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    She shrugged. “A soldier. He’s stationed at the Embassy.”

    He hooked his hand beneath her chin and made her look up at him. “You were leaving with him. Did you take him as your lover when I left?”

    Shock registered on her face. It was quickly followed by a mixture of hurt and anger. “Exactly what makes you think you have the right to ask?”

    He didn’t have the right. It made him angrier that he didn’t. “Tell me.”

    Her lips tightened. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you the truth!”

    “Sybil,” he growled.

    “No! I didn’t even meet him until tonight!”

    “You have travelled two months with the bastard and you have only met him tonight?”

    Sybil glared at him in tight lipped silence.

    “Powell was your lover!” he said, leaping instantly from his current target to the man he’d seen sniffing around her the night he left.

    Sybil blinked at him. “I don’t understand you. I don’t understand this… interrogation!”

    Because it wasn’t rational, he wondered? He’d taken her as his lover because he’d wanted her, but also because it fit his needs beyond the bedroom, the needs of his people. He’d tried his best to be a thoughtful lover, to be generous with her, but he knew he’d still asked her to take him into her bed because he’d seen a possibility of using her to get what they needed. He had no right to behave, or think, as if his motives had been pure.

    It was his misfortune that he hadn’t been able to also keep a barrier erected between them to protect himself from bonding with her. His weakness toward her that had made him believe that she felt the same bond.

    He dragged in a deep breath to calm himself and released it slowly, tamping the jealousy still churning inside of him.

    He couldn’t have fucked up worse, he realized, if he actually had completely lost his mind! He’d made it abundantly clear to both her people and his own that he was putty in her hands-not that he gave a fuck about their opinion now that he thought on it! To hell with them if they were determined to look upon him as if he was… some sort of fucking machine, without function beyond supplying their needs.

    It was his life, too! He had given freely to his people. He had done all that he could for them. He had a right to take something for himself!

    In any case, his current situation was enough to deal with at the moment. He had behaved like a madman-or a savage!-lost all traces of civilized behavior. If she’d been a Sumpturian woman she would’ve been screaming assault or she would’ve already tossed him out of her room-which was yet another breach! He’d dragged her to his room. There was no excusing that complete disregard for her right to refuse him or her comfort in meeting him on her own ground.

    He swallowed with an effort, trying to think how to mend the mess he’d made. “I beg pardon,” he said stiffly, excruciatingly uncomfortable about having to apologize for his behavior even though he knew he was in the wrong. “Do you want me to leave?”

    She stared at him for a long moment and finally chuckled. “It’s your quarters.”

    He felt his face redden but it eased the tightness in his chest that she’d laughed. “Contrary to what it might seem, given my complete lapse of judgment, I know we’re in my quarters. Since I didn’t give you the option of throwing me out of yours, however, I’m obligated to offer you the option to throw me out of mine.”

    She studied his face. “It would serve you right, you know, if I did and you had to sleep on the floor in the hall.”

    “I know. I think public humiliation is probably the least I deserve.”

    She got up. For a moment his heart sank. Then he saw that she was struggling to remove her dress-which he saw he’d ruined-not permanently, he hoped. “Do you plan to sleep in your boots?” she asked, amusement threading her voice.

    Cringing inwardly, he sat up and removed his boots and the rest of his clothing, then lay back down, still half fearing she would snatch her clothing back on and stalk out. Instead, she smoothed her dress and folded it over the back of his chair and then moved back to the bed and climbed in beside him.

    He caught her arm, pulling her closer and then curled his arms around her. “I’m sorry, nodia,” he murmured against her neck, breathing her scent into his lungs gratefully.

    She touched his hair, smoothed it, cupped the back of his head. “It was actually exciting-a little scary, but thrilling, too.”

    He lifted his head to look at her. “And you think I’m mad? I behaved like a… barbarian!”

    Her lips curled at one corner. “But so passionate!”

    “And so worthless,” he said dryly. “Don’t ever lie to me again about that, nodia! I’m selfish enough. And I was unforgivably selfish in taking my own satisfaction and giving nothing.”

    She blushed. “I wasn’t lying. I enjoyed it.”

    He sent her a look. “I know what you look like when you’re satisfied, nodia

    She smiled. “You can make it up to me.”

    He shifted slightly away from her and ran a hand along her side, frowning slightly when he noticed there was barely any indentation at her waistline. Sybil froze, having been so swept away by his feverish need for her that she’d completely forgotten her condition-forgotten everything!

    There was amusement in his eyes when he met her gaze again. “My nodia is getting plump. I like this.”

    Oh he was going to love it when he realized why his nodia was so plump and round! She might have pursued that thought except that his mentioning her roundness brought something into focus that she hadn’t noticed before. He was noticeably thinner than the last time she’d seen him. The realization threw her into disorder. The fear leapt instantly to mind that he’d been ill or hurt and that accounted for it. When she saw no other signs of either illness or injury, though, the flattering thought flickered briefly through her mind that the weight loss might have been because he missed her.

    Fortunately, before her tongue ran away with her, it also flickered through her mind that she’d noticed a lot of the Sumpturians had the same gaunt look about them. Her belly clenched instantly with sympathy. She knew hunger when she saw it. She’d certainly seen it enough over the years to recognize slow starvation!

    The urge to burst into tears assailed her. She touched his face, traced it lightly with her fingers.

    He hadn’t wanted her to know, hadn’t wanted anyone to know. Pride? Or self-preservation? She realized it had been both. They had too much pride to ask for help and were too worried about revealing how vulnerable they were. The pieces that she hadn’t known she had been struggling to put together abruptly fell into place and she knew why they were here. They weren’t conquerors. They weren’t curious. They hadn’t even come willingly to colonize.

    They were refugees!

    She swallowed the clog of emotions in her throat with an effort when she realized that he was studying her face, must have read something of her thoughts because his own expression had closed. “I missed you,” she said finally. “I thought when you left that I wouldn’t see you again.”

    He seemed to relax fractionally. Instead of responding, however, he moved closer and nibbled a trail to her lips. She had to force herself to relax at first, force the churning, unsettling thoughts from her mind, but his kiss carried magic. It always had.

    Closing her mind resolutely to everything but his touch, she gave herself up to feeling every nerve within her body responding to him like a flower to the sun, awakening to sensation as if she’d been asleep and numb to the world without his touch. Dizziness assailed her as he explored her mouth and then moved lower to explore her sensitive breasts.