Havoc by Linda Gayle Page A

earshot, Sayal said, “He's a very sweet man. I thought he didn't like me, but I think he's just cautious."
    "Yeah, like I told you, he's the sensible one, and he is a good man, good man in a fight, believe me.” There was admiration and affection in his tone, which made her mind wander ever further into uncharted territory.
    "Well,” she said, fishing her omnikey out of her belt pouch, “here we are."
    "Wait a sec.” Kels pinched the key from her fingers. “What's this? That's how you got into my cube last night, eh?"
    "Yes.” She felt her cheeks heating.
    "Stole this too, along with that knife you had no business carrying?"
    "Yes. Where is my knife, by the way?"
    "In my weapons locker, safe away.” His gentle scolding made her feel as incompetent as she truly was. The nuances of thievery evaded her; she'd had to resort to drugging a strange woman's drink to get those items, and now she prayed he wouldn't inquire further as to how she'd acquired them.
    "Since you seem set on keeping my knife, can I at least have my key back?” She held out her hand, and after he held it away for a second, teasing, he dropped it into her palm. Sayal breathed a sigh of relief and swiped it over the pad. The door whispered open, and they stepped into the cube.
    "Not bad,” Kels said, assessing the place with his hands on his hips.
    The door smoothed shut. “It's small,” she said apologetically.
    "Aren't all cubes?” He strolled around as if he owned the place, sticking his head through the open doors that led into other rooms—two sleeping rooms, a dining area, a cleansing chamber, and the social area into which they'd entered. The white carpet absorbed his boot falls as he wandered. In the stark white and steel interior, he looked large and dangerous, a roving predator, his deep brown hair scruffed by his fingers, his swarthy skin and dark clothing an ominous contrast to the brightness of the decor.
    Sayal found she held her breath as she watched him. She also found that she wanted him very badly. Her lips burned for another kiss.
    "Are you feeling all right?” he asked. He must have noticed her staring. Of course he did. She was a stupid moon-eyed dew-puppy, yearning for sex that, for the first time, wasn't demanded of her, that came from her own choosing.
    "Yes, actually. My back is feeling better. It's as if the pain is lifting away.” She started to walk past him to the dining area, but he put his arm up like a bar, stopping her.
    "Sayal, look at me."
    She did, to see the concern in his eyes. He was considerably taller than she, broader and far stronger, and when he took her face between his palms, she felt the controlled strength in his grip. “It's all right to ask for help, luv. That's why I'm here. If we're truly to become gamespartners, we need to start bonding, caring for each other. Keeva and me, for instance—we're real tight. That's why we're so good together."
    That name again. That other woman. “How can you be my gamespartner, then, if you still care for her?"
    He smoothed his fingertips over her temples. “You're not limited to one partner. If we were in a steady triad or a troupe, for instance, we'd all care for one another. It's just the way it's done. Do you believe me?"
    She licked her lower lip nervously, enjoying his touch but too uncertain to show it, and still slightly, irrationally peeved at the mention of his old partner. “Yes. You know more about it than I do, I'm sure."
    "Your research didn't tell you?” Now his hands settled on her shoulders, warm, steady pressure.
    "I've seen the high games, from a distance. I watched you and...Keeva and the others in the Dome, but how you work the personal end of things—no, I don't know much about that.” Gingerly, she put her hands on his hips. “Will you teach me? You're right. I do need to—"
    His mouth came down over hers, swallowing her words and the small squeak of surprise. His lips were firm and hot, sucking; then his tongue quested between