He collapsed on top of her, although he kept his full weight off her frame. Both breathing hard, hot, sweaty, happy, they lay together with their limbs entwined, his semi hard shaft still buried in her soft folds.
“You’re not going to get all official on me and take yourself off duty as my bodyguard, are you?” she asked eventually, taking an affectionately teasing tone, stroking her hand over his flat abdomen and tracing the outline of his muscles as he rolled onto his side and his cock slipped from her body. “Because I don’t want anyone else to protect me.”
“I should,” he said, toying with the unruly curls falling in wild profusion on the pillow. His smile was proud, content, satisfied, all of which made her happy. “But since my primary function is to deter conspiracy theorists and to ensure you don’t suffer any PTSD incidents, I think I can justify keeping the assignment. I’d be jealous if someone else took over. Not to mention it’d be awkward making love to you with one of my fellow officers on duty out there. Verlaine in the next room is bad enough.”
Gianna laughed at the comical face he made to go with his comment about her service animal. “Hey, he showed absolutely no interest in what we were up to. I think maybe he appreciated the time off.”
“Oh we’re not done yet,” Trevor said with a wicked grin. “Unless you’re too tired? Or sore? I’m full of inventive ideas for entertaining you, my special lady.”
“Do tell.” She wriggled her hips. “I might be harboring a few plans of my own, you know.”
He lowered his head to kiss her tenderly and Gianna sighed with happiness as she relaxed into his embrace, ready for more.
The night was long and full of happiness but eventually they fell asleep, spooned tightly together. When Gianna woke up, her head was pillowed on Trevor’s shoulder and he was watching her with a tender expression on his face. “All good? No bad dreams?” he asked.
“All wonderful,” she answered in a burst of enthusiasm. “This is going to be a terrific day—I can tell.”
“As your official escort, let me remind you we have the cargo hold tour today, at ten, and we’d better not be late. The cargo master is doing me a huge favor—he doesn’t like unauthorized guests to his area.”
“I’m authorized,” she said. “Captain Fleming approved it.”
“Even the captain treads lightly where Owen is concerned. A cargo master as exceptional as he is can make or break a ship, and trust me, Owen does very well indeed for the Nebula Zephyr.”
“I remember a lot of boring talk about cargo when I was with Nick and Mara while we were trying to escape the ship,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I amused myself in other ways.”
“Such as?”
Feeling rather triumphant, eyebrows raised, she said, “The grownups let me go through the open suitcases and things and I played dress up with fabulous clothes and furs and sparkly shoes. Probably partly why I love extravagant dresses and shoes to this day.”
He repressed a grin as he shook his head. “Trust me, Owen will not allow you to pilfer other passengers’ luggage, no matter what Captain Fleming might have said.”
“No need. I did my shopping at the stores, yesterday. We should order breakfast—are you hungry?”
“Starved. But I need to go to my cabin at some point. I can’t show up at the cargo hold wearing last night’s shirt and pants.” Trevor looked appalled at the idea.
“Eat with me and then I’ll shower and get dressed while you’re gone,” she said, understanding his qualms. “Be sure to pick me up in time to get to the cargo hold.”
“Sounds like a plan. And then this afternoon we can go to the beach for a while, if you’d like. Be good for Verlaine to run and chase balls.”
She stretched lazily, happy he and Verlaine got along so well. Truth be told she got bored throwing sticks and balls for the hound to chase, because he never got tired of the game, so it was nice to have a new person to help satisfy Verlaine’s instincts for retrieval of items. “I like your ideas. And then it’s dinner with the captain tonight.”
“And a few other guests, like Juli and Dr. Shane and my boss. Which reminds me, you have an appointment with the doctor today, right?”
The reminder dimmed her joy a little. Talking to the doctor had seemed like a good idea at the time but today she was far from having a flashback or any problem, being content and serene as a result of their lovemaking. She didn’t want anything to intrude on her good mood. Nibbling her lip, she pondered. Probably no good, tactful way to break the appointment. “Oh that’s right. Just to chat though. I think there’s enough time to get everything done before the dinner.”
“And the rest of the cruise you can paint and shop and go to the beach, try your luck at the casino again, whatever you like,” he said as if offering a slate of rare treats, which in actuality he was, compared to her normal daily routine. “The cargo hold is our last stop on the pseudo memory tour, right?”
“There is one more thing I want to see,” she said, drawing circles in the comforter with her fingertip. “But I haven’t decided for sure yet.”
“You said you didn’t go to the engine room—”
“I didn’t and that’s not the place anyway. Please don’t ask me, all right?” She left the bed and grabbed her robe. “I’ll put in the breakfast order.”
He was all business as they descended the gravlift toward Level Eighteen and the first cargo hold, but inside he felt fizzy and happy in a way he hadn’t been for years. Trevor was used to hiding his emotions from others and although Verlaine kept swinging his head to study him, he felt he was doing okay. The night in Gianna’s arms had been heaven, beyond what he’d visualized. Of course there was no guarantee what might come next. He decided not to worry about the future right now and simply accept the happiness.
She stepped onto the platform as easily as if she’d been crewing interstellar ships for decades, instead of having had the frightening experience as a child and a few trips in the past few days. Trevor followed her and they entered the cargo hold, pausing about a yard inside the gigantic space. There was a lot of activity, containers being moved and shifted according to a grand logistical scheme only the cargo master and his crew understood.
“Maeve, tell Owen we’re here, would you?” Trevor asked.
“No need, he’s well aware and coming in a minute,” she said.
Sure enough, the impressively huge officer left the small office and headed in their direction.
“What are those?” Gianna asked, with a chuckle, pointing at the two creatures scampering alongside the man, ruining the dignified picture he presented.
“Moby the ship’s cat and Midorri the ship’s pet,” Trevor said as Verlaine rose to his feet and barked a greeting.
The cat and the six legged fluffy alien beast circled the hound, after which the feline sat with her back to all of them and bathed one paw elegantly in disdain. Midorri scrambled her way up Verlaine’s front leg and settled on his spine, legs splayed over the Tajikka’s sides, emitting a purring sound.
“I guess Midorri found a friend,” the cargo master said as he reached them. Holding out one huge hand, he introduced himself to Gianna. “Owen Embersson, at your service, although I have to tell you I don’t get many passengers down here.”