LOGAN (The Innerworld Affairs Series, Book 5) (33 page)

Hers.
He certainly hadn't forced himself on her. In fact, she was fairly sure that at one point, she forced herself on him. She was also quite positive that she wasn't drugged in any way.

Unless a flood of hormones produced due to a biological anomaly within her body could be called being drugged.

Would Logan believe that, without her explaining everything about who she was? She didn't think so. She could only hope he'd assume she'd surrendered to her desire for him. Realistically, the chances of his accepting that were nearly as low.

There was the very slim possibility that the gripping fever was a one-time thing... brought on by stress or the alien environment.

First of all, she was at least a decade past the age when the Noronian mating fever should have been triggered by her soul's mate.

Secondly, the fever should only be triggered by another Noronian.

But Romulus's fever was triggered by Aster, a Terran who simply had a mere trace of Noronian ancestry.

Thirdly, both people experience the symptoms simultaneously.

Not in the case of Aster and Romulus. It had been determined that her symptoms were delayed due to her not being pure Noronian.

And finally, the two people are supposed to feel the magnetic pull between them at first sight. She and Logan could barely tolerate each other.

But her initial reaction to him was that there was something different about Logan, something very special.

Could he have felt it also, without understanding what it meant? Could that have been why he'd told her he loved her so quickly?

If that were the case...

Tarla's analysis was cut off as the bathroom door opened and, through the steam, Tarla saw Logan toweling dry his hair. Her breath quickened at the sight of his incredible body. She forgave herself for that reaction, acknowledging that she wouldn't be much of a woman if she didn't appreciate the beauty of his masculine form. That in itself wasn't definitive proof that they were soulmates.

She tried not to think about what that body felt like pressed against hers. Her hands still remembered the texture of his skin, his hair, the hardness of his muscles. Her lips were still tender from his kisses. The true test was yet to come. Would the fever rise again without provocation?

Logan stepped out of the bathroom with the same sort of apprehension he'd often had upon approaching enemy territory—tense, anxious, afraid but going forward anyway. He saw the way Tarla was watching him, as though she had never wanted a man as much as him and, before last night, his heart would have soared. But this morning, that look struck fear in his gut.

He also noticed how comfortable she seemed with the sheet barely covering her hips. Yesterday, had he seen her like that, he would have been across the room in a heartbeat. But not this morning. Not after what he'd seen. If he needed more proof it was right in front of him. The Tarla he knew, the
real
Tarla would have had that sheet tucked up around her chin... if not completely over her head.

She smiled softly up at him and patted the bed. "We need to talk."

He eyed the spot she was patting and remembered how that hand had painfully clamped around his shaft with the power of a vise. "I, uh, think we need to just get going. Remember, work starts today and we need to have some breakfast." To prove his point, he hurriedly sorted through the boxes of clothing that had been delivered yesterday, chose a caftan for her and one of the pants sets for himself. Since the conference room was on the same floor as their apartment, he assumed that attire would be acceptable.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "And I think today will go a lot more smoothly if you and I aren't trying to avoid each other."

Logan recalled his naive idea that if he serviced her well enough, she'd be anxious to share her bed with him again in the future. It had never occurred to him that he wouldn't
want
to repeat the service.

"Do I have to command you?" Tarla said with a smirk. "I thought last night got us past playing the mistress-servant thing in private."

Without meeting her gaze, Logan quickly dressed and headed for the kitchen. She was right behind him, wrapped in the sheet a few seconds later.

"What's going on, Logan? Are you angry with me? Did I fall asleep before you were finished? I realize I may have come on a little stronger than—"

"A
little
stronger?" Logan barked back at her. "I've got bruises to prove that's an understatement. You want to know what's going on with me? I'll be glad to share my feelings with Tarla... if she's still in there. Or did I finally meet the real Tarla? The one who's obviously a freaking
alien
!"

Tarla's mouth opened and shut twice before she could speak aloud. "You know? How? Robin doesn't even know."

Logan started to respond then just shook his head in disbelief and started pulling things out to make breakfast.

"Logan," Tarla pleaded as she reached for his arm.

He jerked away before she could make contact.

This certainly wasn't the way she imagined this conversation would go but now it was imperative she give him a believable explanation quickly, before they were expected to appear in the conference room.

"Please sit down, Logan." Her gentle voice only got her a snort. He obviously thought she was dangerous, so she used the most authoritative tone she was capable of. "I will explain and you
will
listen. If you find it impossible to accept what I have to say, you will at least keep it to yourself and behave normally in front of the others. If you cannot do that, I will... let's just say I have ways of forcing you to comply."

He tried staring her down and using his lethal glare against her, but a moment later he sat down at the kitchen table.

"Very good," Tarla said. "Now, tell me how you know I'm an alien, and a
freaking
one at that."

He sighed, ran his fingers through his hair and shifted on the chair before he finally spoke. "I didn't really know for sure. Until you confirmed it. I just thought maybe your mind was taken over by one of the sex-craved Heart women, like Nadia. Or that you were some sort of shapeshifter pretending to be Tarla Yan."

"I suppose we should thank Higgs for those imaginative possibilities. But I still want to know why you thought I wasn't the same Tarla you've known."

He took another moment to respond then shrugged submissively. "First clue? You wanted sex. With me. Not just accepting, like you were when we were in the tack room. You were hungry for it. And then there was your super-human strength. And your body temperature went so high I felt like I was handling burning coals. But the worst was how your eyes changed. The whites turned blood red. It just kept getting worse until you had the big-O with me deep inside you. I think those were pretty good clues.

"But you should know, if you were trying to use my sperm to breed, I didn't come. And it would be a waste of your time to try again. I had a vasectomy years ago."

For the moment, Tarla dismissed his nonsense about using him to breed. She could barely breathe after hearing the details of what she'd done. Her memory of those final minutes was completely clouded. "And then I passed out," she murmured. "I assume the symptoms all went away seconds later."

He frowned. "Yeah, completely. What do you mean
symptoms
?"

Tarla finally sat down across from him. She really had no choice but to tell him everything. "Please understand, my position prohibits me from sharing the truth with any Outerworld Terran, which is what you are to me, but considering where we are, I don't suppose the regulations are applicable anymore."

A half hour later, she had managed to give him a very condensed version of her life story, including the most important facts about Innerworld. She also told him a little about the Noronian mating fever, saying it might have been the cause of her disturbing symptoms, without revealing that it could mean they were soulmates. She would hold that back until she was absolutely certain.

Logan remained quiet throughout, not asking a single question. Unfortunately, she had the feeling he hadn't heard most of what she'd told him.

"Do you believe me?" Tarla asked.

He shrugged. "What's it matter? There's no way to prove or disprove anything you have to say."

"There might be a way," she said reluctantly. "But you'd have to trust me."

He arched one eyebrow. "Seriously? Okay, let's say I trust you. What's your proof?"

"Remember your migraine and the massage I gave you?" She got another brow arch for that stupid question. "When I pressed your temples with my fingers, I accidentally touched your mind. I didn't mean to, and I locked most of it away without prying, I swear. But I saw you being beaten by men of your unit and I suddenly knew you were innocent!"

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "You can crawl around inside my head anytime you want? And I can't even tell you're doing it?
That's
proof that you're a good alien instead of an evil one?"

"Oh no, no, no!" she said quickly. "I'm trying to tell you that if I can do that and know the truth about you, I can open the path the other way and let you look around in my mind. That way you'll know—"

"
Screw that!
" Logan spat out and lurched up from the table. "I don't want to know what's inside that head of yours. And I definitely don't want any more
touching
from you... for any reason!"

Too upset to eat, Tarla left Logan in the kitchen while she headed for the bathroom to get ready for their first day at work. A half hour later, she was physically, if not emotionally, ready to go.

"Is there anything you'd like to ask me before we walk out this door?" Tarla asked. When he just looked away, she said, "Fine. Hate me. Distrust me. Whatever. Just keep our problems locked inside this apartment. If the others know we aren't coping, this whole thing could fall apart. And we could end up back on the farm with no memory of anything better."

They barely had a few minutes to exchange greetings with the others before Parisia, Brianne and Iris arrived.

"I hope you are all comfortably settled into your apartments," Parisia said pleasantly. "Because we are most anxious to begin. I thought we should take this morning to orient you, commencing with a history lesson so that you might understand our sudden need for a defense system. However, I must first ask you each to take an oath of confidentiality. We believe it would be extremely detrimental to our cause if certain people learned every detail of what we are doing here."

As soon as the group of Earthlings agreed to maintain total secrecy, Parisia launched into the legend about the early days of Heart and led up to the recent rumors about the Velids once again being on the warpath.

Iris delivered the second speech. "From our previous conversations, it is clear that Heart's technology has progressed beyond Earth's, but is not as advanced as some other civilizations we have encountered. For instance, we are able to travel through space, but not at faster-than-light speed, nor are our ships equipped with weaponry of any kind. Our scientists have learned to harness the energy of the sun and the power of laserlight, and have discovered how to utilize magnetic energy in a variety of ways, such as transportation and health care."

Iris explained that the specifics about their technology and that of other cultures could be accessed through the computers in the room. Brianne would remain with them at all times to guide them through the data systems and supply any other assistance they might need.

Tarla got the distinct impression that Brianne would also be staying with them in the role of watchdog.

Iris concluded her segment with a statement that everyone was relieved to hear. "We do not expect you to singlehandedly build weapons or convert our spacecraft into vehicles of war. If you formulate a viable plan based on the technology available, we will provide you with the means and staff to create it."

Tarla felt Logan staring at her and, with little more than a glance in his direction, guessed at what he was thinking. Again, she politely raised her hand before speaking. "As you are aware, our men are more familiar with waging war than we women are. With all due respect to your laws and traditions, it would be much more efficient if you would allow the men to address questions to you directly."

Parisia and Iris glanced at each other, then Parisia said, "Of course. That would be reasonable under the circumstances. As long as they remember to resume a submissive nature outside of this room."

For several hours, both the men and women of Earth posed questions and Parisia and Iris took turns answering as well as they could. Regarding information they didn't know, Brianne made notes to help them research it later.

One thing was very clear. The Heart men couldn't, and the Heart women wouldn't, perform any violent or aggressive act, even in defense of their homes. If an enemy was coming, it would have to be dealt with before it had a chance to land on the planet, and in such a way that a woman would not be expected to do much more than push a button to activate an automated system.

When all the basics had been covered, Parisia made a suggestion that raised Tarla's spirits. "Since several of you are nurses, I believe you might find our advancements in health care interesting. I could take you on a tour of the sanatorium this afternoon. I'm afraid the men will not be able to accompany us, however. While we're at the sanatorium, my son, Jason, will be taking the men on a trip to the market and other places they should become familiar with."