time, Ms. Bonham.”
“Good time?” Her eyes bugged. “The ship leaves in less than a month and I have two babies to provide for!”
“I’m well aware of both facts,” he said, hooking a hard right and heading into a tranlift.
She followed him in, too grateful for the breather to be unnerved by the tight quarters. “Then please, sir, just give me five minutes.”
“I’m sorry but I haven’t a moment to spare this morning.” Both his brilliant hair and scarlet robe flared out majestically as he turned on his heel. Staring straight over her head at the door, he added, “I’ll be happy to speak with you upon my return.”
“And just when—eep!”
He grabbed her by the upper arms and set her aside so he could exit through the door she hadn’t even heard open. So much for her breather—where was a damn slow elevator when you needed one?
Chafing her tingling arms, she raced after him. “And just when will you return?”
“I can’t say for certain.”
Shelley blinked back tears of rage. Redheaded bastard. He could ink everyone into his schedule but her.
Dammit, she knew she’d regret staying under his so-called protection. She should have started kicking and screaming and demanding to be sent back to Earth as soon as she recovered from the delivery, media firestorm or no. He knew damn good and well she’d had absolutely no idea who Mark really was or what he’d been up to. Hell, she still didn’t know if she’d even been legally married to the prick.
She followed the minister through yet another sliding door and her eyes widened when she realized they were in the transport bay. Behind the instrument panel stood Ensign Holligan, whose pink- and lavender-striped blond hair reminded Shelley of her old My Little Pony figures. Commander Kellen, Lieutenant Shauss, Hastion and two other aliens she didn’t know were already on the flare platform, clearly waiting for Minister Cecine. The instant he stepped up there, they’d all disappear and she’d be left standing here like an idiot.
Her jaw tightened until her teeth creaked. Enough was enough, dammit. He was not going to leave her twisting in the wind for one more minute.
Grabbing two handfuls of his velvety robe, she yanked hard and yelled, “Talk to me, you big jerk!”
Everyone in the room froze and it got so quiet you could have heard a pin bounce off the thick biologic pad underfoot.
Acutely conscious of all the incredulous stares directed her way, Shelley thought she did, in fact, hear a bead of sweat drip off her second chin and plop softly onto her pink T-shirt.
She swallowed hard as the minister slowly turned to look down at her. Way, way down. Their bodies were less than a foot apart and the proximity was setting off red alerts all over hers. She could actually feel the heat radiating off him. She could even smell him—the almond dermal scrub that filled every soap dispenser on the ship and a light, tasty cologne of some kind. He reminded her of those windmill cookies her mother had always bought in bulk.
When his gaze dropped pointedly to the hem of his robe, she released the crushed fabric, smoothing it with her sweaty palms as it slipped away.
Licking her suddenly dry lips, she said, “Sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m really sorry I called you a jerk. I just…well, I’m going a little crazy being cooped up here for so long.”
His expression didn’t change. “Then I suggest you make an appointment with Dr. Tiber.”
Irritation tightened her jaw again. “I don’t need a shrink. I need to get off. This. Ship.”
“And so you shall. Eventually.”
When the minister turned again and stepped up onto the platform, Hastion shot her an appalled look. Shelley threw her hands up, shooting back a wide-eyed glare that said, What the hell was I supposed to do?
“But for now,” the minister said as he faced her, “you may rest assured that the Alien Affairs Department is working hard to find a suitable