Morgan's Return (24 page)

Biel appeared in the corner, a glimpse of ocean visible behind him through what seemed to be a hotel-room window. He'd obviously spent some time at the beach, his usual spaceman's pallor replaced with a tan. His casual shirt and pants fitted that holiday image but he seemed tense, although his expression was deadpan.

"Commander Biel. What brings you to call me on my day off?" Might as well underline the point.

"Morgan Selwood. Or Marion Sefton."

Makasa put his elbow on his desk and fingered his chin. Where was this going? "Yes?"

"She's here." Biel jabbed his finger down at the floor. "Here on Ushas."

His heart bounding, Makasa sagged back in the chair. No. Not possible. She was gone. "She disappeared years ago, out past Calisto's Veil."

"It was her, using the name Marion Stein. Said she was on a secret mission, keeping tabs on a foreign admiral."

Stein. He knew that name. Makasa had his IS check the databases. Marion Stein, an undercover name for Morgan Selwood on a long-forgotten mission that achieved little. And yet the coincidence was… incredible.

"Do you have pictures?"

"They're not good." Biel played a section of hvid, clearly surveillance footage of a bar, a band, dancing. A woman walked across the room. Biel shouted her name and she stopped. Still not a great view of her face but the way she walked, her attitude, her figure all fitted Morgan Selwood.
Oh, Morgan, I'd love to have you back.
But it couldn't be. Could it?

"I called her name and she responded, then told me the undercover story." Biel's eyes asked the question.

Makasa shook his head. "Not for me, no. This admiral?"

Biel's lips stretched in a brief grin. "I looked him up. No match on our systems. He's clearly a bit more than just an admiral to her. I managed a couple of quick shots of them before they disappeared together." He held up a tablet displaying a woman's face.

Makasa's pulse raced again. She'd have to be wearing contacts, which she'd never done in the past, but otherwise, yes, it was possible. He ran a match against Morgan's image on the database. Except for the eyes, ninety-seven percent match. Which was as good as a 'yes' when the image on the database was two years old.

"This admiral?"

Biel held up the tablet again. Dark skinned, dark eyes, glossy black hair cut short at the top and sides, with what seemed to be a ponytail down the back. He looked aristocratic, a military officer, accustomed to being obeyed. Morgan with an admiral? She despised military rank.

Makasa found himself smiling, remembering some of their many exchanges. She'd respected him, even liked him a little but she hadn't trusted him, he knew.

Biel's voice intruded. "I haven't been able to find out anything about him except a name. He's supposed to be from Coromandel, as are the rest of his crew."

"Send me what you have. I'll have it checked. Where is Morgan now?"

"I don't know, Sir. She and the admiral are not in the hotel, although the others are. I put a trace on her skimmer but it isn't registering."

Why did that surprise Biel? "She's a Supertech, covering her trail."

"Yes, Sir. But why?"

Indeed. Why. "I'll have Intel give you the results of investigations. Keep me informed, hmmm?"

"Of course."

Biel disappeared.

Makasa leaned back in the chair and unfastened the top button of his collar, letting his chin spread out. That was better. Questions, questions. Why was she pretending to be someone else? Who was this foreigner she was with? Why were they on Ushas? Did they have anything to do with the rising swell of anti-technology sentiment as seen on Iniciara? Granted, Ushas wasn't totally right wing when it came to technology but the leaders didn't approve of genetic manipulation and their membership of the Coalition was, at best, tenuous. Morgan couldn't possibly be part of the back-to-basics push but her admiral could be. Maybe this foreigner didn't know what she was?

This was getting very strange. Ellen Cruickshank was on her way to Ushas, too, in a state-of-the-art Dainridge Interceptor, no less. Makasa had wondered where she obtained one of those, but according to Chang, the transaction seemed legitimate. In fact, Chang should be reporting back very soon. Why was everybody going to Ushas?

Makasa rubbed both his hands over his face. Come to think of it, that might not be a bad idea. Ushas was Coalition. Perhaps it was time a battleship went to nose around that part of the galaxy.
Maximus
was due to leave on a goodwill cruise tomorrow.

"Connect me with the Minister for Defence," he said to the IS. Maybe he could organise a change of scenery for the ship and go along for the ride himself.

Chapter 21  

M
organ wrinkled her nose. That was the thing about vomit. Even after you cleaned up you could still smell that acid stink. Partridge probably still had bits stuck in the tiny crevices of his suit, or maybe it was in the floor. At least the man didn't look quite so green. The sea gate under the mansion opened easily, flooding the surroundings with light. She eased the sub in under the archway, now fully submerged beneath the water. Fuck. That meant they wouldn't be going back to the hotel tonight. The skimmer wasn't made to be ocean-going.

"Looks like we'll be staying the night," she said to Ravindra. "The tide's still coming in."

He looked as pleased about that prospect as she felt. Still, all in all it had been a good trip. She and Ravindra had worked well together, despite his nervousness. Oh, he hid it well, but they'd been together so long now, she knew his moods better than most. Better even than his late wife, she'd bet.

The sub rose in the canal between the two piers. While the moorings swung into place, Morgan opened the hatch. Ah, a bit of clean air. What a relief.

"Help me with Derryn, will you?" Eastly scrambled up the steps and leaned in, waiting.

Partridge stood on wobbly legs and staggered to the ladder. Ravindra lifted him bodily halfway up and guided him to Eastly, who murmured sweet nothings as they shuffled, arms around each other, to the lift. The admiral stood gazing after them, lips twisted in a look of utmost contempt. Had he finally worked it out? Morgan doubted it. She followed him into the lift with the two men.

"You'll want to stay the night." Partridge still looked pale but his eyes had lost their feverish gleam.

"I thank you for the offer, but I wish to return to the rest of my crew. Will you permit us to borrow your skimmer?" Ravindra shot a look at Morgan that said 'don't argue'.

To be truthful, she'd be happy to return to the hotel.

"Of course. If you're sure?" Partridge waited for the nod. "But you'll stay for dinner, at least? I'm sure you'd like to shower, freshen up?"

The lift slowed and pinged softly, the door sliding aside.

Morgan stared at Ravindra.
Don't you dare say no
. She glanced at Eastly who seemed to be happy with the arrangement.

Ravindra smiled. "A shower and dinner would be welcome."

"Excellent." Beaming, Partridge stepped out of the lift, Eastly hovering beside him like an anxious mother. "I have a spare suite for visitors just down the hall that way." He gestured down the corridor to the right. "Perhaps we could all clean up, then meet for dinner downstairs and talk about what happened?"

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Eastly said.

"Once I've had the medication." Partridge grinned ruefully. "And cleaned myself up, I'll be fine."

"Thanks you," Ravindra said. "Where should we meet for dinner?"

"Downstairs in say, two hours?"

"Two hours."

Ravindra gave a sideways jag that meant 'yes' in Manesai culture. Here, they probably interpreted it as 'if I must'. Never mind. He usually remembered to nod.

Partridge and Eastly headed off in the opposite direction. Ravindra gave them one more glance, then turned to Morgan. "You're happy with this arrangement? We can stay if you wish, but I just feel…"

"Is this your admiral's instinct again?" Morgan laughed when he frowned. "Come on, let's take a look. And have a shower."

"And talk a little." Walking down the hall he almost put an arm around her, but withdrew.

The door to the guest suite opened noiselessly.

"Oh, this'll do." Morgan whirled around on the sea green carpet. A suite indeed. Here, a sitting room with matching chairs and a dresser, through a wide door a huge bed and no doubt a bathroom. Dark blue drapes framed glass doors that led onto a balcony with a view over the sea. The sun rode down the sky behind a gauzy curtain of high level cirrus. Late afternoon. They'd been away longer than she'd realized. No wonder she was hungry.

"It's nice." Ravindra stood with his legs apart, arms folded. "Now talk to me. Tell me about Eastly and Partridge."

Before, Morgan might have been angry with him, but right now all she could do was wonder how he'd missed the obvious. "What about Partridge and Eastly?"

"I thought you were attracted to them. They're… handsome men. Both of them."

He was finding this difficult going, but Morgan didn't help him. Let him suffer.

She mirrored his stance. "What made you think I was attracted to them?"

Ravindra blinked. That was all. Any other man would have telegraphed his discomfort in a more overt way. But not Ashkar Ravindra.

"You seemed to be in a hurry to be rid of me the other day."

Chuckling, she rolled her eyes. The big jealousy trip, yet again. "Yes. You made it pretty obvious you didn't like Partridge and you weren't helping. We needed his cooperation and his sub. Ashkar, Partridge isn't in the least bit interested in me as a woman. Neither is Eastly. You've seen that, surely."

His brows flickered, and he glanced away for a microsecond. "Yes. I noticed that."

Slowly shaking her head, Morgan said, "They're in love with each other."

Ravindra's frown drained away. "What?"

He was such an idiot. "Remember I told you back on
Vidhvansaka
when you first captured me, about homosexual men and women?" Homosexuality didn't happen among the Manesai. Ravindra had been disgusted at the very notion. Sex with another man? How? Or more to the point, why? Morgan saw that same tide of emotion flit across his face.

"I see." He rubbed his fist over his lips. "I've been foolish."

"You have, haven't you?"

His lips twisting in a rueful grin, Ravindra puts his hands on her waist. "See what you reduce me to? A jealous pup." His arms slid around her, drawing her against his chest. She felt his heartbeat, strong and slow. Her arms slid around his neck, her fingers grazing the silver clasp that held his hair. Oh, what this man could do to her. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, sending delicious liquid quivers down to her groin.

His kiss was diffident at first, a tentative brush of her lips. She opened her mouth, inviting him in. His tongue tasted of brandy, probing, exploring. She closed her eyes as the kiss deepened and he pulled her closer, her breasts crushed against his chest, his hardness evident.

He pulled the shirt out of the waistband of her trousers, stoking the fires in her body even more. Leaning back so she could unfasten his shirt, she trailed her fingers over smooth skin rippling with muscle. Oh, she could never get enough of this, never get enough of the way he shivered when she touched him. Groaning softly, he pulled her shirt open, pushed it off her shoulders. Her nipples pointed at him, tight, aching to be touched, sucked, fondled.

Heat coursing through her, she grappled with her belt, pulled off her trousers as he did the same. Drawing her with him, he fell backwards onto the bed. Morgan straddled him, then guided him into her. She moaned as he filled her. This was delicious. She moved her hips on the luscious thickness of his length while he fondled her breasts. His hands moved to cup her buttocks, squeezing gently to match her rhythm.

He closed his eyes, slowed her down. "Tell me what you want." He wanted to prolong it, she knew him so well now.

"From behind."

She dismounted and turned around, her backside raised for him. He plunged into her, smooth as a piston, his strokes long and deep. "Oh, yes, Ashkar," she moaned, pressing back against his pressure. Oh, so good, so unbelievably good. She wiggled against him, aware of his weight, his control. Just a little more, just a little faster. He knew what she wanted as soon as she had the thought. He rammed, hard and fast, and then the dam of desire burst, flooding her emotions so she cried out, while her body bucked. He grasped her thighs, pulling her hard back against him, groaning as he came.

When the spasms finally settled, he drew back and sat on the bed, panting. She rolled over onto her back and laid a hand on his thigh. "Nice."

"Always." He turned and brushed a kiss on her lips. "There's no one else but you. There never will be."

Her eyes filled. "You're the only man I'll ever love. You'll never, never need to be jealous. No-one else meant anything to me."

Smiling he nodded. "All in the past, all over. So when we get back home, you'll marry me?"

Oh, fuck. Not that again. "I love you. We can talk about what happens next when we get back home."