you know I wasn’t from the Alliance?”
He picked up a nail, turning it in his fingers and trying hard to keep a straight face, even though the memory brought back the same desire to laugh as before. “You were swearing at me in off-boundary slang.”
Her hands clenched into fists.
“That was just a part of it, though,” he added, feeling a sudden urge to explain. “I knew you must have learned those particular phrases outside the Alliance, but then I realized how much that might explain about you—about how you know so much about some things and nothing about others, like how to turn on a computer.”
Her face burned a brilliant red. “How did you know it was off-boundary slang?”
He opened his hand, dropping the nail and staring at the red creases on his palm. “My father’s on the Council, remember? He speaks a lot of languages.”
She closed her eyes. “Stupid.” Her voice was a whisper.
“Oh no, you don’t,” said Dane, pretending to take offense even though he knew she was deriding herself. “You told me a few minutes ago I wasn’t stupid. You can’t take it back now.”
“Can’t take it back.” The words sank like water dripping down the pipes.
“Aerin, I have no intention of telling anyone you’re not an Allied citizen.” He held her dark eyes in his gaze, hoping to convince her he meant what he said, that he was telling the truth and there were no strings attached.
Well, perhaps one string. He held out the hammer. “Of course, if you felt like coming back to work, I wouldn’t mind. This job might not ever end without you.”
The hammer waited.
She looked right past it, then stood up, dusting off her perfectly clean uniform and letting her gaze sweep the perimeter. The humming of the wind filled the pause, and her hair blew out in long strands behind her neck. Then her hands rose to her hips. “Well, we wouldn’t want to anger Dr. Livinski any more, would we?”
He cocked his head, noting the angle of her chin, the set of her shoulders, the distinct curve of her profile. At that moment, in that pose, she looked almost . . . regal. In a wild, untamed sort of way. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m starting to think this punishment isn’t all that bad.”
The brown eyes shot down to his. “It’s bad enough, thank you.” And she plucked the hammer from his hand.
Chapter Eleven
BARGAIN
DANE SPENT THE NEXT COUPLE OF WEEKS FORMULATING a plan of action. He and Aerin now had a working relationship. She asked him to hand her the occasional rag or paintbrush. He refrained from griping. They even discussed the quality of an assigned job now and then. None of this, however, had improved his status in physical combat.
Fortunately there was no first-quarter exam in that particular subject. Dane made it through the tests he did have with scarcely a speck of stardust on him. And judging by the posted scores, Aerin made it through even more cleanly. Not that anyone would know that by the way she continued to bury her head in a book every spare minute of the day, not lighthearted novels or required reading either, but thick, heavy texts on historical, political, and social aspects of the Alliance. Dry and dull. The books, though, finally gave Dane the idea he needed for leverage.
He tracked her down in the library.
Personally, Dane had avoided the open room on the south end of the second floor as much as possible. He disliked the way the third-year students who manned the checkout counter could monitor everyone, whether the occupants were browsing the long shelves, downloading data from the information center, or studying at the rectangular tables in the study area.
Aerin, of course, was as far from the counter as possible. Despite the fact that a large table with comfortable chairs remained empty at a window to her left, she had ensconced herself in a small cubicle, her feet and knees propped up against the wooden desk, her chair tilted toward the wall. He wondered if she had
He picked up a nail, turning it in his fingers and trying hard to keep a straight face, even though the memory brought back the same desire to laugh as before. “You were swearing at me in off-boundary slang.”
Her hands clenched into fists.
“That was just a part of it, though,” he added, feeling a sudden urge to explain. “I knew you must have learned those particular phrases outside the Alliance, but then I realized how much that might explain about you—about how you know so much about some things and nothing about others, like how to turn on a computer.”
Her face burned a brilliant red. “How did you know it was off-boundary slang?”
He opened his hand, dropping the nail and staring at the red creases on his palm. “My father’s on the Council, remember? He speaks a lot of languages.”
She closed her eyes. “Stupid.” Her voice was a whisper.
“Oh no, you don’t,” said Dane, pretending to take offense even though he knew she was deriding herself. “You told me a few minutes ago I wasn’t stupid. You can’t take it back now.”
“Can’t take it back.” The words sank like water dripping down the pipes.
“Aerin, I have no intention of telling anyone you’re not an Allied citizen.” He held her dark eyes in his gaze, hoping to convince her he meant what he said, that he was telling the truth and there were no strings attached.
Well, perhaps one string. He held out the hammer. “Of course, if you felt like coming back to work, I wouldn’t mind. This job might not ever end without you.”
The hammer waited.
She looked right past it, then stood up, dusting off her perfectly clean uniform and letting her gaze sweep the perimeter. The humming of the wind filled the pause, and her hair blew out in long strands behind her neck. Then her hands rose to her hips. “Well, we wouldn’t want to anger Dr. Livinski any more, would we?”
He cocked his head, noting the angle of her chin, the set of her shoulders, the distinct curve of her profile. At that moment, in that pose, she looked almost . . . regal. In a wild, untamed sort of way. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m starting to think this punishment isn’t all that bad.”
The brown eyes shot down to his. “It’s bad enough, thank you.” And she plucked the hammer from his hand.
Chapter Eleven
BARGAIN
DANE SPENT THE NEXT COUPLE OF WEEKS FORMULATING a plan of action. He and Aerin now had a working relationship. She asked him to hand her the occasional rag or paintbrush. He refrained from griping. They even discussed the quality of an assigned job now and then. None of this, however, had improved his status in physical combat.
Fortunately there was no first-quarter exam in that particular subject. Dane made it through the tests he did have with scarcely a speck of stardust on him. And judging by the posted scores, Aerin made it through even more cleanly. Not that anyone would know that by the way she continued to bury her head in a book every spare minute of the day, not lighthearted novels or required reading either, but thick, heavy texts on historical, political, and social aspects of the Alliance. Dry and dull. The books, though, finally gave Dane the idea he needed for leverage.
He tracked her down in the library.
Personally, Dane had avoided the open room on the south end of the second floor as much as possible. He disliked the way the third-year students who manned the checkout counter could monitor everyone, whether the occupants were browsing the long shelves, downloading data from the information center, or studying at the rectangular tables in the study area.
Aerin, of course, was as far from the counter as possible. Despite the fact that a large table with comfortable chairs remained empty at a window to her left, she had ensconced herself in a small cubicle, her feet and knees propped up against the wooden desk, her chair tilted toward the wall. He wondered if she had
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