Chapter 15

Bren stood on the flight deck and stared up at the Warlock, unable to believe what he was seeing at first. But the cabin was closed and Banks had volunteered the information that Pilot Forrester had finally known what was good for her, and had headed for the lifts early that morning. She hadn't yet returned.

"Amazing." He murmured, feeling a surge of satisfaction after a long tiresome day dealing with ground politicians. "She can be trained."

There was a certain temptation to scale the side of the Warlock and search through it, looking for information that Sophia was hiding. He ignored the urge for the moment. He now knew she'd lied to him at least once. What little information that the people at Essex dock had managed to amass about Anatoray showed that Princess Sophia Elen Delgrada Forrester was at a religious retreat and had been for the last year.

That could simply be the current story that was being told to anyone who asked, but Sophia hadn't said that. Instead she'd threatened him and the Silvana. He should have still been angry about that; only a couple of days had passed since she'd dropped it in his lap. But after dealing with the pointless dance of diplomats all day, Bren was disposed to view Sophia's blackmail as more honest.

Once Bren had established that Sophia had gone up to get some sleep, he intended to take the lift to the health deck and work out the aches from standing and sitting all day without any real exercise. But somehow the lift stopped one deck above the flight deck and Bren found himself in front of the door to the only occupied room.

It was a minor running joke on the Silvana that they kept such great guest quarters and no one seemed to want to use them. The truth was that Bren didn't like ferrying people. They were difficult to predict, and had a tendency to accidentally break things, wander into dangerous areas, and frequently entangle the Silvana in the kind of contentious politics that Bren always avoided.

He considered the idea that she might still be asleep, then shrugged and knocked anyway. If she didn't answer, he'd head to the health deck.

The door opened after a moment, and Bren knew exactly why he'd found himself in front of her door. Showered and rested, Sophia looked back at him with the spark back in her brown eyes. She was measuring him and daring him at the same time. Bren's mood lightened further. "Can I come in?" He asked, trying to keep the growl of desire out of his voice.

She raised her eyebrows at his tone, but opened the door wider and let him into the room. He went to the one comfortable chair in the room. Sophia settled herself on the only other chair; the one that had been tucked under the table. "I'd ask if you had fun, but I can see that you didn't. Have you eaten dinner?" She asked casually.

"Mostly I drank it. Someone kept giving me plates of things with tails, and I lost my appetite." He said, relaxing into the chair. "Yes, I know they're just crabs with the shells still on them, but I prefer my food lacking in identifiable parts. I hate docking." He added and let his head fall against the back of the chair, his arms dangling over the chair's stuffed arms.

"Why do you do it, then? Enduring the politicians and the food with identifiable parts?" He listened to the small noises associated with her getting up and pouring the glass of water that she pressed into his hand. "Drink. It's not much, but it's all I've got here."

"Thanks. And I do it for the money. Running the Silvana is just as much of a high-profile job as being mechanic to the future queen of Anatoray was."

"You don't seem the kind of man that would seek out that kind of job." She mused.

Bren opened his eyes and regarded her with a slight smile, "You'd think that, but it works out well. They come to see the Silvana for the spectacle, but they give me the contracts because they know I'm reliable."

"That makes sense." Sophia crossed one arm in front of the other to rub at the stitches along her forearm as she looked at the closed door, "But back to more important matters. You haven't eaten, and you've had to put up with idiots all day."

"Are you inviting me to dinner?" Bren asked.

She glanced down at him, a rueful look in her eyes, "I suppose I am. It's a habit that was drilled into me from acting so many years as an ambassador. I can't stop myself from making sure everyone has food, drink, and comfortable beds."

He gave her a long, deliberate look. There was no mistaking what she'd said. "I'll take you up on the last one." He rose slowly, giving her time to back away, to take back her words, but Sophia stood her ground.

The room was small enough to allow him to reach behind her and put the empty glass on the table without touching her. When he pulled back to look into her face again, she was watching him with an intensity that made his pulse quicken.

"But you should have dinner first." Sophia murmured, her protest about as perfunctory as one could be. When he slid his fingers along her jaw and into her hair, she made a sound of pleasure and swayed into his body without resistance.

"Later." He promised, bending his head to kiss her. When he tasted her mouth, she was passive for only a surprised instant before she seemed to go up in flames. She grabbed his arms and raised herself up on her toes to kiss him back, demanding more. The kiss went from seductive to aggressive in a heartbeat as they fought each other for control. Bren finally won by tilting her head back and breaking the frenzied kiss.