Kinsmen 01 - Silver Shark

cooking attempt, convinced that every moment Security Forces led by Venturo Eskala would barge through her door. She'd finished the Dahlia Three-Color Stir-Fry and ate it. It wasn't as good as she had hoped, but it wasn't at all bad. Considering the bland food on which she grew up, her taste buds probably needed a lot of education to fine tune her palate. Or perhaps the anxiety that made her jump at every stray noise interfered with her ability to enjoy the meal.
    Claire had taken a long, luxurious bath and, exhausted, fell asleep in the bathtub. She dreamed of Venturo, of his green eyes, of his bronze skin, of wanting to kiss him. Her dream-addled imagination conjured the taste of his mouth, the feel of his hands on her body as he stroked her, the weight of his muscular body pressing on top off her. She awoke to a cold bath.
    He was as powerful as she had expected and more. When she thought about their fight, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
    When she finally crawled into bed, she realized that she had gotten away with it.
    He would never find out who she truly was. She curled into a tight ball and lay there for hours, her thoughts too loud, the phantom images of Venturo sliding back and forth across her memory.
    Now it was Monday. She was once again the calm, collected Claire. She walked to her office, a comfortable nook on the side of Venturo's glass cage. Today the glass was opaque, frosted with white by a privacy switch. Ven didn't want to be disturbed. Just as well.
    She barely had a chance to put down her bag, when Lienne approached the office, marching down the hallway.
    The older woman nodded at her. "Claire, about the Berruto analysis. I know it was last minute, so if you want to take a few days, it will be fine."
    Claire flicked the stylus across the digital screen projected onto her desk and smiled. "It's in your inbox."
    Lienne glanced at her tablet. "So it is. Thank you."
    "You're welcome."
    The older woman regarded her for a long second and rapped her knuckles on opaque door. The frost melted from the glass. Ven sat inside. He was wearing a bionet suit. Dark circles clutched at his eyes.
    Claire forced herself to sit down at her desk and look busy.
    Lienne stepped inside the office and crossed her arms. Her mind sent a focused thought.
    "Rolando said you and Claire had an intimate dinner in the Roof Garden on Friday."
    Ven grimaced. "Rolando needs to keep his mouth shut."
    "I've warned you about this, Ven."
    His face looked grim.
    "I'd gone to see Sangori. Claire insisted on coming with me, because apparently I 'shouldn't go alone.'"
    "You shouldn't have."
    "I ran into Castilla, Lim, and Pelori. Pelori locked Claire in front of a lobby full of witnesses. She didn't scream. Didn't panic. When I forced him to let go, she landed on her feet and asked if she should alert the authorities. No shaking in the voice. Nothing. She made us look strong and competent. She singlehandedly restored my standing in the community and she doesn't even realize it."
    "I know all that." Lienne waved her hand. "The story is making the rounds."
    Ven looked up and his eyes betrayed anger. "Then why in the world are you badgering me about serving her dinner? Should I have sent her home and then be notified that her mind developed a lesion and her brains leaked out of her ears?"
    Lienne leaned forward, resting her knuckles on his desk. "That's not what that dinner was and you know it. You cooked for her, Ven. You served her pink wine. You were up there for two hours. The only thing missing from this romantic rendezvous were the passion cones and only because the kitchen didn't have any."
    Ven leaned back in his chair and sighed.
    "There are things that aren't appropriate between the owner of a business and an employee."
    "Don't lecture me," he warned.
    "I will lecture you. Has it crossed your mind that she may feel obligated to accept your advances?"
    "What advances? Nothing happened."
    "She can't decline your invitations. In her mind, you're putting her into a position where she must accept your overtures or risk being sent back to a hellish planet where she might be put to death on arrival. You're putting her into a very difficult position."
    He waved his hand at her. "Nothing. Happened. It wasn't that kind of dinner."
    "Oh? What did you talk about?"
    "Nothing. She asked about Castilla and then I asked her about her childhood."
    "Venturo! Do you not see the writing on this wall? She is a talented girl, smart,