Trial and Temptation (Mandrake Company) Read Free Page A

wish me to give it?”
    Hell, no. “Never mind, sir. I’ll ask the roommate you mentioned.” A roommate, after having an entire freighter ship to herself on most runs. Wouldn’t this be fun? “If there’s nothing else…?” She picked up the duffel and hefted it over her shoulder.
    “Only one other matter.” Thatcher frowned at her—at her chest specifically. “Captain Mandrake insists that a uniform isn’t necessary for a mercenary company with little more than a hundred soldiers.” Something it sounded like he didn’t approve of… “However, this crew is ninety percent male, some with felonious pasts. You may wish to dress less revealingly.”
    Revealingly? Val gaped at him. The only skin showing was that of her face, neck, and her hands. Yes, her breasts filled out her blouse nicely, and maybe the garment was the teensiest bit snug in that area, and maybe she didn’t have all of the buttons done up, but she had butt-hugger skirts and shirts that dipped to her belly button. This was chaste by most people’s standards.
    “You’re saying the crew won’t be able to keep from pawing me unless I wear a bag? Aren’t there rules against that?” Val held up her own tablet, which had presumably received his files by now.
    “There are rules forbidding physical contact. Verbal crudeness is rarely punished.” His lips pursed with… disapproval? That was mostly how things had been in the GalCon military, too, but maybe he found the mercenaries more savage and lawless in comparison. So, what had caused him to leave his cushy teaching job to come here, then?
    No, she didn’t care. About his past or about him. The sooner she got away from his uncomfortable presence and went about proving herself capable for this job, the better.
    “Thanks for the tip, sir.” Val didn’t bother to add a smile to soften her sarcasm that time.
    She wished she could think of some advice to give him on his clothing choice, but his boots were shined, his trousers pressed, and not so much as a wrinkle or a piece of hair plagued his shirt or jacket. Sighing, she walked out the door and strode down the corridor, only to realize she had no idea where she was going. She pulled out her tablet.
    “You would not find a map more preferable?” she mocked in his stiff formal tone, then glanced over her shoulder to make sure he hadn’t come out after her. He was going to be her commander here if she got the job. She had better keep the attitude to a minimum. Or at least do her best to avoid him.

Chapter 2
    Commander Gregor Thatcher had not handled that interview well. He had struggled all of his life to grasp the emotions of others, but in this case, he was certain he had annoyed Val Calendula.
    Cadet Calendula, he corrected. He should not think of her by first name, even if he wished to do so. She had not invited any such familiarity, and they were once again in a commander-subordinate relationship.
    Strange that the attraction he had felt for her ten years ago should come back and hit him with such force. But perhaps it was not. He forgot little, and he vividly remembered what had drawn him to her back then. She had possessed neither great athleticism, great intelligence, nor great aptitude for flying, but she had never given up and had persevered at the academy despite facing challenge after challenge that had come easily for her more gifted peers. And all right, he might have been drawn to her fine physical attributes, as well. Not the lithe leanness of a born athlete, as many who chose a soldier’s life seemed to have, but feminine curves that had bounced delightfully when she ran the obstacle course at the training compound. She had a pretty and lively face, with dimples that flashed when she smiled and gray-blue eyes that reminded him of the sea on a stormy day back on his home world of Paradise.
    Unfortunately, the only smile she had ever given him had been less than sincere. He had always struggled to understand sarcasm when he had