“Just put the bags inside the front door,” Grayson instructed, eager to keep the batarians from traipsing through his home. “I’ll figure out someplace to hide them.”

“What’s the matter, human?” Sanak growled. “Don’t you trust us?”

Grayson didn’t bother to answer.

“Aria’s waiting for our report,” he said. “Why don’t you and your friends go fill her in.”

Liselle waited until the batarians were gone, then came over and draped her arms around his neck, pressing herself close against him. He could feel the heat emanating off her, and the faint perfume wafting up from her neck made his head spin.

“You’re not coming to the club?” she whispered in his ear, disappointed.

Grayson could imagine the sultry pout playing across her lips, and he felt a flush rising up his neck and into his cheeks. Liselle always made him feel like a cradle robber, despite the fact she was at least a full century older than him.

It’s different with asari, the churlish part of his mind admonished. They mature slowly. She’s still a babe in the woods, and you’re a weathered geezer pushing middle age. She’s probably got more in common with your daughter than with you.

“I’ll be there,” Grayson promised, giving her a quick kiss even as he unraveled her arms from his neck and gently pushed her away. “I just have to take care of a few things first.”

She turned away from him, letting her fingers trail along the length of his arm as she did so.

“Don’t take too long,” she called out over her shoulder as she headed for the door. “You might find me dancing with a krogan if I get bored.”

When the door closed, he took a long, slow breath to clear his head. The lingering scent of perfume filled his nostrils, but without Liselle pressed up against him it didn’t have the same overpowering effect.