Chapter 33

Mack studied the woman lying under him, her pale hair soft and wispy against his pillow. The colors in her eyes shifted. Green with decidedly lavender flecks. He remembered thinking that-along with his unprofessional assessment that she was beautiful.

She was. She was also Gillaine, Kiasidira, Ciran Rothalla Davré. His Gillaine. His Gillie. His somewhat accidental Goddess and his very enthusiastic lover. She twined her arms around his neck. Their skin was still damp from their lovemaking. "Hi."

"Hi, yourself," he answered with a grin.

"Amazing."

"Thank you. I do try."

She cuffed the back of his head lightly. "Be careful. You're starting to sound like Simon. I wasn't talking about the way you make love to me. That is, and always has been, more than amazing. Perfect."

He brushed a kiss across her mouth. "So who's amazing?"

"Not who. What. It's been three hours and no commbadges have pinged and no alarms have wailed."

"Ah, that. Rank does have its privileges, My Lady. I left strict orders with Adler that we not be interrupted until we're within visual range of Cirrus One. Now if only I could find a way to shut off that damn music."

"Music?"

"Can't you hear it? It's like someone's humming the Raheiran Wedding Song, over and over again."

Gillie squeezed her eyes shut. Simon!

Yes, My Lady. A sock. I'm searching for a sock right now...