Page 92 of Tempting Cargo
I couldn’t ask Coerril to do it. I’d drop her on a pod orbiting Orkri. I’d tell Anandri there’d been a hitch, in case I couldn’t come back and get her.
Decision made, I went to the storage locker and found one more blanket hiding at the back of the empty shelves, tossing it on the sofa before returning to my quarters.
I found Garrison as I usually did these days, in bed, facing the wall. I rubbed my chest, knowing I owed him an apology for kicking him out with everyone else when all he’d done was try to look after me.
Maddening male.
Once I’d finished in the convi, I slid under the sheets and lay on my back, staring at the dim light in the ceiling. “Thank you for the chrya.”
He shifted slightly. “You’re welcome. Did it help?”
“A little.”
I wished he’d roll over and rest his head on my chest, or roll me over and make me the small spoon, but he didn’t move, didn’t put anything into the silence and space between us.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“It’s fine.”
It didn’t sound fine. He sounded sad. And cross. And I hated even more that I was the cause.
As my hand connected with his shoulder, it was as though I’d pushed words out of him.
“It’s torture, being here with you like this, but not being able to be with you.”
My ribcage felt too tight around my lungs, but I concentrated on his warm body next to mine, his skin under my fingers. “Andyou think I don’t feel that way too?” I trailed a hand over his stomach. “We can fuck, if you like.”
I told myself I could do with the release, and that was why I was offering. Not that my body wasn’t skittering with awareness and arousal every time I was near him. Not that I’d rolled over to hold him without even thinking about it. Not that I wantedhimto holdme.
His muscles tensed, his body shifting almost imperceptibly away from me. “I’m not talking about sex, Sho.”
Then what are you talking about?The words tarried in my mouth, but I bit them back. I didn’t want to have this conversation, not when I couldn’t give an answer, not when I wasn’t allowed tohavean answer to the question he wanted to ask.
My ragged breath brushed his neck, and he shivered. Gods, I wanted him so much it hurt.
He didn’t speak, and I had to fill the silence with something. “I’m trying.”Please be patient.
“I know.” The resignation in his voice cut through me. “You’ve been very clear.”
“Have I?” I was clear before everything had changed. “We’ve not spoken since before Vadias.”
Since he’d stayed in my life. Since we’d had a fragile hope.
“We’re speaking now, Sho.” He didn’t sound like himself. Or rather, not the version of him he used to be with me. This was the voice he used with Tokki or Daiytak when he was training. Focused. Business-like. No nonsense.
Stern.
Detached.
Gods, I wanted to attach myself to him and never let him go.
“There’s something I haven’t told you, Garrison. And I should have.” I didn’t dare look at him. “It is rare for Orithians because most enter arranged marriages, but kri’ith do notmerely fall in love. If we do, when we fall in love so deeply that someone gets under our spines and into our bones, it creates a soulbond that can only be severed by death.” No use going into the rumours the fates were involved. I believed in that ulthshit as much as I did the gods.
I ignored his low gasp, the tension of his muscles under my hand, and continued in a whisper. “To be bonded to one and mated to another would be soul-rending agony.”
A tiny insect skittered across a light panel, and I watched its path, seemingly random yet serving a purpose. “I thought I was safe with you, that such a bond couldn’t form with a human, but you’re the most dangerous cargo I’ve ever carried. You bring my bones to life, and I’m terrified.”
When he finally spoke, his voice was hard. “I wish you’d trusted me enough to tell me.”
