Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“Fine,” Drago growled. “Then I’ll go with you. But don’t say I didn’t fucking warn you when things go bad.”
Commander Sylvan frowned at their exchange.
“I’m sorry, Commander Drago, I don’t want to discount your concerns, but are there any other objections you can make to this mission other than the fact that you don’t like the Vargan Ambassador?”
Reluctantly, Drago shook his head.
“No. I just don’t trust him. He’s too slick.”
“You mean he’s polite and actually makes conversation instead of sitting there like a lump on a log,” Addie snapped.
“Well if he—” Drago growled.
“All right, enough!” Commander Sylvan held out a hand to stop the two of them. “As it stands, I can’t think of a reason to turn down the Vargans’ invitation. They appear to be eminently civilized and the High Council thinks they would make excellent allies and trading partners. So I’m going to allow you, Dr. Hollister, to accept Ambassador Sambla’s invitation. Commander Drago, you may accompany her if you wish. If not, I’ll find another warrior to serve as her Protector.”
“Fuck no! I said I was going and I’m going,” was Drago’s reply, though he was still scowling when he said it.
“Fine. Then you’d better get moving—the ceremony is tomorrow night. I recommend you pack up and leave as soon as possible. Commander Drago, let the Communications Department know when you’re ready to fly and the Mother Ship will fold space for you to Crimson Moon.”
"Fine." Drago had nodded shortly but Addie thought more than a one-word answer was important.
“Thank you for trusting my judgment, Commander Sylvan,” she’d said, rising to offer her hand to their boss. “I appreciate your confidence in me.”
“Just be careful,” he’d said, taking her hand with a worried frown.
“Addison doesn’t have to be careful—that’s what she’s got me for,” Drago growled.
And that was the end of their interview. Addie had wanted to stay and talk some more—to try and reason with her big Protector. But Drago had said nothing but, “Guess we’d better pack,” before stomping off down one of the Mother Ship’s long metal corridors, leaving her to simmer with irritation.
She was still irritated now, Addie admitted to herself, as she watched him pilot their ship through the scarlet slash in space that led to their destination. After years of never saying a word about any of the missions they’d been on together, now he decided to kick up a fuss just because he didn’t like the Vargan ambassador. It was silly and it was ruining her anticipation of the lovely reception she was sure they would receive on Crimson Moon.
Why is he so damn stubborn? Is he actually jealous for once? But why would he be? They weren’t in any kind of romantic relationship and he’d never shown any interest in her that way. From the corner of her eye, she studied her Protector, wishing she could read his mind.
“No use staring at me like that,” Drago rumbled, keeping his eyes straight ahead as he flew the ship. “I said what I said and I don’t fucking care if you like it or not. That fucking Lx Sambla isn’t to be trusted.”
“You don’t like him because he was flirting with me,” Addie accused him. “Just because you don’t find me attractive doesn’t mean other men don’t!”
He turned his head to look at her, frowning.
“What the fuck gave you that idea? Of course I think you're attractive—you're a fucking gorgeous Elite! With your full hips and thick thighs, not to mention those big, starry eyes and that flame-colored hair, any male would want you.”
“You…but you…” Addie didn’t know how to finish her sentence. Her Protector wasn’t in the habit of offering her compliments. The most he would ever say was, “You look fine” and he only said that if she specifically asked him to comment on what she was wearing on a particular mission. (Luckily for this mission, she hadn’t had to pack any special outfits because the Vargans were going to be providing their clothes.)
“I don’t like Sambla because he’s too smooth—there’s something fake about him,” Drago went on. “And he smells like old blood.” His nose wrinkled. “I don’t fucking like that.”
Addie opened and closed her mouth, not sure what to say. The idea that her gruff and growly Protector thought she was “gorgeous” and that he especially admired her wide hips and thick thighs—which she considered problem areas—was almost more than she could take in.
Just at that moment they flew out of the other side of the fold in space and found themselves in orbit around a tiny silver and red planetoid.
“There it is,” Drago rumbled, nodding at the planetoid floating in the viewscreen.
“Oh—it really is a moon, I guess,” Addie remarked, nodding at the huge gas giant with more rings than Saturn in the background. Clearly the planetoid they were aiming at was orbiting the much larger planetary body.