Chapter Fifteen

"You will never guess what happened!" A grin stretching from ear to ear, Prudence vibrated with excitement over the vid-comm.

"You and William didn't elope, did you? I mean, that's wonderful if you did, but I wanted to go to your wedding!" Hope said with a pang of envy. She didn't begrudge her friend's happiness, but she longed for a loving relationship, too.

"No. Wedding plans haven't changed. Guess again."

"Just tell me." She loved Pru, but she wasn't in the mood for guessing games.

Krogan had canceled their date. Midday, she'd received a brief hologram. "I'm sorry. I can't come home early after all. I have to deal with something. Don't wait up." In holographic form, he'd appeared drawn and tired, almost defeated. His message had left her disappointed but also worried. What could have happened? After the lovely evening, the kiss, the offer to take her out, she'd been so optimistic about the future, thinking maybe their marriage could become real after all.

But now the relationship had reverted to the way it had been. She'd eaten dinner alone. She didn't doubt an important matter required his attention, but she couldn't help feeling neglected, like she had dropped to the bottom of the priority list.

"Gleezer the geezer got arrested," Prudence announced.

"What!" Disappointment at the canceled date was forgotten.

"Remember I said he'd been meeting with Regional?"

"Yeah…"

Prudence shook her head. " He didn't call in Regional. They sought him out to interrogate him. He's been under scrutiny for a while. They arrested him on charges of misappropriation of public funds, influence-peddling, graft, and nepotism. I've heard the evidence is overwhelming, and they got him dead to rights. He'll go away for a long time. He'll never serve in public office again." She paused. "They arrested about a half dozen of his cronies, too. "

"I'm stunned. There is some justice in the world after all."

"The wheels of justice turn slowly, but the wheels have reached Gleezer, and they're rolling over him and flattening him like a bug." She chortled gleefully. "People are talking about turning the date of his arrest into an annual village holiday—Justice Day."

"I didn't need to leave after all," Hope said.

"You had no way of knowing how things would turn out. Nobody could have predicted this. We've been living under Gleezer's tyranny and corruption for so long, we assumed it would always be that way. At least now you'll have no worries about coming home in a year. That's still the plan, isn't it?"

"Maybe…not."

"You're staying? I knew you would! You did the deed, didn't you? Bow chicka wow wow," she sang.

"Will you stop with the bow chicka wow wow? Sex doesn't solve everything." Especially if you weren't having any. The kisses they'd shared had curled her toes, and she'd thought for sure last night's kiss would lead to more, but then it didn't.

And he'd canceled their date.

"What are you saying?" her friend asked .

"I like him." She liked him a lot . "I'm open to making the marriage permanent if it works out. But I've known him for less than two weeks—it's too soon to see the future." She forced a joke. "Besides, as Gleezer's arrest proves, I'm a terrible prognosticator. I never saw that coming."

Prudence giggled. "Nobody did. But it proves miracles do happen."

She and Prudence said their goodbyes, and Hope settled on the sofa in the living room. Night was falling, but the day had been overcast and gray, so there was no colorful sunset to watch, just a darkening of the sky.

She would try to wait up. He'd told her not to, but she needed to see him, even if only for a few minutes.

She'd gone from optimistic to discouraged, but she wasn't giving up. Not yet. She was falling in love with him. But could he love her? He had warned at the start, theirs would be a temporary marriage. But then, last night, he'd said he desired to be a good husband to her. Why would he say that if he wasn't developing feelings for her?

They had chemistry. He'd kissed her, and she could tell he'd been aroused. He had praised her people skills, thanked her for helping him at the reception. However, mutual attraction and respect, while meaningful and necessary, weren't the same as love.

Could love grow from that? Or were the odds too high against them?

The demands on him were far greater than what an ordinary man faced. He couldn't ignore his responsibilities. Their canceled date had given her a glimpse of what to expect if she stayed. Good intentions followed by broken promises. Rinse. Repeat.

Intellectually she understood, but emotionally? No. Being last on someone's list triggered her insecurities and fears of abandonment.

She didn't doubt important matters had claimed his attention.

But when am I going to be important?

* * * *

Hope woke up with a start when something brushed her cheek.

Krogan was leaning over her.

She blinked. "What time is it?"

"Midnight."

"You're just getting home?"

He nodded. "I told you not to wait up. "

"Since I fell asleep, I didn't exactly wait up, did I?" she quipped.

His smile didn't reach his tired eyes. He appeared more drained than he had in the hologram message.

"Did you have dinner?" she asked.

"An aide brought me something at the office. You eat dinner?"

"Don Juan made something." Another solo supper.

"I'm sorry about tonight," he said, his voice subdued. His manner and bearing seemed muted. His skin and the silvery scales along his hairline had grayed. His shoulders hunched.

"It's all right. I understand." She did, but she didn't. He was still standing. She patted the sofa. "Have a seat."

"It's late," he said but sank onto the sofa, almost like he collapsed. "How did your day go? Anything interesting happen?"

"I spoke to my friend Prudence. Mayor Gleezer—the man who was trying to force me to marry him—got arrested for political corruption."

"So, he's no longer a threat to you?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"He's no longer a threat to anybody. "

He nodded. Just sat there, hands slack on his knees, shoulders slumped.

She studied him. "Are you all right?"

For a long moment, he didn't answer, then he glanced at her with haunted eyes. "Fifty occupied stasis pods failed today," he said, his voice a monotone. "Manufacturer defect."

"What about the women inside them?" she asked, alarmed. "They're all right, aren't they?"

He shook his head. "No. I spent the day contacting their families. I couldn't let them receive an impersonal notification from the pod facility."

Oh my god. "Krogan…I'm so sorry." She hugged him. For a moment, he remained stiff, but then he relaxed against her and buried his face against her neck. "I'm so sorry." She rubbed his back and rocked. "So sorry."

While he'd been dealing with a tragedy, she'd been wallowing in self-pity that he'd broken their date. She felt ashamed of herself.

Her heart ached for the families, for the women who'd passed from the world, but also for her husband. She could not imagine what it must have been like to face fifty people, one after another, and tell them their wives, daughters, mothers, sisters had died .

He lifted his head, and she turned hers. Their eyes met. For the first time, his emotions were laid bare. The pain in his eyes tore at her heart. It wasn't that he didn't care—just the opposite. He cared too deeply.

"What if I can't fix this?" he whispered.

"You will. I know you will," she murmured. "I have the utmost faith in you." He would find a cure for the nano-virus, and he would save his people from extinction because he wouldn't rest until he'd accomplished both. She stared into his bleak eyes and then brushed her lips against his in comfort.

His mouth locked on hers in a searing, desperate kiss. His lips crushed hers, and his tongue plundered her mouth. Rough, hard hands gripped her hair, tangling in the strands, and she felt the pull against her scalp.

She moaned and surrendered, kissing him back ferociously. She tugged the tie around his ponytail, releasing his hair from its binding, and wove her fingers through the thick, silken mass. He dragged his mouth from her lips to her throat. Her neck arched.

He roamed his hands over her body, smoothing down her back, stroking her shoulders, cupping her breasts. Her nipples hardened against his palms. Another searing kiss burned her mouth .

"I need you. I intended to give you more time, but I need you. Don't turn me away."

She peered into his deep-blue eyes. The pain was still there, but so was heated desire and an entreaty she was powerless to resist. "I need you, too. I won't turn you away," she whispered. Her pulse raced.

With a growl, he scooped her off the sofa and strode down the hall toward his bedroom.

They entered, and the room lit up with a glow as soft as candlelight, enabling her to see the huge pedestal bed facing the floor-to-ceiling window. No stars shined through the clouded night sky, creating a wall of black cocooning the room in intimacy. She'd seen his room before—had peeked inside—but hadn't seen it like this, like the stage had been set.

Her body slid against his, brushing against a serious hard-on as he set her on her feet beside the bed. He cupped her face and kissed her and then began to disrobe. His jacket dropped to the floor, his shirt puddling on top of it, revealing a muscular expanse of smooth azure skin. A band of silver scales cut a diagonal swath from collarbone to hip.

Her heart hammered, her body flushing with desire and trace embarrassment, but she followed suit, pulling her short-sleeved lavender dress over her head then removing the thin sheath she wore as an undergarment. Panties came off, and she stood there naked, except for her shoes. With a self-deprecating twist of her mouth, she slipped them off.

His gaze burning with intensity, all traces of pain gone, he stood there as naked as she. His thick erection jutted out over heavy balls the same azure hue as the rest of him. Talk about blue balls. She bit her lip to stifle a nervous giggle.

Humor evaporated when he captured her in his arms and pressed his lips to hers. His skin was smooth and hot, his erection hard against her flesh. He guided her to the bed, and they lay down, the soft silky bedcovers a sensual caress against her bare back.

He loomed over her, his soft, tender gaze causing her heart to hitch. "I've dreamed of you like this."

"I was afraid you didn't want me."

"I'm so sorry I gave you that impression—"

She touched his lips with a fingertip. "No apology needed." She trailed her finger over the silvery scales along his hairline. No longer dull, they brightened even more under her touch. "Is there a name for these?" She explored the band across his chest and watched with fascination as it took on an iridescent gleam.

"They're called gliteri. "

"Do your gliteri have a function other than being pretty?"

He hesitated, his face turning a deeper blue, the scales gleaming brighter. "They, um, reveal intensity of emotion."

He was pretty much lit up like a Christmas tree. She smiled, pulled his head down, and kissed him.

With a groan, he assumed command, exploring her mouth and eliciting fluttery sensations she felt clear down to her womb and her pussy. He roamed his hands everywhere, cupping her aching breasts, stroking her tummy, squeezing the rounded cheeks of her ass, and delving into her wet center to find and stroke her clit. She arched against his hand, her head falling back with abandon.

Determined to give as much as she received, she explored the hard planes of his chest, enjoying his groans of pleasure when she skipped her fingers over the gliteri on his torso. Sexually sensitive, too, she thought.

His cock fascinated her, so hard, thick, and blue . She gripped his shaft and pumped, watching as a drop of dark-blue precum pearled at the meatus, then couldn't resist scooting down and taking him in her mouth. He held her head as she laved and sucked his cock. If he realized it was her first blow job, well, there was no indication from his tortured exhortations.

His hips rocked, and, with a groan, he pulled her away, caressing her with frantic hands. His mouth plundered hers. His fingers dipped deep into her pussy. He nudged her thighs apart, slipped between her legs, and entered her.

She sucked in a breath at the pleasurable fullness and stretch, shifting slightly to lock her heels against his tight buttocks, urging him to move. With a plunge and swivel, he thrust inside, teasing tender tissues and the bundle of nerves at the apex. She hugged his neck, rubbed her face against his cheek, inhaling his scent, absorbing his essence. His exotic, heady musk smelled like spice and sex. Tension and heat combined, the friction creating fire. She felt like a coiled spring, tethered to him but stretching out, farther and farther, about to snap.

And then she did. With a cry, she came with great shuddering gasps, her pussy contracting around his thrusting cock. The muscles of Krogan's face grew taut, his silvery scales glowing bright, and, with a bellow, he climaxed. His cock pumped out his essence, filling her, seeping into her being, and somehow, touching off another orgasm that sent her flying higher .

Like a feather falling from the sky, she drifted back to conscious reality, to the here and now, but it was a new reality, one in which he held her close, stroked her hair, and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. "My sweet Hope," he murmured. "Wife of mine."

Her heart swelled at the tenderness in his voice. "Husband of mine," she whispered back. She fought to stay awake to savor the aftermath, but her eyelids felt so heavy, her body so replete and languid, and it was so very late. She drifted off to sleep.