"Miller,.Steve.And.Lee,.Sharon.-.Liaden.Universe.01.-.Conflict.Of.Honors.v1.1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Miller Steve)

and distributions. All according to book. And yet there was
something…

With a scrape and a thump the second mate was with her. Priscilla
jumped, splashing greasy soup on her sleeve. Clamping her teeth,
she patiently daubed at the spot, avoiding Dagmar's eyes. The
second grinned and leaned back in the chair, flinging her legs out
before her.

"Scare you, Prissy?"

Priscilla's slim shoulders stiffened. Dagmar's grin widened.

"I was thinking." There was no emotion in the cargo master's soft,
level voice.

"That's our Prissy," Dagmar said indulgently. "Always thinking." She
leaned across the tiny table and touched the back of a slender
hand, delighting in the slight withdrawal. "What about after dinner,
though? What say I bring along something to keep you from
thinking, and we have fun?"

"I'm sorry," Priscilla said, hoping she sounded like it, "but the
distribution charts are behind. I'm going to have to spend some of
this off-shift getting caught up."

Dagmar shook her head, secretly pleased at Prissy's seemingly
endless supply of excuses. The game had run three months now.
Dagmar considered the quarry worthy of an extended pursuit. It
might be easier if the girl weren't so serious about her work—and
so popular with the crew. The younger woman wasn't much on
getting high or sleeping around. But Dagmar knew that Priscilla
would have to relax and reveal a weak point one day—and when
she finally did catch Prissy out, the spoils would be that much
sweeter.

"That's all right," she said consolingly. "You work as hard as you
want. Good to see that in a new hire. And at the end of the run—if
you do real good—I'll give you a reward." She narrowed her eyes a
bit, looking for signs of distress on the other woman's face. She
detected none and played her ace.

"A reward," she repeated, and reached across the table to take
one cool, slim hand in hers. "How 'bout… at the end of the run you
and me go off—just us two—and have a Hundred Hours together?
Huh? A hundred hours of loving and cuddling and fancy food and
drink. Don't that sound nice?"

It did, Priscilla admitted to herself. Present company excluded.