I saw the way she sucked in a breath, how her lips parted and flushed, how her pupils dilated. I smelled her arousal. She was so beautiful?—
She was—she is, and probably always has been—beautiful.
And…yes, she is objectively, physically attractive, for a human. She is not of my own species, but she is lovely—with a slender waist, generous hips, a pointed chin and button nose. Her hair is a cloud of chestnut curls, her skin the deep, radiant hue of nebular dust in the Rift Veil. She’s?—
I stop mid-thought.
Take a deep breath.
This is wrong.
And it isn’t even truly the point, because what really entices me about Lyn Walker isn’t her beauty; it’s her mind. She is brilliant. Stubborn, reckless, infuriating—but brilliant. She doesn’t wait for permission, doesn’t treat carefully. She takes well-established theories apart as if she doesn’t give a damn whose toes she steps on, then she remakes them. Her report on her own diagnostic anomalies reads like she wrote it in one sitting and didn’t revise it at all—which means it’s clumsy, disorganized, and still better than ninety percent of what I’ve seen from researchers three times her age.
I shouldn’t be thinking about that either.
Not how her curiosity winds through every clever observation…how I can picture her face when she makes a breakthrough.
How I can hear the sound she made when I touched her.
My comm chimes and I let out an annoyed growl, glancing down at the screen. It’s Shahar—calling for an update on Solvi, as she does every night in the summer. I accept the video link, and Shahar’s face appears a moment later.
She smiles. “Hi, Kaelion.”
“Shahar,” I say, leaning back at the desk in my home office. “I trust you’ve settled in again okay?”
“I miss our girl, but I know she’s having a great time,” Shahar says. “Is she awake?”
“Let me see…”
I stand, taking my comm with me as I go down the hall to check on Solvi. Her door is cracked just enough for me to peek in without disturbing her, and I find her curled up on the floor with her drawing tablet and a stylus, scribbling away. There’s a set of panels in full color on the screen—a comic of her very own, it appears. She has a set of headphones on, and she doesn’t see me, her feet wiggling to the music.
“She’s working on another masterpiece,” I say, turning the comm slightly so Shahar can see.
Shahar laughs. “Looks like she’s in the zone.”
“She is,” I reply. “Do you want me to get her?”
“No, no—don’t interrupt her. Just tell her I love her and I’ll call again tomorrow. How’s everything else?”
I sigh again, a little too loudly.
Even though we were never really a couple…she knows me too well.
“Everything is fine,” I mutter.
She laughs out loud, shaking her head. In the background, I see Wulfric pass behind her wearing nothing but a pair of loose black pants. I wonder if he did it on purpose to show me just what kind of specimen he is.
“Why are you laughing?” I snap.
“Because I’m sure you didn’t cross any professional boundaries today,” she replies.
I grumble. “Solvi told you.”
“About lunch? Yes.” Shahar cocks her head, tendrils twitching. “Our little blossom is convinced that you’ve fallen head over heels in love with our subordinate.”
“And I tried to explain to her how inappropriate that would be.”
“She does not care.”
