“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to sound genuinely contrite. “I wasn’t trying to pry, I was just exploring.”
“I know,” he said. “I watched you from the cockpit.”
She stilled. It hadn’t occurred to her that he had video access to the ship, but of course he did. It only made sense.
“I suppose you have my room bugged, too?” she asked softly.
“Yes,” he replied, turning to walk out of the small library. She followed, unsure of herself. She didn’t really want to be near him, but she didn’t like the idea of him watching her from afar, either.
“I’m going to fix us some dinner,” he said. “Do you have any preferences?”
She gave a nervous laugh, and then nodded her head. When in doubt, make a joke. It always worked on her bar customers. She wracked her brain, coming up with the most exotic dish she could imagine.
“I don’t suppose you have roasted kvana with Beloni herbs?”
He smiled, and the tension between them broke.
“Naturally,” he said. “I’ve just gotten back from the Emperor’s summer palace on Beloni, where we hunted kvana .”
She smiled back at him, feeling more comfortable now that the tension was broken.
“I don’t suppose you have some of his Imperial Majesty’s private reserve wine to go with it, then?”
“Well, naturally,” he said. “What well-equipped smuggler doesn’t?”
For the first time since she’d met him, he seemed almost playful. The hard façade had dropped, at least for the moment, leaving behind a surprising nice looking man. Even his scar seemed less menacing.
“So, are you going to prepare this wonderful meal for me?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “You may be surprised to discover this, but I’m actually quite a cook.”
“Forgive me if I’m doubtful,” she replied pertly. “You just don’t seem like the cooking type to me.”
“Well, you don’t really know me very well, do you?” he replied. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I’ll get started on dinner.”
* * * * *
He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she saw dinner. He didn’t allow himself to consider why he cared so much. Moving efficiently, he placed a last few sprinkles of fresh herbs over the glazed kvana , then placed both warm plates in the stasis box. The first course was already prepared—thin slices of toasted bread topped with grilled Gnoscan mushrooms in a light vinaigrette sauce, and still-crisp steamed vegetables. A meal fit for an emperor, he thought wryly.
He poured wine into two gracefully sculpted crystal goblets, carrying them over to the small table. Things were almost perfect. He brought over the plates with the grilled mushrooms and arranged them, and then spoke quietly to the ship’s computer.
“Jenna, please turn on the dining program.”
Instantly the utilitarian colors of the walls shifted. Light, lovely patterns reminiscent of natural wood appeared on the walls, and a window seemed to open along the table. The view was of a tropical garden, swirling with colors. A soft chirping filled the room. This garden always seemed to soothe him.
He hoped it would work for Giselle. He didn’t like the tension between them. However badly they’d started out, it was time to make peace. There was no need for their time together to be unpleasant.
“Dinner is served,” he said as he walked out into the main room. She looked up from the vid she was watching, and smiled at him. She must have taken a shower, because she seemed to glow at him with health and cleanliness. Her face was bare of the dreadful cosmetics, and the freckles dotting her nose made her appear charmingly youthful, although he knew she was a woman grown. She wore one of the simple jumpsuits he’d purchased for her on the station. Plain as it was, it still showed her figure to advantage.
“Dinner is ready,” he said. “Would you care to join me?”
She wrinkled her nose at him and asked, “Do I have a choice?”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “You do. But I really hope you choose to eat with me, because I put considerable work into preparing dinner.”
She laughed, and then shook her head. Her wild riot of reddish curls bounced, then she stood up.
“Then I would be honored to join you,” she said.
He let her walk before him into the room, savoring the small sigh of appreciation she gave when she saw what he’d done.
“Jerred, this is amazing,” she said slowly, turning to face him. “It’s just like some kind of fancy restaurant!”
“Well, I figured that if we were going to eat the Emperor’s kvana , we should do it right. Of course, I don’t have servants to wash our hands for us, and I’ll have to bring out each course…”
She burst out laughing again, and sat down. He sat across from her, watching her face as she took a sip of the wine. Her eyes closed and she moaned in appreciation.
“What is this?” she muttered. “I’ve never tasted anything like it. It’s amazing.”
“It’s the Emperor’s private reserve,” he said. Her eyes opened, and she wrinkled her nose at him.
“It’s good, but it isn’t that good,” she said.
“Really?” he asked, lifting his glass and taking a sip for himself. His taste buds were overwhelmed with a symphony of tastes. It stole across him like a ray of moonlight, and he almost felt the coolness of an evening breeze along an ocean. The taste was rich and full, and as it matured in his mouth he could feel sparkles of sensation washing down along his spine. His loins tightened in response, and he felt himself harden slightly. He opened his eyes.
“I think you should take another sip,” he said, meeting her gaze. “It really is good.”
She took another sip, and her eyes closed again.
She didn’t moan this time, but a becomingly pink flush stole across her face, and her breath quickened.
“Okay, it is pretty good,” she sad, opening her eyes and giving him a sheepish look. “What is this stuff, anyway? It’s not like any wine I’ve ever tasted.”
“I told you,” he said softly. “It’s the Emperor’s private reserve. It’s made by a group of monks sworn to the Goddess, and the last five hundred years they’ve only produced a thousand bottles a year. The emperor has first bid on it, of course. Some say it’s an aphrodisiac.”
“So how did you get it?” she demanded.