Braden (5 page)

Patron privacy was one thing, but she refused to let her
library be a hub for someone else’s schemes. Shareem weren’t supposed to be
able to break the law. They were docile, tame, nonviolent. Unable to commit
crimes or break rules.

But she was learning they would bend the hell out of the
rules when they wanted to.

Braden’s shoulder brushed hers as he shrugged. “You pulled
up the data for me, remember? It was about singing spheres.”

True, and the answer worked around the lie.

Elisa turned her glass on the table. “I had a call last
week, from the Ministry of Transport. They told me they’d found indication that
someone had accessed a large amount of data on cargo flights, and that the
transaction had come from my library’s restricted-access computer. The log
showed the activity at midmorning, the day you were there.”

“I wasn’t there until midafternoon,” Braden said, eyes
steady. “So why do you think it was me?”

“
My
logs show no one on the restricted computer at
the time they stated. And, strangely enough, no one at all at the time
you
were on it that afternoon. No record of anyone, or any searches.”

“Huh.” Braden was the picture of innocence. “Isn’t that interesting?”

“My terminals are all secure. Very little chance that
someone hacked their way in from outside the library.” She took a small sip of
ale and set the glass back down. “So, I told the woman from the Ministry of
Transport that I’d been doing data analysis on trends in Bor Nargan imports and
exports. For a class I teach.”

The innocent look didn’t waver. “You teach?”

“Once a week. Library systems and information science for
the university.”

Braden slanted her a smile. “I love it when you use big
words.”

“Most people think the class is boring,” Elisa said. “But
it’s necessary for the library science degree. I often do arbitrary searches to
provide examples for the class.”

“That’s lucky.”

“Yes, isn’t it?”

Braden traced the rim of his ale glass. Elisa knew good and
well that he’d accessed the information, and Braden knew she knew. But if he
didn’t acknowledge or answer her straight out, he wouldn’t have to lie. Thus
not violating his programming.

Why he’d accessed the information, Elisa couldn’t understand.
It seemed a fairly harmless search—she couldn’t see how it endangered the
people of Bor Narga or anywhere else. But if the woman from the Ministry knew a
Shareem
had been digging, then who knew what the Ministry might do? To
Braden and to Elisa.

“I found it interesting that you made certain only my
thumbprint provided access to the databases,” Elisa said.

“Yeah?”

“And interesting that you wanted to use the only terminal
capable of doing in-depth searches into select government agencies.”

Another smile and a glance that made her blood heat.
“Shareem can be very curious.”

“Also interesting that the time stamp happened when the
computer wasn’t in use at all. Only two people used that terminal that day—you
and me.”

“Funny how these things happen,” Braden said.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“You want to know what I find interesting?” Braden’s eyes
were quiet, calm and filled with something she didn’t understand. “That you
didn’t tell the nice lady at the Ministry that a Shareem had been using the
terminal that day. At any time. Why not?”

Elisa gave him an indignant look. “Because what my patrons
read or look up is none of anyone else’s business.”

“But I’m not your usual kind of patron,” Braden said.

“Yes, you are,” Elisa said, her anger rising. “By the rules,
you are. And so I protect your right to information, just as I would for any
other patron.”

Braden went silent. Elisa found herself the full focus of
his blue gaze, which locked her in place. She should be afraid of such a large,
strong man who could do anything, but she wasn’t afraid. His concentration
warmed her, made her feel somehow protected. Cushioned against the world and
any bad thing that might happen to her.

She cleared her throat. “You sent me the singing sphere as a
gift because I let you use the terminal.”

The quiet in Braden’s eyes fled, and his wicked smile
blossomed. “No, sweetheart. I sent it to you because I thought you’d like it.
Because I wanted to imagine your face when you opened the box.”

His voice wrapped warmth around her. The damp place between
her thighs grew even wetter and her nipples tightened against her silk sheath.
Braden’s gaze flicked to her breasts and his irises widened, blue filling the
white.

“Damn, I wish I could have been there to see you open the
package,” he said.

Elisa wished he could have been there too. He’d have watched
her as intently as he did now, and she’d have gasped in pleasure and flung her
arms around him in thanks. She imagined landing against his hard body, right
into his strong arms. He’d be warm and protective, and maybe he’d press a kiss
to her hair, accepting her thanks.

As though he read her thoughts, Braden reached out and
touched her cheek. The caress was light, feather-soft, but it made her blood
sing.

I should tell him to stop. I should demand to know why he
thinks he can put his hands on me without my permission.

But the touch wasn’t sexual. Was it? Elisa’s mother
sometimes touched her face. Close friends did as well, and so did her spiritual
advisor. What difference did it make?

The difference was that Braden was male, he was Shareem, and
he made Elisa’s body heat in delicious and forbidden ways.

His touch made her feel good, not dirty, not wrong—but this
was
all
wrong. He should
stop
.

Elisa didn’t want him to stop.

“Pretty librarian,” Braden said in his dark voice. “I need
to ask
you
a question.
Since you’ve already asked so many of me.”

She supposed that was fair. “Very well.”

His sensual tone fled as he chuckled. “
Very well
.
Damn, I love how you talk.”

“How I talk?”

“
Very well. Mustn’t. Library systems and information
science.
It turns me on, sweetheart.”

“Why on earth should it?”

“If you don’t know, I can’t explain.” Braden’s voice became
the seductive drawl again. “Tell me, Elisa n’Arell. Why are you celibate?
You’re not a cold woman—your body has responded to mine since the moment I met
you. So why the hell did you throw away your beautiful sensuality to meditate
on rocks? I want to know why, pretty lady.”

Goddess, he was melting her. She wanted to lay her head on
his shoulder and confess,
I don’t know. Teach me about what I’ve lost.
Please, before I die.

“It’s an honor to be welcomed into the Way of the Sky,” she
said, her standard answer. “Being an official celibate is the highest
achievement a woman on Bor Narga can reach.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Braden sensed the lie just as Elisa had
sensed his unspoken lie about the library terminal.

He leaned toward her, his arm across the back of her chair
again, the warmth and scent of him so good. “All my secrets are in a database
somewhere, for all the world to see. But I can’t look up yours, Elisa, so you
have to tell me. Pretend you’re my lady, pretty librarian, and tell your
Shareem why you don’t want his touch.”

* * * * *

On the opposite side of the hill from Pas City lay a flat
plain, and on that lay Bor Narga’s main spaceport. The landing area for
shuttles that took passengers up to the liners was far enough from the
Serestine Quarter to not bother the highborn with noise, but close enough for
their convenience. The freight docks were farther from the passenger terminals,
out of sight of the rich in the Serestine Quarter and the nouveau-riche on the
lower hill called the Vistara.

At the spaceport, a stranger stepped off a shuttle that had
come down from one of the cheaper passenger liners. He was nearly seven feet
tall, had pulled his rich brown hair into a single braid and had blue eyes. He
wore a simple tunic and leggings and carried one bag slung over his shoulder.

Inside the stadium-sized port building, he approached one of
the many vendors and bought sun-blocking robes and a breath mask, apparatus he
hadn’t needed for twenty-five years. The lush greenery of Sirius III had never
seen a sandstorm, although the mountain ranges in the southern hemisphere could
get pretty dry. But the part of Sirius where he’d lived had been soft, sweet
and quiet.

“Ident card.”

A narrow-eyed patroller stopped him. Stun gun at her waist,
handheld ready, the tall woman looked pissed off about something. Patrollers
always did.

The stranger took his ident card from his pocket and handed
it over. The woman shoved the strip into her handheld, touched the screen and
scowled. “Justin? That’s your name?”

“Ever since they hauled my baby ass out of the vat.”

“It says here that you were shipped off planet twenty-five
years ago.”

“I know that. No law that a Shareem can’t come
back
to Bor Narga, is there? I checked.”

She gave him a suspicious stare. “Why did you come back?”

Justin shrugged. “I have my reasons.”
None of which I’m
telling you.

The patroller punched a few things into her handheld before
it spit out the ident card again. “I’m calling this in,” she said, handing the
strip to him. “A Shareem returning to Bor Narga on purpose can’t be up to any
good.”

“You just keep on believing that, sweetheart.”

Justin tucked his ident card into his pocket, swirled his
sun-blocking robes over his shoulders and strode away.

Fucking patrollers. They hadn’t changed a bit.

Just as Justin stepped out of the spaceport, the sandstorm
alert went off. He and everyone else turned around and went right back into the
building.

Heavy steel doors slammed behind them and, a few seconds
later, the spaceport shook with screaming wind. Sand hit the doors and the
shielded ceiling with hurricane force.

Justin breathed a sigh as he leaned against a wall to wait it
out.

Home, sweet home.

* * * * *

Judith’s bar had mostly emptied before the sandstorm hit,
leaving Elisa, Braden and Judith alone. Judith locked down the storm doors and
went upstairs to make sure everything was secure up there.

Elisa watched a tiny wave of sand seep in under the door,
but other than that, the building seemed sturdy. She had her breath mask just
in case, but a sandstorm could strip the flesh from a person’s body within
seconds.

“Are you sure this place is airtight?” Elisa asked.

“As airtight as any bar in the slums can be,” Braden said.
“Don’t fret, love. Judith keeps her place up to code. She knows people.”

The wind pounded at the walls and sand slapped at the storm
shielding over the tiny windows.

Braden’s arm still lay across the back of her chair.
“Consider this quiet time to answer my question about your celibacy. No one
here but us. Judith is giving us space.”

“It’s personal,” Elisa said.

“Damn right it’s personal. Tell you what. If you answer a
personal question for me, I’ll answer one for you.”

“One that’s not in a database?”

He considered. “Sure.”

Elisa let out her breath and nodded. “Then that sounds
equitable.”

“
Equitable
.” Braden laughed, the sound grating like
the sand. “Oh, baby, I love the way you talk. Do you ever say
wherewithal
?”

“Sometimes.”

“I knew it.” Braden took another swallow of ale and pushed
the glass aside. “Now tell me. Why celibacy?”

Elisa had her pat answer ready.
Because I believe in the
Way. I believe in ridding the intellect of the anchor of bodily pleasures.

But for some reason, she wanted to tell Braden, if no one
else in her life, the truth.

“To get out of a bad marriage,” she said.

Braden blinked. “What? No shit.”

“No.” She gave him a little smile. “I wasn’t married yet.
Engaged. Officially. It was an arranged marriage. I was fine with it, because I
wanted to do my duty and provide an heir for the family.”

It was every highborn woman’s lot to provide an heir to take
over the family wealth. Morgan had been the perfect male for the job—right
lineage, right social circle, right friends, right everything.

“So what happened?” Braden asked.

“He was pleasant enough during the courtship and the
contract meetings. Escorted me to society functions, helped my mother, made
himself agreeable to my friends. Everyone liked him.”

“But…”

Elisa laughed a little. “Once all the contracts were signed
he turned into the most self-centered and vainglorious idiot I’d ever met. He
didn’t want to do anything with me any longer and became nasty to my friends
and family. He was a mean, petty little monster. He was already spending my
money on off-world courtesans and in gambling hells. I could have closed my
eyes to it and lived a separate life—many married couples do—but I decided I
didn’t want to waste my life and my marriage on him.”

Braden’s look turned approving. “Good for you. What a
fuckwad.”

His anger on her behalf filled Elisa with warmth. Everyone
else—her mother and friends, even those Morgan had treated like dirt—had
wondered why Elisa had minded. As long as Morgan provided her with an heir, who
cared?

“My mother was furious,” she said. “
His
parents were
furious. His family is pretty powerful, and we’d already signed all the
agreements. They threatened to sue me for breach of contract.”

“So, a fuckwad, son of fuckwads.”

“After much pondering, I decided to tell everyone the Way of
the Sky had called me. I’d chosen to give up marriage altogether to follow the
path. Once I declared myself, and a spiritual advisor approved me, I was
untouchable. Celibacy is the highest calling for a Bor Nargan woman, and no one
dares interfere with it.”