The Astronomer Read online

  As she made to get up, he placed a hand on her arm. He could feel her muscles and skin contract under his palm, ripples he noticed that shot straight to her breasts, making them peak. He knew the shiver that went through her was a painful spasm, brought on by his touch, and quickly removed his hand.

  “No, Fraya, you don’t understand.” When she looked at him, her pretty brow furrowed, he said, “Everything is paid for, everything is arranged. People have come from very far, as you have pointed out. Some have sacrificed many points. May as well give them a party.”

  “You mean carry on with the reception even if there isn’t going to be a ceremony?” She shook her head. “I’m not sure I can stand the humiliation. I don’t think I can face everyone.”

  “No,” he said slowly. He left his mug on the table and turned to look her squarely in the eyes. “I mean, I’ll take Gene’s place.”

  Her mouth dropped open and then she paled. “You mean like mate you, today, this afternoon?”

  “Yes.”

  He watched her closely. She looked shocked and confused. She didn’t express her approval of his ingenious plan, but didn’t exactly show any distaste either.

  She only said, “Gene...”

  “He’s not coming back, is he Fraya?”

  The question was rhetorical, but she said, “I know that,” in a biting way, indicating her humiliation.

  Emilio knew he was brutal, but if cruelness could convince her to agree to this crazy idea, he’d have the rest of his life to be kind to her.

  “He doesn’t love you, Fraya. He wouldn’t have done this if he did.” And Emilio believed this was true. No man who truly loved a woman would submit her to this kind of public disgrace. “I’m giving you a way out. Think about it. Everything will happen as planned. Only the groom will be different.”

  He tried to make it sound like the most natural thing in the world, but even so, he saw her eyes cloud over with doubt. When she started to chew her lip he hoped it was the first sign of consideration, the first dent in her battle armor.

  He let her digest his words, didn’t speak again, until she finally said, “But it’s impossible. It takes months to get a mating certificate.”

  “Not if you have contacts. I can have one in an hour, should I wish.”

  “You’re suggesting taking Gene’s place?” she said, as if she needed to repeat the phrase for better comprehension.

  “Yes. That way you don’t have to cancel the wedding or your plans. You can still move to Chile with me, and take up that job as planned. My citizenship will ensure yours, as Gene’s would have.”

  She blinked. “Why? Why would you do something like that?” When he didn’t answer, a look of alarm came over her features. “An arranged mating? What would you want in return?”

  “Sex,” he said levelly.

  Her big, brown eyes became huge. “You want sex from me?”

  “You find that hard to believe?”

  Her voice was unnaturally soft. “A mating is for life.”

  “Does that thought repel you, a lifetime with me?” Anger pushed up inside of him. “I’ve done my homework, just as you have. I know what we did to each other, and I know it’s for life. So, a mating would solve a very tricky situation for both of us. It would end the suffering, the torturing need.”

  She flinched. “Did you ... do you suffer?”

  “Unlike you, I didn’t have a serum fabricated to mask the truth. I suffered.”

  Even now, when he knew her life was in turmoil, he couldn’t keep the accusation from his voice. He preferred to endure it, to feel the intensity with which he craved her, whereas she had decided to trick nature and make a run for it.

  “You know about the serum?”

  “I know about a lot of things.”

  “But how?”

  “As I said, I did my homework.”

  She didn’t interrogate him as he had expected. She looked at her hands. “So you want us to enter into a contract that is binding for life in order to satisfy a mutual itch? A mating cannot be reversed, ever.”

  A mutual itch? He felt like dying and she called it a ‘mutual fucking itch’.

  “No matter who you take as mate, Fraya, no one but me will ever ease your discomfort. It’s either living like that, with the constant need, or living with me, with no more pain. Do you honestly see yourself living a watered-down version of your passion, ruled by a serum, for the rest of your life?”

  “So we mate for sex then.”

  “Yes. Sex. When I want, where I want and how I want.”

  She looked at him warily. “Is that your condition?”

  “Yes. And think about it carefully. I won’t allow you to break another promise you make me.”

  “That’s like prostitution.”

  “I prefer to call it nature. We had no control over what happened to us. Call it what you want, but that’s my proposal.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “It wasn’t so crazy when you warmed my bed a year ago. If my memory serves me right, you actually enjoyed it.”

  He had to give her credit for ignoring his remark.

  “What if you want to ... do it ... but I don’t want to have sex with you? People aren’t always ... in the mood,” she said.

  He pursed his lips together. He didn’t like that statement at all. “I won’t force you if your body shows me that you don’t want, or need. But if there are any signs that you’re turned on, I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “Signs?”

  “Yes. Signs. If your nipples are hard, your pussy wet, or if you even suck in as much as your breath, I’ll demand to have you.”

  She gasped. Already he could sense all of those ‘signs’ assaulting her, by a mere mention. And he knew how much brighter she’d burn if he could lay his hands on her. He wanted to make her scream for him.

  She swallowed. “You’re joking, right?”

  “I’ve never been more serious.”

  “But what if I don’t like it?”

  “Believe me, if you don’t like it, I’ll know.” He gave her his most wicked smile. “But for some reason I think, once I start, you’re rather going to beg me not to stop.”

  Fraya looked at him nervously. “A lifetime is very, very long. What if we can’t live together? What if we constantly fight, or hate each other? What if I change my mind, and want out?”

  He could see the fear in her eyes. She had a point. He couldn’t keep her forever, bound to him, just to his body, against her will. Unless she was happy. If she were happy, she’d stay. Could he make her love him and give her happiness? He had to try at least, for his sake, or he’ll be a living corpse for the rest of his life.

  “We’ll give it a year. After that, I’ll let you go if you want,” he said, even if it ripped his heart out to just think it. He never wanted to let her go. But he didn’t want a prisoner either. Would a year be enough for him to prove his love, to show her how good they could be together, to make her love him back?

  “A year?”

  “Yes. A year should be enough to secure your citizenship.”

  “And then you’ll let me walk away, even if we’re mated?”

  “There are some isolated cases of mates living apart, although, personally, I don’t know of any.”

  Very few mates didn’t love each other, unconditionally and profoundly. He could only hope that the same would eventually apply in their case. Law demanded that a mating was honored until one of the partners died. There was no way around it.

  “I promise that, after a year, should you wish, you could walk away and I won’t hold you to the law,” he said.

  “Free to live my life as I wish?”

  “Yes.”

  “Free-free or only half-free?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Free to do whatever, even sleep with other people?”

  His jaw clenched. His gut contracted at the thought, but he kept his voice even when he said, “Even to sleep with other people.”


  He could see her thinking, probably comparing pros and cons. He wanted to shake her and then fuck the analytical calculation from her mind, remind her how good they felt together, but he forced himself to remain still, to regard her with an air of calm he didn’t feel.

  “But what do we tell the guests?” She shook her head and jumped up. “No. No. I can’t believe I’m even considering something so utterly stupid.”

  “Stupid?” Oh, he was so going to tear that T-shirt from her body and show her stupid. Her denial, refusal of him, what their bodies needed was stupid. Crazy.

  He shrugged non-affected, even as he gritted his teeth. He couldn’t dare reveal the intensity of his feelings, unless he wanted her to bolt and run like a hunted deer.

  “It’s your call, Fraya. But you have to make it quick.” He checked his watch. “Nine hours in countdown.”

  “You’re unbelievable.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You know it wasn’t meant as a compliment.”

  “I’m sure you could sit here and think of insulting things to throw at me all day long, but time’s running out. What will it be? Giving up your dream job, or having sex with me for a year?”

  She got up slowly and started pacing the floor, her lip between her teeth, her eyes fixed on the carpet.

  “Fraya?” When she didn’t look up he repeated her name. He waited until she looked at him. “Why are you wearing my T-shirt?”

  Her eyes darted down to the faded emblem of his once-favorite piece of clothing. She pulled at the hem. “I ... just had it.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. She just had it? A small flame threatened to ignite his hope, but he squashed it. He wasn’t going to put himself up for the fool again. This time he’d take charge and remain in control. One small step at a time, until she was his, wholly and unrelenting.

  He gave her another few seconds and then he checked his watch again.

  “I’ve got to go.” He picked up the list and got up. “I see you’ve made up your mind. I’ll call from my place because I also have some work to do this morning. You take the first forty, I’ll work my way up from the bottom. What do you want me to say to everyone?”

  She stopped. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him with the look he had seen on her face when she had regained consciousness after falling into that cold stream. It was like a pair of iron hands around his heart, wrenching it dry.

  “The truth,” she finally said. “Tell them the mating’s off. That Gene got cold feet.”

  “That’s half a truth,” he said, his anger at her rejection spilling into his tone.

  She looked pained. “What else is there to explain?”

  “Let’s see. Maybe the fact that you fucked me behind Gene’s back, made promises you never intended on keeping, and don’t love Gene?”

  Her voice was little more than a whisper. “That’s not true.”

  “What are you going to tell Patrick and Rebecca? That you and Gene never loved each other? That Gene was happily banging away his ex-girlfriend while you cheated on him with his best buddy?”

  “Stop!” A sob escaped her throat. “Stop. Please.” She dared to look at him and his resolve almost wavered, but instead of giving her the words of solace he ached to, he hardened his heart. Right now, he was a manipulating bastard, but it was his only chance.

  Her shoulders slouched. In that moment, he knew she was defeated.

  “Tell them you’re my new mate,” she said softly.

  He nearly closed his eyes in relief, but only narrowed them. “Are you sure? Because I won’t let you change your mind once you’ve agreed. If it’s a yes, you will walk down that aisle at five today, and you will say yes to everything I want you to promise.”

  He thought she looked downright scared when she said, “But the promises will be a farce.”

  His anger flared again. “I’ll write my own vows, baby, and you’ll say yes to them, so think carefully about what you’re about to promise.”

  Her stance was suddenly more controlled and she seemed to be her old, calm self again. “Are you helping me, or punishing me?”

  He gave her a sardonic grin. “A bit of both, I guess. But think of it this way–my punishment will involve you being tied down and my mouth in your delicious pussy.”

  Her eyes widened. It looked as if she wanted to speak, but she only stared at him, her beautiful, pouty lips slightly parted. He watched her tummy contract. If he didn’t get out of her flat now, he was going to take her with an intensity that would scare them both, before either of them had signed any mating agreement.

  Emilio threw the list back on the table. “We need to get a move on if we’re going to get a mating certificate.” His eyes lingered on the boy shorts. He’d break any man’s neck that got a glimpse of the curve of her bottom that showed from under the cotton border of the hot pants. “You better change.”

  “Give me a minute,” she said. “I’ll change into something more appropriate.”

  There couldn’t be anything more appropriate than his T-shirt on her perfect body.

  “Fine. I’ll call Dr. Lavigne, a friend of mine. She’s got an office in town. We should be able to have a certificate within the hour. And then we’ve got to call the medical center to change your tattoo.”

  All female mates wore the family emblem of their husbands on their left wrist, as a symbol of commitment. The only exchange would be the gifts they would hand each other as a token of their love during the ceremony. There was so much he wanted to give her. But he couldn’t think of anything that would match the gift she was going to give him–his name on her wrist, proving to the world, and himself, that she was his. But what he wanted from her most, was for her to love him like he loved her, and in order for her to do that, she first had to admit to everything she had been denying up to now, starting with the fact that she needed him. Didn’t she know he could see it in the very way her body trembled?

  “You need me. I can see it,” he said, voicing his thoughts.

  “I don’t,” she said stubbornly, hugging herself.

  “If you’re in pain, I can fix that now, Fraya. You only have to say the word.”

  “I don’t need you to fix anything. This is only a hormonal imbalance, so don’t flatter yourself.”

  Yes, maybe it was only a physical need as far as Fraya was concerned, but his wanting ran a lot deeper, and he was sure that hers would too, if she’d only let it. They’d start by eliminating that damn hormone treatment. As long as she used it to lessen her desire for him, she’d never admit to him, or to herself, how much she needed him.

  He saw a repeated shiver run over her body, but steeled himself as he watched her leave the room. Yes, he wanted to give her the world, but he also needed to take. He needed her more than he ever needed anything in his life. She will learn to love him. But first, he had to tame his obstinate mate. Revenge was going to be sweet ... and hot.

  Chapter Nine

  Fraya was filled with nervous dread. Was she really selling her body for survival, for her dream job? Deep down she knew it was more than that, but she couldn’t allow herself to go there. Instinctively, she knew examining the subject would force her to face feelings she had sworn could never exist. Besides, Emilio still hated her for her uncontrollable error. He probably looked forward to revenge himself once they were mated, and she was wicked for how she suddenly wished to define ‘revenge’.

  They didn’t speak much as Emilio drove them downtown to an expensive looking office block. Fraya recognized it as a medical building with private offices. It was built of sandstone with tan slates framing the windows. Egyptian paper reeds grew in the soil trays on the balconies, simultaneously serving a decorative and clever, functional purpose by forming a natural exterior curtain. The rooms would be spacious and inviting, not like those clinical ones in the government stack offices where everything was grey and bare.

  Fraya watched Emilio warily as he led her inside the building and into the lift. A part of
her wanted him like nothing else, not even her dream job, but another part of her worried that she’d lose herself so deeply in him that there would be no saving her. He had the power to destroy her, if she let him. An arranged mating ... nothing but sex. He said so himself. She held onto whatever logic she could. It made physical sense. They needed each other. But her intuition warned her that this path would eventually bring her to a choice, him or giving up everything she’d ever worked for, and she wasn’t sure that it was a choice she could make. She didn’t believe in love. With Gene she didn’t have to. They were friends, partners. The problem was that with Emilio, she wanted to believe in it, and that thought alone should have her running as fast as she could.

  They exited on the top floor and stopped in front of a door with Dr. Lavigne’s name on a brass plaque. Emilio had his palm firmly on her back, as if he was worried that she’d run away. He knocked and opened the door without waiting for a reply. His touch made her shiver and once he had guided her into the consulting room he was considerate enough to remove his hand. Even after one year Fraya still battled to accept what Claudia St. Clair had first told her. Standing in Doctor Lavigne’s office reminded Fraya of that day, when she discovered the truth about what Emilio had done to her body.

  The woman who sat behind the old-fashioned mahogany desk had bright red hair and freckles that dusted her dainty nose. Instead of the traditional overcoat, she wore a red, fitted dress. Chunky silver jewelry completed her outfit, giving her an artistic air. Despite the old-fashioned black frame glasses she didn’t look very old, and when she offered Emilio a warm smile, regarding Fraya with curiosity, Fraya felt a disturbing pang of jealousy.

  The doctor got up and Emilio moved forward to kiss her on her cheek. “Thank you for seeing us on short notice, Marguerite.”

  “Indeed,” she said, her voice warm and deep. Her English carried a heavy French accent. “It sure is a strange request.”

  “A bit of a hasty decision,” Emilio said. He turned to Fraya. “This is Dr. Lavigne.”

  The doctor extended her hand and shook Fraya’s. “Call me Marguerite. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”