Free Unbound by Kay Danella Page B

that way.”
    Asrial’s pronouncement took Romir by surprise. Surely his enthusiasm last night had been plain? But her face was set, intent on distasteful duty.
    “I—certainly not. That is not it at all.”
    His shocked protest did not seem to make an impression on her. She entered the larger storeroom with an air of purpose, her attention focused entirely on the contents of the shelves. If today was a repeat of the previous day, he could expect more silence while she took inventory, ignoring him as a matter of course. He did not want that.
    The sudden realization stunned him: he wanted her attention . . . and he could do something about it. He was no longer trapped in the gray mists, subject to a vyzier’s whims.
    “May I help?” Romir stood deliberately close—too close for her to ignore gracefully. Despite her abrupt manner, instinct told him grace was ingrained in her nature.
    “You might as well make yourself useful.” Her acceptance of his aid was less than gracious, but it was better than the alternative. He found an unwitting smile on his face, one that took conscious effort to erase.
    Asrial was methodical in her undertaking, always starting on her right, working by sections, from the lowest shelf to the topmost. Her comments hinted at an inquisitive mind, yet she displayed no curiosity about him and his admission of being djinn. The dichotomy puzzled him, drew him in, made him watch her even more closely.
    And what he saw made him want her more.
     
     
    After several days, Asrial didn’t know what to make of Romir. She could tell he wanted her; there was no denying his willingness. But he’d bring her to orgasm . . . and that was as far as he went! What man didn’t want pleasure? He wasn’t doing it to build her excitement; he gave her pleasure then just stopped. After several nights of that, he still held out.
    What did that say about her as a woman, that he didn’t want her that way? She shoved that thought into storage in the back of her mind and locked it down. That had nothing to do with anything!
    Consider the fact that he didn’t eat, not in her presence, and wasn’t raiding her supplies behind her back. That was enough to throw any sentient for a loop. Plus he didn’t use the bio unit, didn’t seem to need to piss or crap. He didn’t shave, but his stubble didn’t get any darker or thicker. And he didn’t share her bed.
    That last peeved her. She was accustomed to her solitude, reveled in it to a certain extent. She wasn’t used to sharing her space with other people any longer. Ever since her parents’ deaths, she’d flown alone. Face it, you’ve become a hermit. Now, she was constantly tripping over him, worried about him when he wasn’t around, didn’t have any privacy unless she went to the bio unit, but he made no effort to share her bed, and that last was what really peeved her. How contrary was that?
    Every night since she’d told him she couldn’t sleep with him on her floor, he left her cabin once he’d finished pleasuring her. And each morning, the first thing she saw when she stepped out of her cabin was Romir standing in the corridor, waiting for her.
    On top of those, there was the mystery of the doors: no amount of troubleshooting revealed why they opened to him without his touching the lock panel. She’d had to set that question aside to focus on the thruster problem, but it still bugged her.
    Despite the perks of frequent sex, in her heart, Asrial suspected she’d cheer when Romir finally left the Castel for . . . wherever his destination. He posed too fascinating a distraction at a time when she couldn’t afford one.
    Beeeeee—
    The sudden shrill interrupted her train of thought. She clicked the tester off, irritation driving her thumb harder on the button than necessary. Her frigging mind had wandered again.
    At this rate, the Castel would be Jumping into the Xerex sector with a dodgy thruster. Not a good idea. Unlike entry into a deserted planet with all