Page 20 of Tail, Dark and Handsome: Celestial Mates
Her face was flat, and her nose was just wrong. Too small and too thin. Her complexion was an interesting shade of gray. Her hair, eyes, lips, and any other feature of note was also an uninspired gray. Finding it easier to focus on her flaws, he noted the mud that clung to her feet and legs. Water dripped from her hair and garment, puddling onto the floor.
“You are contaminating my home,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow. “No more than you. Nice ship, by the way.”
“So you saw that,” he said. The ship, not large as space-going vessels were concerned, but not small, either, had been parked next to the house. Winter did not see the point in paying a docking fee when he already paid for the old farmstead, which offered plenty of room for a fleet of ships. Then he added a reluctant, “Thank you,” because manners.
“It looks like a custom build. All shiny and new.” She waited for a reply. She’d have a long wait as Winter had no intention of sharing how his cousin, Chase, gifted the custom-designed ship to Winter. “Is it a Bando?”
“No, it is not.” He removed his muddy shoes at the door and indicated she should do the same.
“Oh, must be CayneTech then,” she said, bending to remove her sandals. He did not stare at the way the rain made the fabric of her garment sheer or the way it clung to her ass, because he had manners. She continued, sensing nothing amiss, “Is the engine the same model or is that custom as well? Did CayneTech fix the stabilizers or is takeoff still bumpy? You know, the stabilizers would be a nonissue if they hadn’t cheaped out on the parts. That alloy just can’t take the stress.”
“You may use the cleansing room,” he said, debating whether to take her to the shared facility or give her the unused bedroom. The storm would last all day, and there was no safe way down the mountain until the storm broke. This was a much better use of his faculties than commenting on the disappointing stabilizers. Chase had tried several other denser alloys. Unfortunately, those always led to complications in the landing gear and ultimately compromised the integrity of the ship.
The guest room, he decided, leading her up the stairs to the second floor. Then, he failed at restraint and said, “That alloy is lightweight and durable enough if the pilot has a modicum of skill to avoid bouncing off a planet.”
“Pilots do like to make the ships bounce,” she said, sounding amused and not at all registering that she insulted his cousin’s design, their family’s company, and his personal ship.
She scanned the room, then poked her head into the cleansing room. “Wow. This is a lot fancier than I was expecting. You never know with old buildings. And a machine to clean my clothes. Excellent.” She poked at the buttons on the cleansing unit built under the counter. It could clean and dry her garments while she showered.
“Hot water is on demand. Use as much as you like,” he said, leaving her.
In the private cleansing room attached to his room, he tried not to think about the droplets of rain that clung to her eyelashes. Physical attraction meant nothing, yet he hadn’t experienced the pull of it in so long. Not since Rebel vanished.
No, he corrected himself, before then.
Winter let the water wash away the grime and the tension in his shoulders. He had better things to worry about, like the stranger in his house.
She had to be a corporate spy. She recognized the ship, even though the model was not yet available for the public. Yes, that accounted for why she was upset he left the malfunctioning bot behind. Even broken tech had secrets a competitor could use.
Which company sent her? Space String? Bando?
He grumbled. Bando. They had a long record of poaching CayneTech’s top researchers. Despite patents and non-compete contracts, Bando always seemed to have a similar product a few months after CayneTech, at a fraction of the cost.
Hurriedly, he dried himself, determined not to let the female wander the house unsupervised. Bad enough that Chase sent him reports every day about the company’s falling stock prices, lost contracts, and unflattering product reviews from dissatisfied customers. If Chase discovered that Winter let a spy wander through his home, he’d never hear the end of it. Winter did his part, systematically testing the projects Chase sent him, and Chase worried about the market and the shareholders. That was their arrangement.
On paper, both males were equal holders of CayneTech stock. Chase was the executive chairman and Winter head of research and development. A family business. In practice, Chase was the one at the CayneTech facility day in and day out. He had the board’s support and enough shares that he remained in control of the company in all aspects. Fine by Winter. He did not like people. Anyone, really, and his cousin was especially good at irritating him. They worked best separately.
Winter traveled where he pleased—often where Zero’s whim took them—and worked remotely. It was one of the few privileges his wealth bought him. The family fortune had brought only unwanted attention and trouble, so he was inclined to take advantage of this benefit.
Chase always tried to send staff along with his latest project. The staff never lasted. Winter normally sent them back to Chase with a cart of malfunctioning parts. In short order, Chase sent a new shipment of toys to test and new personnel.
He did not have time for Chase to repair the machine or send a replacement. Their stay on the planet was coming to a close. Zero wanted to stay for a meteor shower, but they needed to head to Corra soon after if they were to arrive in time for the new academic year.
Winter found Zero in the lounge that stretched along the back of the house. The shutters were retracted, offering an unobstructed view of the storm outside. The sky had turned dark, despite the midday hour. The clouds seemed to hang lower, crowding around the mountain as wind lashed the building. The rain beat a constant cacophony, the sound penetrating through the structure.
His kit lay on his back, arms behind his head. His tail swayed, keeping time with the rain.
“Is it okay if I watch the storm?” Zero asked.
“Yes. I will be in the kitchen,” he said, pleased at his kit’s thoughtfulness.
“Uncle Chase will be upset with you. This is the second machine you ruined.”
“I did not. It malfunctioned. Prototypes malfunction. I’m doing Chase a service by finding all these flaws.”
Zero snorted, his ears fluttering with unvoiced laughter.
