Since he knew hugs were acceptable, he eagerly wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “Good night, Eliana.”
Despite her diminutive size, she felt good against him. The desire that had been flirting with him intensified, almost daring him to risk offending her by letting his hands stray. He was a hair away from giving in to the impulse when she released him, turned away without looking at him, and entered her room.
The door slid closed between them.
Well, drek.
Eliana hesitated when she reached the door to the bridge. She had come damned close to doing something stupid last night. Or maybe something awesome.
She growled softly. Would it have been stupid or awesome?
Much to her frustration, she couldn’t tell.
She had spent centuries treading lightly around Immortal Guardian males on Earth. Most were as lonely as she and wished they could find a woman who would love them enough to spend eternity with them. But none of them had knocked her socks off or heated her blood the way Dagon did. So she had always carefully kept all contact casual.
Once she’d left Earth, she had then spent four months around Lasaran men who looked at her as if she had just flashed her bare breasts if she so much as brushed against them while walking down a hallway. And now that she very much wanted to push past casual contact and pursue greater intimacy with a man, she found herself beset with annoying doubts and insecurities.
Add to that the fact that she knew little to nothing about his culture (apparently personal data tablets didn’t come with a nice list of clear-cut societal guidelines because the crew already knew them) and didn’t want to do anything that might break any rules or offend him or anyone else on this ship and…
Yeah. She didn’t know what the hell she was doing.
Or rather, she didn’t know what the srul she was doing.
Sighing, she placed her palm on the reader. The door slid up. As soon as she entered the bridge, her gaze went straight to Dagon.
Glancing over, he smiled, his handsome face lighting up.
Holy hell, it made her feel good when he did that. Just one smile and warmth filled her, her lips stretched in a grin, and happiness bubbled up inside her.
She was so freaking smitten. “Hi.”
He rose. “Hello.”
She offered the rest of the crew a wave. “Hi, guys.”
“Eliana,” they chorused, making her feel like Norm on the sitcom Cheers.
Dagon retrieved the chair she had been using and plunked it down beside his. “You missed first meal.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I know. I had trouble sleeping last night.” Too busy picturing him naked. “So I woke later than usual.” When he frowned, she headed off whatever he intended to say by holding up her tablet and a bag of jarumi nuggets. “Don’t worry. I came prepared.”
He laughed.
The two of them settled into their seats. The rest of the crew had grown accustomed to her presence, it would seem, because far fewer curious glances alighted upon her as she allowed herself the luxury of leaning against Dagon’s arm while she situated her tablet on her lap and opened her bag of snacks.
What did he make of her leaning against him like this? He never complained. If anything, she thought it amused him, or perhaps the initial astonishment of his crew amused him. Eliana would’ve worried that he might simply view her as a little sister since she was so much shorter than most Segonian women if she hadn’t felt his body respond to hers last night when she hugged him, which was what had led to her picturing him naked and had kept her up half the night.
She fought the urge to roll her eyes at herself. As if she hadn’t already been picturing him naked. Dagon had a seriously drool-worthy body. But the fact that he hadn’t acted on the lust his body had divulged made her doubt even more the wisdom of throwing caution to the wind, kissing the stuffing out of him, and making her own desire known.
Wouldn’t he have tried to cop a feel by now if such was acceptable in his society?
Calling herself a wuss for not simply asking him, she devoted her attention—or most of it anyway—to studying one diagram of the ship after another on her tablet while she munched the tasty jarumi nuggets. She was determined to learn every inch of this massive ship. Like the Segonians, she would learn from mistakes of the past.
Fortunately, she had an excellent memory. Not as excellent as Ethan’s. That fun-loving American Immortal Guardian could remember every second of every minute he had ever lived with crystal clarity. He even remembered the day he was born.
She frowned. Perhaps if her memory were as freakishly sharp as Ethan’s, she would remember Ganix helping her before he died. Perhaps she would remember exactly how he had died. What if she had roused briefly and just couldn’t recall it?
Guilt twisted her stomach into a knot whenever she thought of the Kandovar’s chief engineer. Ganix wasn’t the first man who had died trying to protect her. One of her Seconds had done the same long ago. She had vowed then that it would never happen again. Yet it had. Because she hadn’t understood enough about her new environment. Nor had she known enough about how battles were fought out here in space or how the ships worked. Even knowing what the walls were made of, how thick they were, and which ones provided the best protection might have enabled her to save Ganix’s life. Instead, his body lay in cryostasis, awaiting delivery to Lasara for burial.
“Eliana?” Dagon spoke softly.
She glanced up.
“Your eyes are glowing,” he murmured.
Swearing, she squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten before opening them. “What about now?”
“They’re brown again.”
“Thank you.” She glanced around, relieved that none of the crew had noticed the slip.
“What troubles you?” Dagon prompted, keeping his voice low.
She shook her head. “Just… thinking about Ganix again and wishing I could’ve saved him.”
Nodding his understanding, he leaned a little closer, offering silent solace.
Tilting her head until it rested against his biceps, Eliana went back to studying the ship.
Hours passed. She and Dagon shared mid meal. Then the two parted ways as had become their habit. Eliana watched him walk away, admiring every loose stride and the ripple of muscle beneath his uniform. Just before he reached the curve at the end of the hallway, he glanced back.
Smiling, she waved and started walking backward.
He grinned and waved back, then disappeared from view.
Resolution filled her.
Spinning around, Eliana took off down the hallway, picking up speed until she was running.
Moments later, she burst into Med Bay. “Adaos! I need you!”
Across the room, Chief Medical Officer Adaos jumped and spun around. Something clattered to the floor behind him as he eyed her with alarm.
“What is it? Are you injured?” He gave her a swift once-over. “Is someone else injured?” Bending, he grabbed a medic bag stashed beneath the table and strode toward her. “How many are hurt? Where are they?”
Another man in a medic uniform grabbed a second bag and stepped forward, brow furrowing with concern.
Chagrin swept through her. “No one is injured,” she hastened to assure them. “I’m sorry I startled you both.” She looked to Adaos. “There’s just something I need to discuss with you.”