Page 31 of Healing the Leonid Doctor's Heart
They stared, silent and wide-eyed.
“I didn’t think you wanted to go back to the credit exchange, Abi,” he said, voice light and casual, trying not to tell her what else he thought. He thought that this would give her a career on the ship, one that didn’t depend on her body’s ability to bear cubs. One that would let her work by his side on something meaningful, one that would give her a place on the crew and keep her with Kaylie and Nessa, who had become her fast friends.
That he wanted her to be in his life.
That he was afraid he’d done all of this wrong.
“Well... I’m interested. I don’t have a job, and I don’t want to go back to Sapien-Three. I don’t have much in the way of training—”
“If you can read applications and sort vital statistics, and maybe help give us some insight about where to target our search for potential surrogates, that’s all you need to do. I don’t have training, either,” Marcus admitted. “This is a new field, something that was never possible before, so none of these questions were asked before. Plus, the entire physical component...” He was a doctor, a medical man, and part ofhaving good bedside manner meant not being embarrassed about simple, natural body functions like reproduction. Yet suddenly, he felt his blood running hot. “Felid males tend to become possessive of their mates—that is, the Queens they mate with. I think the past generation or two were becoming more liberated, but then this virus happened, Bastet smite it, and then Queens were in short supply.”
Abigail’s voice had a hard edge to it, one he had rarely heard. “Yes, I see. Supply and demand. The Felids tend to cling to whatever’s available in terms of female mates, that’s what you’re saying?”
Oh. Shit. Marcus swallowed, “I meant that it is a possibility. Being intimate with someone and bringing a child into the world together could cause a surrogate and parent to bond. We shouldn’t take human Queens who already have mates. It could cause problems. Our first trials will not include married or mated Felids, either,” he hastened to explain.
Kaylie gave Abigail a confused look. “Okay, not to play matchmaker or anything, but I think that’s a plus. Most of the single women on Sapien-Three who would consider this kind of job would think it was a bonus to get off of a heavily polluted planet with limited chances for having your own family, your own house, your own anything, really, and into a marriage with a financially well-off Felid who could afford to treat them like a beloved treasure. I mean, they call them Queens, for eff’s sake.” Kaylie slapped her finger onto the screen and scribbled. “I accept. You’d better accept, too, Abi. I’m the assistant to the assistant, and that’s you, big sis. Weren’t you saying it would be a wonderful gift to help Felids rebuild their race? This is your chance to do it!”
Abigail’s eyes met his. They didn’t show their usual warmth. “You’re right. I don’t have a lot of options, and this seems like a good one.” Her finger scrawled on the screen. “I accept.”
Marcus plastered a smile on his face. “Excellent! I’ve already prepared some notes. I’ll send them to you, and we can have our first official team meeting tomorrow. I have a meeting scheduled with the funding chair at the Leonid Interplanetary Institutes of Health this morning. Abi, did you still want to pop back in later for that screening we discussed?”
“I’ll let you know, Marcus. Thanks.” Abigail rose. “Well, Kaylie. This is good news. Contract offers way better than we’d ever get on Sapien-Three. Let’s go tell Nessa and Kamau. Maybe we can get a shot ofbordeto celebrate?”
Marcus deflated as they waved goodbye and left.
What the hell just happened? The woman he was falling in love with, the woman he had literally bred last night—well, as near to it as he could get—had just given him an icy smile and waved off his questions about beginning her injections.
He needed to find her. Talk to her. Explain.
His screen chirped. Incoming Call.
Right after this meeting, because without this meeting—hundreds of other families might not receive the help they needed to have a cub and rebuild their galaxy’s population.
Because between Abigail and the rest of the world... He wanted to choose Abigail, but she’d want him to pick everyone else—and that’s why he wanted to make her his Queen.
Chapter Eight
Did he choose me because I was all that was available? He couldn’t wait. What if he’s barred from his own trials once they’re official? I feel like that’s something that would happen, what with ensuring the accuracy of a study.
Abigail left Kaylie perched on Jaxson’s toolbox as he and Lycen cleaned out a bay and checked the docking procedures. The ship was about to get busy, wasn’t it? In a few cycles, anyway.
She walked into her own room with her lips pressed into a thin line, thoughts racing. There will be new candidates. Young candidates, beautiful ones, accomplished ones, ones with larger breasts and more experience in bed.
She sat down abruptly on the edge of her bed, head in her hands as if she could squeeze her brain into submission.
She didn’t know if Marcus would want a different woman, or if he even wanted her at this moment.
He’d offered her a position on this new medical team. He knew she wanted to help the Felid people. Did he think her help would be limited to office work? Had he suddenly decided she was unlikely to have his child or anyone’s child?
Am I a failure, and now he’s humoring me?
Was I just a convenient option?
Think of something else. Look at the notes. You have a job, you’re earning credits, you can start to build your own life, repay Rupex in some fashion for housing you and feeding you.
Abi opened her personal computer and swiped open the files Marcus had sent. The first file was a list of qualifications he thought the surrogacy program applicants should have,including a blood test with clear hormonal markers indicating they were fertile, a series of health screenings, and...
“They should be between 20 and 32 years of age.” Abigail crashed back onto her bed, sprawling in despair. She closed her eyes, her chest aching. She was over a decade out of the “desirable” range. If she’d applied for the program, she wouldn’t have been accepted.
