Page 39 of Wayfinder
“It’s a simple plan. Jala will have my skiff prepped and waiting in a remote section of the dock. Praxxan will ensure the dock remains as deserted as possible by diverting most of the guards for the Duke’s dinner. We’ll need about fifteen minutes to make it from the kitchen to the dock. We’ll wait until everyone has gotten a taste of your cooking and are too enraptured to think of anything else.”
I took a step closer, the need to touch him becoming achy and hot. “I guess it was a good idea to tell Baron Oappo that I needed your help in the kitchen during the dinner.”
“Yes, it was.” He took another step, then frowned and stopped. “How many others will help?”
“Deema and Aqsa and a couple of other harem girls. Why?”
“How do you think they will react when we leave? Will they cover for us?” A crease grew between Jutuk’s brows.
“I don’t think they’d cover for us, exactly, but they won’t question whatever excuse we give them,” I told him honestly. “It’s not them I’m worried about, though. The Baron will have servers, guards, and God knows who else roaming around the night of the dinner. How are we going to get past them without someone raising a stink?”
“Hmmm.” Jutuk finally made it to my side, but his only touch was the feather-light caress of his finger against my cheek before he walked past me and headed toward the storage area.
“What?” I asked, following.
“Jala showed me the schematics of the space station,” Jutuk grinned at me over his shoulder just before swinging open the large metal door.
The room was about as large as my bedroom back on earth. Shelves hugged the walls, filled with crates of alien flour, vegetables, and some odd alien cooking implements I’d never been able to figure out.
Jutuk paused in the center of the room, sliding away a stack of crates with the push of his foot and revealing a small square indention in the floor. “This is a trapdoor that leads down to a secondary loading area.” He grinned at me, the amusement on his face vanishing as his eyes surveyed the remainder of the room, coming to land on a small area in the back.
“It’s a cot,” I admitted as his gaze focused on the small metal contraption piled with blankets and pillows. “Sometimes, I get so involved in the kitchen that I forget to sleep."
The golden eyes shifted back to me, the affection in his gaze making my blood boil.
“My beautiful, perfect Pearl.”
Jutuk pulled me close, his lips urgent and hungry. His hands roamed eagerly over my body, tracing every curve and dip before coming to rest on my breasts with a gentle squeeze.
The heat between us was palpable—a living, breathing thing fueled by desire that had been building for far too long. I shifted my hips, pressing closer, and felt the weight of his need like an iron bar against my stomach. I couldn’t help but wonder why Jutuk didn’t claim me last night instead of seeing only to my pleasure. I squirmed against him and felt the heat of arousal throb against me, wanting me just as much as I wanted him.
“Jutuk, I want you.”
My words were barely a whisper against his lips, yet he jerked as though hearing a primal command he could not disregard.
At least until we heard the kitchen door open.
Jutuk froze, holding me tight against his chest as the sounds of a delivery echoed through the room.
Jutuk sighed into my hair as the movements of the unwelcome visitor faded away. “I think we need to pick this up when we have a bit more privacy.”
“I agree,” I murmured, sighing in disappointment.
I started toward the kitchen, making it as far as the door before Jutuk stopped me. His arms went around my waist to pull me back against his broad chest as he nuzzled my neck. I relaxed against him, feeling more content than I’d ever felt in my life.
“So....” I began hesitantly. I’d always been a bold woman. You didn’t make it as far in my career as I had without a certain amount of chutzpah. Yet, even knowing the words I wanted to say, my tongue found it difficult to wrap around the verbiage. I wasn’t just risking my reputation in my kitchen. This time, I risked my heart.
“What happens after the rescue?”
“We rendezvous with the Bardaga.” Jutuk sounded confused, and I turned my head to smile at him. We discussed most of this last night, at least on a surface level.
“I know that. I was just thinking long term. You said I could stay on the Bardaga if I wanted.”
“Of course.” Jutuk grinned and kissed my cheek. “You can duel with Orzon to see who gets to be head chef.”
I laughed despite his obtuseness. “I’m not talking about that.” I felt as awkward as a teenager, but I had to know if I could risk my heart. “I mean about us.”
“Us?” Jutuk’s voice softened in a way that made my insides grow warm.
