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Her heart leapt up in her chest, startling her, at the mention of another day. Another shared day? The two of them? It filled her with a girlish glee and that surprised her, too.
“You, from what I’ve learned thus far, have an interesting tale to tell as well?” he said.
She blushed wildly, unexpectedly. The blush heated even more when she realized what it was really about: she had his undivided attention. For so long she’d prided herself on not needing a thing from anyone and now, out of nowhere, she wanted to tell him everything about herself. She wanted him to listen, wanted his interest.
It wasn’t so much shameful—at least not in the way the past few hours had been—as it was a foreign feeling, one that made her a little queasy.
“I’ve been here and there,” she answered, trying to match his modesty.
He leaned closer. “How many seasons are you, Quaia?” he asked.
“Twenty-two,” she replied.
“And you would have me believe that a female solo pilot of twenty-two seasons with her own ship doesn’t have a tale or two to tell?” he asked.
Her eyes fluttered away in embarrassment at being called out for her false modesty. “I don’t like to boast,” she told him. It was confusing, feeling like she wanted to share herself with him, and yet not.
“That’s not what I’m asking of you. We have some time together with not much to do. May as well fill it with pleasantries instead of sitting here in silence. No?”
His matter-of-fact reply hardened all the squishy, uncertain emotions that had been coursing through her. Of course he was just passing the time. She sat up a little straighter and, in her mind, admonished herself for being so silly as to think he actually cared. “I mostly fly barter. A shipment or two if I can get them, but no one trusts a woman as young as me. Unglamorous work.”
He paused, contemplating what she’d said. “And yet you do it nonetheless?”
“I do,” she replied, looking off to the side to feign disinterest in their pleasantries. Suns. The last thing she should be doing right now is having girlish fantasies about a man sent to inspect and train her for a mate she would never want.
A long silence followed, Torian leaning back in his chair and to the side on one elbow. “Why?” he asked quietly. “It must be lonely out there. In my experience, women like having someone to turn to. To talk to. Or are you so different you don’t care?”
His sincere tone and the honest question about her feelings tipped her off balance again. She glanced at him and could have sworn she saw genuine interest in his expression. Looking into his eyes and holding his steady gaze, she could have sworn she felt something form between them. She glanced at him and bit her lip.
“I love the deep dark,” she finally whispered. When she said it, it made her feel vulnerable, because it was the truth.
The beginnings of a smile flirted with the corners of his mouth and danced in his eyes.
She resented how it made her chest swell with excitement. She did her best to push the feeling away, down into her belly where she wouldn’t have to deal with it.
“Of course you do,” he said, his voice nearly a growl. He was staring at her intently now. Eyes searching her expression for what other secrets she might hold. He drew his finger in a line above his lip.
To her mind, the room filled with tension. Humming, buzzing electric tension feeding on the energy between them. Or was that just her imagination?
Suddenly she felt the need for fresh distraction. His gaze was too penetrating, his questions too intimate, and his curiosity about her too probing. “How did you land on the Andomocles?” she asked, yanking the topic of conversation in a different direction again.
He considered the question for a long moment before leaning closer still, glancing side to side like a spy about to reveal a secret. Even though it was just the two of them in the room, he wanted to be sure no one would hear. “I have a flaw. Or two.”
His answer forced the corners of her mouth upward and only intrigued her more. Mostly because she’d never met a man that could admit to having even one flaw. But she didn’t want to pry.
Except she did. So, so much. “I don’t know if I can believe that,” she said. Then she blushed. That was too flirtatious. Too coquettish. Too obvious.
His gaze was disarming. The gentle smile had formed fully on his lips now. He was amused and that doubled her embarrassment. Why was she behaving like this? That blasted fluttering in her insides because of the way he was looking at her. The urge gripped her to go find a wrench and fix a flux drive somewhere. That was a known variable. That was safe. Sitting in the room with him felt dangerous.
He gave a single nod and his smile warmed. “It’s true, whether you believe it or not.”
She matched his smile, hoping he would think she was just being as friendly as he was and not having all those other feelings. Then she let out an awkward laugh, touched her neck, and looked away.
Which was all the more enraging. It was all so instinctive. Impulsive. Thoughtless. Like she was reading from a script that had been performed a hundred billion times before. “I’m sorry I…” She did her best to straighten in her chair. Compose herself and stop being such a saccharine cherub, for the Seven Suns’ sakes!
“No need to apologize,” he said, shaking his head. He seemed completely in control of himself. Totally the opposite of how she felt. His gaze was even more intense, and he seemed almost pleased with her discomfort. Or did he? “Don’t tell me you’re not interested in what they are?” he asked. “I thought women loved a bit of gossip they could share?”
The opening that left her proved impossible to resist. She flashed a wry smile. “I’m not like the other girls,” she said. A hot humiliation flared through her. What? Quaia Sangsen did not, under any circumstances, talk like that to men. She looked away, her face burning with heat.
