The craft moved upwards in a long, smooth glide. She let out a deep, slow breath.

Gray squeezed her shoulders. "Nervous?"

As if she'd admit it. "Not at all."

He chuckled, then leaned forward a bit. "Now that we're alone, Hento, tell me your thoughts on the meeting."

It took Hento a moment to reply. "The dissension within the Earth contingent appears strong, Sarjah. They argue vehemently amongst themselves."

Yes, they did. Arguments about things that happened decades ago.

"If they remain divided," Hento continued, "they may never agree to your plan for apportioning the representatives. The equitable division of voting power is the root of the constitution."

Gray took his arm from her shoulders and slid forward on the seat so he could speak more easily to Hento. "Yes, but they will come to see the necessity of apportioning the representatives according to economic strength. It's served us well on Prendara."

"I admire your optimism, Sarjah. Yet the Earth delegates appear reluctant to agree that economics are important. Rather, they cling to their racial differences."

She couldn't argue with that. The Earth delegates were clearly divided along racial lines. The Prendarian occupation had seen an end to the boundaries of countries, and now only race was left to argue about. They couldn't see past their differences to unite against the Prendarians.

"All the more reason for them to accept the constitution," Gray said. "It alleviates the racial boundaries."

As if Gray had the solution to thousands of years of racism. Was there no end to the man's confidence? Probably not.

"The Prendarian delegates seemed..." Hento paused. "They appear less unified than we expected, Sarjah."

Gray straightened. "Why do you say that?"

"There were subtle gestures..." Hento trailed off.

So they'd been watching the meeting, too. She should have known they'd be watching as well as listening. All those assistants had to have something to do. No doubt Hento had noticed the way the Prendarian delegates looked at Daria -- with suspicion. Suspicion they'd transferred to Gray.

Reema turned and spoke over her shoulder. "They appeared to be slightly nervous, Sarjah. Perhaps because many of them were meeting you for the first time."

Or because he'd brought Daria with him. His right-hand aide, the only one he brought into the meeting -- an Earther born and bred.

"I wanted the Earthers to trust me today," Gray said. "My goal was to ease their acceptance of me as arbitrator. But I'll be certain not to neglect the Prendarian delegates."

"That would be wise, Sarjah." Hento's voice trailed off, as if he'd like to say more. An unspoken but lurked at the end of his words.

"Speak freely, Hento," Gray encouraged.

"As you will," the man replied. "Sarjah, you must not assume that the Prendarian delegates will vote for this constitution. They are used to having complete dominion on this world."

"They wouldn't dare vote against the constitution," Gray said. "They know that my --" He stopped and cleared his throat. "They know that the Premier Leader would be most displeased if anyone defied her orders to integrate the government."

Integrate the government. Did he really believe that? She didn't know much about politics, but it seemed like the Prendarians just wanted the Earthers to sanction their power. To give the Prendarian government their blessing. To willingly participate in their own oppression. That's what everyone she knew thought. Tank, Don, Trisha... everyone.

She nearly missed Hento's response.

"You must not count on their loyalty to the Premier Leader, Sarjah."

"I don't. I want them to approve the constitution because I have convinced them that integration is best for all."

"I am certain you will succeed," Hento said soothingly.

"With your guidance, I'm sure I shall."

Gray sounded a little anxious. Not as confident as he appeared on the surface. Even arrogant men like him must have private doubts.

"May I offer a comment, Sarjah?" Reema asked in her dulcet voice.

Gray smiled, even though she wasn't looking at him. "You would find a way to tell me, regardless of my wishes," he said, a playful note in his voice. "Best to state your opinion plainly."

Did they have to openly tease each other this way? Right in front of her? She was the one living in Gray's quarters. Not Reema. She laid her hand on his thigh. He covered it with his own hand and squeezed.

Reema turned sideways in her seat, looking back to give him a soft smile. As if she didn't see Daria's hand on his leg. "The Prendarian delegates seemed to object most strongly when you insisted on a living wage for all, regardless of their sanctioned occupation."

Daria had been surprised by that, too. Surprised and angry. The wages were the least of the problems with the sanctioned occupation system. Locking young children into a career without giving them any choice... the whole system was cruel. Yet all of the delegates had nodded when Gray suggested continuing the program. The only thing they all agreed on. They'd argued about guaranteeing a minimum wage, but that was the only argument about the program.

Gray turned to Daria and gave her a long, measuring look, as if he somehow sensed her annoyance. Impossible. His eyes were just an unusual color -- the kind of eyes that made a person think he could read minds.

"I will not budge on that issue, Reema. Regardless of assigned occupation, everyone needs to receive enough credits to live. We must find a way to make the living wage agreeable to the delegates."

"As you will," Reema murmured, turning forward again.

Gray kept his gaze on Daria. Why was he looking at her like this? Like she had some vested interest in this conversation? He couldn't possibly know her thoughts on the subject. And he never would. She looked away from his intense gaze and saw the neat rows of lights marking the space dock out the window. They'd be home in a few minutes.

No, not home. Just a temporary living space until she moved on.

"You will have an opportunity to begin your persuasion this evening, Sarjah," Hento said.

"I'm certain you recall that we are expected to dine with two of the Prendarian delegates and their mates in one hour."

"So soon?" Gray's hand found her knee and eased up under her skirt.

How far would that stroking hand go? Up to her thigh... and no further. His thumb drew tantalizing patterns on her inner thigh, just a few inches from her clit. Damn, he knew how to make her hot. She squeezed her legs together.

She could feel Gray's gaze, but refused to look at him. If she did, he'd use those sexy eyes to put the whammy on her. Those eyes would make her part her legs and let him feel her up right here in the backseat of the hovercraft, like a couple of horny adolescents.

He took her hand and put it in his lap... holding it right on top of his hard cock. Hard for her. She might not be as pretty as Reema, she definitely wasn't as dignified, but she was the woman Gray wanted to thrust this big cock into. She couldn't resist. Her fingers stroked him, teased him, tested his length.

Hot lips nuzzled at the side of her head, pushing her hair out of the way. His panting breaths in her sensitive ear raised goose bumps all the way down her neck. "Trying to make me moan?" he whispered.

A wicked sense of daring possessed her. She'd never made out in a car before. All Hento -or Reema -- had to do was turn, and they'd see... God, the thought made her hot. She nodded.

"I wager you'll moan first." His whisper made her shiver, but she kept her hand on his cock, squeezing and stroking by turns. Daria Cohen never lost a bet.

His hand moved to her thigh again, sliding up under her skirt, spreading a trail of fire. Where her thighs met, his fingers made teasing little circles. Fair was fair. She shifted her legs apart, just a little, just enough to let his fingers reach her aching sex.

He pressed against her, rubbing heat through her panties. Her hips nearly flew off the seat. God, she was wet. And she wanted nothing more than to have him push her underwear out of the way and thrust a finger deep inside.

He nipped her earlobe. "Remember this afternoon at the store?"

As if she'd ever forget the closest she'd been to having sex in public. She nodded.

His tongue traced her inner ear, making her press down into the seat. "I still have your undergarment in my pocket."

Oh, God. She gripped his cock hard... and gave a little whimper. Damn.

Gray pulled those tormenting fingers back down to her thigh. She squeezed her legs together, trapping his hand.

"Postpone the meal, Hento." Gray sounded hoarse. "I shall require... ninety minutes before we dine."

"As you will, Sarjah." Hento's voice had never sounded so dry. "I shall tell them you are... volshano."

Gray burst out laughing. "No, don't tell them that. Just fabricate an excuse, Hento. A decorous excuse."

She spoke a lot of Prendarian, but that was another new word for her. She had to know. "

Volshano? What does that mean?"

The men laughed.

Reema turned to her with a wide smile, and Daria yanked her hand off of Gray's cock. His fingers tightened on her thigh, daring her to try to pull them away. She didn't. Tugging at his hand would only draw more attention to it.

"It means you have a desperate need," Reema said. Her tone seemed oddly kind. "A desperate need for sexual pleasure."

Oh, my God. Hento had suggested telling the delegates that Gray was late because he needed to get laid? Her face burned. Oh well, at least now Reema knew that Gray wouldn't be seeking her out tonight, if she'd been in any doubt.

Reema murmured something to Hento, something Daria couldn't quite hear. Gray's teasing thumb seemed to suck up all her attention.

"Fear not, Reema," Hento said quietly. "I shall appease your hunger before we dine."

God, did these people just run out and fuck whoever happened to be handy? Gray was busy with her, so Reema would go off with the next best thing?

Reema laughed softly. "Assuredly you shall, dahsh'kara."

Daria opened her mouth, then closed it. She didn't have the nerve to ask for a definition of dahsh'kara. She already regretted asking what volshano meant.

The hovercraft slowed and came to a stop. While Reema stepped out, Gray turned to Daria and smiled. One of those slow, sexy smiles.

"Ninety minutes," he murmured. "Ninety short minutes. Best we hurry."

He jumped out of the hovercraft, then reached for her waist and helped her down. When her feet were on solid ground, he took her hand and hurried down the dock with her in tow, not even waiting for Hento and Reema.

He seemed volshano for sure.

And after all that petting in the hovercraft, so was she.

* * * * * The security envoy gaped openly as Gray and Daria rushed up the loading ramp, hands clasped. Gray all but pulled her along. Need spurred him on -- the need to feel her beneath him, the need to hear her cry out in pleasure and shudder in his arms. The need to prove she would treat him no differently than before. She hadn't balked, hadn't looked at him in awe, hadn't behaved as though he was anything but a mortal man. Not when his assistants fussed over him, not while he greeted each delegate, not even during the meeting. She fit into his sphere as perfectly as if she'd been born to it. She'd been grave, serious, polite -- and unspeakably lovely. He'd directed the meeting for long hours, persuading and cajoling and arguing over every clause of the document that would re-shape Earth, with her tempting body right beside him. He knew she wore a beautiful bra under her staid jacket, that her thighs were generous and strong under the barrier of her skirt. He imagined it every moment. So tempting that he'd wanted to forget the meeting and pull her from the room, drag her past all two hundred and eighty-four delegates, and pleasure her until they fell asleep from exhaustion.

The urge came upon him during the first half hour of the meeting. His root had been stiff as a pike through the remainder.

Now he had her alone at last, and only ninety minutes in which to indulge their pleasure.

He didn't pause until they were at the door to his quarters. He slapped his free hand against the lock and waited a virtual age for the door to slide open.

Once inside, he pulled her into the sleeping chamber, into his arms, before the door had even closed. His mouth met hers, tongue seeking. Her body pressed against him, rubbing his cock, fueling his ache.

He fumbled with her jacket, pulling it off her shoulders without releasing her lips. She took her arms from around him and shrugged the fabric off. Then her hands were between them, pushing him away.

Pushing him away? No, merely peeling off his jacket.

Yes. Yes, he wanted her naked, against his bare flesh.

His fingers seemed thick and unsteady, struggling to free the buttons on her silky shirt, but finally he could pull the garment open to see those pert breasts, hidden in this bra thing she wore. A lovely, enticing garment, but it covered her completely. He turned her around and fumbled with the little hooks. When the bra was loose, he stripped it down her arms, reached around her from behind and cupped her breasts.

Oh, yes. So warm, soft and yielding. His fingers stroked her nipples, so thick and irresistible. But too much clothing separated his cock from her rubbing, stroking ass.

When he took his hands from her breasts, she whimpered.

"Shh," he soothed against her neck while his fingers skimmed the waistband of her skirt. Sanwar, where was the fastener?

She brushed his hands aside. He heard a zipper sliding, then felt the material fall to the floor. He tugged off his own pants, stepped out of his shoes, started to open his shirt. Her hands tangled with his; she stripped his shirt off. Then they were naked, in each other's arms, moaning into each other's mouths.

If only he could speak, could find the words, could tell her what she meant to him. But he couldn't stop kissing her.

Words would wait. For now his body would tell her.

He bent and sucked her breast deep into his mouth.

Mine.

She grasped at his head, pulling him closer. Her panting breaths made her belly pulse against his cock.

He dropped to his knees and looked up at her face. So lovely... her eyes burned with desire. Desire for him. Yes, she wanted him. Not his wealth, not his power. She wanted him as a man.

His hands slid around her smooth thighs, holding her still. Then he nuzzled against her sex, felt the silky hair of her nest against his face. With a little gasp, she clutched at his shoulders.

Mine.

His lips burrowed even further, his tongue pressed between her legs, until she quivered under his palms. Further, further... Finally he tasted the musky tang of her pussy, felt the hard little nub of her clit.

Mine.

He worked her bud with his tongue, stroking firm and hard. A strangled cry left her throat, an urgent, needy call for more. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding his mouth against her sweet nest.

My... my mate.