Sir’s face darkened.
“Who is this ‘Jimmy Stamos’ who denigrated your beautiful curves and made you feel bad about yourself? Perhaps I should make a special trip back to Earth when our mission is accomplished and pay him a visit.”
“What? That wasyearsago,” I told him. “I’m pretty sure Jimmy Stamos couldn’t pick me out of a lineup by this point. He’s probably forgotten he ever said anything.”
“That doesn’t matter—the damage to your self image was done,” Sir pointed out. “He gave you the idea that your curves are bad when they’re not, little one.” Kneeling beside me, he took me by the shoulders and turned me to face him. “They’re beautiful,” he said earnestly. “You’rebeautiful and I don’t like it that you’re losing your curves. What can we do to stop this?”
“You want to fatten me up?” I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. Pretty much every guy I’d ever been with had told me some variation of, “you have such a pretty face—you’d be a knockout if you just lost some weight.” Even Don had said it and I had let it slide because I thought it was a fact of life that no man was everreallygoing to want a curvy girl.
But now Sir was telling me he wanted me just the way I was—or the way I had been, anyway—before I started the all protein diet. It was a revelation to me that he actually felt that way.
“I want your curves back,” he said, nodding. “How do we stop this wasting process you’re going through?”
“Wastingprocess?” I couldn’t quite hold back a giggle—the whole diet industry would be turned on its ear if losing weight was referred to like that!
“Please don’t laugh, little one,” Sir said, frowning at me. “This isn’t funny—I amseriouslyconcerned for you. All this time I’ve been trying to be a good and conscientious Master and now I find you’re melting away in front of me!”
“Well, if you want me to get back my curves, I need real food,” I told him honestly. “Food you chew that has fat and carbs in it—not just protein. God, what I wouldn’t do for a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts right now!” I sighed wistfully, thinking of the pillowy glazed confections.
“I don’t know what ‘donuts’ are but we’ll get you some real food,” Sir promised me.
“How?” I demanded. “Every time you try to make something in the Matter Synthesizer, it just comes out as a plate of food-shaped goo.”
“I’ll be working on that—it should improve after we seal our bond,” Sir assured me. “But in the meanwhile, we are fast approaching O’nagga Nine and I know for a fact that our host, Barron Vik’tor has promised to have a splendid feast of Naggian delicacies prepared for us.”
“So we’re having a feast on the vampire planet?” I asked skeptically. “Are you sure they eat something besides blood?”
“Drinking blood figures largely in their survival but they do also require solid physical nourishment,” Sir said. “And Barron Vik’tor has less need for blood than most of them—he is only half Naggian. His other half is Braxian, I believe.”
“Is he the president of the planet or the ruler of a continent like you?” I asked.
Sir shook his head.
“No, I don’t believe so. He’s simply an extremely wealthy and successful businessman—he is also the only Naggian I could get to speak to me about the ways of his people. O’nagga Nine has a very insular society,” he added. “Of all the inhabited worlds in your little galaxy, they are the most Closed planet—besides Earth, of course.”
“So I guess they don’t like outsiders, huh?” I said, frowning.
“They shun them,” Sir said frankly. “We would not be welcome in any other building on the planet other than the Barron’s.”
“How comehe’swilling to have us, then?” I asked. “And won’t the rest of the high and mighty Naggians shunhimif they find out about it?”
“I don’t think so,” Sir said. “I believe he has so much power, wealth, and status that he is above their reproach.” He gave me his one-sided smile. “And I also got the distinct impression that the Barron doesn’t give a ‘flying fuck’ as you humans would say, what anyone else thinks of him.”
“Sounds like my kind of guy,” I remarked. “When do we meet him?”
“We should get to O’nagga Nine tomorrow,” Sir told me. “But you won’t step foot on the surface unless you promise to stay close to me.”
“I promise,” I said, nodding.
“Good. Then I’ll trust you and bring you with me.” Sir stood and put and arm around me, pulling me close to his side.
I looked at the two of us in the mirror. The top of my head barely reached his elbow—we certainly were a mismatched pair. And yet…I liked the look of the two of us together. It gave me a warm feeling in the pit of my stomach—a feeling of belonging that I had never had when I looked at pictures of Don and me together.
Stop thinking like that,I scolded myself.You still have to get back to Earth, no matter how much you’re getting to like Sir. Mom and Taylor are probably worried sick! You can’t leave the people you love wondering if you’re dead or alive or in danger somewhere. You have to go back!
And that was what I firmly intended to do. But when Sir reached down to pick me up and cuddle me in his arms, I found myself wrapping my legs around his trim, muscular waist and resting my head on his broad shoulder.
I had never felt so loved and cared for before and though I tried to put it out of my mind, I couldn’t help loving the way he held me in his arms.