their alliance had been dispatched to Minoa and other sources in the Federation, and she supposed it was logical of him to wonder. This was different from when he asked about whether she and Damon were lovers. This had to do with her feelings. Males and females mated often enough without any emotional attachment.
She responded with careful evasion. “I have known him my entire life, but that embrace you saw on the monitor was the only time we’ve ever touched each other in that way.”
“You did not answer my question, Princess. I know very well Le Clerc left you untouched physically.”
Of course he knew, remembering how Marc had taken her and the pleasure of their joining. Was she in love with Damon? She’d never allowed herself to think about it too closely, for as they grew to adulthood, Damon became more and more inclined to his academic pursuits and growing desire to push for political changes, and her mother had taken measures to make sure they were closely chaperoned if together. It wasn’t so much a fear that Jayla would lose her virginity—that taboo had been lifted long ago—as it was a worry she might refuse a marriage based on political alliance because of her attachment to Damon.
Well, she’d made a compromise and done what was best for Anasta. And if she was being honest with herself, Marc Kartel’s compelling charm had overcome her reservations, not to mention his desire to help Damon.
“I love him,” she admitted. “But he has made some choices that prohibit a formal relationship that would ever meet with the approval of my mother or his father. How could I ever ask him to step away from his convictions?”
Aquamarine eyes regarded her with approval. “I’m glad you were just honest with me.”
“I owe you.”
His brows lifted minutely. “I think that many would believe I owe you , Princess, for my elevated status from mere ambassador to royal consort of one of the most prosperous planets in the Federation.”
“Your father is probably the most powerful man in the interstellar Federation, so it isn’t such a big step up.”
“Rather like Damon, my father is who he is, but I’ve had to make my own way.”
Whatever she might have said then was interrupted by the flash announcing a visitor at the door. Damon must have washed and changed in record time, for when Marc pressed the entry button, he stepped through the door, dressed in a neatly pressed tunic and pants as opposed to his captive uniform, and his dark hair was damp and curled against his neck.
His face—every feature—was achingly familiar, yet different at the same time, for while their friendship was undeniable, they looked at each other as male and female now after that searing kiss.
For a long moment, their gazes just locked. As usual, Damon’s intensity came through in the set of his shoulders and the line of his sensual mouth. Should she apologize for pledging herself to another? Or just offer him the glass of wine Marc had suggested they share and pretend that she hadn’t taken another male as a life partner that very day?
She opted for the wine. “Do you wish something to drink?”
“No.” He took a step closer to her. “I didn’t come here for a glass of damned wine, Jay.”
Confused, she just stared at him.
“I came here for you.” He took another step. And another.
“For me?”
The glitter in his eyes was unmistakable. She’d seen it before once or twice—maybe more if she was honest with herself—but did the idiot think that one kiss gave him the privilege to take what he wanted? Not to mention how much he owed Marc Kartel…
But, unfortunately, there was one secret part of her, newly awakened, that remembered what it was like to have his mouth slanted over hers in hungry possession.
“I think we’ve put this off long enough.” Damon pulled her without reservation against his tall body. His mouth brushed her temple, teased the line of her jaw, and then he whispered against her lips,
She responded with careful evasion. “I have known him my entire life, but that embrace you saw on the monitor was the only time we’ve ever touched each other in that way.”
“You did not answer my question, Princess. I know very well Le Clerc left you untouched physically.”
Of course he knew, remembering how Marc had taken her and the pleasure of their joining. Was she in love with Damon? She’d never allowed herself to think about it too closely, for as they grew to adulthood, Damon became more and more inclined to his academic pursuits and growing desire to push for political changes, and her mother had taken measures to make sure they were closely chaperoned if together. It wasn’t so much a fear that Jayla would lose her virginity—that taboo had been lifted long ago—as it was a worry she might refuse a marriage based on political alliance because of her attachment to Damon.
Well, she’d made a compromise and done what was best for Anasta. And if she was being honest with herself, Marc Kartel’s compelling charm had overcome her reservations, not to mention his desire to help Damon.
“I love him,” she admitted. “But he has made some choices that prohibit a formal relationship that would ever meet with the approval of my mother or his father. How could I ever ask him to step away from his convictions?”
Aquamarine eyes regarded her with approval. “I’m glad you were just honest with me.”
“I owe you.”
His brows lifted minutely. “I think that many would believe I owe you , Princess, for my elevated status from mere ambassador to royal consort of one of the most prosperous planets in the Federation.”
“Your father is probably the most powerful man in the interstellar Federation, so it isn’t such a big step up.”
“Rather like Damon, my father is who he is, but I’ve had to make my own way.”
Whatever she might have said then was interrupted by the flash announcing a visitor at the door. Damon must have washed and changed in record time, for when Marc pressed the entry button, he stepped through the door, dressed in a neatly pressed tunic and pants as opposed to his captive uniform, and his dark hair was damp and curled against his neck.
His face—every feature—was achingly familiar, yet different at the same time, for while their friendship was undeniable, they looked at each other as male and female now after that searing kiss.
For a long moment, their gazes just locked. As usual, Damon’s intensity came through in the set of his shoulders and the line of his sensual mouth. Should she apologize for pledging herself to another? Or just offer him the glass of wine Marc had suggested they share and pretend that she hadn’t taken another male as a life partner that very day?
She opted for the wine. “Do you wish something to drink?”
“No.” He took a step closer to her. “I didn’t come here for a glass of damned wine, Jay.”
Confused, she just stared at him.
“I came here for you.” He took another step. And another.
“For me?”
The glitter in his eyes was unmistakable. She’d seen it before once or twice—maybe more if she was honest with herself—but did the idiot think that one kiss gave him the privilege to take what he wanted? Not to mention how much he owed Marc Kartel…
But, unfortunately, there was one secret part of her, newly awakened, that remembered what it was like to have his mouth slanted over hers in hungry possession.
“I think we’ve put this off long enough.” Damon pulled her without reservation against his tall body. His mouth brushed her temple, teased the line of her jaw, and then he whispered against her lips,
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