Page 33 of Signed, Sealed, Seduced
Something flickers across her expression—uncertainty, perhaps, or some emotion I cannot name. Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the rest of the chamber seems to fade away.
“Yeah, well. Professional courtesy.” She shrugs, but there’s something in her gaze that suggests it’s more than that. “Can’t have people saying OOPS couriers don’t care about customer satisfaction.”
It is a deflection, transparent and unnecessary. We both know her actions go far beyond professional obligation. The fact that she chooses to minimize her sacrifice makes it more significant, not less.
“The trap must be reconfigured,” I announce, turning to Krev but remaining acutely aware of Suki’s presence beside me. “Isolate the quantum resonance field. Prepare a false data package for transmission. Let our enemies receive specifications that will lead them to their doom, not our defenses.”
Krev nods sharply, already moving to implement the new strategy. “Time frame?”
“Two hours,” I decide. “The modifications should not take longer than that.”
“And the courier?” Vex’ra asks, her gaze shifting between Suki and me with barely concealed calculation.
I look at Suki, who meets my gaze with that direct honesty that never fails to affect me. “She will remain in the command center during the operation. Her insight may prove valuable.”
“I can help with the recalibration,” Suki offers, stepping closer to the tactical display. “I understand the quantum resonance patterns better than anyone here, and I know how the beacon’s transmission protocols work.”
The offer is logical, practical. Yet something in her tone suggests it’s more than technical expertise driving her desire to help. The way she looks at me, the subtle tension in her posture,the barely perceptible lean in my direction—all of it speaks to something deeper than professional obligation.
“Very well,” I agree, though I’m not entirely certain my acceptance is based on tactical necessity. “You will assist with the modifications.”
As my warriors disperse to their tasks, I find myself alone with Suki beside the strategy table. The beacon sits between us, but it no longer seems the most significant thing in the room.
“Why?” I ask, the question emerging before I can consider its implications.
She looks up at me, those hazel eyes reflecting the holographic light. “Why what?”
“Why stay? Why warn us? Your ship is repaired. Your obligation is fulfilled. You could have departed.”
For a moment, she doesn’t answer. Then she moves closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from her smaller form, can detect the subtle scent that is uniquely hers.
“Because,” she says quietly, “leaving things broken isn’t who I am. And this would have broken something important.”
The admission hangs between us, honest and unguarded. I find myself moving closer as well, drawn by her presence in ways that have nothing to do with tactical considerations.
“Something important,” I repeat, my voice rougher than intended.
Her eyes meet mine, and I see awareness there—of the space between us, of the way my presence affects her breathing, of the tension that has nothing to do with the beacon or external threats.
“Yes,” she says simply. “Something important.”
The moment stretches, charged with possibilities neither of us has acknowledged. Then the sound of approaching footsteps breaks the spell, and she steps back, her professional mask sliding back into place.
But not before I catch the flush that colors her cheeks, the way her pulse flutters at the base of her throat, the subtle catch in her breathing that speaks to her awareness of me as more than just a commanding officer.
“The modifications,” she says, her voice slightly breathless. “We should begin.”
“Yes,” I agree, though my focus remains fixed on her face rather than the technical requirements ahead. “We should.”
As we turn to the tactical display, I realize that this operation has become about more than catching enemies or protecting the fortress. It has become about proving to myself—and perhaps to her—that some things are worth fighting for.
Some things are worth the risk of hoping.
The beacon’s threat will be neutralized. Our enemies will be caught in their own trap. But the real victory, I’m beginning to understand, may be something else entirely.
It may be the chance to discover what “something important” becomes when two people choose to fight for it together.
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