Padraig waited until Obi Wan left with Captain Typho to check on the building's security before he approached Anneke. She was standing by the window, gazing out over the city of Coruscant, idly playing with the fine braid over her right ear. The remainder of her thick sun-coloured hair was caught up in a twist at the nape of her neck, and her Jedi robes flowed around her, teasing him with hints of curves and long limbs.
When he'd first seen her, she'd been covered in grease and he'd still thought she was the prettiest girl he'd ever met. Now she was tall—though still a head shorter than him—and the years of training with the Jedi had toned her muscles and accentuated her natural agility. Everything about her—her movements, her gaze, the way she carried herself—spoke of grace and power.
She turned to face him as he stepped forward, her sky-blue eyes meeting his, and he stopped dead. Everything he had been about to say fled his mind, and his heart began to beat against his ribs. For five years, he had tried to forget the slave girl from Tattooine, telling himself that his memories of her were exaggerated. But she was even more beautiful than he remembered, and she now carried an aura of power and confidence that was nearly irresistible.
Taking a deep breath, he brought his emotions back under control. His throat was tight, and his voice sounded cold and formal to his own ears. "I have a plan to trap the assassin."
She nodded, her eyes cool. "Yes, Senator?"
He had once hoped she might return his feelings, but now it looked like she wanted only to do her job. He pushed back the disappointment. Jedi couldn't have relationships. It was better if she didn't feel anything for him. "How sharp are your Jedi senses?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Why?"
Though they were alone, he tilted his head toward her, leaning in as if sharing a secret. "If I were to turn off the alarms on my windows, would you know if someone were to break in?"
"Of course." She looked rather offended. "I can sense everything going on in this building."
He nodded, impressed. "Perfect. I will also program my droid to warn you if he detects anything. If this assassin tries again tonight, I believe we can catch him."
She raised an eyebrow. "Him? What makes you think the assassin isn't female?"
"Well…" He fumbled, at a loss for words. "I don't know."
"We females can be anything." She put her hands on her hips and grinned, and he once again forgot what he was talking about.
Gods, but he could drown in that smile! No. He had to keep this professional. Wrenching his eyes away from her, he said, "Yes, of course." He rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the floor, the walls, the ceiling, anywhere but at her. "Will your master agree to this plan?"
He could hear the steel in her voice when she replied, "Let me deal with Obi Wan. I want to catch this assassin."
Padraig sat up suddenly, disoriented. He had slept much longer—and deeper—than he had planned, and he couldn't make sense of the chaos around him. Someone stood over him on his bed; a lightsaber blade flashed past, inches from the skin on his bare chest, and he froze; something flew across the room and hit the wall with a heavy wet thud; and the bed rocked as the figure with the lightsaber stepped off. A second figure crashed through the window, and caught hold of a flying droid; in seconds, he disappeared into the night.
When he could breathe again, Padraig realized it was Anneke who had been standing over him when he awoke, who had attacked something that had been in his bed. She had her back to him now, nudging something on the floor with her toe, her lightsaber still glowing blue by her side. She turned around, and he pulled the sheet up to cover himself, faking a shiver as he realized how ridiculous he looked. Hopefully, she would think he was cold, and not trying to hide like a blushing maiden.
"Stay here!" she ordered him, and she strode from the room. He watched her go, thoroughly speechless. And yet, he couldn't wait to see her again.