Page 90 of Hot Zone

Twenty-Two

Rustam watched warily as Tessa leaped to her feet, nearly hitting her head on the ceiling. She subsided back onto the edge of the bed, sick shock written in every line of her face.

He understood the reasons for his federation’s standing order to kill humans like her, but in this case, he couldn’t possibly obey it. Either way, he owed her an explanation.

He sighed and tried to make her understand. “The Centaurian Federation controls star travel throughout the galaxy. We’re the only race that consistently produces star navigators, and we need to keep it that way if we’re to maintain our position and wealth. When races like yours show a latent talent, we send agents to eliminate those members of the race who carry the star navigator gene. And my dear, without a shadow of a doubt, you have that gene.”

Even if he hadn’t heard her thoughts, he would have been able to read them in the expressions crossing her mobile face. After all we’ve shared? After all we’ve been through together? And it comes down to this?

Aloud, she said, “You made love to me. You made me your consort and gave me your baby. And now you’re going to kill me?”

He exhaled hard, once again between a rock and a hard place. “My duty is to eliminate you from the human gene pool. But do you really expect me to kill you?” He burst out, “I love you, curse it!”

Some of the rigidity left her shoulders. “I love you, too,” she murmured.

He opened his arms and she came to him willingly, plastering herself against him. He loved the feel of her in his arms, loved the tingle of her aura mingling with his. Loved her feistiness, her independence, her intelligence. Hell, he loved everything about her.

If not him, some other Centaurian would most certainly kill her. Especially now that Hippoclides—whom he was sure was Kentar in disguise—knew that she existed.

Desperation coursed through him, the same emotion emanating from Tessa. Why couldn’t everyone just leave the two of them alone? They were terrific together, race and politics and military missions aside.

“What are we going to do?” she whispered against his neck.

He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to hear the words or say the words. He tilted his chin down to kiss her, desperate to stop the inevitable from coming: words of loss and parting.

As always, the moment their lips touched, the magic was there, building between them, larger than either of them, larger than the sum of their individual powers. He plunged his hands into her hair, holding her still for his tongue to plunder her mouth, drinking in her sweetness and tartness and everything that made her special and unique.

“Gods, I can’t get enough of you,” he groaned against her lips.

She laughed ruefully. “I know the feeling.” She wiggled against him, and his body leaped to attention, ready and eager to make love to her. She came to him once more, kissing him voraciously, as if she would devour him whole.

This might be the last time they ever got to do this, and the urgency of it stole his breath away. In response to that thought, she wailed inside his head, echoing his own sentiment exactly. This can’t be the last time!

But what else could they do? He rolled over, drawing her beneath him, pressing her deep into the soft feather tick, following her down into that place that was theirs alone, a place of darkness and starry skies and a towering passion that dared him to even breathe.

He sucked at her lower lip while she nipped at his. Their tongues wrestled in a wet, slippery swirl that sent his lust surging out of control. Her hands skimmed down his torso, gripping his male flesh and about making him jump out of his skin.

“I want you,” she panted hoarsely. “Now.”

He didn’t hesitate. He followed his instinct to make this woman his completely, to brand her forever his, a part of him for all time. He shoved her clothes up. A quick bunching of his own toga, a hard thrust, and her hot, slick flesh encased him fully. Her gasp of pleasure was a spear straight to his heart.

She was his.

His woman. His partner. His love.

She bucked beneath him, wild in her desperation to take even more of him into her. Their desire galloping away with them, he rode her hard, their bodies straining together, riding a wave of passion that swept them up with its power.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

Her feverish eyes opened, and she smiled up at him, every ounce of her love and need for him glowing in shades of violet within her azure gaze. She gripped his shoulders strongly, her nails digging into his flesh. He plowed her harder and deeper, relishing the cries he wrung from her throat, the way she arched as taut as a bow beneath him as ever more intense pleasure built between them.

At the moment of their explosive release, he looked deep into her soul, his own heart completely naked before her. She drank him in, taking everything he was into herself and giving him all she was in return. In that moment, they were one. One spirit. One soul.

And then, as usual, the deep, profound silence of space enshrouded them, as calm and protective as a blanket wrapped gently around them.

Why can’t we stay in this place forever?she sent him.

We would die eventually. Our physical bodies need nourishment. It is from those that our power to come to this place springs.

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