They spent a lazy day together. He snooped through her reader. He thought she had excellent taste until, predictably, he found Scarlet Sails.
“It’s an abominable book,” he told her.
She smiled. “I like it.”
He opened his mouth to argue but she put her fingers on his lips. “I don’t require you to like it. Only to accept that I’m different from you.”
Later, after they made love in her bed, and she lay next to him, her head resting on his biceps, she said, “Tell me about your lovers.”
“They were many and unremarkable,” he said. “None of them were like you.”
“How am I different?”
“If I lie, will you know?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps, that’s your answer.”
Her knuckles punched his ribs and he laughed.
“Cheater.”
“Men don’t speak of things like this.”
She turned on her elbow and put her head on his chest. “Tell me.”
“You set me on fire,” he told her. “While you poured me that soup in the kitchen, I had to fight not to lunge across the table and kiss your mouth. But I’ve felt that way before, sometimes with women who were merely passing acquaintances. I feel comfortable with you. I know it sounds pedestrian, yet it makes you priceless to me. Being with you is effortless.”
“Is that so?” she asked softly.
“You’re so like me. Sharp, smart, and practical. And so unlike me. I’m a cold ruthless bastard and you are warm and happy. And soft.” He trailed his hands down the curve of her breast. “And lovely.” He teased her nipple. “Enchanting. Alluring…”
“You don’t say…”
He kissed her and whispered into her ear. “And all mine.”
“Not all,” she told him and left the bed.
“What of your lovers?” he asked her later when they sat in the garden sipping pink wine he had brought. “How many did you have before me?”
“I’ve had a few.”
“Too many.”
“How do you know?”
“More than zero is too many.”
She laughed.
“Tell me about them.”
“There were two. The first was a much older man. I was twenty-one and he was almost forty. I had chosen him very carefully. He was very kind and he was going off planet in a few days. I wanted my first time to be special and worry free.”
“Was it?”
“It was pleasant. He was skilled, but I was self-conscious and we lacked passion.”
“What about the other man?”
“He was a wanted criminal. I thought he was a dashing rogue.” She sipped her wine. “We were together for almost a year. You know a part of me. He also knew a part of me, the part I no longer want to be.”
A sharp spike of jealousy pierced Celino’s chest.
“Your eyes are frosting over,” she noted.
“What part of you did he know that I don’t?”
“The part I will keep to myself for now. You don’t need to worry, Celino. The man is dead. He proved himself to be just what I thought he was—a rogue—and his greed got him killed.”
She sat there, frowning.
“What’s bothering you?” he asked.
“You.” She glanced at him. “You make me feel happy. I like being with you.”
“Why does that worry you?”
“I’m afraid I might disappear.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.” She nodded. “One day.”
He would uncover all her secrets, sooner or later, he promised himself. He only needed patience and time.
They made love in every corner of the house. They spoke of books and ate the food she made. She surprised him with a keen understanding of finances and he amazed her with his knowledge of dahlias. He secretly ordered a necklace of blood onyx that cost more than the latest luxury aerial. He had it delivered to the house, but she refused to take it. He cooked for her instead and she was delighted.
He had never met a woman so rich, in her warmth, in her mind, in her vitality. And she had given all of herself to him. He felt blessed.
His bliss lasted for three days. On the fourth, the terra plant in Ogavia exploded.
***
Meli stood before the screen.
“I will be back in twenty-four hours,” he had said. “Wait for me. Please.”
She could still feel his good-bye on her lips.
This was it. This was her chance and she wouldn’t get another. Her instincts told her that once he returned, he would mount a full assault to bring her into his life completely and she was no longer sure she could resist. She was in love with Celino Carvanna.
She had to bring it to the brutal conclusion now or forever give up on her revenge. She had promised herself at the start of the mission that she would remain strong and finish it, but she’d grossly underestimated her own heart.
It would be so easy to surrender. To simply let him carry her off, to become his. He would never have to know the truth.
Twelve years, she reminded herself. Twelve years of rejection and quiet pain, of feeling broken as if a vital part of her was lost. Twelve years of controlled anger.
A storm was locked inside her and it was tearing her apart.
She cried and when her sobs exhausted her, she washed her face and once again faced the screen.
You can’t smelt happiness from a lie. She knew him, but he did not know her.
She had to end it.
***
Celino was enraged. The first time Meli had ignored his call, he dismissed it. Perhaps she was in the shower or out at the market. He was in the middle of a smoking ruin awaiting excavation of the reactor and his time was limited to a few precious seconds.
The second time she refused to accept him, he called the man he had left watching her house. The man’s personal unit was set to Do Not Disturb.
Worry shot through him. Ignoring the explanation of the diagnostic engineers, he stole a minute of precious time to queue up the camera he had planted in the garden on his personal unit. The camera captured the door and he saw Meli move past the screen inside. He pinged her again and watched her ignoring his call.
Perhaps his man was inside. Perhaps she had invited him in. Maybe he was in her bed.
His face must’ve turned dark because people around him fell silent. He moved and they scurried out of his way, reading death in his eyes.
An hour later, when he ended the investigation and entered his aerial, he saw a notification of a private message. He locked the doors and brought it up. A “recording disabled” warning popped up—the message would play only once. He wouldn’t get a chance to keep it or replay it. “Accept,” he ground out through his teeth.