disgruntled technician in charge asked them, please, to leave. He had a date.
Ataine slapped the power switch off, smiled at Dorren. 'Are you busy? We could have a date, too.'
Instantly, his expression lost its vitality. She swallowed. It never occurred to her he might already be mated.
'Not today.' He sounded stricken. 'Another time.'
Ataine shrugged. She guessed he was avoiding her. Yet as he left, she experienced a distinct uneasiness, as though something unnatural had occurred. Her disappointment must have leaked into her expression, because the technician paused in his haste to see the doors locked.
'Dorren's not mated,' he said, his face sympathetic. 'He simply prefers to be alone.'
Ataine blinked, icily sobered. 'Then keep him away from me,' she said, because too often in the past she had been attracted to the independent sort of man who 'simply needed no one.' Another was a heartache she'd avoid.
But Station was as small as a closet; inevitably Dorren's superior heard about their supreme compatibility as a team. They were assigned together.
The morning of her first survey mission, Ataine stood under the ribbed belly of the Prospector she and Dorren were to fly. Landing beacons beyond the airlock ports spilled hellish reflections through the launch tube, increasing her uneasiness. Dorren was late. Ataine waited, buffeted by drafts as the escort teams who would accompany them sealed hatches and fired up systems prior to ignition.
Dorren appeared, finally, in the service passage, still fastening his gloves. His face bore a deep scowl, and as he approached, Ataine saw his chest heave in short, hard jerks. His evident temper smothered her greeting unspoken.
Dorren seemed oblivious. He glanced at the helmet which dangled stupidly from her fingers. 'Put that on. I don't want to look at you.'
Stung past restraint, Ataine looked squarely into his face. 'I didn't ask for this. Why take your frustrations out on me?' The hurt she tried uselessly to hide made him check abruptly. He
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