by Viola Grace
Inside her rooms, he moved swiftly, placing her on the bed, putting her trident on the rack and then removing her clothing.
As he touched her, she stirred slightly. Her body woke sluggishly at his touch, but she was too tired.
“You have had a long day, and how do you get into these boots?”
“Yes, I have, and practice.”
“I think there will be no additional exertion for tonight. Just sleep and recover. I need you strong, partner. Rest and I will bring something for you to drink when you wake up.”
She nodded and lay in the shadows, letting her body pull the heat from the room around her. He left her, and she immediately ran to the solar shower as fast as she could while swaying under the weight of exhaustion.
The heat was wonderful, and her hair crackled with cleanliness when she returned to bed.
She had just turned onto her side with a sheet over her for modesty when Devnin returned. Next to her bed, he peeled off his clothing and crawled under the sheet with her. He cuddled her close and pressed a kiss to her temple.
“I was exhausted when I started here as well. You will get used to focussing your talent with time. Build up mental muscles and you will become even more formidable than you currently are.” He squeezed her.
She chuckled and relaxed, letting the passive draw of heat from his body to hers take its course.
Rox woke feeling bright and alive; she jumped out of bed and tried to get dressed. Her uniform was gone, as was her spare and as was her husband.
Her Terran clothing was in her wardrobe, and she felt well enough to wear jeans and a t-shirt before leaving the room.
The kitchen and dining room were empty, but she could see a group gathered on the tarmac. The head count of five came out all right, so she made herself two cups of caf and a bowl of cooked grain from the dispenser.
She carried everything to the dining table and ate her breakfast, though it seemed more like brunch based on the position of the sun in the sky.
The Guardians came back in carrying boxes and grinning.
Devnin set one box on the table. “You have a present from Guardian Base Yacaro.”
Rowen grunted and put another box down. “Presents. Plural.”
She finished her breakfast and brought her bowl and cups to the washer.
“It’s like Christmas.” She rubbed her hands together and reached for the first box.
Devnin stopped her. “There is a note.”
She blinked and took the piece of paper. Written in English was a letter.
Dear Roxelena,
When I started seeing you in my thoughts, I didn’t know what to make of you. I thought that the ice was frankly a metaphor for being frigid. When the images of you and Fire Fall began to appear in my paintings, I knew that there was more to it.
The Alliance has asked for our assistance in providing you with clothing containing thermal properties that would allow it to go from a thousand degrees to absolute zero if need be. It took some effort, but all the clothing enclosed in those boxes will allow you to use your talent without having any issues. If you need an alteration, let me know and I will send the tailor to you. He needs to get out more and his wife would enjoy seeing another Terran.
Enjoy the clothing and the collapsible version of your trident as well as a few accessories that are included. They just couldn’t stop themselves once they started.
Love and support,
Rhoda of Yacaro, another Terran of the Imperium
Rox started to open the boxes with help from the eager Guardians, and soon, she had gowns that rivalled the one Rowen had worn the previous evening, shawls, day dresses, trousers and boots. When she grabbed the clothing and made a run to her room, she came back in a day dress that breathed like she wasn’t wearing anything at all.
Devnin blinked at her and went to his knees. “Roxelena will you wear the mark of the Niil family?”
She smiled. “It is the dress, right? Guys love it when you cover up and then show a little ankle.”
He kissed her palms. “I would have you with or without the dress, and I hope I will.”
“Yes, I will wear your family mark, but shouldn’t I meet your family first?”
“I don’t want you to run from me after you meet them.”
She knelt and kissed him. “Aw, honey. Where would I go?”
The gathered Guardians and Rowen applauded.
Devnin exhaled fire and she turned it into body heat. When they had some privacy, she was going to test the bounds of what the clothing could and couldn’t stand. Whoever Rhoda was, there was some lingerie included in the mix.
Rox leaned back and smiled. “Now, she said something about some toys being included for me. I am sorry Devnin, but I have to know.”
She spent the better part of the afternoon enjoying the armament box. Every experimental weapon came with instructions, and the Guardians wisely stood back when she activated the trident for the first time.
It shot out and was the same seven feet long as the previous one, but it collapsed into a canister one inch wide and five inches long. It came with a harness to attach it to her wristbands, but for the time being, she just stuffed it down her cleavage.
Rowen and Pleska laughed and the men stared in shock. It turned into a game to find out how many small weapons could be inserted in her gown without it being obvious.
Being able to pull out the right weapon on command became the issue. She practiced for an hour before putting on the belt of the small holders for the capsules around her waist.
Surprisingly, they didn’t clash with the rich blue day dress, but when she stood, she swayed again.
Devnin chuckled. “Back to bed with you. You are still exhausted.”
She grumped but agreed on the condition that she could sleep with her belt full of gadgets.
“You will sleep in the nude, but you can have your belt on the rack next to the bed.” He crossed his arms as the others looked on in amusement.
“Fine. Come and tuck me in.” She stomped off and mentally grinned to know that he was indeed coming to tuck her in. She only needed to ask for something and he would try to make it happen.
There were worse things in life than to find a man who made her hot and nothing better than to have him in her bed. She was going to make sure that he helped her earn her nap.
Author’s Note
It has been a hectic few weeks, and I am sure the details would bore you, but here is my Lady, and she has her fire at last.
The next book, Lesser, spins a tale of a woman who has always been in the shadows until the moment she manages to disappear. Disappearing seems so attractive until you begin to lose yourself.
This book began because of the endless winter I have been trapped in and I hope for warmth. I also hope for a muscular guy in tights to sweep me away from all this…but first I would settle for spring.
Thanks for reading,
Viola Grace
http://www.violagrace.com
[email protected]
About the Author
Viola Grace was born in Manitoba, Canada where she still resides today. She really likes it there. She has no pets and can barely keep sea monkeys alive for a reasonable amount of time. Her line of day job tends to be analytical which leaves her mind hopping to weave stories. No co-worker is safe from her character analysis. In keeping with busy hands are happy hands, her hobbies have included cross-stitch, needlepoint, quilting, costuming, cake decorating, baking, cooking, metal work, beading, sculpting, painting, doll making, henna tattoos, chain mail, and a few others that have been forgotten. It is quite often that these hobbies make their way into her tales.
Viola’s fetishes include boots and corsetry, and her greatest weakness is her uncontrollable blush. Her writing actively pursues the Happily Ever After that so rarely occurs in nature. It is an admirable thing and something that we should all strive for. To find one that we truly like, as wel
l as love.