No Other Love Read Online Free Page B

me here. Unless I dreamed it.”
    Glancing upward just then, Merin saw his face
by the light of the lamp in his hand, saw his mouth compressed and
his expression hard as he looked around the grotto.
    “I assume from your expression that it was
not a pleasant experience,” she said, fingers poised to record his
answer.
    “No. Yes. I’m not sure.”
    “Ah, I see.” She quickly repressed the pain
he had unwittingly inflicted upon her with his disjointed response.
She was not well informed on intimate subjects, but even she could
guess what Herne believed had happened in that chamber. She
reminded herself that jealousy was a destructive emotion. No true
Oressian would allow herself to feel it. Besides, Herne wasn’t even
sure whether the entire episode had happened or whether it had been
a dream. She tried to keep her voice neutral, telling herself that
questioning him on the matter was her duty, to ascertain the truth
for her report. “I have noticed that when men speak in such a
confused way, it is usually the result of an experience about which
they feel guilty.”
    “You see nothing!” he responded with barely
contained fury. “You with your eyes always on the ground and your
body entirely covered except for your face and hands. What do you
know about men?”
    “Nothing at all,” she replied quietly. “I
regret that you find my costume disturbing. The exact opposite was
my intent. As for my questions or comments, they are required to
elicit as much detail as possible about an incident that Tarik will
doubtless find most interesting, and possibly threatening to the
expedition.”
    “Tarik already knows. I told him.” He held
the lamp closer to her, trying to read her expression.
    “What’s this?” He caught her face with one
hand, turning it so he could better see her right cheek. “You’ve
hurt yourself.”
    “It does not matter.” She stood with her eyes
still downcast, fighting his grip on her chin.
    “It certainly does matter,” he told her. “We
don’t know what organisms live here, what infection you might
develop. Sit down on the ledge there and let me look at that cut
more closely.”
    Obediently, Merin selected a spot on the
ledge as far as possible from the tiny skeleton. After pulling off
his shoulder-kit, Herne sat beside her, shining the light full on
her wounded cheek.
    “Why didn’t you tell me about this at once?”
he asked, reaching one hand into his medical supplies. “You know
the rules about reporting all injuries.”
    “It is insignificant.” She tried to stop the
trembling that had seized her when he thrust the lamp into her
hands before moving her face about to examine the damage.
    “Merin, it is your duty to take proper care
of yourself. Tarik needs a healthy company.” Herne broke open a
vial of sterilizing antimicrobial salve and began to apply it.
    “I will remember in the future.” The salve
stung, but she would not flinch. Herne pressed a piece of
flesh-colored plastiskin over the wound.
    “I don’t think you will develop a scar,” he
said, “but if you do, I can perform a cosmetic repair after we
return to headquarters. It would be a shame to leave a scar on your
skin when it’s so perfect. You don’t have a single blemish that I
can see.”
    “Thank you for your help.” Setting down the
lamp, she rose, putting distance between them, and her trembling
eased a little.
    “Do all Oressian women have such beautiful
complexions?” he asked, repacking his kit while he spoke.
    “I do not know.”
    “Covering up so completely probably helps,
though of course your face and hands are exposed to the elements.
Why do you always wear that outfit and the headgear?”
    “I don’t know! Don’t ask me!”
    “Don’t know or won’t say?”
    “It is rude to question the customs of
others!” Blazing anger roared through her, filling every nerve and
vein, heating the very marrow of her bones. This was why Oressian
discipline was so strict, to prevent just this