Alien General's Bride (Brion Brides 3)(27)

Isolde nodded. They’d been in space long enough for her taste. She longed to feel real ground beneath her feet, even if it was Briolina, a planet very hostile towards her.

“In the meanwhile,” Diego continued, “our arrangement,” – Isolde noticed how he refused to call it the lie that it was – “has to be made public to the Galactic union  . They cannot be the last to know, and I would rather not give the senators a chance to serve it up their own way. It would be better if the Brion people knew of it as well before we land.”

This is it. I am the alien bride now. Oh god, I’m gonna be in Terran gossip columns. Thank heavens that I don’t have to bring the son-in-law to dinner. I don’t think my parents would have approved.

“I agree,” Isolde said, nodding. At least this she could be certain about, if not her feelings towards Diego.

They are clear enough, something in her protested.

“I think it’s a good idea,” she went on. “If we have any hope of wiping the Rhea situation under the carpet, the more attention on us, the better. Less on what we do on Rhea and more on us as a couple.”

She saw the general tense and it wasn’t a comfortable thought for her either. As days went by, it was becoming more and more difficult to ignore the burning need inside her. At least she got to retreat to her own rooms after a public performance of the alien newlywed and cool off her raging heart that wanted nothing more than to have Diego bend her over the first horizontal surface and make her scream.#p#分页标题#e#

He was nodding, agreeing with her. “Eleya advised that too. All attention on the inter-species couple, and perhaps the galaxy will let our inner feuds be and not look too closely at Rhea.”

Isolde wanted to roll her eyes very badly. While a larger part of her was concerned about whether Eleya was double-crossing them, a smaller mused, It says something about galactic priorities if this works out. Some things are the same all over the universe. Scandals outshine wars and actual problems.

“So it would be wise if we no longer lived in separate rooms. You have had time to adjust to life on a Brion ship, and as you are my gesha now,” – the pain was audible – “you should move to my quarters.”

No. Nononono. Bad idea. Very bad. So tempting, but – to live in your room? Be around you all the time? We… I… I don’t know if I can resist bear it.

From the look in his eyes, she guessed Diego got most of that. The lines on his face, already hardened by years of war, drew even tighter.

“In private, things will remain the same.”

Isolde didn’t believe him, not for a second. Not because she thought he’d willingly lie to her, but because the part of her that seemed to be more woman than the rest was heating up fast. And if she felt like someone had turned up the heat in the room by considerable measure, she couldn’t even imagine what the general must have been feeling.

She would live in his rooms, see him change if he didn’t take meticulous steps to hide from her sight. She’d get a daily, nightly dose of seeing that to die for body, how his hair looked like wet after he’d showered, feel his maddening presence. But it was what they’d agreed on, after all. Better she get practice on the ship where they could still allow themselves a few minor mistakes than on Briolina, where every set of eyes was bound to be on them.

And so Isolde Fenner the alien bride moved to her new fake alien husband’s rooms.

--

Diego’s quarters were nothing like hers.

That in itself wasn’t very surprising. He was the commander of the ship, after all. For one, his rooms were many, connected by a single greater arena-like area, where he presumably hosted guests important enough to warrant an invitation to the general’s private rooms.

Isolde walked slowly through all of them, mouth wide in shameless surprise. She’d have thought Diego’s rooms to be Spartan, or on the contrary, really lavish like some palace. In truth, they looked like a place where someone lived. Isolde’s room had seemed lifeless to her when she’d first boarded, but had come alive as she spent most of her time there.

Diego’s rooms were filled with things he liked and things he’d won – weapons displays, trophy cloaks, an instrument that made strange music, personal items Isolde steered clear of to not intrude. She wondered what she was – a thing Diego liked or a thing he’d won? At the moment, she wasn’t sure she was either.

The more she saw, the more she was amazed at how… normal it all looked.

Who would have guessed? Diego Grothan is… a person.

A person he could be, but he was also a Brion general. The walls were lined with sharp-edged weapons, some clearly recently used. Isolde didn’t know if she’d imagined it, but some seemed to still vaguely smell of blood, heavier and muskier than a human’s, but still recognizable. There were stuffed beasts that he’d killed. Isolde found herself staring at a huge bear-like but mammoth-sized muscular horror, with teeth like swords.

She didn’t even have to ask. A warrior never mounted anything in their rooms that wasn’t a personal kill or achievement, which meant that at some point in his life, Diego had faced off with the thing that looked like it could swallow Isolde whole with little trouble – and won.

The beast hardly turned her on, but Isolde could no longer deny – in fact, no longer bothered to deny – that she desired him with an almost mindless desperation. She’d read a lot about the Brions in the course of her studies, but she wasn’t willing to rule out that they left quite a few things undisclosed when it came to the binding of which humans had no firsthand experience. Was it like a drug?

Why was every second in his company harder to bear than the one before? Harder to bear when out of his arms, that was. Close to him, his skin against hers, peace came to ease all the torment. Isolde found it increasingly difficult to think around him, or do anything at all but long. She started to forget why she was resisting in the first place.

Remember? All those people they killed. Those cold, heartless bastards. The fact he’d have shot you as well if you weren’t his fated?#p#分页标题#e#

Oh, that. That was all true, but looking around in his rooms forced Isolde to get to know him against her better judgment, and whatever else happened, as they drifted so very close to Briolina now, the only place where Isolde truly felt safe was next to him.

She flinched as he joined her in what looked to be his trophy room, smirking at the huge beast.

“That one did not want to admit defeat,” he said, but the joke sounded dry and forced and the smiles faded soon after.

When the food arrived, they ate and drank in silence. There wasn’t much to say that hadn’t already been said or wouldn’t have bounced off the wall of the same huge unchangeable problem between them.

“Naturally there is only one bed in my quarters,” Diego said stiffly. “Installing another would cause suspicion, and our image is too important for that to be allowed to happen.”

Isolde nearly choked on her food. They’d have to sleep together? She opened her mouth to say something about human men and sleeping on the couch, but the couches they were sitting on were not meant for sleeping, and she guessed Diego Grothan wouldn’t take the comparison to human men well.

Besides, a very guilty part of her didn’t want to say no to the idea. Didn’t want to say no at all.

---

Alright, she was very much drooling. She was pretty close to the point of wanting there to have been a love potion situation going on, because this was getting mighty embarrassing. A completely irrational thought kept nagging at her, whether it was possible that Diego Grothan was putting on a show for her. She doubted it, but that’s how it looked like.

The general had explained seriously, and with a calm so transparent as to let her see the internal turmoil simmering beneath as clear as day, that Isolde sharing his bed was a good idea and for the lack of another bed, unavoidable. He’d then pointed out, emotionless, that he would not seek contact with her and she could sleep in peace.

Isolde wasn’t worried about that. The Brions kept their word, and forcing women was anathema to them. She was worried about herself.

For good reason. Diego’s bedroom was dim like the rest of the ship, illuminated only by the globes on the walls and the valor squares in his neck. For once, Isolde found herself thankful for the lack of light, maybe she wouldn’t get caught literally unable to stop her mouth from watering.

Diego was more than gorgeous, he was flawless. His back was to her, perhaps an attempt to keep his modesty, but more likely to avoid her gaze. The armor was discarded along with the shirt underneath, leaving him standing there bare from the waist up. Strong, lean muscles glinted in the light of the pulsing crystals, showing his own desire, which Isolde did her best to ignore.

His skin was darker than hers, tanned by Terran standards, smooth and silky. She knew that from experience and could not stop the shiver of need to touch him again, feel the heat of his skin under her fingers. To be kissed by those lips and groped by those arms. Her eyes travelled downwards to the curve of his ass, made easier by Diego bending to remove his pants, giving her the full view of his nakedness.