Page 23 of The Intergalactic Duke's Inconvenient Engagement
She lifted one eyebrow. “Mostly and hardly any?”
“Well, it’s best to keep one’s options open, wouldn’t you agree? In case a new opportunity presents itself.”He watched her closely.
So closely she wasn’t quite comfortable agreeing so she just shrugged. “I’ve never had to worry about conquering galaxies.”
“Right, very true,” he agreed hastily. “But if you were so inclined to conquer a galaxy, I want you to know I’d be there to back you.”
She squinted at him. “Oooh-kay. Good to hear.”
He paused, shifting his weight uneasily. “You had said…after yourmother left, you felt lonely. Though you are farther from home than ever, I want you to feel you are not alone.”
Now she was getting uneasy too. “Raz… Your Grace—”
“Raz,” he corrected her. “Short for my given name, Aelazar Amrazal. It’s a mouthful, I know. And I’ve held you while you were mostly naked and vulnerable so the need for formality seems moot.”
A mouthful, sure, but she didn’t wanthim in her mouth… She crossed her arms in front of her, tucking her hands into the robe sleeves defensively. “I don’t know what that has to do with—”
“Nothing, nothing,” he said. “Come see.” He slapped his palm beside the panel behind them, and a section of the wall slid open to give them entry. “This is the navigation center. Restricted to core personnel only.”
“But of course, since you’retheDuke of Azthronos…” she said, much more snidely this time, her innate sense of fairness thrown off by his shifty behavior.
“Andthe honorary commander of this ship,” he reminded her.
That flashing grin again, the one that made her melt. Only because of that did she follow him into the darkness.
The room was huge. In the gloom when the door closed behind them, the far walls were invisible,but shefeltthe space around her.
Which was appropriate enough, because she waslookingat space.
She gasped in delight at the enormous 3D holographic projection of a galaxy spinning slowly in the dark. Pinpoints of light were stars. Swirling handfuls of glittering dust were nebulas. A few delicate streamers of comets arced overhead.
“Raz,” she whispered. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, it is.”
An odd note in his voice distracted her—a husky undertone that sent a spark like another comet burning across her awareness. When she twisted her head to look at him, he was looking at her.
And that comet-bright spark was in his royal blue eyes.
She swallowed hard. “Why are you showing me this?” Not just showing her the map, showing her whatever was in his gaze…
But he turned away from her to“grab” a section of the map. “This is all of the Thorkonos Galaxy.” With a gesture, he expanded it, zooming in, refining the view. “This is Azthronos.”
“Your solar system,” she said. How odd to think one man claimed an entire solar system.
He gave her an approving nod and zoomed closer. “Azthronos is also the name of the central planet where the ducal estate is quartered. And here are the otherinhabited planets and their moons…” He whirled the map expertly and rattled off names that zoomed past her faster than the simulation. “And here’s our asteroid belt, although we are investigating the possibility of expanding mining operations to the planetary rings around our one gas giant since we’ve found a valuable concentration of rare minerals…” He paused, staring at the map, then slowlyzoomed back out to show the system from its fierce yellow star to the edge of the heliosphere. “That’s probably more than you wanted to know.”
She tilted her head at the new undercurrent in his voice. Resignation? Despair? She wasn’t sure. “I’ve already forgotten half of it,” she confessed. “Even without the memory wipe.”
He snorted softly. “I’ve had it stuffed in my brain from before I couldwalk and I still have trouble holding onto all of it.”
God, she’d sometimes resented stepping into her mother’s role too young—taking on the responsibilities of housekeeper, financial manager, and emotional heart for her fractured family when she’d still been focused mostly on riding her bike to the corner store for ice cream. And he’d known from birth that he had to be that for a whole solarsystem.
Despite the vastness of the room and the projection, she fought down a twist of claustrophobia on his behalf. “You must feel trapped sometimes.”
His head jerked up, and he stared at her. The slow revolution of the planets reflected in the pure celestial blue of his eyes. The stiff tilt of his chin made her think he was about to reject her insight, but then his chin came down again ina wary nod. “And alone.”
The soft confession echoed through the hollow place inside her, like the emptiness between the stars. And it terrified her. Was he saying he felt that same hollowness? With everything he had—a whole damn solar system and a spaceship to fly around in it!—and hestillfelt that way? Then what chance didshehave?