Heat

“I am aware of the appearance of impropriety.” Tagen shrugged back into his uniform jacket and gave it a brisk tug to straighten it, adopting what he hoped was a solemn and dignified attitude, just as though he had not risen from a bed in which Daria lay resplendent with mating musk that morning. “When I stayed in her home on Earth, she gave me rooms of my own. As a ranking officer in the Fleet, I am entitled to take family-sized quarters, and upon my return, I requisitioned them. If you like, I can message her now so that you can see for yourselves what room her bed is in.”

“No one is suggesting you…that is…” vey Kosar looked around at the others as though hoping for support, or a script, but she was ignored. Inarr only sat with her head bent and her claws in her hair, Admiral Sta’al had resumed the intensive study of her hand, and Commander Cura was giving Tagen yet another disturbingly direct stare. In the end, the scientist settled for saying, “I’m certain you maintain admirable conduct at all times. Both of you.”

“Gods!” Inarr groaned and rubbed at her face. “Why must I live in such interesting times?” She sat up and gave Sta’al a hard look. “Is Rangan going to cast in on this lot at all?” she asked testily.

“The Governor’s official position is that this matter is not an executive one and should be addressed equally as a xenobiological hazard, a security risk, and a point of law.” Sta’al gave each represented branch a nod as she named them. “She’ll go along with whatever accord we reach, provided we reach it unanimously.”

“Bitch.” Inarr scratched at her throat, scowling. “I don’t want to be responsible for this disaster.”

“Which,” Admiral Sta’al said with a sigh, “is the meat of the matter, isn’t it? None of us want to be the one that sets this storm in motion. The eyes of all the world will be watching, and as the homeworld goes, so follows the rest of our colonies. There is no such thing in such circumstances as a ‘little’ mistake. But speaking for myself, I agree with sek’ta Pahnee. It is time, and indeed, it is long past time that the matter of the preserves was readdressed. And as much as Daria Cleavon impressed me when we met, it is the disappearance of the other human that troubles my sleep.”

Commander Cura grunted, nodding.

“If communications are opened between Jota and the preserves,” Sta’al continued, “if an alliance such as you suggest can be forged through such communications, and if humans under Jotan supervision respond favorably to such an alliance…then these are good and admirable things. I have committed myself to the belief that all living things deserve liberty and protection, most of all those who ca

Magistrate Inarr glanced at her, but there was no heat in the look. “Vey Kosar?” she asked sourly.

“We need information,” she said simply. “A willing subject who would honestly answer questions…that alone could perhaps double the present life-expectancy and infant mortality rates of the humans in the preserves. She says she’s willing to undergo complete medical exams? Imagine what we could learn! Nutritional needs, growth rates, common deficiencies of aging, childcare and pregnancy—”

“The location of the liver,” Tagen muttered, thinking back to vey Venekus’ main complaint.

“Precisely.” Vey Kosar spread her hands. “All she wants is a room in the back of an officer’s quarters with a sek’ta in full supervision at all times. She doesn’t even view that as imprisonment. What is the problem here?”

“And you?” Inarr glanced at Commander Cura.

“I can speak solely for Pahnee’s record and character,” he answered. “Both exemplary. He is not in the habit of chasing after humans. I haven’t met this one, but I must trust his assessment of her.”

“Oh, very well.” Magistrate Inarr flicked her claws dismissively and spun her chair away. “It’s bound to go over poorly no matter how we handle it, so we may as well bite the media full on the chin. We’ve got to look like we approve of this catastrophe. Congratulations, sek’ta Pahnee, you’ve just been promoted for your decisive and meritorious conduct on this mission.”

Tagen sighed.

“My feelings precisely,” the Magistrate muttered, and then spun back to scratch at the tabletop. “We have E’Var at least, and we can show him in shackles while we tell the fair citizens of all Jota’s worlds that a decorated officer is keeping a pet human in his closet.”

“I am not,” he said tightly.

“Oh, hush, male. I said you could keep her, didn’t I? Just, for the gods’ sakes, don’t take her anywhere. Not for a while at least.”

“She won’t mind the seclusion, will she?” vey Kosar asked. “Humans are very social creatures, from all accounts. Will the isolation…affect her?”

“I doubt it.” He refrained from commenting on all the practice she’d had adjusting to it. “She understands the necessity of discretion.”

*

“So does that mean they want me to be a neurotic shut-in?” Daria pressed, plating the prepared food.

“At least for now.”

“Yay!”

“Although there will be a conference later this season to introduce you before the media. Limited interactions, I’m sure, but very public. I’ve been instructed to teach you to speak Jotan.”

“Good.” Daria made just one of her eyes close in an singularly sly and alluring ma

“I advise you not to,” he said, his brows rising in feigned surprise, just as though he had not taught her the words himself. “Although, gods know, it would certainly present humans in a fetching light.”

She giggled. “Ladies and gentlemen of the press, tor y’ana sa y te chi’ay.”

“Chi’an is plural,” he remarked. “And the ladies, if there are any, will be at distinct odds to comply.”

“Just you, then.” She interlocked her slender fingers and perched her chin atop them, her eyes sparkling. “Tor u’ane sa y te chia’ay, Tagen.”

“Oh, if you insist.” He picked up the table, di

He took his time undressing her, even though she, in her youth-sized Jotan clothing, was far easier to access than in her old Earth-wear. Every inch of her was precious, every inch demanded to be kissed, caressed, admired. He unwrapped her in this slow, jubilant fashion, there in the corner of the kitchen, and knelt before her. He ran his hands wonderingly down her naked body all the way to her feet, and then back up to grip her hips as he pressed his mouth to her belly, her thighs, her sex.

Her hands clutched at his hair, pulling him even closer as his tongue coaxed her to open. Her cries, unbridled and dazzling with delight, sent flashes of pure sexual pleasure through him like lightning. He teased her with greater passion, greater tenderness, and her fragrant oils filled his senses for reward.

‘All my life,’ he thought dazedly, letting her passion coat his questing tongue. ‘I will have this amazing female for my own all my life.’

She tugged at his hair sharply, guiding him up so that she could pull his clothes away, her eyes glassy with the intensity of her desire. He could think of nothing he had done in his life to deserve such a wondrous, passionate female.

Or her cat, he thought, distractedly eyeing the orange paw that covertly hooked the cooling meat from Tagen’s plate and dragged it beneath the table. “Ah, lucky me,” he said, and pulled Daria with him to the tiled floor. It was cold at first, but not for long. In moments, they were joined together; in moments, there was only the heat of their breath, their blood, their bodies. There was only heat.

Blessed heat.

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