Ra’as
Back in his rooms, Ra’as tried to focus on the beautiful woman in front of him.
She was pouring out drinks for them, and when she turned around, she would expect his full attention.
For what he was paying for her time, he ought to be keyed in.
But all he could think about was Emilia, and her pretty blushing cheeks.
She’s too young. And she’s your employee, he tried to tell himself.
But his body wasn’t interested in his opinion, it showed him images of him pinning her to the family room wall as he plundered her mouth.
Think of the kids.
Sun gods, but they looked happy tonight. He hadn’t seen Dyrk excited like that in a long time.
Why the hell did he have to have a consort here tonight? All he wanted was to be back there with them, hearing about their day.
He eyed the woman in red, wondering if she would care if he just sent her home now. Then he could go be with the kids and Emilia.
Visions of Emilia filled his head again and he felt a hot surge of desire that reminded him why he was doing this in the first place.
“A credit for your thoughts,” Chancy said coyly, handing him an aged zublian on the rocks so full the rare brew was nearly sloshing over the sides.
“Wow,” he said, taking it carefully.
“Sorry,” she said. “The agency said it had been a while since we’ve had the pleasure of serving you. I thought our visit might call for a celebration.”
Or he might have to be hammered to go through with it. This woman was intuitive. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Yeah, it’s been a while,” he admitted.
“Do you mind if I ask why?” Chancy asked, seating herself opposite him.
She took a delicate sip from her own glass, her pouty lips leaving a greasy sheen of lipstick behind.
“I don’t like the idea of paying for sex,” he admitted.
“It’s perfectly legal,” she reminded him. “And it’s companionship, not just sex.”
He refrained from reminding her that he had chosen her based on a photo, not her conversational skills. That would be unnecessarily rude.
“I know it’s hard on Ulfgard,” she went on thoughtfully. “Most of you are still so young.”
“No so young,” he put in. He was probably older than she was.
“Young enough you need a woman,” she told him with a significant look. “You shouldn’t be ashamed to take what you need. You clearly have a lot of responsibilities here.”
She meant he had money.
“I don’t just mean that you have money,” she said softly, as if reading his mind.
Could Ceruleans do that? He didn’t think so. But he made a mental note to look it up later, and to keep his thoughts to himself until then.
“Your file says that you have two children and a high-pressure job,” she said. “You would deserve some relief no matter what that job paid.”
“Thank you,” he said honestly. “That’s very kind.”