Once & Future (Once & Future #1)(34)

Many, many eyes turned to her. They held shock and no small amount of fear.

“Besides,” she continued with bravado. “This is the galactic state department. This is Troy. And it might be ground zero for the Mercer Company, but they can’t own the government, can they? Or perhaps, they can’t admit to owning it.”

People were astounded. Ari was, too.

Gwen’s tablet vibrated. “See? Always works. No one wants a salty queen in the waiting room stirring up trouble.” She winked, stood, and pulled Ari toward the doors to the interior, their fingers linked in a sweetheart hold. “Stay, Jordan,” she called over her shoulder.

Ari only had a few moments to categorize her impressed reaction. Gwen was not only playing a game with Mercer, she was enjoying it. “How do you do that, Gwen?”

“All the universe is a stage.” She smiled. “The right spotlight pointed at the right place can make all the difference.”

They followed the lighted signs on the floor toward a small interrogation room devoid of everything but a table and chairs. Ari and Gwen sat with their backs to the wall, waiting.

Ari crossed her arms. Her legs. Gwen was infuriatingly calm, and she knew that drove Ari nuts. The door opened, and a woman in a green suit held her hand out for Gwen’s tablet. “Goody, a queen,” she muttered. “You’re going to help me win my bingo this month.”

Gwen handed over the tablet, while the woman dropped into the seat on the other side of the table. She flicked through the first few pages of their information. “You were married nine days ago. On Lionel. So romantic. Consummated?” She looked up, one eyebrow high.

“Yes.” Gwen looked at Ari.

“Yes,” Ari said stiffly.

“Are you sure?” the woman asked.

Gwen inhaled in a pointed way. Val had just won the bet over whether they’d ask, and Ari couldn’t help sinking back to Kay’s room.

“But it’s a political marriage,” Ari had argued.

“Even those need physical ties, unless you’d like to say you are ace. I’m afraid it wouldn’t work for me. Too many known lovers,” Gwen admitted casually.

“Same,” Ari replied, trying not to stare at Gwen with a brand-new kind of hunger.

“So you’ll have to lie.”

“I am not a convincing liar. When I lie I actually feel sick.”

“Well, we can’t have you throwing up in the galactic state department at the very thought of sleeping with me.” Gwen had tried to cross the room, but Ari caught her around the waist, amazed at how merely cupping Gwen’s hip made both of them inhale.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

Gwen leaned in, pressing a soft leg between Ari’s. “You really can’t think of any way to solve this dilemma?” she’d asked, followed by a more challenging, “You’re still afraid of me.”

“I’m terrified,” Ari had said, the words tumbling, pouring over Gwen’s lips as she kissed a line down her jaw. “You rile me up. You always have. But I’m not afraid of your body.” She proved it with her hands, her mouth, her limbs shaking until some nitwit turned the gravity off—only for them to discover that being pressed together in the air was even sweeter than the bed.

Hours later the pile of their clothes had seemed like a piece of art. Ari stared at it, took a picture with her watch. Then she turned to Gwen’s sleeping form and edged closer. The queen’s pretenses disappeared when she was asleep. And now, Ari knew, when she was making love.

“Four times,” Ari said to the state department official. “It was exquisite. I can give you the play-by-play.”

“Not necessary.” The woman went back to the tablet. Gwen gave Ari an exasperated look that left Ari staring at Gwen’s mouth—reliving the special talents of those lips.

“Born on Troy?” the woman asked Gwen, breaking their moment. “Welcome home.”

Ari’s desire flipped over into surprise. “I thought you were born on Lionel.”

Gwen shifted in her seat and gave the woman a polite smile.

Oh, shit. Had Ari just given them away?

“No worries, honey,” the woman said. “In my experience, the marriage is more legit if there are a few secrets. Otherwise it seems like you’ve been quizzing each other.” Ari’s nerves eased but didn’t back off all the way. The woman kept reading and then looked at Ari. “Your birthplace is listed as Ketch.”

Ari tried a smile. “That’s gotta be the star center on the bingo board, am I right?”

The woman sprang out of the room as if she were fleeing Merlin’s bizarre magic. In the corner, a red light went off soundlessly, and Ari heard the door lock in several places.

“What the—”

Gwen smiled at the red light. “Don’t say anything, baby girl.”

Ari ached to stand or pace, but Gwen kept her cool smile on the red light, holding Ari’s hand tightly. Ari leaned back to Gwen’s ear. “Did you just ‘baby girl’ me?”

“Too cutesy?” Gwen asked.

“The jury’s still out. Buttercups.”

“Vetoed.”

“Understood.”

Despite having spent a week trading pieces of their histories, sharing scars, and shedding clothes, this closeness felt new. It was highlighted by their fear. “Ari… listen,” Gwen said, her words breathy, small. “We might have to deal with the Administrator. I’d hoped he wouldn’t take notice, but…”