"Even Hauk?"

The cleaver thumped louder. "Especially Hauk."

Kiara wondered at his words. How could an Andarion be made uncomfortable by another of his kind?

Who was this man in her home?

She realized she wouldn't find out. the answer today. "I need to dress," she said quietly, leaving the kitchen.

Thank you, Nykyrian thought to himself. The low-dip in the front of her robe caused him quite a bit of discomfort. Since she had called his attention to the studio, the only thing he had really noticed was the tiny droplets of water clinging to the deep cleft of her breasts.

He vowed to keep his mind on business not Kiara's body.To help achieve his goal, he switched on the disc player located on the kitchen counter.

As he finished placing the meat and vegetables into a dish, he heard Rachol's knock code on the door.

Kiara came running from her room, fastening the last three buttons of her blouse.

Nykyrian groaned inwardly, regretting he had ever told her he wasn't interested in her body. No doubt, she figured she could run about naked and not stir him. This was going to be a long mission.

Reining his body back into his rigid control, Nykyrian moved to the door.

Kiara opened it, admitting Rachol and her father.

"Thank God," the Commander said and pulled her into his arms. "When I saw the bodies, I was terrified you were hurt.'"

Another wave of panic threatened to consume Kiara as she thought over her near death.

"Luckily Nykyrian and Rachol were there," she said.

Tiarun released her and faced Nykyrian. "I thought you people were going to wait until tomorrow before starting your protection."

"Had we waited, she would be dead," Nykyrian said with his usual nonchalance, making Kiara wonder if anything ever set his temper off, or elicited any other "normal"

response.

Her father tensed before nodding at Nykyrian's callous words. "I wanted to tell you about this," he said to Kiara, rubbing her arm tenderly. "I was waiting until after your performance. I didn't want to upset you."

"I'm not upset," she lied, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

Tiarun gave her a grim smile. He looked back at Nykyrian with the stern frown that never failed to intimidate Kiara. "I do have misgivings about this. I warned Nemesis, now I warn you. Should anything happen to her, I won't rest until I have destroyed every member of the OMG."

Nykyrian had to stifle his disbelieving snort. "We're professionals. Kiara is safer with us than she would ever be with you," he replied calmly.

Tiarun narrowed his eyes in a way that made Nykyrian want to growl in response. "She'dbetter be. I intend to keep in constant contact." Tiarun pulled Kiara back into his arms, giving her a tight hug. "I hate to leave, but I need to get back to the base and deal with the reporters and paperwork over what happened tonight. If you need me. call."

"I will," she promised, kissing his cheek.

"I'll check on you when I get home."

"Okay." Reluctantly, she closed the door behind him.

Kiara frowned at the mocking expression on Rachol's face as he walked to Nykyrian.

"Parental worries? Yuck!" Rachol shuddered.

Nykyrian shoved his shoulder. "Don't mock."

"Come on, Kip. Doesn't it give you the boowahs?"

Kiara stared at Rachol, curious about his words, angered over the way he acted about her father's concern. "Don't your parents ever worry over either of you?" she asked acidly.

"What parents?" Rachol returned.

A ripple of shock went through Kiara. "Are they dead?"

"Careful," Nykyrian said, returning to the kitchen. "You might not want an answer."

Frowning, she tried to understand his cryptic response. "What do you mean?"

"Kip wasn't born, he was spawned." Rachol smiled.

Now she was completely confused. "Who's Kip?"

Rachol indicated Nykyrian with his thumb.

"You were a tubey?"

Nykyrian glanced up from his dinner preparations. "Rachol has a brain disorder that causes him to lie most of the time. Ignore him."

So Nykyrian wasn't a test-tube baby. This really didn't make a bit of sense. "But neitherof you has parents?"

Nykyrian grimaced. "We're orphans."

"That's what I asked to begin with," Kiara said, watching Rachol take a seat on one of her stools.

They ignored her agitated voice.

"Are you staying for dinner?" Nykyrian asked, handing Rachol a glass of spara juice.

"Do you mind?" Rachol asked Kiara.

"No," she said, surprised by the honesty of the statement.

For some reason, she liked Rachol despite his unorthodox looks. His dark brown hair was pulled back into a short ponytail. His brown eyes were ringed in black eye-liner, giving him the look of a feral hunting beast. Two silver hoops hung from his left earlobe.

He was definitely not the type of man who attracted her, but she had to admit, he was oddly handsome.

Kiara shifted her gaze to Nykyrian as he talked with Rachol. He seemed far more at ease with Rachol than he had with his other two friends.

As Rachol made another joke, she realized Nykyrian never smiled or laughed. She couldn't remember ever seeing him do either. For some reason, she wanted to see his lips curl up and hear his laugh.

What could take away someone's laughter?

Her chest tightened as she considered the life he must have lived. No parents, no laughter, a League Assassin. In truth, it was a miracle he was still alive.

She wanted to solve the enigma before her.

Nykyrian might not be interested in her, but she had a deep curiosity about him. And she had never been one to leave a mystery unsolved. Kiara promised herself in the coming days, she would delve into his mind and find out what there was underneath those glasses and his distant manner.

Four

Kiara was talking to her father over the telelink when Rachol took his leave. Nykyrian listened to her soft voice drifting from her room. The silken, dulcet tone pierced him.

Forcing his mind to business as he had promised himself, he retrieved his portable computer terminal from the bag Hauk had left for him on the floor.

Nykyrian took a seat on the couch and unzipped the terminal. Kiara's laugh rippled, causing a bittersweet pain to twist his stomach. He clenched his fists and ran through the litany his adoptive father had forced him to recite while growing up- He was a warrior, a killer. He didn't need anyone. He was stronger alone.

His thoughts back on his job, he switched on the terminal. The bright blue screen glared, causing him to flinch. His eyes burned from the strain of wearing his glasses indoors, but despite the pain, he didn't dare remove them around Kiara.

Maybe he should have assigned Rachol watch duty tonight. This mission was bound to be his undoing.

He had spent the entire dinner wanting her, feeling her presence next to him. If only he hadn't allowed her to touch him at the theatre, he might have been able to banish her from his thoughts.

Nykyrian scoffed at himself. Who was he trying to fool? Since the first performance he had seen her in, he hadn't been able to banish her from his thoughts. She had haunted his dreams like a stalking phantom out to steal his rotting soul.

He sighed wearily. This mission was definitely not what he needed to help him get her out of his mind. He heard her finish her conversation. She entered the front room with a warm smile on her face as she looked at him. Nykyrian's blood raced in heated response to her gentle look.

"Is Rachol gone?" she asked cheerfully.

"Yes," he said, forcing himself to concentrate on his work.

Kiara sat in her favorite chair, across from him. Her father's dire words echoed in her ears. He had warned her of the OMG's ferocity, telling her they killed on contract without emotions.Watching Nykyrian closely, she tried to read his thoughts. Though his face didn't betray any tell-tale signs of feelings, She knew he had them. No one was totally devoid of emotions.

Nykyrian's own words drifted through her mind. Emotions are bred out of us during training. She still refused to believe he was emotionless. Were that true, he wouldn't have comforted her while she cried.

A wicked smile curved her lips as she studied his lean, muscular build. She had seen and been held by many men who constantly worked to improve their physical appearance, but none of them had ever appealed to her as much as the man before her now. A man whose distance annoyed her.

She wasn't used to having to fight for someone's attention. Usually, she fought to escape it. Kiara wondered if maybe that was part of her attraction for him- the old hard-to-get routine.

But as she studied him, she realized even if that were part of it, there was much more to her desire than just the challenge of the aloof. There was something about him that called out to her like a hurt child needing comfort. Kiara almost laughed aloud at the thought. She stared at Nykyrian, his jaw tense, his features blank. No, there didn't appear to be anything about him even close to frail.

So why did she feel this way? "What are you working on?" she finally asked.

He growled a low warning in his throat that made her a bit uneasy. "I have a lot of work that needs to be finished. I'm not here to be sociable. I'm here only to protect you."

Kiara folded her arms around her leg and rested her chin on her knee. She watched his flying fingers, the keys of the terminal clicking beneath them. "But since you're here . .

." His fingers stopped, the sudden silence echoed around her, increasing her discomfort.

"I just thought you might as well tell me something about yourself. We could end up spending days together, weeks, and I for- "

"Fine," he snapped, cutting her off.

Kiara hid her triumphant smile behind her knee, but she was sure her eyes glowed in mischief.

Nykyrian sat back and defensively crossed his arms over his chest. "If it will solace your mind, I will allow you to ask eight questions about me. After that, you'll never again askme another thing about my past, or my friends, and you'll remain quiet and let me finish what I'm doing."

The sharp, clipped words irked her. She stared at him, trying to think of things that would give her some advantage over him. "Okay," she said, as she thought of the first one. "What's your surname?"

"One, Quiakides."

Surprise widened her eyes. "As in the universally famed and acclaimed Commander Huwin Quiakides of the Intergalactic League of Peacekeepers?"

He sighed. "Two, yes."

"Was he your father?"

She thought she noticed his teeth clench before he answered, "Three, yes."

Kiara gave an unladylike snort. "That doesn't count. You should have said that when I asked the second question."

He shrugged in an aggravating manner of disinterest. "Be specific. Anything counts."

Kiara sat for a minute, thinking over what little information Mira had given her while she had been in the OMG's base. "If he was your father, why did you leave the League?"

This time, she definitely saw the angry tick in his jaw as his features hardened. "How did you know I was in the League?"

Kiara gulped at the harsh, deadly tone. At that moment, she could easily imagine him tearing someone into pieces and she had no desire for that someone to be either her or Mira. "I just heard it somewhere. It is true, isn't it? You were a League Assassin?"

Some of the tenseness left his lips, and she wondered why. "Four, yes."

Kiara was getting tired of him numbering his answers. "You know, you could try and be a little friendlier."

"I'm not paid to be nice. I'm paid to kill."

A lump of dread closed her throat at the thought. "Do you like to kill?" she asked, herthroat growing tighter by the heartbeat.

Kiara witnessed the first visible, emotional response from him- he winced as if she had struck him. His breathing became labored in anger and he slammed the terminal closed with a sharp snap before he tossed it aside. Without a word, he left the room.

Kiara sat in her chair for several minutes, wondering about his reaction. Since he brought the subject of his killings up so often, why would her question bother him? She went to find out.

He stood in front of the blast shields in her studio, She watched him from the doorway as he slid his hand over the plastic panels as if looking for a hole. He appeared calm.