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Chapter 19
Killashandra woke before the chimes, which did not sound in her suite but were
nevertheless audible from the adjacent sections of the Conservatory.
She woke refreshed and totally relaxed, and cautiously eased herself away from
Lars's supine body so that she might have a better view of his sleeping form.
She fell oddly protective of him as she propped her head on one hand and
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minutely inspected his profile. Thus she noticed that the tips of his long
eyelashes were bleached and the lid itself was not as dark as the surrounding
skin. Fine laugh, or sun lines, fanned out from the corners to the temple. The
arch of his nose just missed being too high, too thin, being balanced by fine
modeling and length. His cheeks wore a dusting of freckles which she hadn't
noticed before. And several dark brow hairs were out of line as the brow
curved around the eye socket. Several hairs bristled straight up at the inner
edges of brows that would almost meet when he frowned.
She liked best his wide lips, more patrician than sensual. She knew the havoc
they could raise with her body and felt they were perhaps his best feature.
Even in sleep, the corners raised slightly. His chin was rather broader than
one was aware when his face was mobile, but the strong jawline swept back to
well-shaped ears, also tan, with a spot of new sunburn about to peel on the
top skin.
The column of his neck was strong and the pulse beat in his throat.
She wanted to put her finger tip on it and almost did before retracting her
hand. He was more truly hers when asleep, untouched by stress, relaxed, his
rib cage barely moving.
She loved the line of his chest, the smooth skin clothing smooth pectoral
muscle, and once again she had to repress the wish to run her hand down the
shape of him, to feel the fine crisp hair on his chest. He was not hirsute and
she found that much to her preference as well, his legs and arms having only a
fine dusting of blond hairs.
She had seen handsomer men but the composition of his face pleased her better.
Lanzecki -- now that was the first time she'd thought of him in days --
actually was the more distinguished in looks, heavier in build. She decided
she preferred the way Lars Dahl was put together.
She sighed. It was easier to be philosophical about Lanzecki. Would she have
been as easily resigned to that loss if she hadn't met Lars Dahl?
She had broken off with Lanzecki for his own good, but she hadn't "lost"
him, for she would return to Ballybran. Once she'd left Optheria . . .
For a moment her emotions hovered above a new abyss of despair and regret. And
for the first time in her life, the thought of bearing a man's child crossed
her mind. That was as much an impossibility as remaining with
Lars, but it emphasized the depth of her emotional involvement with the man.
Perhaps it was just as well that no child was possible, that their liaison
would end when this assignment was over. She surprised herself!
Children were something other people had. To feel that desire was remarkable.
Optheria, for all its conservatism and alleged security, had unexpected facets
of danger. Not the least of which were her adventures so far. She could hardly
fault Trag, or rail at the Encyclopedia Galactica.
Facts she had had. What couldn't have been foreseen were the astonishing
predicaments which had entangled her. And the fascinating personalities.
More extraordinary still, she remembered all too vividly, and with just a
trace of chagrin, her rantings and ravings and desperation's when she'd left
Ballybran, a sacrifice to the Guild for Lanzecki's good. Now, when
contemplating a much deeper and irreversible loss, why was she so calm,
fatalistically resigned, even philosophical. How very strange! Had her loss of
Lanzecki inured her to others? Or was she mistaking her feelings for Lars
Dahl? No! She'd remember Lars Dahl for the rest of her life without benefit of
data retrieval.
The second chimes rang faintly across the open court outside the windows.
Faint but sufficient to waken Lars. He was as neat on wakening as he was in
sleep. His eyes opened, his right hand searched for her body, his head turned
and his smile began as he located her. Then he stretched, arms above his head,
back arching toward her as he extended his legs and then on the top of his
extension, suddenly retracted himself, drawing her against him, to complete a
morning ritual which included the exercise of their intimate relationship.
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Each time, they seemed to discover something new about themselves and their
responses. She particularly liked Lars's capacity for invention, stimulating
as it did heretofore unsuspected originalities in herself.
As usual hunger roused them from these variations.
"Breakfast here is the heartiest meal," Lars said cheerfully, striding quickly
for the catering unit. "You'll like it."
Killashandra saw that he had left the jammer behind him, and she followed him
at a quick trot, holding the device up to distort anything else he might say.
He laughed. "We'd best leave them something to hear. A discussion of breakfast
must be sufficiently innocuous."
Killashandra settled in one of the chairs near the catering unit, swiveling
her hand as she looked at the little jammer. If only some way could be found
to mask that mineral residue in Optherians! Blank out the detector.
"You know," Killashandra said as they ate, sitting companionably together on
the elegant seating unit, "I simply cannot understand this concentration on
one instrument -- albeit a powerful one -- but they're wiping out more than
ninety-nine percent of the FSP's musical traditions and repertoire, as well as
stultifying talents and potential. I mean, your tenor is formidable!"
Lars shrugged, giving her a tolerant side glance. "Everyone sings
-- at least in the islands, they do."
"But you know how to sing."
Lars cocked an eyebrow at her, still humoring what he felt was her excessive
fascination with a minor ability.
"Everyone knows how to sing -- "
"I don't mean just opening the mouth and shouting, Lars Dahl. I
mean, projecting a voice, supporting it properly on the breath, phrasing the
music, carrying the dynamic line forward.
"When did I do all that?"
"When we did that impromptu duet. When you sang on the beach, when you did
that magnificent duet from The Pearl Fishers."
"I did?"
"Of course. I studied voice for ten years. I -- " She shut her mouth.
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