Prime Obsession:The Prime Chronicles 01(5)

By: Monette Michaels

Pushing aside the urge to hold her right side, she straightened to her full five-foot-eight-inch height and approached the group of men watching her. Garth Warten, Blue Squadron’s captain, had joined the Prime, and all four of them observed her approach with varying levels of concern. Garth’s gaze had guilt underlying it. As it should. Parker should never have been on Tooh 2.

“Gentlemen,” she addressed the Prime.

Her hypersensitive ability to read emotional auras registered conflicting emotions from the Prime. Concern. Anger. Admiration. And, once again, lust.

The last reading bothered her the most. Just what she needed—three Prime males ogling her. “I would like to apologize again for Ensign Parker’s rude and insubordinate behavior towards you. Please understand that his attitudes are not representative of the Alliance.”

The Prime said nothing. Damn, she hated diplomacy.

She waited, silently urging them to accept her apology soon so that she could go somewhere and collapse.

Their amber-gold gazes suddenly turned even hotter as they fixed on an area just above her right hip bone. Her birthmark, they were staring at her birthmark.

Instead of the lust she expected from them, she read surprise … amazement … joy in their reaction to her marking.

It was odd that she could read them so accurately. The extra sixth sense, or gut instinct as she liked to call it, that she used to read people was working overtime. Or, maybe the Prime males’ strong emotions stimulated her sixth sense. She’d never been able to read others this easily; in fact, during her fight with Parker, her senses had been more preternaturally sensitive than usual.

She shook her head, causing the room to spin around her. Damn, Parker had hit her harder than she’d thought. The puzzle of the Prime’s reaction to her and their effect on her already unusual psychic gifts would have to be solved later. Right now, she needed to get the diplomacy handled so her men could take her to a hospital. Nowicki was right—

she needed medical attention—and soon.

“Excuse my lack of dress, gentlemen, but I was on leave.” And why she felt the need to explain herself, she’d never know. And why weren’t they saying anything?

Capturing their gazes, she all but dared them to continue scoping out her body. To a man, they smiled and shifted their perusal to her face. Smug amusement was the emotion of the moment. Damn them. Men! She foresaw issues with the all-male Prime military fighting alongside Alliance female soldiers, and she made a mental note to send a memo to the Admiral about that.

“Here, Captain!” Nowicki thrust a shirt at her. “Put this around you while I check on your injuries.”

“Never mind, Nowicki, I’ll take care of her injuries.” Captain Warten took her arm and sat her in chair.

Finally her fellow captain had decided to make his presence felt. Jerk. If she hadn’t needed to sit down so badly, she’d have yelled at him for being the reason she was in this situation to begin with.

“Mel, are you okay?” Garth stared into her eyes. “Damn, your whole right side is one big bruise. What the fuck were you thinking, taking on Parker in your condition? Give me that kit, Nowicki.”

He snagged the kit from her second-in-command and found an ice gun and applied it to her right side. She shuddered as the cold treatment numbed the throbbing bruise.

“Parker is out of the service. He should never have been here.”

“I totally agree,” she said with a hiss as Warten swept the ice treatment over her bruise once more, jabbing a rib in the process. After which, he stuffed her into the shirt Nowicki had provided. “Where’d you learn your first aid? From the Marquis de Sade?”

“Sorry.” Warten’s lips tilted up at the edges, then thinned with concern as his gaze swept over her face. “Ensign J’ar, call over to the hospital and have them send a vehicle for your Captain. Stat.”

Touching her colleague’s arm, she said in a low tone, “Garth, I can find my own way to the hospital. I’m fine. Really.”

Nowicki yelled over her shoulder, all irate alpha-male. “Dammit, Mel! Parker all but killed you on that last mission and now he’s had another chance. Let us take care of you!”

“Captain Dmitros.” The oldest of the three Prime approached her, a troubled smile on his strongly hewn face. “I believe your fellow officers are concerned because you are as pale as the sands on the Tooh 2 beaches. If we could be of assistance, our vehicle is outside. We can take you to the hospital so that you can be checked over, thus assuring all of us that you are truly well.”

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