Chapter 16

Lorelai

I stopped at an intersection where two corridors met, trying to figure out which way to go. All of the hallways looked the same, and when I'd fled the Overlord's suite, I'd been so out of my head that I hadn't been paying a lick of attention to which direction I was going. I bit my lower lip, considering.

"I think it's left," I murmured out loud. "That feels right."

"Are you searching for the Overlord's room?"

The unexpected voice made me start. I spun, my gaze dropping onto a female flight attendant.

"Oh," I said. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear you come up behind me."

Her lips stretched into a thin smile. "The mats shield the sound of footsteps," she replied. Then, "Were you seeking the Overlord's room?" she repeated.

Would she direct me in the right way if I told her I was? I'd gotten the very strong sense last night that she had the hots for Ellax. In a way, I couldn't blame her. He was ridiculously beautiful.

"Yes," I finally replied. What did it matter if she gave me wrong directions? More walking time to think and to stretch my legs.

"I will take you there," she said, and peeled off to the right.

I hesitated only a moment or two, then threw caution to the wind and decided to follow. My instincts were probably wrong anyway. I'd never had a good sense of direction.

"So, I guess you heard what happened last night, huh?"

I shocked myself by blurting out the inquiry and starting a conversation with her. I didn't know why. Desperation for someone to talk to? Trying to find clarity and figure out the best way out of this mess?

She nodded tightly. "I did. The news is all over the ship."

Great.

The one night I blow off steam and get drunk, and it results in a scandal everybody knows about.

"I suppose I understand the attraction."

"What?" The attendant's statement came out the blue, surprising me.

"I said, I suppose I understand the attraction," she repeated. "Overlord Pendorgrin has quite the history of bedding human females when Drixus had them available."

I couldn't help wrinkling my nose at hearing that.

Great. Just like my ex.

"It does not surprise me that he would bed you, although you are older than the females he typically beds."

I rolled my eyes.

Right. I'm old.

As best I could tell, the Overlord and I were probably pretty close to the same age. Apparently, like my former husband, he liked his women much younger.

She motioned with her hand, directing me to turn with her down another corridor that looked exactly the same as the last one. Had I really come this far when I'd stormed off? How anyone found their way around this place was amazing to me.

"I'd hoped to bed him myself," she then admitted.

I glanced sideways at her, taken aback. I wasn't surprised at all that she'd wanted to sleep with my—well, with my husband. However, I was quite surprised to hear her admit it out loud. Especially now that the Overlord and I were technically married.

"I'm sorry?" I didn't know what else to say. What did you say to someone who'd admitted they wanted to sleep with your husband. At least she didn't beat around the truth, lie, dissemble, or deceive.

"Oh, it may still happen," she laughed lightly.

Okay. That made me bristle.

"Perhaps not," she concluded. "Truthfully, I only wanted to test the rumors about him."

"What rumors?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Does he have some sort of weird abnormality when his clothes are off?"

Her head dropped back as she laughed merrily, all four of her eyes twinkling with humor.

"Not that," she replied, "unless you count a male Asterion alleged to be very skilled at pleasuring his bedmate an abnormality."

"Um. Wow."

Why had my face grown hot? It wasn't like I was a teenager or a virgin. However, the very idea invoked mental images I had a hard time shaking. Especially when compared to Charlie, who'd always seemed like a pretty lazy lover, even though I'd tried to be a loyal wife and convince myself differently.

"It's probably a rumor he made up about himself," I joked, with a nervous chuckle. "To convince more women to sleep with him."

The flight attendant motioned us around yet another corner, while simultaneously turning her head to give me an imperious look.

"You mean you do not know yet?"

"I, um…"

No? Nope, I'd married him, but I hadn't slept with him?

What the hell had I been thinking? What had he been thinking? I couldn't understand how we'd done something so stupid. What conversation had led to it after we'd awakened in the middle of the night and started drinking again? What had pierced our drink-fogged brains with the notion that this was a good idea on any level?

I could only surmise it must have been some sort of talk about our respective plights. Me, divorced and alone, trying to rebuild my life at almost forty years old. Him, needing an heir.

I guess the alcohol made us decide to help one another out. Really wish someone sane had been around to talk us out of it, though.

Whatever my escort thought of my reluctant, stammering answer, she didn't say. She drew to a halt, lifting her arm in its crisp green uniform and pointed down the corridor branching off to the left.

"Down there, first door to the right," she announced.

I took a breath, steeling myself for the inevitable moment I'd have to face my alien husband again.

"Thank you," I said. I took the time to look her in the face. "I mean it. Thank you."

Her double eyes blinked—all four of them. Maybe she hadn't expected kindness from me, like I hadn't necessarily expected it from her. Possibly she was just doing her job, which included rounding up strays like me and guiding them home. On the other hand, if I was going to be a diplomat's wife, the least I could do was show good manners.

She nodded and veered off. As I watched her walk away, the seed of an idea implanted itself. Took root.

A diplomat's wife. I do have experience with that. I have something I can bring to the table besides my womb. I can use that to my advantage. I simply have to make this work for myself.

I stopped where the flight attendant had left me, at the intersection of two corridors, staring fiercely at the blank grey wall in front of me while my mind whirled, churning through options. Good thing nobody bypassed me at that particular moment. They'd have seen a human woman with mussed hair and the slightly rumpled slacks and blouse from the night before, gazing sternly at the distant wall for several long moments until a grim smile broke across her mouth.

They'd have wondered if I was crazy.

I wondered that too.

I probably was crazy.

But it was either be crazy or go crazy.

Decision made, I walked on, fortifying myself with every footstep.

He's every bit as trapped as you are, I reminded myself. He's got the wealth, power, and prestige, yet we're both trapped by the same arrangement. Don't be afraid of him. Don't cower. Don't bend. Don't fold. He needs you like you need him.

Stopping outside the door, I braced myself, twitching my shoulders back, trying to affect a dignified stance. One that said, I may be stuck with you, but you haven't defeated me. I'm figuring my own way out. I've got this.

I knocked on the door.

Within moments, I heard the echo of footsteps, then the cabin door slid back, revealing the beautiful Overlord standing on the other side. I wasn't sure what I expected to see from him. Anger? Hostility? Irritation that I'd run off?

Whatever I'd anticipated, it wasn't a frown between his dark brows and a set to his jaw that spoke of anxiety. It wasn't to hear him say, with a note of concern in his voice, "Where were you?"