Page 29 of Sublime Target
But it was everywhere. On the rooftop, splattered on her much-loved suit. and all over…
Him.
She was kind of glad for the protective gear concealing his face because she wouldn’t want to see his expression right now.
His entire demeanor felt… thunderous.
“What is this?” he growled, gesturing at the pink splatter, which was…
All over. His. Armor.
He swiped his hand across his visor, clearing his vision. Even the smooth dome of his head was covered in hot pink gunk.
Clarissa gulped. He’d sacrificed his beautiful head and badass armor to save her from the worst of the mess.
She found his gesture strangely touching.
The stuff was beginning to dry, forming a thin, plasticky layer.
What if it didn’t wash off?
And yet, in some bizarre way, the abstract pink splotches made him look even more spectacular, contrasting with the seamless obsidian of his armor.
Like a work of art.
He would look good in anything, because…
What are you even thinking right now? Don’t even go there.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” He stalked forward, raising his hand.
She tensed.
In a swift, elegant gesture, he grazed her cheek, his fingers coming away stained with pink.
Oh. He was just wiping that stuff off my face.
Why was his touch so gentle?
Why did the sudden intimacy of it make her feel some kind of way inside? It was as if someone were pouring warm honey into her chest, and it was spreading through her body in the most pleasurable kind of way.
Maybe… she was actually a little bit attracted to him.
No way.
She was not going to find the big, tough, intimidating alien commander attractive.
She could have these thoughts fleetingly, examine them from a distance, and put them away.
That’s all she would do, surely.
“Clarissa,” he said softly, his voice turning arctic. “What is the meaning of this, and who do I need to kill?”
“No,” she blurted, putting her hands up, her palms facing outwards in what she hoped was a placating gesture. “It’s just a prank. The sort of thing protesters do all the time. I think it’s a paint of some kind. Probably non-toxic and temporary. I’m sure it’ll wash off with the slightest bit of rain. They probably thought it would be funny to paint Garner Tower bright pink for a while.”
She was certain the image was already being broadcast all across the Networks, and it would probably make Garner Corp the butt of all kinds of jokes for quite a while.
“But you can’t be certain of what it is,” the alien countered, examining a pink blob that had attached itself to his fingers. “It might be dangerous, toxic, flammable…” He looked up, glaring at her through his visor. “Go inside. Make sure you decontaminate thoroughly. I’ll be back.”