Chosen by the Senator (Under Alien Law Book 3)

“You’ve filled a hole in my life.” She held her breath, wondering how he might interpret what she’d said.

If shadows represented doubts, he’d cast them aside; his face brightened. “How big a hole?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t think I can appreciate how large until it’s empty. Then, I suspect I’ll wish it wasn’t.”

He understood. She didn’t need to spell it out, whether she said it in English or Vendian, it wouldn’t matter—she was speaking of when she went home.

Chapter Seventeen

Jamen had to read the message three times before its contents sank in. He left his desk and found Paige munching on a sweet wafer while tapping away at her console. Standing in the doorway, he halted. She glanced up and raised her eyebrows.

“The emperor has summoned me for an audience.”

She swallowed a mouthful with audible gulp. “When?”

“In two days.” He leaned on the door. “I wrote a request for a censure following Rasser’s assault on you and he wants me to explain in person. With you.”

“Me?” Her eyes widened and she dropped the remaining morsel of food she was eating. “But… why?”

“He’s curious, I expect.”

She pulled a face. “I have to go?”

A refusal would be unconscionable. “Yes.” He crossed the room and by the time he reached her desk, she was up and burrowing her nose into his chest.

“I’m scared,” she mumbled. “What if… I’m not what he expects?”

He chuckled, surprised by her anxiety. “He is not a monster. He has several daughters. I’m sure he won’t eat you.”

She huffed. “I don’t mean that. I mean, what if he thinks I should be this elegant diplomat with all the right words and—”

“Be yourself. You’re the best representation of a human I know. So be it.” He spoke truthfully. Paige exemplified what he’d come to respect about humans, especially their females.

* * *

Over the next two days, she tried out a multitude of clothing, rejecting one, then another, until Jamen picked out an ankle-length dress with strapping around the waist and sleeves to the elbow.

“It looks a little medieval,” she said, swiveling on the spot.

Her hair flowed like fluid around her face as she spun and the bodice narrowed her waist, lifting her bosom and her two neatly packaged breasts. He sighed gently, admiring her figure and what lay hidden beneath the sheen of the fabric. Dismissing the need in his loins, he assured her it was appropriate.

“You look very pretty, but respectable too.” He picked out a lightweight cloak for her to drape around her shoulders. He

didn’t want her to look too desirable. If she tempted the emperor, what could he do to stop him? He buried the worry deep inside, because it hadn’t happened in years, not since the emperor had fathered his sons.

Jamen wore the garb of his clan, which exposed the tattoo on his chest and the muscles of his arms, while the cladding around his legs emphasized his stature. For the first time since she’d met him, he looked like a warrior, almost barbaric and her cheeks flushed brightly as she batted her eyelashes.

“Later,” he said, catching her meaning.

The palace of the emperor was by the sea on the cliffs overlooking the horizon. With the ancient part of the city banished behind high walls, three stone towers rose as high as a modern skyscraper. On the outside the structure was old and reliant on force shields to keep it protected from the heat and dry air. On the inside, it reflected both the past and the present with its contemporary decorations.

As he and Paige passed through numerous security checks, her gasps grew louder. He held her hand and squeezed it a few times when her feet began to drag and her curiosity delayed them. The emperor was a stickler for time keeping.

“This is amazing,” she whispered, aware of how the stone magnified their voices along the long corridors that crisscrossed the palace.

Their escort, one of the palace guards, kept glancing behind and staring at Paige’s hair, which she’d coiled into a tidy nest on the top of her head. It reminded Jamen of a golden crown. She’d painted her face and eyelashes with color, insisting it was traditional on Earth to hide any blemishes. He guessed she felt insecure on the inside, because as far as he was concerned, she always looked beautiful.

“Say nothing,” he reminded her. “You bow low, but you don’t have to kneel unless he asks you to approach him.”