Enemy Overnight (12 page)

She glanced over her shoulder. “Put
him
in front of the escape pods next time and I’ll show you.”

Zannen’s bark of laughter made her jump but oddly, he said nothing.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Hastion asked. “Did you have brothers to defend yourself against?”

“No, no brothers or sisters. I took martial arts classes.”

“You don’t look dangerous.”

“I’m not unless I’m backed into a corner.”

“As you are now?” Tiber prodded.

Jasmine didn’t know what to say to that. To tell the truth, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep from utilizing her fighting skills, such as they were, in the coming hours. She was frightened, and if her reactions during Shauss’ attack were anything to go by, instinct might kick in before her conscious mind even registered a threat.

“I’ll try not to hurt anyone.”

“We’ll be prepared this time,” Hastion said dryly.

“Are you all right?” Tiber asked. “You sound as if you’ve been crying.”

Jasmine tensed. Her nostrils and sinuses were now lined with a thin, oxygen-permeable membrane called galathene barrier. She’d had to snort up a pile of clear, shiny powder and chase it with a squirt of saline to activate it. Just the memory of that creeping feeling in her nose as it gelled made her shudder. The slight stuffiness was supposed to subside within minutes, but apparently it didn’t get that memo.

“Um, yeah, but I’m okay now,” she said, feeling only a little guilty. Anxious to move on, she asked, “So what about you, Hastion—do you have brothers and sisters?”

“I had two brothers and a twin sister, Aylee,” he said as they stepped into the tranlift. “My eldest brother had my mother and sister assassinated and was eventually executed for his crimes.”

“How awful for you!” Jasmine gasped.

“I was but a babe at the time, so I barely remember any of them. My father remated to a lovely female whose loss I felt much more keenly when she succumbed to the biowar virus.”

Empathy and guilt wrung her guts like a fist, and she raised a trembling hand over her stomach. Her people had done that to him—deprived him of yet another mother. How could they possibly justify ending so many lives? How could her parents have?

When the tranlift door opened on Ayerra Deck, they started down another corridor and eventually entered a bedroom that was a lot bigger than the one she shared with Portia—and it even had a window, which Jasmine walked directly to. Anything to keep from looking at the bed.

“Shauss’ quarters, I assume?” she asked Tiber.

“And yours now.”

“Apparently we won’t all be cohabitating?”

“The ship’s living quarters weren’t designed to accommodate polyamorous mates, so Hastion and I will maintain our own quarters for now.”

Well, that was a relief.

“If we were on Garathan, we’d all live together?”

“Yes.” He opened a drawer in the massive cabinet. “We moved your few personal belongings while you were in examination.”

Jasmine peered inside and was thrilled to see her panties and the bottle of vanilla right on top of her clothes. She snatched up the bottle at once.

“I hate being without my cosmetics and perfume,” she explained as she dabbed some on her wrists and neck. It was silly how much safer she felt being able to take this one simple precaution. If there weren’t three alien males watching her every move, she’d bathe in it.

Tiber smiled. “Ah, I’d wondered what that was for.”

The door opened and she bit her lip, dropping the vanilla back in the drawer as her heart immediately began its Shauss dance.

“We arrived unaccosted,” Hastion reported.

Shauss’ brow crooked in amusement. “No surprise, since Zannen is the only one I might expect to accost you.”

“True.”

“That will be all for now.”

After the others left, a flowering plant in a lovely ceramic pot appeared on the table by the flare window. Jasmine gasped. It was a
Jasminum sambac
in full bloom.

“I understand you have an affinity for flora.” Shauss propped his shoulder against the wall by the door and crossed his arms.

“It’s absolutely gorgeous,” she breathed, leaning over to inhale the flowers’ heady fragrance. The hint of fresh soil made her stomach cramp with hunger and she backed away quickly. Good Lord, she hadn’t had an episode of pica since she was a child but it felt like it was about to make a resurgence. “Where in the world did you get this?”

“The ship’s terrarium.”

Her eyes widened as her heart raced. “The ship has a terrarium? Really?”

He smiled. “It does indeed. I take it you’d like to see it?”

“See it?” she breathed. “I’d like to live there.” God, she’d missed plants and flowers and trees. The compound had been situated on a vast, barren parcel of land with plenty of visibility, so even when there wasn’t snow up to her chin, being outdoors hadn’t held much appeal.

“That’s not possible, of course, but you’re welcome to spend time there when our schedules allow.” He straightened and stepped over to the wardrobe. Opening one of the doors, he removed a small, flat box and held it out to her. The logo of an exclusive jewelry store was embossed on the lid. “I have another bonding gift for you.”

She froze. Gifts. The man was giving her gifts. When had he found the time to go shopping?
How
had he been able to go shopping? It wasn’t like a seven-foot Garathani warrior could browse the shops inconspicuously.

Licking her lips, she said, “Shauss, this bond is temporary. When the situation on Earth is resolved, I’m going home.”

“I’m aware of that. Open it, please.”

Feeling like a total fraud, Jasmine reluctantly took the box and peeled off the lid. Inside, on a bed of white velvet, lay a chain of delicate gold jasmine flowers.

She swallowed convulsively as she blinked back tears. “I can’t accept this.”

“You can and you will.” He picked up the necklace and moved behind her. “Lift your ponytail out of the way.”

She obeyed even as she protested, “I don’t deserve it.”

He slid the chain around her throat and fastened it. It was a choker. “I added the locking clasp myself and I’m the only one who can take it off you.”

Her pulse went weak and thready. It felt as if he’d truly claimed her, especially when he pulled out her scrunchie and combed her stubbornly straight hair over her shoulders with his fingers. The sensation sent shivers down her back.

Turning her to face him, he asked, “Aren’t you going to thank me?”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For the plant too. I love it. I love them both.”

He slid a finger under her chin and tipped her face up. “Surely you can do better than that.”

Her heart cracked. The amusement that had been missing from his expression since she’d helped the ambassador was back, only now it was…warm. Almost affectionate.

“Shauss,” she choked out as she reached for him. Fortunately he met her halfway so she was able to get her arms around his neck and bury her face in his strong throat as he squeezed her trembling body against him.

God, this deception was going to tear her apart. Everything in her wanted to just blurt out the truth, but three things held her back—loyalty to her father, respect for her mother’s memory, and the knowledge that if she confessed now, Shauss might not take her. And she wanted him. Oh, how she wanted him! If he found out about her afterward, it wouldn’t matter so much if he pulled out that broadsword and lopped her head off—she would at least have tasted him and known the passionate strength of his long, lean body.

Swallowing her tears once more, she pressed her lips to his throat and felt his pulse leap.

“My mouth is up here,” he murmured.

She smiled, feeling calmer as she slid her face through the silky fall of his hair. “Mine is down here.”

He ducked and claimed her in a kiss that stole every thought from her head. Without breaking contact with her mouth, he tugged her arms from his neck and pushed them behind her, clasping both her wrists in one hand. When his other hand cupped the back of her head so that he could feed from her mouth, she whimpered at the helplessness flooding her.

Only one thing could have made the experience more sensually complete…

Scent.

Jasmine King’s was absolutely divine—rich, creamy vanilla and a definite hint of musk that sent a knife of pure desire through his balls.

Shauss slid his mouth down the vulnerable column of her throat, licking and sucking and trying to glean all the flavor there was of her on the way to his destination. Letting go of her wrists, he reached for the tab of her zipper and tugged.

Jasmine put her hands on his chest. “Um, are we going to do this now? I thought you had twenty-four hours.”

“The sooner I do it,” he said against her collarbone, “the less chance some fool will try to preempt my claim.”

“Would someone really do that?” she asked doubtfully.

“Pret stole Monica.”

“Yes, but she’s Garathani. I’m just…me.”

Shauss frowned. “Jasmine, I’m not certain why you doubt your value as a female, but you need to get over it for your own safety. There are few males on this ship who wouldn’t knife their own brothers for the chance to mate with you.”

She swallowed audibly. “Oh, okay. So then we do need to do this now.”

“Wouldn’t you rather get it out of the way so that you can concentrate on this evening’s dinner?”

“Probably,” she confessed, sliding her hands over his hard pectorals with a sigh. “I just…”

“You just what?”

“Forget it. It’s nothing. “

Deciding it would be in his best interests not to challenge her now, he sucked her into another kiss, relishing the honeyed sweetness of her lips as he pulled her zipper down to her navel and slipped his palm into the humid opening. She tensed but then relaxed when his palm coasted around her ribs to rub her bare back.

As the kiss grew more heated, she squirmed against him, plucking at his uniform to draw him closer. Shauss slid his hand from behind her neck and dragged it down the opening in her wrapsuit, pausing between her plump breasts and savoring the ragged beating of her heart before curving it over her ribs. He let his thumb brush the small, hard point of her nipple on his way past and she gasped but didn’t object. Nonetheless, he continued on around and let both his hands rove the delicate ridges of her back under her suit.

Breaking the kiss, she said, “Shauss, please!”

“Please what?”

“Please hurry!”

“We have plenty of time,
aramai
.”

“I don’t care!”

“Such impatience,” he chided, taking a mock bite of her chin. “Who is here to please whom?”

“Is this a trick question?” Her breathing grew ragged. “Aren’t we…here to please each other?”

“Indeed. And you do please me very much simply by breathing. However…” He firmed his voice. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

A frown furrowed her brow.

“Who belongs to whom, Jasmine King?” he pressed, threading a hand into her hair and pulling her head back to face him. “Whom do you need to please in order to get what you want?”

She sighed, leaning her cheek on his palm. “Shauss, please don’t ruin this. I told you, I’m not submissive. I never was and I never will be. Just ask my father,” she added. Then she straightened, her eyes widening as if she’d swallowed a
firi
bone.

He watched her carefully for a moment before saying, “Tell me about your father.”

Impossibly, her eyes went even wider. “Now?”

“He seems to have some bearing on our current impasse.”

“Hardly,” she snorted. “He and I just…don’t get along. He’s impossible to please and I’m tired of trying. End of story.”

“Ah, now that tells me all I need to know.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m not your father, Jasmine, and I’m far from impossible to please.”

“You want to control me.”

Without denying it, he countered, “I want you to trust me.”

“Trust you to do what?” she cried, pulling away from him.

He let her go. “To please you.”

“To please…
me
. Right.” Shaking her head, she pulled the front of her wrapsuit closed. “You’re talking in circles.”

“It
is
a circle, really—an exchange of power that pleasures everyone involved.”

“But how can it be an exchange if you get all the power?”

Shauss paused, struck by how much he wanted her to understand. “Because that power,” he said softly, “is a gift only you can give me. It’s not a gift if I have to take it by force.”

She gazed up at him, yearning, fear and indecision clear on her features.

“Do you want what I have to give you?” he asked.

“Yes!”

“And I want the gift of your submission. So tell me, Jasmine…whom must you please in order to get what you want?”

After a moment, her eyes darkened. “You. I have to please you. I
want
to please you.”

“Very good,
aramai
,” he said, satisfaction seeping into every part of him.

“Gentlemen,”
he sent, “
the time has arrived.”

“Why do you keep calling me that—
aramai
?” she asked as he slipped his warm hands back into the opening of her suit and pulled her against him.

“It’s a very beautiful flower native to my homeworld.” Brushing a kiss over her lips, he added, “If you’d like, you may call me
mellors
.”

“What does that mean?”

He grinned. “Well-hung gardener.”

Jasmine giggled nervously. “Mellors was the gamekeeper, not the gardener, you goof.”

“I don’t know—he seemed fairly adept at making Lady Chatterley blossom,” he insisted, skimming his hand from her back to her hip and around to her belly.

She froze, waiting breathlessly for him to head south. Hope and fear warred within her—would he make her blossom? Would he feel her nook?

That lovely, long-fingered hand slid down as he kissed her mouth again, and she whimpered. God, how she’d dreamed of this. She tried to let everything else fade into the background as she tasted him again, wanting nothing more than to let down her guard and sink into the moment completely, to soak him up like a sponge.