Page 40 of Zalis
He wanted many things: genuine affection for his mate, to stay near her, and to see her smile again. Sharing any of these points could be construed as manipulative.
He acknowledged this and said, “I want a love match. I want my mate to have a tender regard for me. As such, I will endeavor to court you until this is true.”
“Oh, that’s—” She went pale, then a ruddy pink. Curious.
“Most of all, I want what makes you feel safe, wherever that may be.”
The tension in her shoulders relaxed and her complexion returned to its normal shade. “That’s sweet, but you can’t make someone fall in love with you.”
“I will endeavor nonetheless.”
She traced a path through the poorly drawn star chart, her finger dragging along the surface. “If I have to stay in a warzone, I’d rather stay with you.”
“On Val Mori,” he said for clarification.
“Wherever you go.”
That pleased him. Very much.
“But we need some rules,” she said.
“Yes. That is prudent.”
“First rule, this is temporary,” she said. “At least until I can get back to Earth.”
That did not please him, but he agreed. “Very well, but I will win your affection.”
“Give it your best shot, buddy. I’m romance-resistant.” She rose inelegantly to her feet, glass in hand.
“You are to rest and stay off your feet,” Zalis said, grabbing the glass. “I will refill your beverage.”
She surrendered the cup and sat back down. “Okay, second rule. Don’t treat me like I’m broken.”
“Your ankleisfractured.”
She made a dismissive noise. “This isn’t about the ankle. All day long, people have treated me like I’m super fragile.”
“You—”
“I’m regular fragile,” she said, speaking over him. “I just want to feel like me again and I can’t when everyone is super extra gentle with me.”
“I believe I understand.” He had never broken a bone or suffered an injury that did not improve with a night’s sleep, but he understood the feeling of being treated differently. He handed her the refilled cup. “You do not wish to be treated differently because of your abduction and captivity.”
“Yes! No one could even say the words today. It was anexperienceor anincident.”
“Very well. I will endeavor to respect your regular human fragility,” he said. Gemma laughed, which was confusing because he did not jest. “I ask for honesty. Do not withhold information or give half-truths.”
Gemma nodded her head. “Agreed. Honesty is the best policy. We’re expected to share the same cabin, I take it.”
“Yes. I am expected to vacate my previous cabin.” He still needed to pack his belongings. His possessions were not the usual items of clothing, weapons, or sentimental objects. The bulk of what needed to be moved were his half-finished projects and the hundreds of pieces of vintage equipment he’d collected. He calculated the difficulty of preparing such fragile, older objects to prevent damage during a move. The items were older but still useful, often uniquely so.
Perhaps he did have sentimental objects.
“Fine,” Gemma said. “We can be roommates but we have separate bedrooms.”
“Acceptable.” He disliked the notion of separate sleeping arrangements, but he acknowledged her need for her own space.
“About sex?—”
