Page 17

Chapter Seventeen

"T he eastern quarter's water supply issues have been resolved," K’Nar reported, his stylus scratching against parchment as he made notes. "The engineers believe the new reclamation system should prevent further shortages through the dry season."

Linnea nodded, attempting to focus on his words while her mind stubbornly drifted elsewhere. The morning light streamed through the high tower windows, casting long shadows across her office and illuminating the dust motes that danced in the air. Usually, she found comfort in these morning briefings—the orderly recitation of problems solved and tasks completed provided structure to her days as chancellor.

But today, she could barely concentrate on governance when her body still hummed with memories of the night before.

"Chancellor?" K’Nar's voice pulled her reluctantly back to the present. "Did you hear what I said about the artisans' tax petition?"

"Of course," she lied, straightening in her chair. "I think we should approve the extension, given the circumstances."

K’Nar's eyebrows rose slightly. "I was actually recommending that we deny it, considering their third quarter profits."

She bit the inside of her cheek, annoyed at her own distraction. "Yes, that's what I meant. Deny the petition."

Her adjunct studied her with barely concealed curiosity. No doubt he was still puzzling over the scene he'd walked in on last night—the disheveled room, the tension between her and the Dothvek ambassador, the hastily contrived argument.

If he only knew the truth. If he could see the marks Zexx had left on her skin, hidden now beneath her formal robes. If he could read the thoughts that kept intruding on her attempts to govern...

His hands on her waist, strong enough to bruise but gentle in their exploration…

The heat of his mouth against her throat…

The thickness of him inside her, his eyes locked with hers as he stretched her…

She shook her head sharply, banishing the images. This had to stop. Whatever madness had taken hold of her last night could be nothing more than a momentary lapse, a forbidden fling. She was chancellor of the Cresteks, responsible for an entire city and a fragile peace. If her people discovered she was sleeping with the enemy—with a Dothvek warrior, of all things—there would be chaos. The peace was too new for her people to accept their leader with a former enemy. Even if the common people could be convinced to accept it, her more conservative council would not.

Or worse.

"Is there anything else I should know?" she asked K’Nar, forcing herself back to the business of leadership.

"Just one matter," he replied, consulting his notes. "The Dothvek ambassador has requested an audience this morning to discuss his official duties."

Her heart stuttered in her chest. "Has he? When?"

As if summoned by her question, a knock sounded at the door. K’Nar moved to answer it, and she used the brief moment to compose herself, straightening her silver robes and schooling her features into what she hoped was an expression of calm authority.

All her efforts shattered the moment Zexx stepped through the doorway.

He hadn't bothered with a tunic today, his golden chest bare and gleaming in the morning light, his black skin ink on full display. The hard ridges of muscle that she'd traced with her fingers and lips the night before were now exposed for anyone to see, a blatant reminder of his otherness—his Dothvek nature that flaunted Crestek conventions of propriety.

K’Nar's eyes widened comically, his gaze darting between them as if trying to determine the appropriate protocol for a half-naked ambassador.

"Ambassador Zexx," she managed, her voice steadier than she felt. "I wasn't expecting you quite so soon."

"Chancellor," he replied, his deep voice sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. "I wished to discuss my duties."

K’Nar cleared his throat. "Shall I stay for the meeting, Chancellor?"

"That won't be necessary," Zexx answered before she could, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Our discussion is…sensitive in nature."

Her adjunct hesitated, clearly torn between propriety and following the ambassador's implied command.

"It's fine, K’Nar," she said, making the decision for him. "Please see that we're not disturbed."

He bowed stiffly and backed out of the office, closing the door with a soft click that seemed to echo in the sudden silence.

She stood behind her desk, using it as a barrier between them. "You could have warned me you were coming," she said, striving for a professional tone. "And perhaps considered wearing proper attire."

Zexx's lips curved into a smile that was both predatory and amused. "Dothveks consider this proper attire," he said, moving around the desk with the fluid grace of a hunter. "Besides, you seemed to appreciate it last night."

Heat rushed to her cheeks as he stepped closer, his spicy, sun-warmed scent enveloping her—a scent that hadn’t faded despite his departure from the sands. "We need to be careful," she whispered, even as her body swayed toward his. "K’Nar already suspects something."

"Let him suspect," Zexx murmured, leaning in until his breath warmed her ear. "The only topic I want to discuss is those sounds you made last night in my arms."

Her face flamed and she swatted at his chest, unable to suppress a laugh despite herself. "You're impossible."

"Impossibly drawn to you," he agreed, sweeping her into his arms with such sudden strength that she gasped. "I haven't stopped thinking about you since I left your chambers."

His confession mirrored her own experience so perfectly that her resistance crumbled. She allowed herself to melt into his embrace, her hands moving to his bare shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her palms.

Reality intruded quickly, cooling her desire. "We have to keep this secret," she said, pulling back enough to meet his gaze. "If anyone discovers us, we could both be in danger. There are factions on the council who don't approve of the peace between our peoples, who would use this as proof that I'm unfit to lead."

Zexx's expression shifted, playfulness giving way to fierce intensity. His arms tightened around her protectively, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"I would never let anyone hurt you," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous register that sent chills across her skin. "I would defend you with my dying breath."

The raw sincerity in his words left her speechless. This wasn't diplomatic flattery or the heat of passion speaking—this was a vow, solemn and binding. In the space of a few days, this man who should have been her enemy had become her protector, her confidant, her lover.

For one dizzying moment, she allowed herself to wonder what it might be like if their love wasn't forbidden. If she could walk openly beside him, not as chancellor and ambassador but simply as Linnea and Zexx. What future might they build together, bridging their two peoples not through formal treaties but through the bonds between them?

The fantasy was so seductive, so enticing, that words rose unbidden to her lips. "Zexx, what if we—"

The door burst open without warning, and they sprang apart, her heart thundering in her chest.

K’Nar stood in the doorway, his face flushed with exertion. "Chancellor, forgive the interruption, but there's an urgent matter requiring your attention."