Page 20 of Pulled By the Tail
The crowd fell silent. Talen stepped away from Quil, who rubbed his ear with a frown.
The older woman took Georgia by the hand. “You must be tired. Let’s get you settled into your room, put something warm in your belly, and we can sort everything out in the morning.”
“Sounds good,” Georgia said, finding herself nodding. She suspected that woman’s soothing, motherly tones would make her agree to any suggestion.
“Talen, put this young female in the room next to yours. I’ll send up a tray.” The older woman turned her attention to Quil. “And you. Is this how you behave in front of guests? Get out of my sight before I decide you’re not too big to take over my knee.”
To his credit, Quil’s tail went limp and he looked ashamed.
Talen grabbed her bags and escorted her into the house. The foyer had a grand entrance with an elegantly tiled floor and a vaulted ceiling painted to resemble the night sky. Leafy potted plants softened the space, as did the obvious age and wear of the building. They went down the hall, up a staircase, and around several corners. Georgia paid little mind to their route, knowing she would be turned around in the morning, but instead noticed the thin tread on the carpet and the cracks in the plaster walls. The further they drifted from the public part of the house; the more obvious the building’s age became.
She wondered if the house even had a central computer to manage daily functions and utilities. She had never lived in a place without a computer to schedule cleaning bots or wake her every morning. Asking if the house was as primitive as she suspected would make her seem spoiled, so she kept her mouth shut. Manually setting her own alarm wouldn’t kill her.
“Here.” Talen opened a heavy wooden door and stood to one side.
The room was gorgeous, and she wasn't just saying that because she spent the last six months in ship berths and tiny space station hotel rooms. Spacious, the plaster and timber room were painted a mellow white that suggested age, despite the scent of fresh paint. Soothing tones of blue and a complementary gray dominated the decor while a heavy four-poster bed crowded the room. Opposite the bed was a window with three intersecting half-circles. A padded window seat, perfect for reading, was tucked under the window. The interior wall held a fireplace, already crackling merrily, shaped with a circular arc that mimicked the windows. A comfortable-looking high-backed chair sat by the fire, next to a delicate side table. A large armoire and vanity flanked the bed.
The room had two doors, facing each other.
While she explored, Talen held himself in a rigid stance with his arms behind his back that screamed military.
Georgia opened one of two doors, discovering the cleansing room. Across the room, the other door revealed another bedroom suite, decorated in darker greens and browns.
Talen cleaned his throat. “I apologize. Our rooms are connected. I never questioned why Quil was so keen to finish this one, but now I know.”
“The paint’s barely dry,” she said.
“It’s had a few days to dry but I laid the carpet this morning.”
“No, what I mean is that he’s known about me for six months and you had to rush to finish my room. Oh,” she said, suddenly realizing. “This wasn’t my original room. I assume Fiona has a connecting room with Quil.”
Talen’s ears lay flat, betraying his embarrassment. “The door locks—between our rooms. I won’t disturb you.” She made no quick response and the moment stretched out between them. He cleared his throat again. “Would you like a bath? Something to eat or drink?”
“I don’t think I have the appetite.”
As if on cue, a knock sounded at the open door. A Gyer male, copper in his complexion, carried a tray laden with a bowl of soup, a thick slice of bread, and a steaming mug of tea. He set it at the small side table by the fire and left without saying a word.
The aroma of fresh-baked bread made her stomach rumble. Talen’s lips tugged up at the corners and his tail swayed behind him.
“Maybe a little something to eat,” she admitted.
From her vantage at the table, she spied a large soaking tub in the cleansing room and temptation briefly raised its head. Washing off the stale funk of the ship from her face and body sounded good, but she was tired. With her luck, she’d fall asleep in the tub and drown.
Talen left her to finish her meal and returned with the rest of her bags. She felt guilty having him cart them all the way through the maze of the house when she wasn’t staying.
She left Earth on good faith that the agency had found her a perfect match. Within the first ten minutes, she got the measure of Quil Achaval and found him severely wanting. Fiona could keep him. She wasn’t interested in a cheat and a liar. Had he changed his mind, why not tell her and save her the journey? He was thoughtless and selfish and inconsiderate and so much more that it made her heart hurt.
No, wait. That’s heartburn.
With a frown, Georgia rubbed her chest. She only ever got heartburn when she was stressed. She dashed off a short message to Freema, basically saying that she arrived, and her heart got stomped. More to follow.
“Do you need anything else?” Talen asked, standing by her luggage.
“I think I just need to lie down for a bit.” Her emotions went from excitement to confusion and humiliation, followed by disappointment, frustration and, inexplicably, attraction.
“We’ll talk in the morning. If you need anything, I’m on the other side of the door,” Talen said, casting one long look at her. As his eyes swept over her, she felt the heat in his gaze. A blush rose to her cheeks, but he left before she could say anything more.
She washed her face in the bathroom and brushed her teeth. When she returned to the bedroom, a housecat-sized creature nestled on a pillow atop the bed. It had iridescent blue and green feathers with a long tail but no wings.
