Starr Struck Read online

  "Regarding what?"

  "Regarding me," she said quickly and glanced away.

  Zolan's frown deepened. "You are not Protocol Officer Cassiopeia?"

  "No, I-I mean yes." Words tumbled over one another, slurring her carefully practiced pronunciation. "I am Epsilon Station's Protocol officer. The only one, except for my boss, Marinda." She was rambling, she realized suddenly, filling the conversation with useless words that could easily be misconstrued. Cassie closed her mouth.

  "I do not understand. If you are Protocol Officer, Cassiopeia and you can accommodate us here on Epsilon station, then what is the problem?"

  Cassie felt her cheeks flush from pink to what could only be crimson and cursed her redhead's coloring. "I believe I may have...." What was the right word, she wondered desperately? "Exaggerated what I was offering."

  "You cannot provide us with one hundred suites?"

  "No, no--"

  At the word 'no' he looked even more distressed. She should have been honest with Marinda. If she had, she might be out of a job, but at least the situation would be well in hand and she wouldn't be keeping the Ambassador from his meeting. "The rooms are already booked. We are delighted to have you as our guests."

  "Then what," Zolan asked in exasperation, "is it?"

  "Sir?" The servant, having been brushed off once, now merely poked his head around the corner. "The Gridwellian Ambassador--"

  Zolan held up his hand for silence.

  "Sir--" Yandi peeped in dismay. "The Gridwellian Ambassador is scheduled to depart on the next flight to Centauri. He insists he must speak with you about the trade agreement before he leaves."

  This time Zolan took the offered cloak with no argument. "I'm afraid we must speak later, Cassie," he said, laying a reassuring hand upon her arm. She looked down, seeing the striking contrast between his golden and her pale flesh. Beneath the gentle pressure of his hand, she felt the embers of desire ignite. Obviously, he knew his way around a woman's body, how to encourage, how to seduce.

  Who was this man who could evoke such feelings in her? Since she'd come to Epsilon Station, her only thoughts had been for her career, and now she'd nearly thrown it away because of one man who'd reached into her life and rearranged it in a single meeting. Her romantic life until now had been uneventful at best. Yet, with this stranger she felt ... comfortable. His open nature put her instantly at ease. And left her embarrassingly attracted.

  And then again, perhaps she was reading far too much into the situation. He was the Cetian Ambassador. He was used to dealing with people from differing cultures, even from different species. Whatever the situation, she couldn't let him go without settling things between them.

  "I'll walk with you," she said quickly, realizing once the words had been uttered that she had no cloak, no scarf, that she was again breaking the rules of convention. But Zolan nodded absently, his thoughts already centered on his upcoming meeting. He stood, motioning for her to precede him through the doorway. As she passed, Cassie saw his servant shoot another disapproving look in her direction.

  "Ambassador--" she said when he would have strode purposely down the hall.

  Still striding too fast for her shorter legs, Zolan turned his attention upon her. His startling blue eyes gave the impression she took up his whole world when he fixed her with that look. It felt wonderful to be the center of someone's world. No one had ever made her feel that way before. "Yes, Cassie," he said in that resonant voice, "you were about to tell me of your difficulty."

  "Yes, Ambassador--"

  "Zolan," he said easily.

  Zolan came to a stop outside the Gridwellian Ambassador's suite. He had only to ring and their conversation would end abruptly. And she'd already made him late.

  "Zolan, I fear I may have led to believe I was looking for more than trade here at Epsilon Station," she blurted finally and dragged in a great breath of relief.

  Poised to announce his presence to the Gridwellian Ambassador, Zolan turned toward her. The smile he shot her was like a ray of sun. "Oh yes, your quest for a mate." He lowered his hand, looked her intently in the face. "I must admit, your bold request took me aback. But, you have charmed me." He paused dramatically and his smile grew wider still. "I will consider your proposal of marriage."

  That said, he rang the Gridwellian Ambassador's door for entry, leaving Cassiopeia standing in the hallway.

  Dismay sunk like a rock to the pit of her stomach. Protocol and manners prevented her from pounding on the door. But somehow she had to separate the Cetian Ambassador from his duties long enough to explain. His schedule would be on Marinda's computer. Perhaps she could find a way to intercept him before news of her gaffe reached Marinda.

  Marinda's office was empty when Cassie arrived back at Epsilon Station's Office of Protocol. Luck, it seemed, offered one small mercy on this ill-fated day. Leaving the room in darkness, Cassie walked quietly across the floor.

  Overhead lights blazed. Behind her someone gasped. Cassie whirled to face the intruder.

  Marinda clutched her chest. "Cassie, you scared me half to death!"

  "Sorry." Cassie attempted to sound nonchalant, but she was certain Marinda could hear the pounding of her heart from across the room. "I was just leaving."

  "You're here late."

  "I was ah -- just double-checking a few details regarding the Cetian delegation. It's such an important contract, I wanted to make sure everything was all right."

  "A very important contract," Marinda agreed. "But you're to be commended for your hard work. I knew I made the right decision promoting you."

  Guilt stabbed at Cassie's conscience. For a moment she debated telling Marinda the truth. She'd tell her later, she decided. Once she'd rectified her mistake and put things to rights. Cassie forced the tremor from her voice and asked, "What brings you back to the office so late?"

  Marinda sighed. "The Malvarian Ambassador has invited our Cetian guests to a formal dinner. Someone from the Protocol Office should attend, but it means I'll have to work late and I promised Timo I'd--"

  "I'll do it," Cassie blurted, her outburst startling them both. To her surprise Marinda seemed to be considering the idea.

  "Do you think you could handle it? The evening setting means it falls under the conventions of a Cetian social gathering. Their social conventions are particular about such things...."

  "No problem," Cassie got out past the lump in her throat.

  Marinda brightened. "You've done such a great job so far. I have the utmost faith in you, Cassie."

  * * * *

  Malvarian formal dinners were a spectacle to behold. Staring through the film of the nearly transparent veil that covered her face in deference to the strict etiquette of Cetian evening social occasions, Cassie marveled at the display of color and light.

  From the middle of the sumptuously laid banquet table, the champagne fountain bubbled in rainbow hues. Illuminated circuit boards flashed in the chests of the transparent robot waiters circulating among the guests.

  At any other time, Cassie would have delighted in the display. Tonight however, she had only one goal in mind: to find the Cetian Ambassador and separate him from the notion she was proposing marriage.

  Her eyes settled on the shrouded form of a man too tall to be anyone else. From beneath the veil of his head scarf a lock of golden hair shone as brightly as the stars outside. Between his robe and his gloves she caught a glimpse of his bronzed skin, as he gestured with his hands when he spoke.

  Somehow, she had to get close enough to have a private word with him. But Cetian social conventions were strict. Unmarried female strangers simply didn't demand time alone with single men. Who knew what conclusions the other Cetians would draw if she demanded a private word with him?

  Mistakes compounded mistakes, creating more mistakes. Somehow she had to reach across the barriers of culture and galactic space and make Zolan understand.

  Except for one small problem. Deep in her heart she wanted the Cetian's atten
tion. She craved far more than his attention. She longed to feel his bronzed skin against her own and the warmth of his lips against hers. If she allowed herself one moment's truth, she had to admit this stranger from another star aroused her like no one else ever had.

  "Keep thinking like that and you'll not only lose your job, but create an intergalactic incident," Cassiopeia whispered to herself.

  Revealing her face, she headed across the floor toward the Cetian Ambassador.

  She planned to catch his eyes, to discretely request a moment to speak with him far beyond the prying eyes of the other guests. But she got no further than a few steps before he caught her in his gaze. His eyes brightened.

  "Protocol Officer Cassiopeia," his voice washed over her, warming her with its resonant tones. Unfortunately, it also drew the attention of all the other guests at the banquet. She was underdressed for such an occasion, wearing only the bare minimum of scarf and modest gown. Fine for an office visit, but the grand dinner was far in excess of what she had expected. She should have asked to borrow one of Marinda's long gowns, Cassie thought with regret.

  Under the scrutiny of a multitude of eyes, she felt practically naked. As she turned her face to meet Zolan's expectant gaze, she glimpsed Yandi's disapproving frown.

  Cassie bowed her head in greeting. "Ambassador Zolan."

  "Are you to join us this evening?" He bowed in deference. "I would be honored if you'd be my guest."

  The hope in his voice made her heart turn over. "I'm afraid I cannot, Ambassador, I wanted only to--"

  "But you must--"

  Cassiopeia cast a glance at the other delegates and found them also scowling their disapproval. "Ambassador, I'm afraid I'm not dressed for such an affair--"

  "Pah!" Zolan waved her objections from the air. "You look wonderful to me." His brilliant grin left no doubt to the innuendo in that comment. Cassiopeia cursed her fair coloring as she felt herself blushing scarlet. "Better than wonderful," he whispered for her hearing alone. His beautiful voice, so full of emotion, moved her like a exquisitely executed symphony.

  In response, Cassie blushed a deeper shade, much to the chagrin of the delegates, all of whom watched the interchange with acute attention.

  "I wished only to have a word with you, Ambassador." She couldn't say privately. In Cetian that held other connotations all together. Cassie settled on "Confidentially."

  Zolan's eyes narrowed. He said something in a Cetian dialect too rapidly for her to follow. Making no attempt to hide their disapproval, the rest of the Cetians moved a few discreet feet away.

  "How can I be of service, Protocol Officer Cassiopeia?"

  "Well, I--" Cassie began, then noticed the prying eyes of at least ten other delegates fixed upon them. "Could we--" she glanced at a huge ice sculpture nested in a forest of flowers. "Could we talk over here?"

  Zolan moved obligingly behind the sculpture. Cassie couldn't help notice that the situation must have looked even more incriminating from the other side. But in a moment all will be sorted out, she promised herself.

  Eyes as blue as the Great Sea on her home world looked intently into hers.

  "Something troubles you, Protocol Officer Cassiopeia?"

  Cassie couldn't help but be moved by the concern in his voice. Painfully aware of the seconds drifting by and the interested gazes on the other side of the ice sculpture, Cassie launched into her explanation.

  "Ambassador, I fear I have misled you." She couldn't bear to keep looking into those soulful eyes. Cassie fixed her gaze on the tiled floor instead. "Cetian is a difficult language for me, and I am still learning...." The truth sprang from her lips. She had meant to admit nothing of the sort.

  Tiny lines creased the corners of his mouth as his smile faded into a frown.

  Cassie began to talk faster. "I believe I have misled you in my intentions." Her eyes flickered upward. He caught her gaze and held it. "And I fear I may have erroneously given you the impression I was looking for a mate."

  Hurt flashed within those devastating eyes. "Am I to take it," Zolan asked solemnly in near-perfect Standard, "that you do not wish to be my bride, Protocol Officer, Cassiopeia?"

  Cassie's heart sank. She felt her stomach coil tighter with tension. She'd expected him to be relieved, perhaps even to think her gaffe humorous. Instead, he looked genuinely hurt.

  "That's not it, Ambassador. You see--" She held out her hands in a helpless gesture and found them captured by his. Even through the thin leather of his gloves, she could feel the heat of his skin. "I just didn't want you to think I was propositioning you." The words slid from her lips, far more blatant than she wished them to be. But she couldn't risk another misunderstanding between them.

  Zolan's expression brightened. "Then you do wish to be my bride!"

  "No Ambassador." It was impossible to think while his thumbs traced lazy circles on her wrists and his smile held her rooted to the spot.

  The smile faded again. "You do not find me attractive?"

  "No, Zolan," she stammered, then gathering her wits, tried again. "Yes, Ambassador, I do but--"

  "But what?"

  Cassie raised her head to find his face mere inches away from hers. Full lips closed the distance between them. Warm breath bathed her cheek."

  "What is it, Cassiopeia, that you wish to tell me?"

  She opened her mouth to reply and found instead her lips captured by his.

  Feather-soft lips brushed hers. She felt the flicker of his tongue. Her resolve crumbled and her traitorous mouth opened, allowing his tongue to slide inside. Like savoring a delectable treat, he sampled the deep recesses of her mouth. She'd never been kissed so languidly, so sensuously or so fully. How she'd dreamed of kissing those lips, wondered how his long, lean body would feel pressed against hers. Until Zolan, she hadn't known a kiss could be like that. The unexpected sensual onslaught got the better of her and Cassie moaned in spite of herself. Relentless in his possession of her, he swallowed the sound. He spread his fingers and laced them through her curls. Long tapered fingers massaged the back of her head. Every nerve in her body sprang to life. Her hands grasped his shoulders, whether to push him away or draw him closer, she didn't know. Dimly aware they were barely hidden behind the ice sculpture, she pressed her body against him, wanting more and not knowing how to ask for it.

  His body understood even if she didn't. Obligingly, he pulled her hard against him. She could feel every muscle in that sculpted body. Strong arms cradled her against him. Long, lean legs made her wonder how they would feel between hers. Zolan was obviously wondering too because she could feel the evidence of his arousal hard and insistent and nested between her thighs. For an instant she almost told him to stop, but then another slide of his tongue smothered the last of her protests.

  Hesitantly, she returned his kiss, sampling the depths of his mouth with her tongue. He tasted vaguely alien, but not unpleasant. Nothing about Zolan was unpleasant, she reflected. Absolutely everything about him screamed pleasure and sensuality. He responded to her bold advance by growling low in his throat. That primal sound sent her passion soaring to even greater heights.

  His hand slid down over her shoulder, massaging and stroking, until he reached the swell of her hip. She gasped as he explored the curve of her buttocks through the sheer material of her dress. If he did anything else she might simply die, Cassie thought.

  But even while she reveled in his sensuous onslaught, alarm bells rang inside her head. She was supposed to be straightening things out, not complicating them further.

  A loud gasp tore through the hubbub around them.

  Zolan's lips left hers. Instantly, Cassie felt the loss of him, followed swiftly by sheer horror as she recognized the source of that gasp: Zolan's assistant, Yandi.

  "Ambassador!" Yandi's shout of dismay brought the other delegates clustering around them in a tight circle. Her dismay deepened as over Zolan's shoulder she saw Marinda hurrying toward them.

  It looked bad, very bad, Cassie realized,
with her hands still locked on Zolan's shoulders, her face flushed, and their headscarves askew. One of his long gloved hands was still tangled in her hair. The other rested on her hip in a blatant display of his possession.

  "Ambassador Zolan!" another of the delegates gasped.

  "Cassiopeia!" Marinda echoed.

  One of the Cetians separated himself from the crowd. From the elaborate way his scarf and cloak were arranged, Cassie guessed he was a personage of some importance, likely outranking even Zolan. "Ambassador Zolan, this is most inappropriate!"

  "You have a great deal of explaining to do, Protocol Officer Cassiopeia," Marinda bristled.

  To Cassie's dismay she felt Zolan's warm, gloved hands smoothing her headscarf back in place. She risked a glance at him and was startled to find him looking not a bit chagrined. He winked back at her. Grateful for the veil, Cassie blushed a deeper shade of crimson.

  "No explanation is necessary." Zolan's resonant voice silenced the multitude of objections. "Protocol Officer Cassiopeia is--I believe you say--my fiancée."

  Marinda's gasp covered another round of outraged objections from the Cetians.

  "An explanation is necessary," Cassiopeia's voice cut through the commotion. "As I was trying to explain to the Cetian Ambassador, I made a mistake in my translation." From the corner of her eye, she watched Marinda's mouth tighten. "I--" She faltered, realizing she had no choice but to blurt the embarrassing details of her error to this audience of alien delegates and her own boss. "Unfortunately, I led the Cetian Ambassador to believe that I was looking for a mate. I'm not the Ambassador's fiancée. It was just a mistake, that's all."

  "A mistake!" Marinda bent to one knee before Zolan and bowed her head in deference. "Please forgive my office for such a terrible--"

  "That's not all," Cassie interrupted. If she didn't continue, she'd lose her nerve entirely. "I believe I also gave the Ambassador the impression we would find mates for the fifty delegates that will be visiting Epsilon Station."

  Marinda leapt to her feet. Whirling upon Cassie, she snatched the station identification badge from her cloak. "Protocol Officer Cassiopeia, you are hereby relieved of your duties and your employment with the Protocol Office of Epsilon Station."