so little time left together.
On a new mission, he went through his duties as quickly as possible, then spent the remainder of his afternoon setting things up for an intimate dinner for two. His fellow Alvian soldiers may not understand emotion, but they certainly understood seduction. Since the change to their people, warriors, as a general rule, had to try harder to entice the females of their species into sharing their bodies.
Warriors were seen as less evolved and therefore less desirable than other classes of Alvian society. Yet it was their curse that they needed physical satiation more than others because of the echoes of aggression left in their genetic makeup to make them effective at their jobs. They had to get creative when seeking to share pleasure with a female. As a result, the other warriors understood without being told why Grady Prime was silently demanding privacy to share a meal with a female.
He didn’t have to explain to the cooks why he wanted special food items packed for travel, or why he required the best they had in the way of dishes and utensils. They also didn’t ask why he wanted a bottle of the fermented fruit juice the Alvian race had come to enjoy since colonizing this planet. They simply provided the meal and accoutrements and wished him good hunting.
Everything was set when Grady Prime walked back to the mess hall. He had left early, intending to intercept Gina before she had a chance to go inside. He arrived in the nick of time, calling out to her as she was about to open the door. She spun, a smile lighting her face when she saw him. She moved toward him and he stopped dead, entranced for a moment by the feminine loveliness of her.