Stardancer (Tellaran Series) by Ariel MacArran

goddess of love herself could keep that up. 
    His face suddenly lit up with a smile and her eyes narrowed. “I’m glad one of us finds this funny.”
    “Not funny,” he said, grinning, and his dark eyes shone. “But truly I find this— you —so pleasing to me that I cannot even speak to it.”
    She ducked her head and drank more of the juice.
    “Your head, is it better now?”
    “Yes,” she said, surprised. “Actually the headache is gone.”
    He gave a nod. “We must attend your sore muscles then.”
    “Uh, what did you have in mind?”
    In response, he took her hand and led her back to the bathing chamber. One glance at the pool of hot water and she had to agree it was a starblasted excellent idea. She put the cup down and straightening, caught her reflection.
    With a gasp, her hand went to her wild, matted hair. “Gods, I look like I just tumbled out of a Sertarian wind storm.”
    He laughed and picked up a wide-toothed comb. He held it out of her reach when she went to take it and drew her down to sit in front of him on one of the benches.
    “I can do it,” she protested, flushing.
    “I wish to,” he said, turning her. “Allow me this.” 
    Gently, working section by section, he freed her hair from its tangles. He used such care that he never once pulled her hair. 
    He continued to comb her hair after it was smooth and sitting there with him, his fingers running through her hair, actually felt really . . . nice .
    “I would you let it grow even longer, Cy’atta ,” he said. “And wear it loose at every opportunity.”
    “Okay,” she mumbled. She usually wound up with it twisted up in a messy hair tie but loose would probably be just as easy.
    He pressed a kiss to her temple and put down the comb. He drew her into the water and she sighed as the heat of it enveloped her. He washed her hair, and she closed her eyes gratefully as he massaged her sore muscles with strong fingers.
    She nipped her lip then turned to look at him. He gave her a questioning look.
    “Come on,” she said, having trouble meeting his eye as she motioned for him to face the other way. “Your turn.”
    He gave her a quick, surprised smile. She doubted very much that her muscle rubdown was half as effective as his had been but he pressed close with all the unselfconscious abandon of a sercat leaning into a petting.
    Later he took up combing and drying her hair. She wondered if he was doing all this as a lead up to another joining but his touches didn’t seem meant to arouse.
    I guess even Az-kye have a limit to their stamina. 
    Still, he often stopped to kiss her hair or touch her cheek, to nuzzle or embrace her. He seemed to delight in just the look of her and was not in the least shy about his caresses or his admiration.
    He was reluctant to leave her too. He shaved and dressed in warrior black again but wouldn’t go until he saw her settled on one of the couches, the blue robe around her, a blanket tucked over her lap and a cup of steaming tea in her hand.
    “I would I did not have to leave you,” he said, hovering.
    Kinara beat back the impulse to ask him not to. “It’s okay.”
    He gave her a faint smile and brushed a kiss to her mouth. “I will hurry in my tasks.” He leaned his forehead to hers. “I would I did not have to go.”
    “Yeah,” Kinara murmured. Her hand started to reach up to pull him down beside her and she jerked it back.
    He’ll be back in few hours, for gods’ sake. Why is it so hard to let him leave?
    “Stay you here in our quarters,” he warned, his dark eyes serious. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I will return as soon as I am able.”
    She wet her lips and gave a nod.
    He traced the curve of her cheek then with a final longing look he left.
     

     
    Kinara sat looking into the holo-flames. The tea had long since gone cold in her hand.
    I can’t just forget who I am because of one night—day—damn it, whatever it was. What’s wrong with me?  It’s like I can’t even