Trisk’s eyes widened, and she stared at him.
“Ulbrine said that he’d make the introductions,” Kal gushed, his words falling over themselves in his effort to get them out before she shut him down. “I know at the very least they’ll want to hear about your work in developing a universal donor virus. I can see hints of it in Daniel’s work, and it can’t be allowed to falter here in a human-run lab.”
NASA? Trisk thought, shocked. Ulbrine would introduce her to someone in NASA?
From the office shack came a whoop of alarm, and then a clattering crash. Kal chuckled, and her eyes flicked from the direction of Saladan’s continuing bellow of anger to Kal. His eyes were glinting with mischief, and she remembered that tiny charm he’d flicked at the witch. “What was it?” she asked as Kal ducked his head and hid a grin.
“Remember how clumsy you were your freshman year?” he said as he looked up.
Her smile vanished. “That was you?” she said as two fieldhands poked their heads into the office, then shouted for some help.
Beaming, Kal took her hands, almost pulling her off balance as he went down on one knee in a mocking, overdone show. He was being charmingly submissive, and damn it if it wasn’t working. “I am so, so sorry,” he blurted. “You have no idea. I was such an ass.”
“Get up,” she muttered, pulling him to his feet before the three fieldhands running to help Saladan could see. “I might forgive you if you teach it to me.”
Kal gave her hands a squeeze before he let go and opened her truck door for her. “Maybe over dinner?” he asked as she pulled the door shut with a familiar, rattling thump.
She felt safe there, liking the way he was looking at her. And she wanted to belong, liked hearing him say he was sorry. Daniel is going to freak out that his name is going to be on his virus. “Okay,” she said, but even as he beamed, promising to pick her up at the office at six, she didn’t believe him.
The scars went too deep.
10
Kal sat on the edge of the couch in the greenroom, not comfortable consigning himself entirely to the soft cushions that had cradled an unknown number of nervous, sweaty guests. He knew his favorite suit made him look especially trim and as if he owned the world, but he wanted to look better than good for his first press release, even if it wasn’t his product.
Trisk looked amazing in her gray business skirt and matching top, the silver threads running through it elevating her sophistication even as the gold helix necklace and metallic-tipped, blunt-toed heels she wore boosted her feminine charms. Her long hair, which she usually kept back in a loose clip, had been bound into a tight, no-nonsense bun that accentuated her cheekbones. But it was her calm that surprised him the most as she stood at the table and made him a cup of tea. To Kal, she looked better in her minimal makeup and honest beauty than Heather, the overpainted, over-accessorized host of the show.
Across the room, Rick flirted with the young sound tech, the man completely overwhelmed by the lanky vampire’s charms. Saladan watched with thinly veiled disgust from the opposite corner, slumped in his chair with one thin ankle on the other knee. A cast poked out from the cuff of his black suit coat. Kal had watched him go through two cigarettes in fifteen minutes. Either he was as nervous as a cat in the dog pound, or he was using the smoke to block the vampiric pheromones Rick was pumping into the air as he toyed with the sound tech.
Kal’s attention shifted as Trisk’s heels clicked on the tile floor. “Here you go,” she said as she handed Kal a mug with the station’s logo on it. “You can give it a try, but honestly, I think the water has been sitting since morning.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Kal said as he took a sip. The bitter tea hit the back of his throat and he forced himself to swallow. “On second thought, I don’t need any caffeine,” he said with a smile. “Not that badly.” Shuddering, he set it out of his easy reach. “Thanks anyway.”
Sighing, she sat down on the couch, surprising him when her weight almost slid him into her. The scent of cinnamon rose from her like a perfume. Only elves rich in power smelled like that. How had he never noticed before? But then again, it had only been the last few days that she’d let him get that close. Their bonding over Saladan’s slights at the farm last week had led to six dates—six dates at the pace of a thawing glacier. Trisk wasn’t cold, but she wasn’t forthcoming, either, and he found he enjoyed the challenge.
“Any more caffeine, and I’ll get the shakes,” she said as she looked at the coffee-stained side table with its mugs and sugar cubes. “Daniel asked me out for lunch today afterward. You don’t mind, do you? He wanted to talk to me about something.” Her brow furrowed. “He should be here by now. He said he wanted to watch the show.”
“No, I don’t mind,” he said distantly, wondering if the awkward man was going to try to make a last-ditch play for her. Maybe he should address that. “It’s not like we’re going steady.” He hesitated for a telling moment. “Are we?”
Trisk visibly colored, clearly caught off balance. “Uh, I don’t know,” she said, then turned to Rick’s infectious laugh.
“I can’t keep track of the little thing,” Rick said as he half spun, the cord from the state-of-the-art mic dangling from one hand. “I’m so sorry. Perhaps if I remove my jacket,” he added as he handed the mic to the technician. Groaning sensually, he slipped his jacket off, stretching his shoulders and tossing his silky, wavy hair to make the tech blink in consternation. Clearly Rick was enjoying himself, and Kal smirked as Saladan watched in a high-eyebrow question.