Free Sleeping With the Enemy by Kaitlyn O'Connor Page A

looked uncomfortable. “We lost communications with them. No, I’m not completely certain, but it seems likely.”
        Anka nodded grimly. “Inform me immediately if you manage to reestablish communications. Otherwise, you’ll need to take a team out when it’s possible to retrieve the units to see if there’s anything salvageable.”
        Onur looked uncomfortable. “I think the damage to the construction site was pretty heavy, as well.”
        “Very likely that will be more a matter of wasted man-hours than resources. Let me know when you have a full report on it.”
        He paused in the corridor outside of the command center, trying to decide where to go next. Remembering abruptly that he’d offered to try to retrieve Sybil’s flight suit, he headed down to the recycling center. It wasn’t difficult to find. The materials it was made of were not like anything that they had. Beyond that, there wasn’t actually a lot that made it to the recycler. No one was willing to give anything up as long as there was some use to be had from it.
        He hesitated as he retrieved it, an image of her in the bulky flight suit rising to his mind. He supposed it served a purpose, but she didn’t need it now, regardless of what she thought. She certainly needed something, however. From the moment he’d seen her in the short top and briefs that left her more bare than clothed, he had been on fire. He’d refused to consciously acknowledge it, but he wouldn’t have done anything as stupid as he had if he’d had an ounce of self-control or resistance. And he wouldn’t have as much control now as he’d had before when it was only his imagination working upon him.
        It wasn’t that he regretted the impulse to try to protect her. Although he acknowledged that it would’ve been a useless gesture if the hull actually had been breached, the impulse to do so was telling in itself. He hadn’t considered that it would be useless. He hadn’t considered anything beyond trying to protect her.
        Until he’d gathered her into the dubious shelter of his body. Even his fear that they would both be crushed by the atmospheric pressure and suffocated by Venus’ toxic fumes hadn’t been enough to allow him to completely detach his mind from her then, though.
        He hadn’t expected to see interest in her eyes when he’d looked down at her despite the way she’d clung to him. He’d expected to see fear, perhaps dawning revulsion when she realized who, and what, was holding her. Maybe it was the unexpectedness of it that had thrown him completely off kilter, but that was little comfort… now.
        He should’ve pulled away from her.
        He didn’t even know why he’d felt the urge to kiss her and yet that was exactly what had popped into his mind. It was an Earth mating ritual, not theirs and, as aware of he had been of it, he had never been particularly curious about it, couldn’t recall that he’d ever wondered, until he’d found himself looking down at Sybil, what it must feel like when they did that.
        It had felt almost like the act of love-making itself, more intimate in some strange way that he couldn’t quite grasp than many times when he actually had made love to a woman.
        He tried to crush the thought and banish it. She wouldn’t consider taking him as a lover even if it was possible, and it wasn’t-not what he wanted, in any case. She wouldn’t understand their customs.
        He didn’t completely understand the Earth customs, if it came to that, although he knew the mechanics of their various liaisons. With them they were either lovers or mates, together or not. They took lovers, but not in the way his people did. There was no real relationship. There was no expectation that they would form a long term bond, perhaps have children together. They were merely lovers and free to go to another whenever they chose. Their lovers had no rights, no expectations beyond the moment.
        Not that