Page 11 of Escape Clause

He’d been late coming to get her—everyone else’s matches had been waiting for them and greeted them exuberantly, joyfully. Couples had paired up and rushed away to their new happy lives, and she’d been left alone, forgotten, worried her match wouldn’t be coming at all. When he finally did show up, he’d never even saidhelloor offered an apology or a good explanation for being late. And although he’d denied it, he’d been disappointed by her homely appearance.

His reasons for needing the marriage to be temporary bore that out. How had he phrased it? “It’s not in me to love another person?” She’d heardthatbefore. Anytime anybody said, “It’s not you; it’s me,” itwasyou.

His environment confirmed her impression of him. His apartment lacked warmth and a personal touch. Even the flowers.She loved flowers, and, at first, she had been moved by the gesture, until she realized they wereexactlylike the ones in the lobby. Same blooms, same arrangement. He’d chosen them not for her but for the lobby, had a few left over, and stuck the extras inherroom.

Right off the bat, he’d announced they would sleep apart. She’d assumed sex would be one of the benefits of the marriage once they’d gotten to know each other. Instead, he’d given her the distinct impression he’d ruled out physical intimacy completely.This really will be just a marriage of convenience.If she’d nursed a tiny hope that maybe she would find love, well, that was the end of that.

“I usually eat a meal this time of evening,” he said, and she noticed the sky had taken on a rosy hue. “Would you care to join me for dinner?” he asked in an ultra-polite tone.

She’d never considered food! What did Caradonians eat? What if their food was gross? What if her body couldn’t digest it? A new concern arose, adding to her turmoil. Her stomach was churning, which she’d attributed to nerves, but it might be hunger pangs, too. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. But that had been on the ship. Those meals had been alien.

I did okay with that.

“I’ll try,” she said. “I mean, yes.”

“I’ll be right back, then.” Was he going to prepare it? Did he cook? It seemed out of character. She would have loved to have seen the kitchen. Maybe she could do some baking while she was here. But before she could speak up, he’d disappeared down another wing.

The sky, an expansive canvas of pinks, mauves, and oranges, drew Hope closer to the window despite her unease with the floor. She normally had no fear of heights, but she’d never stood two and a half kilometers high with only a thin plate of glass preventing her from freefalling to her death. But as she gazed at the breathtaking panorama, her nervousness receded. She understood why there were no coverings on the windows. Who would block this view? This highup, nothing other than a bird could see them. Did Caradonia have birds?

Bravely, she looked down. The skyscrapers—cloudtoppers, he’d called them, sprouted from the planet’s surface like a thick forest of slender blocks, rods, and spires. Buildings glowed as lights came on in preparation for nightfall.It’s like being an angel watching over the world from a cloud.Except Krogan was no angel.

Did thegovernor-generalenjoy sitting on the top of the world staring down his nose at everyone below him? She’d bet he did.

She snorted as irony dawned.Isn’t this my luck? I fled a mayor to end up with a governor-general.

But at least this way, I’m protected by the escape clause.Although she might wish her temporary husband was more congenial, the fact he had no desire to prolong their association counted as a big plus. She wouldn’t have to worry about hurting some nice alien man’s feelings. She should be relieved.

I am relieved.I’m safe from Gleezer. He can’t touch me here. I’m not endangering anyone else.In a year, when the marriage expired, she’d return to Terra Nova, settle in a different village far away fromBloomhaven. By then, the mayor would have stopped searching for her. Hopefully.

“Dinner is ready,” Krogan spoke.

“That didn’t take long.”

She followed him into a huge dining room dwarfing a massive marblelike table surrounded by no less than twenty high-backed chairs of the same material. “Everything is big,” she commented.And wide open and vacant.

“I like space,” he said as if he’d read her mind.

He liked space in his housing and in his personal life. She might have wondered if he suffered from claustrophobia, except she remembered the windowless, doorless tubular transport. He’d had no trouble climbing into that. However, they’d only been inside a few seconds. Anything was bearable for a few seconds.Maybe it’s only relationship claustrophobia he suffers from.

Two place settings had been set at one corner where both parties could see the sunset, deep orange and crimson now. “Beautiful, just stunning,” she murmured.

“You can barely catch glimpses of it from the surface,” he said.

“So that’s why you live in a penthouse in the tallest cloudtopper—to enjoy the view while blocking it for everyone else?” The snarky comment slipped out.

If her comment annoyed him, neither his expression nor his voice revealed it as he replied, “The cloudtoppers were built long before I was born. They are a fact of life. It is a matter of choice whether one stays on the ground or rises to the top.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re wealthy.” What had gotten into her? She knew little about him, his planet, or his culture, yet she felt compelled to criticize. And wealth was relative. The person she should have taken to task was Rose. Yet, she’d never openly criticized her stepmother.

“I wasn’t when my mother abandoned me and left me to fend for myself.” He gestured for her to sit.

She winced. “I’m…sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” Could she make the situation more awkward? She sat and found the chair surprisingly comfortable. Firm, but not hard, it conformed to her spine. It gave her hope the uninviting bed wouldn’t be so bad after all.

An android bearing plates of food marched into the room. Metallic-blue and humanoid-shaped, it looked like a spacy mannequin. But instead of facialfeatures, it had two glowing scanners for eyes and what appeared to be a speaker/microphone where its mouth would have been. Capping its head was a whirling light.

“This is Don Juan—” Krogan said.

“Don Juan, really? Does he flirt with all the female androids?”

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