Read Online Morgan Selwood 3: A Victory Celebration by Greta van Der Rol - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Greta van Der Rol
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the memory of his
fingers on her skin, his lips on hers, his touch. She squirmed, her breath
shortening.
Oh, bloody
hell. I just can't concentrate.
The model hung in mid air, motionless. Morgan
broke the connection to the data port, leaned back in the chair and flung the
nearest object to hand across the room. "Shit."
"Morgan?" Leila Peris stared at
her, a data cube in her raised hand.
Oh, shit. That must've been what she'd
thrown. "You caught that?"
Leila nodded.
"Sorry." Morgan lifted a hand. "Just
letting out some frustration. What are you doing here? I thought you were on
leave?"
Leila stepped forward and put the data cube
back on Morgan's desk, leaning forward so she could lower her voice. "I
heard you were still on the ship. You won't be joining the admiral?"
Morgan glanced at the two techs. They were
bent over their screens. Not that it mattered. The whole ship had to be aware
that she and Ravindra were a bit more than friends.
"Not tonight. He'll be celebrating
with his men."
"Aren’t you jealous?" Leila
asked, propping a hip on the desk. They'd become friends, after a fashion.
Leila was a promising engineer who had been involved in building and testing
the model ship. She wasn't afraid to ask questions and wasn't afraid of Morgan.
Of course I'm not . "No. I’m not
the only woman in his life; never was, never will be. That’s the way it is."
Maybe a little bit jealous. But she was nothing if not pragmatic.
"Why don’t you come with us? Girls'
night out? We're going out for a really expensive dinner and then maybe to a
club to do some dancing. All the local girls will be off trying to latch on to
a fleeter so there are plenty of local guys to dance with. And don't worry if
you can't dance. We can teach you."
Female company, a good dinner, some
dancing. Yes, better than working by herself, mooning about Ravindra. Dancing.
Yes, she could dance. The memory made her smile. Would Ravindra mind? Then
again, did she care if he did? A resounding ‘no’ to that one. He lived his
life, she lived hers.
"It sounds like fun, actually,"
she said at last. "Who else is going?"
"Bella Chantriss. You know her."
Morgan nodded. The doctor who'd treated her
after her illness on Krystor.
"And two friends of mine, one from
logistics and one from catering. Don't worry, I'll tell them not to ask too
many questions."
Too many questions about her, or Ravindra. Leila
had learnt that lesson in the past few weeks. She was a good sort. So a party
of five, a girls' night out. "Okay. Let's do it."
"Great." Beaming, Leila stood. "We're
meeting at bay B-14. Wear something pretty you can dance in."
"I'll be there."
Morgan watched her leave. Dinner and dancing.
That's what she needed; to get away from here, do something different,
recharge. And right now she needed a shower and to pick an outfit.
She waved her fingers at Jarman as she
bounced out of Engineering.
Back in her quarters she riffled through
the dresses. All too staid and boring, designed for stuffy officers' messes,
not for partying. She'd wear her flexi-dress, then she could adjust if she had
to.
She connected her implant to the dress's
tiny processor and selected blue, the color of the sky at dusk. The reflectors
in the fabric shifted as instructed. For good measure she faded the color from
dark at the neckline to a few shades lighter at the hem. She added some silver
sprinkles here and there about the bodice. Mid-calf seemed to be the prevailing
fashion, fitted at the waist, scoop neckline. She spun around in front of the
mirror, watching the skirt flare. Fantastic. She was going to enjoy this.
Clutching a purse, she headed for the door. Her comunit lay on the table. She
paused, chewing on her lower lip.
Should she call him? And say what? I’m
going out with a bunch of girls, will that be all right? Oh, get real,
Morgan. He's probably picking out his fancy right now. Let him have his rut
with the rest of the boys.
In bay B-14 Leila stood next to the
fingers on her skin, his lips on hers, his touch. She squirmed, her breath
shortening.
Oh, bloody
hell. I just can't concentrate.
The model hung in mid air, motionless. Morgan
broke the connection to the data port, leaned back in the chair and flung the
nearest object to hand across the room. "Shit."
"Morgan?" Leila Peris stared at
her, a data cube in her raised hand.
Oh, shit. That must've been what she'd
thrown. "You caught that?"
Leila nodded.
"Sorry." Morgan lifted a hand. "Just
letting out some frustration. What are you doing here? I thought you were on
leave?"
Leila stepped forward and put the data cube
back on Morgan's desk, leaning forward so she could lower her voice. "I
heard you were still on the ship. You won't be joining the admiral?"
Morgan glanced at the two techs. They were
bent over their screens. Not that it mattered. The whole ship had to be aware
that she and Ravindra were a bit more than friends.
"Not tonight. He'll be celebrating
with his men."
"Aren’t you jealous?" Leila
asked, propping a hip on the desk. They'd become friends, after a fashion.
Leila was a promising engineer who had been involved in building and testing
the model ship. She wasn't afraid to ask questions and wasn't afraid of Morgan.
Of course I'm not . "No. I’m not
the only woman in his life; never was, never will be. That’s the way it is."
Maybe a little bit jealous. But she was nothing if not pragmatic.
"Why don’t you come with us? Girls'
night out? We're going out for a really expensive dinner and then maybe to a
club to do some dancing. All the local girls will be off trying to latch on to
a fleeter so there are plenty of local guys to dance with. And don't worry if
you can't dance. We can teach you."
Female company, a good dinner, some
dancing. Yes, better than working by herself, mooning about Ravindra. Dancing.
Yes, she could dance. The memory made her smile. Would Ravindra mind? Then
again, did she care if he did? A resounding ‘no’ to that one. He lived his
life, she lived hers.
"It sounds like fun, actually,"
she said at last. "Who else is going?"
"Bella Chantriss. You know her."
Morgan nodded. The doctor who'd treated her
after her illness on Krystor.
"And two friends of mine, one from
logistics and one from catering. Don't worry, I'll tell them not to ask too
many questions."
Too many questions about her, or Ravindra. Leila
had learnt that lesson in the past few weeks. She was a good sort. So a party
of five, a girls' night out. "Okay. Let's do it."
"Great." Beaming, Leila stood. "We're
meeting at bay B-14. Wear something pretty you can dance in."
"I'll be there."
Morgan watched her leave. Dinner and dancing.
That's what she needed; to get away from here, do something different,
recharge. And right now she needed a shower and to pick an outfit.
She waved her fingers at Jarman as she
bounced out of Engineering.
Back in her quarters she riffled through
the dresses. All too staid and boring, designed for stuffy officers' messes,
not for partying. She'd wear her flexi-dress, then she could adjust if she had
to.
She connected her implant to the dress's
tiny processor and selected blue, the color of the sky at dusk. The reflectors
in the fabric shifted as instructed. For good measure she faded the color from
dark at the neckline to a few shades lighter at the hem. She added some silver
sprinkles here and there about the bodice. Mid-calf seemed to be the prevailing
fashion, fitted at the waist, scoop neckline. She spun around in front of the
mirror, watching the skirt flare. Fantastic. She was going to enjoy this.
Clutching a purse, she headed for the door. Her comunit lay on the table. She
paused, chewing on her lower lip.
Should she call him? And say what? I’m
going out with a bunch of girls, will that be all right? Oh, get real,
Morgan. He's probably picking out his fancy right now. Let him have his rut
with the rest of the boys.
In bay B-14 Leila stood next to the
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