Part 14 (1/2)

”I always pay my debts.”

Her knee had to pick that moment to buckle, but with a stray psi thought, she stiffened her suit and barely tottered. She thought he might be rough, but he lowered his head with a tender slowness, giving her every opportunity to change her mind.

As if that would happen.

Inhaling the scent of his tangy breath, she refrained from rising onto her tiptoes and savored the fact that he was coming to her in his own rough-hewn fas.h.i.+on. Ah, this was one of the reasons she'd so much wanted so much to be human, to experience the senses that fed the emotions that- His lips caressed hers and she savored the quiet softness of his kiss that contrasted with the loud thuds of her heartbeat. He took his time, and the warmth of his mouth raked hers, heat slipping and sliding into her core, raising her temperature until a fever raged and erotic s.h.i.+vers trembled down her spine.

84.

She parted her lips, welcoming his tongue and the taste of full-bodied masculine heat. Until now she hadn't understood how she could feel fire and ice together, in the same moment. She hadn't believed that every last sizzling cell in her body could be electrified by such a kiss, or how that energy could wrap her in a sensual coc.o.o.n of crisp and tangy desire. She hadn't understood that one kiss would make her want so much more.

Kissing Zical was like all the stars in the universe s.h.i.+nning on her at once And she glowed from the inside out with a happy, uncontainable thrill that she would never forget. She'd wound her hands around his head, threaded her fingers into his thick dark hair, pressed her chest against his, and reveled in the richly textured sensations of humanity, sugared powered infatuation dusted with granulated l.u.s.t.

She didn't have the experience to catalogue the exact emotions that tumbled inside her. Like smoldering paint becoming mixed on an artist's palette, first sizzling raspberry reds, then dusty burnt oranges, and finally pure pa.s.sion pinks slashed with vivid purple highlights rippled and feathered and stroked her into a frenzy of desire.

And she who had spent her life in a parched desert of circuitry was suddenly drowning in l.u.s.trous, gleaming, torrid... life.

She lost all sense of the pa.s.sage of time. Closing her eyes, she focused on only him, their fused lips, their breaths mingling, his heart beating next to hers, creating a current of spice and a tide of bracing need. His kiss was so much more than she'd dreamed, that she couldn't quantify a.n.a.lyze, a.s.sess. Not with her senses spinning madly out of control. Not her blood roaring in her ears. Not with the wonder of finally being exactly where she wanted to be-in his arms.

When he broke the kiss to draw a ragged breath, she opened her eyes, searched his face, but she'd no idea that she would see surprise mingling with regret. Regret? Was she reading his expression incorrectly?

”What's wrong?” she murmured, and attempted to tug his head back down to where they could kiss, again and again.

”You still can't come with me.”

She allowed him to see a small smile. ”If I thought I could change your mind with a kiss I wouldn't know you very well, now would I?”

Her lack of argument seemed to confuse him. His eyes narrowed. ”What are you up to?”

She giggled. ”You believe that just because I enjoy kissing you I have ulterior motives?”

”Absolutely.”

He grasped her wrist, pulled her hand from behind his head where she gripped his hair, and stepped back. His expression might appear stoic, but his flesh had a ruddy tone and his pupils remained slightly dilated, exhibiting fierce desire.

85.

She sighed. ”Ah, you give me too much credit.” Or perhaps himself too little. ”I wanted to experience a kiss. Now I have.”

”And?”

”Your kiss was wonderful-just as I've always suspected. You are a very pa.s.sionate man.”

”And you are a pa.s.sionate woman-but not the one for me.” Zical tightened his lips and a muscle tic appeared in his neck. He waited a moment for her to argue. She didn't.

She spoke mildly as if his reaction meant little to her, as if she didn't care that he might leave Mystique, never to return. Rystani men were strong, proud creatures who didn't bend easily. Although she could have given him a dozen reasons to take her along, he would he closed to her words. ”I can see your mind is set.”

”And you accept my decision?”

h.e.l.l, no. ”Do I have a choice? She gazed at him, keeping her eyes downcast, her face demure, then wondered if she was overacting. Surety he wouldn't believe she would be so compliant and meek? But be appeared, only a tad suspicious, no doubt seeing what he wanted, to see.

He really should have known better.

Chapter Eight.

Dora. Hadn't been human long enough to collect many objects that meant anything; a holovid of her and Tessa, another of their entire family, and her link that permitted direct access to Ranth. Tessa had taught her that Federation credits might not be accepted currency everywhere, so Dora had stocked some luxury items that might be of use for barter. Traveling on a stars.h.i.+p didn't allow much room for baggage, but since Dora didn't have much to pack, she was finished before Tessa arrived, giving her time to decide how much to reveal.

As much as Dora had wanted her friends to see her as human, as much as Dora realized Zical resented it when she plugged in, she would have felt very limited if she hadn't the ability to link with Ranth. And although Tessa was aware that Dora often tapped into the mainframe circuitry, she'd a.s.sumed the process was similar to her calling up verbal information or accessing a monitor. Dora, had never seen a reason to correct Tessa's faulty a.s.sumption.

Until now.

Stomach churning at the deception she was about to reveal to her best friend, Dora paced, or tried to between stumbles. She swore at her body that refused to work properly, wondered if that was why Zical didn't want her. A thought quiet unfair to him. Zical wasn't the kind of man to push away a woman for such a minor physical defect. He was better than that, which was only one of the reasons why she found him so d.a.m.n appealing.

Her handicap prevented her from feeling beautiful, she was determined to get over the problem. It wasn't as she had low self-esteem. She knew her intelligence was superior to the norm, and her looks gorgeous despite the imperfections that wouldn't go away. However much she'd wanted to be perfect, she'd quickly learned that being human required mult.i.tasking, and if she could be excellent enough at one thing, her imperfections would be overlooked. When she'd figured out the Perceptive Ones'

message, no one had cared that she'd twitched her way through her explanation. Zical had even looked proud of her.

Tessa breezed into Dora's quarters with a mug of coffee one hand and a platter of Miri's home-baked chocolate chip cookies, a Terran delicacy that Dora had come to appreciate as much as Tessa. The delicious scent usually made mouth water. Too nervous to eat, she knew she wouldn't be able to swallow a bite until she'd divulged her secret.

Tessa took one look at Dora and set down both coffee and cookies. ”What's up?”

”I've deceived you.”

87.

”Okay.” Tessa shot her a searching look. I'm sure had a good reason, but even if you didn't, I want you to know that no matter what you've done, I love you.” Tessa's gaze s.h.i.+fted to the packed bag, then back to Dora. ”Whatever you've done, don't ever forget that you have a family, you belong with us, and it's very human to make mistakes. You don't need to leave. We're here for you.”

At Tessa's words, Dora's throat clogged with those horrible tears and her nose turned all stuffy. She sniffled, hating the idea of leaving her very best friend, a friend who gave love so unconditionally ”Thanks.”

The two women hugged and Dora praised her lucky circuits that she had such a dear friend. She was going to miss Tessa.