Page 111 of Alien Burn

“At me?”

“Her objections included you. She doesn't like that we're spending time together.”

Sereya's gaze dropped to the edge of the table.

He didn't reach for her immediately. The room was occupied; she might prefer to keep whatever she was feeling out of it.

“She asked about the packet,” he said. “I told her it was held under the screening order. I didn't tell her about your call.”

“Will she believe you?”

“I don't know. I wanted you to hear what happened from me.”

Sereya nodded.

“She'll tell me you were concerned about my behavior.”

“I wasn't.”

“That I made you uncomfortable. Or misunderstood something.”

“You haven't.”

Her mouth moved in a small, unhappy attempt at a smile.

“I know what she says before she says it. You'd think that would help more.”

“Does hearing me say otherwise help at all?”

She looked up.

“Yes.”

“Then I'll be explicit. I asked you to breakfast because I needed to see you. I enjoyed holding your hand yesterday. And that kiss, Sereya—I'm burning for you. I've spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to work while I remember exactly where your mouth touched me.”

The unhappy smile changed.

“How much time?”

“I won't put a figure on it in a public room.”

A little color returned to her cheeks.

“Some of that may have been mutual,” she said.

“Only some?”

“I won't put a figure on it either.”

He held her gaze until she laughed and looked down at her plate.

There was work to do. Calls waiting. A clerk to question and a search he needed to check. He knew all of it. He could still choose to remain in this chair long enough to eat the meal she had saved him.

He took up his fork.

For several minutes they talked about the food. She had mistaken a sharp condiment for a fruit preserve and warned him with considerable feeling. He tried it on the wrong thing deliberately, argued that it improved it, and endured her look of disbelief until the heat made his eyes water.

“That serves you right,” she said, passing him water.