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“Not according to the lieutenant governor’s wishes. Or Speaker Mitchell, who threatened you.”
She startled to a halt. Selt kept walking a couple of steps before he stopped to regard her, his expression questioning.
“How do you know that?” she demanded
He offered a meaningful but gentle smile again. “I also have sources, Matara Blythe.”
“Who? Don’t I have a right to their names?” She slowly approached him, a single step. As mild as Selt appeared…for a fierce Nobek…a shiver shot down her spine, as if she neared a calm but dangerous predator.
“As much right as I have to discover who gave you so many codes into the old Church’s secret files.”
Blythe’s blood froze. If he knew of her access to the old records, did he know the rest? Had he learned who had sent her to Earth II?
Chapter Twelve
Blythe drew a steadying breath. She took another step toward Selt, putting her uncomfortably in grabbing distance. “Are you suggesting a trade?”
He regarded her. “Maybe. Or maybe I simply can’t stand the thought of such an intelligent woman being intimidated by an Earthtique who may have had his intern killed.”
Her fear she’d been discovered shattered under a rush of excitement. Did he have the goods on Mitchell? “You have access to files on Mercy? Did you find proof of a crime by the speaker?”
Instead of answering, Selt glanced behind her and smiled. “My Dramok, my Imdiko. I’d like to introduce you to someone.”
Blythe turned to spot a couple of smiling men nearing. Damn. As if Selt weren’t easy enough on the eyes, his clanmates took her breath away.
“Matara Blythe Nelson, my Dramok, Deram.”
The model-perfect man sporting photogenic waves of black hair bowed to her. “Matara, a pleasure. I believe I’ve seen you reporting on the Earth news vids?”
She was too stunned to reply. If Deram had a physical flaw, she couldn’t find it. His features were perfectly masculine, as if chiseled by a master sculptor. His gray formsuit showed telltale bulges of armor, but it failed to disguise a body worth drooling over. Deram was magnificent.
“And my Imdiko, Hadlez.”
The handsomest man she’d ever met was joined by the prettiest. Hadlez had a boyish quality, particularly with him smiling brightly at her. He bowed, his long, straight hair sweeping across his shoulders as he did so. “Hello, Matara Blythe.”
A beat passed, and she realized she hadn’t responded. “Hi,” she breathed, and her brain promptly froze again. She could only stare.
Selt came around to stand next to them, adding to the incomparable eye candy. A distant voice in her mind protested.It isn’t fair they’re so gorgeous!
“Are you hot on the trail of a story?” Deram asked, his voice deep and beguiling. He glanced at Selt and grinned. “What did you do to get her attention? Were you scandalous?”
“Not yet.” Selt laughed. “At least, not that anyone knows of.”
“Are you working, Matara? We were on our way to have dinner. Do you like Kalquorian food?” Lovely Hadlez hadn’t looked away from her, his regard warming her from head to toe, particularly in certain places.
“Yes, join us for a meal. You can tell me what my Nobek’s done to earn the attention of the media and if I should beat him.” Deram nudged Selt.
“Beat him?” The gears and cogs of Blythe’s brain began to turn again. She all but physically shook off the spell the men cast to realize the Dramok was joking. “Oh, no, unless you want to smack him around on general principles. I have no doubt he’s earned it.”
She scowled at Selt, though she wasn’t sure he’d set her up. Certainly he hadn’t plotted to introduce her to his clan and ask her to dinner? Not after their less-than-friendly encounter months ago.
“I sense a story between you two. Now you absolutely must join us for dinner, Matara. Perhaps a few drinks will tempt the tale from you?”
Wielding an easy confidence Blythe found herself envying, Deram took her arm. She lost the ability to think lucidly again, long enough for him to urge her toward a nearby restaurant before she realized she was going along uncomplaining. As she readied to set her heels, Hadlez took her other arm. He smiled so sweetly at her, Blythe couldn’t think of a single reason why she shouldn’t have dinner in their company.
“You’re paying,” she finally managed.
“Of course. It will be my pleasure,” Deram assured her, the voltage of his grin never dimming.
