Page 70 of Sublime Target
She rode the slow ferry around the harbor, basking in the sunlight, enjoying the sight of the iridescent water as they lazily drifted past the glittering glass-and-steel palaces of the uber-wealthy.
Finally, the ferry sailed past the spectacular clifftops of the Heads, drifting toward its destination, a terminal close to Manly Beach.
She spent a day on the beach, reading a smutty romance novel under a compact umbrella as her toes sank into the warm, fine sand.
From behind her oversized sunglasses, she people-watched, observing the buff, toned ones and the imperfect and completely unselfconscious alike.
She marveled at how carefree people were, seemingly oblivious to the threat looming in the starry universe above.
She astounded herself by finding none of these people interesting beyond a quick glance; usually, she might find someone or other to admire from a safe distance, but now her idle thoughts were constantly occupied by one person.
Jerik Garul.
Kordolian.
Powerful beyond her comprehension. Once-ruthless, and probably still that way in many regards, but he seemed to have developed a soft spot for humans and a very obvious liking for her.
It was more than just a liking, though, and he’d very intentionally let her know it.
God, that man wasn’t one to beat around the bush. Were all Kordolians like him? She was almost afraid to imagine what he’d be like when he was in official Kordolian mode.
But the most surprising thing was that she’d actually enjoyed his company.
His honesty, his stalwartness, his ability to be gentle with her no matter how angry he was. She missed his big, warm presence and his unapologetic Kordolianness.
What a day that had been.
It was three days since she’d received Jerik and his crew at Garner Tower and walked out of her job; since she’d left him there, standing on the rooftop of her apartment complex, staring at her as if his gaze could set a thousand suns on fire.
She thought that if she gave it some time, her feelings might become clearer.
She might end up feeling turned off by him.
But she wasn’t. Not at all.
And a big part of her felt unfulfilled.
What if…?
She wanted to go to the Kordolian Cultural Event, but something was holding her back—stupid fear.
“Hey.” A familiar voice made her look up. There was Bea, sauntering across the sand. Wearing a white bikini and a wide-brimmed hat over dark cat-eye sunglasses, with a fuchsia-and-white-striped towel wrapped around her curvy hips, she looked resplendent, drawing admiring glances from more than a few onlookers.
“Nice hair,” Clarissa remarked.
“Thanks.” Bea ran her hand through her long white braids, which were so tiny and intricate that, from a distance, they looked like silken hair. “I wanted to go for a different look. Something bold and different. That’s twelve hours worth of sitting on my ass, but micro-braids are always worth it.”
“They look beautiful. But how are you going to get past Garner’s corporate image guidelines?”
“Meh. You started something, Clarissa. Staff have been walking out left, right, and center. They can’t afford to get rid of me now. Nobody else can manage the front desk right now. I figure I can take a few liberties.” Bea laughed as she unwrapped her towel and laid it down on the sand next to Clarissa—in the brightly blazing sun.
“There’s room under my umbrella,” she offered.
Bea smiled. “Thank you, hun, but I have more than enough melanin. Sun doesn’t bother me. And I’ve spent far too much time in that gloomy office. I need the vitamin D.”
“Fair enough. I’d go red like a lobster if I tried to do that. Then I’d peel and flake for days.”
“Almost like a Kordolian,” Bea laughed.