Page 48 of A Delicate Conquest

“Hm.” He was looking at her again—in an indecipherable, hyper-intense, Kordolian kind of way.

Bea suddenly felt self-conscious. “What?”

He leaned in, whispering in her ear. “I’m in awe of how open and fearless you are.”

“Only because you make it so easy for me to be.”

A wicked little half-smile tugged at his lips. “Does that mean you trust me, then?”

“Imostlytrust you to do the right thing, yes.”

“Mostly?”

“Let’s not forget that you knew all about the thing with the Mating Fever even before I set foot in this place. You had the home turf advantage, and you knew it.”

“I…” Mavrel waved one hand through the air, becoming uncharacteristically flustered. “It’s as I said. I was as ill-prepared for this as you. Even more so. It was Zharek who forced the issue.”

“And aren’t we glad he did?”

“Perhaps. I have a plan to deal with him,” Mavrel said quietly, his expression becoming cold and distant.

Bea wasn’t sure if she wanted to ask.

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill him. I won’t even physically harm him. I’m merely going to cause him to receive some of his own medicine.”

She chuckled. “You know, there’s a human saying—to give someone ataste of their own medicine.I think you might be getting the hang of the wordplay thing.”

“Never,” Mavrel said dryly, and Bea couldn’t tell if he was being serious or deadpan-funny. “I always say what I mean.”

Abruptly, he stiffened, pulling her closer. Bea was about to wonder what all the fuss was about, but then she saw him.

It was uncanny, seeing a certain face up close—one she’d seen so many times before: on the Networks, in viral news holograms, in official Federation communications.

It washim.

General Tarak al Akkadian.

Probably the single most powerful man in the Nine Galaxies.

He trapped them in his dark-red stare and walkedright upto them.

And he was every bit as intimidating and charismatic in real life as he appeared on the Networks.

“Mavrel.” He tipped his head in greeting.

“Sir,” Mavrel said, bowing his head deferentially.

Bea’s eyebrows rose. It was the first time she’d seen Mavrel act like this with anyone. She suspected it was an automatic response, conditioned from his days in the Kordolian Military, like a sort of muscle memory.

Some habits died hard, apparently.

Then, Tarak al Akkadian turned to her, and Bea found herself staring back at the most inscrutable, hard-ass-looking, and, quite frankly, terrifying individual she’d ever encountered.

“Bea,” he said, offering her a small bow. It was the same sort of greeting she’d had from a few Kordolians already, but whenhedid it, she felt like she was supposed to stand to attention or something. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I trust Mavrel is being hospitable.”

She wasn’t surprised that he already knew who she was. “He’s a wonderful host, Sir,” she replied. “I couldn’t be happier right now.”

“Good. And you may call me Tarak.” The former commander of the entire Kordolian Imperial Military, who had broken the empire and disrupted the balance of power in the Nine Galaxies, actuallysmiledat her, showing the points of his fangs.

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