One
“Are you pregnant?”
“Excuse me?” Samantha Grey leaned across the desk, thinking she must have misunderstood the question.
“Are you pregnant or are you planning to become pregnant in the next solar year?”
This was shaping up to be the strangest job interview Sammi had ever had.
“That’s a pretty personal question, don’t you think?” she asked, frowning.
“Spare me your human opinions and answer my query, please.”
Commander Roark was cold—ice cold, Sammi thought, looking at the large Kindred sitting across from her.
He was also on the cutting edge of fertility technology and she really needed this job.
“No,” she said unwillingly. “I’m not, uh, pregnant.”
“That’s not good enough,” Commander Roark said flatly.
“What? But you said—”
“If you take this job, I will need you to take precautions in order not to become pregnant,” he interrupted.
“But that’s sexist!” Sammi protested. “You can’t just order someone not to get pregnant!”
“This is my project and I can order anything I like.” His pale eyes—silvery-white and ringed in black, unlike any eyes Sammi had ever seen before—flashed as he spoke. “But I am not trying to be ‘sexist’—I simply need your full concentration and I need you to be fully available to me at any and all times that I need you. Which leads to my next question—are you mated or planning to become mated or joined in the next year?”
“What—so now you want me to promise not to get married while I’m working for you either?” Sammi couldn’t believe his nerve.
“It would be better if you didn’t.” Commander Roark was obviously unruffled by her indignation. “As I said, I need your complete attention. So if you’re ‘dating’ anyone, as you humans put it, you’ll need to put any joining plans on hold.” He leaned forward, arching one jet black eyebrow at her. “Are you dating anyone, Ms. Grey?”
An image flashed through her mind. A note scrawled in a messy, unfamiliar hand, left on her kitchen counter. Hey, Beautiful, what time should I pick you up for our date tonight?
She remembered the cold feeling of dread that crawled down her spine at the sight of that note, laying there where he must have known she would find it. Remembered thinking, Oh my God, he’s been in my house—in my house!
“Ms. Grey?” Commander Roark’s voice cut through the creepy memory.
“Oh, uh—no,” Sammi said quickly. “No, I’m not planning on getting married. In fact, I’m not even seeing anyone—I’m single right now.”
The minute the words left her mouth, she wanted to smack herself on the head. Why had she put it like that? Like she was looking for a date instead of a job!
But her answer seemed to please Commander Roark. He nodded and almost smiled—an expression that centered more in his pale eyes than his thin but sensual mouth.
“That’s good—very good. I would prefer it if you remained ‘single’ as you put it, at least until this project is done.”
“What project are we talking about?” Sammi asked, frowning. She’d heard rumors of course—word got around the fertility community—but she wanted to have them confirmed by Commander Roark himself.
But he only shook his head.
“All you need to know is that it’s going to revolutionize infertility treatments in the Kindred/human community. You’ll find out more if I decide to take you on.”
Sammi frowned. “And that’s more likely to happen if I promise to stay single?”
“Candidly, yes.” His voice was cool.
“But…you can’t dictate my personal life!” Sammi protested.
“I can and I will, while you’re working for me.” Those pale eyes flashed again. “I told you, Ms. Grey, I will need your full attention. There will be early mornings and late nights. The workload will be vast because there will be only the two of us.”
“Why, though?” Sammi asked. “If I understand correctly, this is a very important project to the Kindred which means the funding should be, if not unlimited, then at least extremely generous. So why not hire more than just one assistant?”
“Because one person is all I can trust!” Roark exclaimed.
He stood up abruptly and started pacing as he ran a hand through his thick, black hair in a gesture of weary frustration.
“I’d rather not even trust one, to be perfectly honest, Ms. Grey, but I need help. The project has grown beyond my ability as a single researcher to do it justice.”
He leaned across the desk, staring at her intently.
“I need an assistant—one who’s willing to be available to me and only me at any time of the day or night. One who can keep her mouth shut and keep focused with laser-like intensity on our ultimate goal—making certain any human female who wants to give birth to a Kindred child is able to have one.”
“That is a very admirable goal,” Sammi admitted. She was a little taken aback by his fiery intensity. He’d seemed like a statue carved of ice through most of the interview and then he just erupted, like some kind of sexy, intense volcano…