Sleeping With the Enemy

    His lips tightened. “Very likely they would’ve disposed of it in the disposal chute. I was afraid of that.”

    Sybil stared at him in disbelief, wondering if he’d deliberately misled her to get her alone for some reason. “But… you said they were droids! They wouldn’t have done anything without being told to! I don’t understand why they took my suit to start with!”

    His expression hardened at the accusing note in her voice. “They are autonomous. They would be useless if they weren’t.

    “They removed the suit to examine you. The transporters were not designed for humans but for us. We recalibrated it using our knowledge of humans, but you were unconscious. I thought it would be best for them to examine you.”

    Sybil stared at him as that sank in. “It was you… In the ship.”

    “Yes.”

    She didn’t know how she felt about that. “We aren’t that different,” she said a little doubtfully.

    He cocked one eyebrow at her. She had the feeling that he was surprised at the comment. “No. We are not, but we are not the same either.” He hesitated. “Its standard procedure to dispose of possible contaminates. Very likely that is what has become of the missing suit.”

    That was inarguable since it was standard practice for them, as well-except she’d been decontaminated before she’d gone aboard, damn it! If they knew so much, they should’ve known that, too! “You’re saying it’s been destroyed?”

    “Recycled-though not necessarily-not yet.” He seemed to debate with himself. “If it is that important to you, wait here, and I will go to the disposal unit and look for it.”

    Sybil followed him when he turned to leave. “Why can’t I go with you?”

    He halted and glanced at her. She could tell just from his hesitancy that he didn’t want to tell her or that, maybe, he was debating just how much he wanted her to know. Before she could try to press him, an enormous explosion somewhere close by caught them both off guard. Sybil hadn’t managed to react with more than a shocked intake of breath before Anka grabbed her, shoved her against a bulkhead, and curled himself around her. She clutched at him instinctively as the explosion shook the building. “What is it?” she gasped fearfully.

    “A volcanic eruption,” he responded, his voice harsh with his own fear, distracted, threaded with just enough doubt that it flickered through her mind that he wasn’t any more certain than she was.

    She clutched him more tightly as shockwaves traveled through the wall behind her and the floor. “Oh god! Are we safe?”

    “The doors seal automatically,” he said absently.

    Protecting each room individually, she realized, but it didn’t necessarily follow that it would protect them if the room took a direct hit from a volcanic missile. She didn’t know how long they huddled together before the shockwaves petered out and her focus shifted from a fearful expectation of imminent death to the body shielding hers. Little by little, though, as the fear began to subside she became more and more aware of him and less aware of her surroundings.

    He didn’t feel alien to her. He felt… male, strong, protective. Surprise flickered through her when it dawned on her that he’d instinctively sought to protect her, to shield her with his own body. A tingling warmth followed that that had nothing to do with the warmth filtering through her from his warm body. She became aware of their mingling scents from the warmth they were generating, most particularly his. A wave of dizziness swept through her.

    He eased away from her finally and looked down at her. She discovered when she lifted her head to look up at him that they were far closer than she’d realized and yet, once she’d met his gaze she couldn’t seem to look away. She felt the heat between them magnify.

    His gaze flickered over her face. “Curious?” he murmured in a deep, husky voice that sent a quivering through her.

    She swallowed with an effort, commanding herself to turn away, to pull away. Reluctance to do so filled her. “Yes,” she whispered.

    He expelled a heavy breath, seemed to debate with himself briefly and then closed the distance between them, brushing his lips lightly along hers. She waited for revulsion to set in, tried to summon it, and then licked her dried lips, tasting him when she did and feeling an instant surge of want.

    He nibbled at her lips with his, as if trying to decide if he also wanted more, and then abruptly covered her mouth. Her heart slammed into her ribcage, began to surge against it, but it wasn’t fear. It should have been, but it wasn’t.

    There was nothing threatening about his kiss, nothing to dredge up a sense of self-preservation. His touch appealed and his taste appealed even more. She opened her mouth to him in invitation and felt a drugging wave of desire flood her the moment he slid his tongue along hers and filled her senses with himself.

    It was wrong, she thought dizzily. She shouldn’t feel any of the things she felt, but she was more disappointed when he pulled away than she could recall. For several moments, he met her gaze when he’d withdrawn. She found herself hoping he would want to kiss her again and then he pulled away completely, stepping away from her.

    “That wasn’t wise,” he muttered-to himself, she thought, but he spoke English.

    And he was right. It had been stupid, really stupid.

    “I will take you back to the others and then see what I can find for you to wear.”

    She didn’t argue. Wryly, she admitted she wasn’t exactly cold anymore. She was far more conscious of her scanty attire than before, though.

Chapter Four

    Spencer was awake, completely alert, and bristling with hostility when they returned to the observatory. His gaze flicked over the two of them and then skimmed over her more slowly, insultingly… accusingly. She didn’t believe her ‘guilt’ had shown until he made her feel dirty from that look. Without glancing at Anka, she strode quickly across the observatory and into the room that had been set aside for her and Holly Rains.

    Holly had already claimed one of the bunks. She was sitting up, though, wedged in one corner as if she thought she might be absorbed by the wall behind her. Her gaze wasn’t accusing as Spencer’s had been-Powell’s, for that matter-but there was speculation in her eyes.

    Sybil climbed onto the empty bunk since there was no other place to sit and drew the cover up to cover herself.

    “Are you alright?”

    Sybil swallowed with an effort. She didn’t think so. She didn’t especially want to think about what she’d done, though. “Yes. I guess. I’d hoped to get my flight suit back, but it wasn’t there. Anka said the droids had probably disposed of it in case it was contaminated, but he said he’d see if it was still useable and get me something else if it wasn’t.”

    Holly’s brows rose. “That’s where you went!”

    Sybil grimaced. “Not that I think the guys won’t be able to control themselves-there certainly isn’t anything sexy about the t-shirt and panties!-but I’d be a lot more comfortable with clothes.”

    Holly nodded. “Why did they take it off, do you think? Did they…?”

    Sybil’s stomach rolled, more because she knew immediately that the others were speculating about the same thing than because she felt that she had. “It was droids that examined me. I doubt anything happened.”

    “But you were unconscious.”

    “What’s that supposed to mean?” Sybil demanded angrily.

    She could tell from the guilty look that Holly tried to hide exactly what was running through her mind. “Nothing. I’m just saying you don’t know and… maybe that’s a good thing.”