reign, this was only the beginning. Changes would be coming—some good, some ill—but change was certain. If this was the time prophesied all those thousands of years ago.
“Tigh, we must prepare ourselves, if what we suspect is true.” Torm gripped Tigh’s arm urgently.
“Yes, old friend. But tonight, we dine with the Velkir-y and her crew. It is the first step in getting to know them. The first step of many on what promises to be a long and winding path.”
“Goddess only knows where it will lead us.”
Ginny was kept busy all day, preparing reports and readying those who would replace her on Commandant Michael’s staff, now that she was definitely leaving with Tigh. She also spent time in meetings with Michael and several of the high councilors. They gave her advice on a multitude of subjects, each with their own individual perspectives. Most wanted her to gather intelligence on the true state of the jit’suku people, their defense capabilities, and the status of their fleet.
While there hadn’t been any attacks over the past several standard months, few were willing to accept that the war was truly over. There hadn’t been one final decisive battle to end it. For many, the lack of such a confrontation was troubling.
But Ginny was more than willing to give Tigh the benefit of the doubt, at least for the time being. She was coming to trust him in ways she never would have believed just a standard week before. Whether her judgment was impaired by the intensely physical relationship they shared, she couldn’t judge. She knew her objectivity was off when it came to Tigh. She accepted that as a consequence of their new relationship, though she tried desperately to keep her eyes open for any suspicious behavior.
After all, it wasn’t all that long ago since they had been bitter enemies. Enough jit’suku captains had tried to kill her that she was wary of any and all overtures from Tigh’s people. Yet, somehow, she couldn’t apply the same standards to him. It was as if her heart just wouldn’t let her see him as an enemy, even though her mind knew he now ruled over all the jit’suku forces.
Dinnertime came all too soon. Ginny rushed back to her quarters to freshen up and change into civilian clothes, but Tigh was there before her. He caught her off guard, pulling her into his arms as she entered the suite.
“I missed you,” he growled against her cheek before swooping in for a long, hard kiss.
Ginny couldn’t disagree with that sentiment. She welcomed his kiss enthusiastically, returning his ardor kiss for sweet kiss, lick for exciting lick, touch for arousing touch. Before she knew it, they were prone on the floor, just inside the door, and Tigh had half her clothes off. His own clothing followed close behind, flung across the room in wild abandon, the only concern on both of their minds how to get skin on skin as quickly and completely as possible.
They came together fast and hard. Ginny was breathless with desire as Tigh joined their bodies together. There was no waiting. No finesse. Just a stark fury of need. She felt it just as strongly as he apparently did because it took only a few powerful thrusts before she was keening on the edge of total insanity.
She cried out as she came, and a moment later, he joined her, groaning as her name fell from his lips. She might’ve blacked out for a moment, because the next thing she knew, Tigh was lifting her in his strong arms, carrying her toward the bed. He placed her on it, but she sat up, recalling her schedule prior to this unplanned—and very pleasurable—interlude.
“What time is it?” She looked at her chronometer, cursing at the numbers she read there. “Damn. We’re going to be late.”
As it turned out, Ginny and Tigh walked in only a few minutes late to the dinner she’d set up earlier. She was on the receiving end of a few pointed looks from her crew, but if the men gave Tigh any guff, it was well hidden. Or, perhaps, his guys were too well disciplined to let their thoughts show.
All of Tigh’s men were warriors born while Ginny’s crew were women who had chosen to do other things with their lives before the virus. They’d turned to soldiering as a second choice, in a crisis, and it was probably easier for them to remember how to be civilians than it was for the