back with one hand while the other gripped one of the knives she’d noticed earlier.
“Whoa! Whoa!” A’shar cautioned with his raised hands. The triangular shaped ears on the top of his bald head wiggled.
“It’s okay, Sulen,” Amelie rushed out. “This is A’shar.”
A’shar who outweighed Sulen by a hundred pounds and was a good foot taller yet Sulen hadn’t hesitated in his defensive stance.
With a disgruntled look, Sulen eased back into his seat. Fleur had no such reservations and leaped across Sulen’s lap to reach for A’shar. “Baba!”
After carefully checking to see how Sulen would react, A’shar picked Fleur up. He cradled her daughter in his meaty grip and nuzzled her with his protruding snout. The gold rings dangling from both ears swayed as he rocked Fleur from side to side in their ritual greeting.
A’shar lifted his head and winked at Amelie. “I will take her to the back for a bit. We miss her.”
We being his bond mate, Ria. Amelie flicked her fingers in approval and A’shar lumbered off, the floor vibrating in his wake. It was amazing how silent he could be when he wanted. As to missing Fleur, Amelie found the claim amusing since they were here once a week if Fleur could wheedle the trip out of Amelie. Sometimes to eat and other times to visit her fwends as she called them.
Amelie sighed once she and Sulen were alone again. “As you can see, he took to her. Told me to come in after work every day for a break because he and his bond mate had no kids by choice but loved having a baby around. One week became a month and then a year until it became a routine. There isn’t a staff member here, from the cleanup crew to the cook, who hasn’t rocked Fleur to sleep or soothed her when crying at least once. Probably more.”
Sulen leaned back, his booted feet bracketing her legs. She couldn’t read his expression as he stared. Shifting about, she reached for her water and took a healthy sip.
“You’ve made this place your home,” he finally said, drumming the fingers of one hand on the table.
Amelie studied the broad hand, his thick fingers with the multiple scars across the back of his knuckles. There was a thin trail of hair at the base of his wrist that disappeared into the sleeve of his coat. She wondered how far the hair went.
He tapped a single finger hard once and Amelie’s head snapped up to be caught in his stare. His gaze heated, the swirling desire there unmistakable. His nostrils flared as he leaned forward. “That’s why you came here. Created the story about already having a bond mate. You wanted a home.”
Amelie needed to clear her throat to speak without rasping her words while her body throbbed and pushed for her to act on the arousal tingling in her nipples and between her thighs. Being attracted to the faceless Gerelin Scarlett assigned as her fake mate wasn’t something she had considered. There was something about his commanding figure pulling her toward him.
It was hard to hold his stare but Amelie did. “Yes. I wanted a home. Colony guidelines specifically state residency will only be granted to Gerelins or their direct family members unless you have an exception like a job in high demand that can’t be done by a community member.”
“Why me?”
That explanation was longer and would implicate Scarlett. Amelie firmed her lips and didn’t speak.
“Do you know what I would usually do to someone—”
“Here you go.” A server set several plates overflowing with their food on the table and vanished.
***
Sulen controlled his frustration. There were too many interruptions here. He wanted to know what she’d done to bond them. How she’d formed the connection when he’d been far away on another world. It was indisputable that they were connected. The bonding scars on her neck were fake but the thin rope letting him sense her presence in the dim corner of his mind was real.
Amelie pulled her plate toward her and maneuvered another in front of Sulen. He glanced down and a frown pulled at his lips. What was this?
Amelie snickered and he looked up. She pointed with her eating utensil. “Those green things are arii, a leafy vegetable sourced here, the red is maaza, also a vegetable. The blu—”
This looked like a child’s portion of red, green and blue foods tossed together. He interrupted her to snarl, “Is everything on my plate a vegetable?”
Tongue in cheek, Amelie