Enslave Me Sweetly (Page 42)

Enslave Me Sweetly (Alien Huntress #2)(42)
Author: Gena Showalter

“Nothing matters but the mission,” I whispered, then said with more force, “Nothing matters but the mission.”

Chapter 16

The next morning my body thrummed with sensual remembrance, mocking my resolve. Sunlight poured past the wispy yellow-and-white curtains as I lay in the bed. For a long while, I soaked up Lucius’s lingering scent and let the softness of the sheets caress me. My skin felt oversensitized, my thighs bruised, and I still emitted the telltale fragrance of honey.

“You’re an agent, Eden Black. Don’t forget again. Last night doesn’t matter. Remember?” I’d give myself the reminder a thousand times if necessary.

Agents who become emotionally involved were easily distracted (case in point) and constantly put their missions at risk. Michael didn’t have a rule against it because he knew the forbidden often became the obsession. Still, we all knew the reality of agent relationships.

I forced myself from the bed. I took Luc for a walk, fed her, then quickly showered in the dry enzyme spray. I strapped on my arsenal and dressed in slim black slacks and a white silk top. Steps clipped, I strode to my laptop, which was perched atop the marble vanity in the sitting area of my bedroom.

As I booted up the blue, jelly-like holoscreen, Luc padded to me and I rubbed her head. A message from Colin popped up within seconds, and I nearly jumped up and down in eagerness as the words crystallized. Finally!

“Sorry for the delay. Was out of town. Small solar flares usually have no effect and are basically undetectable,” I read. “Large solar flares, however, create auroras. At the right angle, these can reach down and create a geomagnetic storm, which can distort the earth’s magnetic field. If that happens, radios, TVs, cell units, airplane communications, basically anything that reacts to magnetism, can be affected. I suppose, in theory, a being or object could be molecularly transported into the belly of another solar flare—ifthey were wearing some sort of magnetic device. To my knowledge, that’s never been done. Does this help, or do you need more? Colin. P.S. Let’s do dinner soon. I miss you.”

A thrill of satisfaction danced through me. I’d been right. My lips curled in a smile. I’d been right! Laughing, I replied, “This helps. Thank you. Can you give me an example of a magnetic device that would work best? Eden. P.S. No dinner. You’re a good friend, but an awful boyfriend.”

A knock sounded at my door.

I quickly shut down my computer and strolled to the thick cherry wood entrance. Strolled? Yes, I had a spring in my step that couldn’t be denied. I couldn’t wait to share this information with Lucius—and win the solar flare competition.

After unscrewing the extra cylinders I’d placed in the lock, I pulled open the door. “Yes?” I said to the woman in front of me. Or rather, to the pure white, deliciously fragrant orchids in front of me. No, not pure white, I realized a moment later. Flecks of gold had been sprinkled on the petals.

“These came for you,” a soft, lyrical voice spoke in halting English.

As I studied the orchids, a very feminine reaction occurred inside me. I melted. My bones literally liquefied, and my muscles turned to mush. Before I took them from her, I removed and read the card.Thank you for last night.

I pressed my lips together to keep from scowling—or smiling, I wasn’t sure which. Way to keep it about the mission, Lucius. Anyone who read the card would think “secret admirer,” but I knew. “Thank you,” I told the woman and claimed the heavy crystal vase. I tried to shut the door with my foot. I’d shut off the automatic sensor.

“Wait,” she said. She was an Agamen. Not attractive by human standards because of the small horns protruding from her skull—horns that produced poison when the Agamen was frightened—but her eyes were a pure, liquid silver and very pretty. “There’s more.”

I placed the flowers on a nearby table and turned back to her. I’d fought only one Agamen over the years. He had rammed me in the stomach, and I spent six weeks recovering from the toxic liquid that invaded my body.

She bent down and hefted another vase, this one stuffed with blood red roses. “These also came for you.”

Again I read the card before taking the flowers.I’m sorry you were upset last night. I hope you’ll give me a chance to make it up to you. Jonathan.

The only reaction I experienced towardthis gift was satisfaction for a job well done. “Thanks,” I said, taking the roses and setting them behind the orchids.

“The ambassador wishes to speak with you in the formal dining area.”

I massaged my neck and stifled a sigh. I’d wanted to call Lucius and tell him what I’d learned. Now there wouldn’t be time. “I need a moment.” Not bothering to shut the door, I rummaged through my bag for the right pair of shoes. Open-toed black heels. My feet immediately screamed in protest, but I strapped the torture devices on anyway. To the Agamen, I said, “Please, lead the way,” speaking in her own language.

She blinked at me in surprise, then smiled slowly, revealing sharp gray teeth. “Come.”

Down the elegant hall and winding stairs we went, the fragrance of coffee growing stronger. I tried not to grimace; I truly hated that smell. I didn’t know how humans could drink coffee. It was so bitter. If I had my way, only sweet-smelling food and drink would be prepared.

Finally we reached our destination, a dining room with an antique cherry wood table, benches instead of chairs, and pictures of sunflowers on the walls. No animal heads. The ambassador sat at the table, which was piled high with food. Her black hair was pulled back in another severe twist, and she wore a severe black pantsuit.

“Sit, sit,” she said when she spotted me, waving to the chair across from her.

I did as she requested. She looked me over and frowned. “Eden, dear, you look tired. Are you still upset about the party?”

“A little,” I lied.

“Well, stop that right now. I told you I spoke with Jonathan, and he assures me he will see to your safety, as well as to Hunter.”

“Thank you. You’ve been wonderful about this whole thing.”

“Speaking of wonderful,” she said. She sniffed the air. “What is that heavenly scent you’re wearing?”

Feeling hot pink circles consume my cheeks, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “I’m, uh, not wearing perfume.”

Her brow puckered in confusion. “You have to be. You smell. In a good way,” she rushed to assure me. “Like honey.”