Her mouth watered, and she imagined running her hand through the dark hair brushing the top of his collar.
Ice clinked as he, still silent, made his drink. She wrenched her attention away from his tense wide shoulders because, if she stared at his indifference any longer, the stirring in her stomach would sour. The room was grand, a wonderful place to spend alone with her master for the next few days for their new bond to take hold. Though she didn’t need time. She was thoroughly bound.
Tapestries covered every surface in splendor, no amount of the metallic hull visible, even around the large picture window that showed the dock and the people scurrying to board. The wealthy in their fine adornments walked up the ramp, all smiles and relaxed. Below, barely visible on the loading deck filled with mech-barges carrying baggage and supplies, the workaday boarded the lower levels with harried expressions as they crowded into the limited space.
A familiarity of that scene, and a sense Guy’d be comfortable in such a crowd, brushed against a wall inside her. An almost tangible force that she quickly understood to be her former life. She didn’t resent the wall but accepted its presence.
With a crystal glass, its amber liquid sloshing in the ice, Guy crossed to the armoire, threw open the doors and accessed a console that he worked on for long moments. He shot her a glance, all business—closed off from her. “Getting updates on an investigation and making arrangements for our travel.”
Whatever he’d done, his expression didn’t change as he sat across from her again. Everything else fell away. The room, the people outside, the wall in her mind, all forgotten with a blink to be replaced with a curling excitement to be with the handsome man who was her life.
“We need to talk.” Guy blew out a long breath and leaned forward. The glass held loosely in one hand propped on a knee, the other ran through his hair and stayed there, clutching at the thick healthy strands with their sun-kissed streaks. He dropped his hand to dangle off his knee and stared at the plush woven rug.
Time stretched as she waited. The lull built into an aching pressure on her chest. She gasped. He finally looked up from the floor to give her a pitying once-over before his face hardened into a scowl again. She didn’t please him. Her cheeks grew hot.
“You don’t remember me, but I’ve known you for most of your life.”
She blinked rapidly, her thoughts whirling. The wall in her mind seemed more real, a tangible block, when scant moments ago it’d been a whisper, a nonentity with no emotion attached to it. The heat in her cheeks cooled so fast, she shivered with the chill.
“Don’t be frightened,” Guy insisted. “I’ll always take care of you. Always.”
His complexion, full of life and deeply bronzed from time spent planet-side, paled considerably. He put his drink down on a side table, crossed his arms and slouched back in his chair with legs spread wide.
“This will take a few minutes to explain. You need to stay over there while I do it and don’t look so vulnerable while you’re at it. Don’t cry or touch me, or I’ll never make it through this.” He sounded angry, but his words steadied her.
“Your name is Jewel Quinn. Or it was. You have a married name now, Geanus. You left our home world five years ago, and I hadn’t heard a word about you since. Your father expected you home yesterday. Said you left your husband and were bringing your young son home.”
“Son.” Jewel blinked again, hard.
A dark premonition, like a gray fog, reached across the room, but when Guy didn’t react, she shivered, dreaded the truth that she saw things that weren’t there. No question it existed only in her mind, along with the pounding that reverberated inside her skull.
The nonentity, a whispery mental block, solidified. The partition in her memories vibrated like a drum’s skin.
His lips moving, Guy watched her closely with