The Only One

that? Men stood, they loitered, they even loafed; they didn't loom. "Go back to your dinner, Romjha."
    His mouth spread in a determined line. She should have learned her lesson from their encounter the day before, when she'd first asked him to bring her topside: Romjha B'kah did not take kindly to being dismissed.
    "If I'd wanted to remain at dinner, I would have done so," he said.
    "What, then? What do you want? Have you come for your apology?" She fisted her hands at her sides.
    "Here, I'll give it to you. I'm sorry I implied what I did about your family. I had no right. I—"
    "You had every right, Taj." His expression didn't change, but his eyes gleamed strangely. She wasn't sure she liked the fire burning in them. It'd be an impressive show if he loosed his wrath, but he didn't.
    She thought of stepping around him, but his tall, muscular body left little space to maneuver. "Please move aside. I have to work."
    "I had a feeling you were going to your lab."
    "You know me so well," she retorted contemptuously.
    The answering heat in his stare told her that perhaps he did indeed know her well. Too well. "You haven't slept yet. You've been working long enough, Taj. It gets to a point when it's dangerous. You're at that point."
    Her temper rose. "Dangerous?" she hissed. "Don't talk to me about dangerous. You, who praised the raiders for what they did yesterday. You, who dreams of taking on the entire galaxy."
    With a visible tamping down of his frustration, Romjha exhaled. "Taj, I'd rather you didn't work tonight. In fact, I'm asking you not to."
    His manner was careful. Almost gentle. Sweat prickled Taj's forehead. She was looking for a fight, and had thought she'd get one. After the wounding remark she'd made about his wife and child, she was surprised Romjha bothered speaking pleasantly to her at all. "I work when I need ... to think."
    He started to reach for her arm, then let his hand fall. She couldn't pull her gaze from those blunt, long-tipped fingers. "Do your thinking in bed," he suggested.
    His eyes glinted with what seemed a promise. Her skin heated; her breasts tingled. Crat. She was actually growing aroused arguing with him. Stop it. Her fantasies were getting the better of her. Again. This was neither the time nor the place.
    "I'm not sleepy." She took a breath and pushed past him. "Good night, Commander."
    He followed her. "You're relieved of duty. That's an order."
    She turned around, walking backward. "We're not topside. Here you have no authority over me."
    "The chemicals you use are hazardous; they require concentration. You haven't slept," he repeated.
    She spread her hands. "Who has?"
    "You're exhausted."
    "Pah!" She thumped her fists onto her thighs and marched back to him. "I'll tell you what I am. I'm furious.
    I'm so furious I could tear you apart, limb by suicidal limb."
    He raised a brow. "Suicidal?"
    "Yes, suicidal. I can see it in your eves. You're going to leave with them." Her stomach twisted. "Am I right?"
    His voice was both resolute and rueful. "Yes, Taj. I will be leaving when Jal and Cheya depart."
    The blood drained from her face. It was one thing imagining the truth; it was entirely another to hear it confirmed.
    She bunched up her hands and pressed them to her stomach. Frantically she tried to work up a good, seething rage, but for the first time since losing her father, she failed. She could only find hurt and fear.
    "You're going to die and break my heart." She swallowed convulsively. "Aren't you?"
    His eyes were suddenly so dark and profound that she feared she'd lose herself in them. "I have every reason not to," he said.
    "By the heavens, I hope I'm not one of them." She marched close enough to him to feel his body heat. "You said you couldn't promise me tomorrow," she accused.
    "A knee-jerk response! I was angry. I didn't want to contemplate losing you."
    "Well, I'm angry, too." She reached for his collar and tried to shake him. "But one thing I won't contemplate is you not giving me tonight." She tugged him down to her and kissed him.
    A deep sound rumbled in his chest. He tasted sweet, like root ale, and his lips were salty. Shyness didn't matter. That she'd wanted him like this forever didn't matter. What he thought of her audacity didn't matter.
    This was all she'd have. This moment. This night.
    She wrapped the fabric of his collar around her knuckles and thrust her tongue deep into the dark, sweet heat of his mouth.
    If he had any reservations about what she'd