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  “I only did what was necessary to help you get over the effects of the sex-milk,” Shad said shortly. “I’m sorry if you interpreted it to mean…more than it was.”

  Then he left because he knew if he stayed the truth would come out and he wouldn’t be able to hide how he felt for her. As much as he tried not to, how he still loved her.

  Chapter Twelve

  After he left, Harper cried.

  She didn’t want to do it—she hated crying. It made her feel girly and weak and out of control—just the worst. But the intense physical connection she’d shared with Shad—or thought she’d shared anyway—had leaked away leaving only a horrible feeling of rejection in its place.

  Did I do something to turn him off? Something to disgust him or make him angry? she asked herself as she huddled on the bed in a ball of misery. Why would he act like he cared—like he loved me—one minute and then be so cold and businesslike the next?

  She had no answers and after a while, it became clear she wasn’t going to find any lying on the bed crying.

  “Stop it, Harper,” she said out loud, forcing herself to sit up on the big round bed. “Stop it and pull yourself together. This isn’t on you—Shad is the one being a jerk.”

  Hearing the words aloud made her feel better even if she wasn’t completely convinced they were true. She told herself it was just difficult to go from being so intensely intimate with a man back to being acquaintances all in the space of a few heartbeats.

  Anyway, that’s all you are—acquaintances, she tried to tell herself. You haven’t even known him a whole day yet.

  So then why did it feel like she’d known the big Kindred forever? And why did she have the feeling that she’d let him into her heart a long time ago and there was no getting him out again?

  Ignoring these maudlin feelings, Harper forced herself to get off the bed and go back into the huge marble bathroom. She checked herself in the 5-way mist mirror and was relieved to see that her breasts were back to their normal size and not even a drop of nectar came from her nipples when she squeezed.

  Shad was right—I really am cured. She felt a rush of relief and gratitude towards the big Kindred…closely followed by a stab of anger and hurt. How dare he…

  Her thoughts derailed abruptly. How dare he what? Cure her and then leave her? Save her from a horrible fate and then get on with his life?

  Well if he can get on with his life, I can damn well get on with mine, too, Harper told herself firmly. No more mooning over a man who I can’t have—who clearly doesn’t want me. It’s time to get serious about getting myself changed so I’m no longer a ten’sora and getting back home to my real life on Earth.

  “Besides,” she told her reflection out loud. “You’re an Empress now—remember? So act like it!”

  Taking her own advice, she decided the first thing to do was to take a shower in the massive shower stall—which took up one whole side of the room—and wash the rest of the nectar and the just-had-sex sweat off her skin. At least, she assumed it was a shower stall—she saw silver nozzles inset on the ceiling and walls and even the floor but no obvious controls to start the flow of water.

  “Well, they have to be in here somewhere,” Harper muttered to herself, dropping her robe as she stepped in. “I’ll just—oh!”

  Her words ended in a gasp because the moment she stepped all the way into the long rectangular stall, warm water sprayed her from all sides and also rained down from above, drenching her immediately. Harper gasped—it was like being caught in a perfectly temperature-controlled rainstorm. It felt nice but it was also pretty shocking since she hadn’t been expecting it.

  She had been planning to try and keep her hair dry but there was no way now—it was as wet as the rest of her. Well crap—what was she going to do? Her mixed-girl curly hair wasn’t just wash and go like some of her white friends—it required very specific care and products to keep it from frizzing or breaking.

  Wiping water out of her eyes, Harper was startled to see a shelf protruding from the shower wall which she hadn’t noticed earlier. On it, were a familiar array of bottles and tubes—all her favorite hair care products from Earth were here!

  “Wow!” she muttered, picking up a tube of Miss Jessie’s Multicultural Curls. “I can’t believe they have this here.” The Master forger must have gotten some of the things she liked and needed out of her own head when he crafted the space yacht for her, she reasoned as she squeezed some product into the palm of her hand and began to rub it into her hair. It was the only explanation for the hair products, the deluxe bathing and sleeping facilities, and the wardrobe filled with clothes.

  I can have anything I want here—everything I’ve ever daydreamed about is right here aboard this ship and it’s all mine, Harper realized.

  So why did she still feel so unhappy?

  “Because you’re being stupid,” she told herself out loud, rubbing her scalp vigorously. “Which is what you need to stop right now.”

  Still, it was hard to get over what had just happened between herself and the big Kindred. What was all that mess with him telling her his whole life was devoted to her and making her look into his eyes while he made her come?

  He messed with my head, Harper thought as she rinsed her hair and reached for another bottle. Messed with my head and messed with my heart. Well, if I get a chance I’m going to mess with him right back.

  Feeling angry was easier and safer than feeling hurt and used and unloved—she decided to stick with that emotion and run with it. She held her head high as she finally finished in the shower and stepped out onto the soft white furry rug which seemed to suck all the moisture away from her body in a downward drawing motion. She hardly needed the big, fluffy towels which were piled in an elegant stack on a small golden pedestal located to the right of the shower door.

  She took one anyway because she liked the feel of the soft fabric against her skin and patted herself dry. It was time to check out her closet and see what an Empress wore—time to forget about Shad and focus on the matter at hand.

  Getting done with all this mess so she could get home and forget him.

  * * * * *

  “Come in,” Harper called when she heard a knock on the door of her vast, opulent bedroom. She’d been looking at the dresses in the wardrobe and trying some of them on. All of them fit her to a T although most were a good deal more revealing than she would have liked. Still, she looked amazingly hot in them which was nice—after what had happened with Shad, she needed a shot of self- confidence.

  It had been almost a week since the big Kindred had helped cure her of the sex-milk symptoms and Harper estimated he hadn’t said ten words to her since, not even at meals, which was pretty much the only time she saw him.

  Shad’s excuse for this was that she had to learn to act like an Empress and since he was supposed to be only her bodyguard, he naturally wouldn’t be chit-chatting with her at the dinner table. No, his job was to stand behind her chair and look imposing while he watched for possible threats. Harper’s job was to eat daintily and looked perfect and posh and royal.

  They both practiced their roles at every meal which was how Harper found herself sitting alone at a long perfectly polished dark wood table eating from golden plates and drinking from golden cups and not tasting a thing because she could feel Shad standing behind her chair while they didn’t exchange a word.

  It was miserable but it was also the only time she got to see the big Kindred. Harper spent the rest of the time in her room, reading or watching vids on the Interweb. What else could she do?

  Whoever it was knocked on the door again and Harper frowned. Sometimes the clone-maids who waited on her were a little too deferential and hesitant.

  “I said you can come in,” she called.

  A male servant in black and silver livery opened the door and bowed low before her.

  “My Empress, we are approaching Pelegiez-R where She Who Alters holds court,” he said, speaking deferentially to her feet,