by Elsa Jade
The dowager stalked a quarter way around her, forcing Rayna to twist her head to keep her in sight. “The God of Oaths is my son’s patron, not mine, but I will pledge on his behalf.”
On the god’s behalf, or Raz’s? Rayna wanted to push but she was keenly aware that pawns didn’t have much power except taking one step at a time. “Okay then. Show me this ballgown.”
The army of staffers rushed forward, not with pins and fabric samples but with handheld scanners. They consulted in whispers among themselves and with the dowager before whisking away, leaving Rayna a little bewildered.
The dowager lingered at the door. “We don’t know why Blackworm was lurking around the singularity. But he brought you here for some reason, and we’ll find out what it was.”
Rayna considered the other woman thoughtfully. How much of the dowager’s resolve had Raz inherited along with those blue eyes and black hair? “I don’t really care what the reason was,” she said at last. “I’m done with that.”
She spent that night with Lishelle and Trixie, the three of them in the sitting room with the stasis chambers containing Carmen and Anne.
“This is unacceptably creepy,” Lishelle said, peering at the sleeping women.
Trixie shook her head. “We need to stick together.” Then she grimaced. “Except we’re sending Rayna off on her own.” She blinked hard, her eyes welling. “I’m sorry I panicked, Ray. Maybe—”
“Stop right there, sweetie.” Rayna hugged the younger woman. “We all do what we can, yeah? You keep an eye on Carmen and Anne—”
“Not like they’re going anywhere,” Lishelle muttered.
“—And make sure Lishelle doesn’t get into a fight with Captain Nor or anyone else.” Rayna shot a grin at the other woman, who snorted back. “And we’ll get out of this, get out of here soon enough.”
Trixie nodded against Rayna’s shoulder. “I wish I was as brave as you.” She rolled her head to look at Lishelle. “Or as loud as you.”
Lishelle laughed. “You just gotta speak up, sweetie. Ain’t that hard if you know what you want.”
But as Rayna prepared for bed—they all had their own adjoining bedrooms, although she’d almost suggested clustering in one room for companionship—she wondered if it really was so simple. After all, somehow Lishelle had gotten caught by Blackworm too, and she couldn’t have wanted that. None of them had.
She’d just changed into one of the thick dressing robes that Thorkons considered casual, at-home wear when the control panel for her room beeped softly. Triggering the message, she caught her breath at seeing Raz.
“If you aren’t otherwise occupied, would you kindly meet with me in the parlor?”
She hesitated. Although she’d figured out on the Grandiloquence that these messages were like texts—he wouldn’t see her until she chose to respond—she knew he’d know that she’d at least seen his request. So she couldn’t pretend to be asleep or otherwise occupied.
But what did he have to say to her after ghosting her just because she wouldn’t have sex with him? Especially now that she’d found out he’d be getting married soon!
She needed to tell him about himself, arrogant alien duke that he was.
She slapped the reply. “I’ll be out there in a second.”
In her righteous outrage, she sort of forgot she was in a robe, but it was too late to go back when she marched into the parlor and found him waiting there already. Of course he could get into any room in the estate but he could’ve at least pretended to wait for her to agree to see him.
Why would he wait for a yes, though, when he was a smug nobleman who’d likely always gotten what he wanted?
Good thing it was a thick, long robe that felt somewhat like armor against the memory of the last time she was alone with him.
Also, the formal parlor wasn’t as conducive to thoughtless, passionate kissing under fake stars. One, because there weren’t any fake stars here, and two, because she wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.
Last time, she’d been overwhelmed. Understandably so, she thought. But this time she would make sure to be underwhelmed.
Too bad he was just so, so sexy.
Raz stood with his back to her, his hands clasped at parade rest behind him—just above that muscled butt she’d held onto when they’d sprawled on the bench in the map room. His dark head was tilted as if he was watching the slow wheel of a gorgeous spiral galaxy projected in the corner of the room that served as an ambient heat source, like a fireplace powered by stellar phenomena.
…Oh shit. There were stars in this room too.
Her pulse whirled faster than any galaxy, and she licked her suddenly aching lips. Why was she so attracted to an arrogant alien duke with his elegant commands when she’d spent her whole adult life making sure she needed no one and no one needed her?
Maybe just because he was so much stronger than she was, physically, financially, and everything else, that she didn’t have to worry about him.
She didn’t think she’d made a noise—other than that inadvertent lip-smacking, like he was a tasty pixberry she’d found ready for plucking—but he pivoted slowly to face her.
His pensive gaze traveled from her bare feet, up to the waist tie of her robe that suddenly felt too tight, up higher to settle on her face.
As if the astro-fireplace behind him was suddenly visible through him, his eyes blazed.
But his voice was measured, even cool, when he said, “I hear you are attending the ball as representative of your people.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Not really representing. Just…standing in for them.”
He tilted his head. “Like you were standing in for the Black Hole Brides when you came out of the conservatory forest on the station and lured me close to be stabbed.”
“Kind of like that,” she admitted. “If it’s any consolation, Lishelle would probably be aiming for your mother this time, or maybe Captain Nor.”
Raz grunted, sort of a laugh. “She is a force to be reckoned with.”
“Your mother or Lishelle?”
“Both.” He studied her. “And you too. But I thought you should be prepared for the commotion of the ball. I’ve seen the guest list, and it’s all the galactic dignitaries, local cluster nobles, and Octiron celebrities that can race in before tomorrow night.” He shook his head. “It will be a cosmological madhouse. The Earth envoy will be lucky to find an open dock.” He took a step toward her then stopped abruptly. “I just wanted to tell you not to be frightened. You might be the only Earther there, but…you won’t be alone.”
She frowned in confusion. “Well, you did say the guest list was long.”
He straightened, his hands still behind him. “I mean because I’ll be there.”
Her mouth made a little O of surprise, but she couldn’t push any air out.
When she didn’t answer, he widened his stance. “In the past, you’ve told me how you sometimes felt alone, facing troubles with no one at your side. I just wanted you to know this will not be one of those times.”
The way he held himself so stiffly, his jaw tight, it seemed as if he didn’t even want to say the words. So why did he bother? Old resentments—and okay, she admitted, more than a touch of anxiety—made her want to stomp away. She didn’t need anyone’s help, not even his. If he wanted to walk away from her, fine. She’d just…
Oh waaaaaait. Maybe this was why he was uneasy about holding his hand out. Because she might bite it off.
Tentatively, she slid one foot toward him, her lips curled inward to hold back her instinctive snap. She’d had to be the strong one for so long, for her dad and sister, after Mom left, but in some ways, that had given her a reason to hold herself together. Then Dad had passed and Vaughn had moved on with her life, and it seemed like they were leaving her too—not that she blamed either of them. Instead, she’d told herself she could finally relax. But she’d always stayed on the defensive, waiting for the next time she’d find herself alone. She’d been
basically hiding in Sunset Falls, as if in a small enough, backward enough town, working at a dead-end job, telling herself that even casual hookups were too much heartache, she could finally protect herself from being left behind. Because there was nowhere else to go, no one else to walk away.
And then Blackworm had abducted her and now she was facing a whole universe.
With another faltering footstep, she glanced up at Raz. He looked as wary as she felt inside. No wonder she’d felt such a connection to him, even if he was an alien duke and she was just herself.
Holding her breath, she settled her hand on his chest. He wasn’t wearing that militaristic uniform or the tight workout shirt that had distracted her so much the last time they were alone together. This pale gray tunic was looser and softer, the neckline an open, sloping V, and the pants were equally unstructured, as if maybe he’d been getting ready for bed too when he decided he needed to talk to her, to reassure her.
Her throat tightened a little, and her voice was husky when she said, “Last time we kissed…”
He raised his head, like a wary beast, and she felt his heartbeat thud under her palm. “I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he broke in. “Not because alien dukes don’t kiss, but because you’d just woken up from a terrible nightmare and were too vulnerable. I should’ve been protecting you, not taking advantage.”
She narrowed one eye thoughtfully. How did she feel about him thinking she was too vulnerable, in need of his protection? It was…sweet, she decided. If misguided.
“I’ve never asked for anyone’s protection,” she said. “And yet since I busted out of that glass coffin, I’ve needed it more than once.” She let out a sigh, staring fiercely at the center of his chest where the neckline of the tunic exposed a V of his lightly tanned skin just above her flattened fingertips. “I can’t begin to tell you how much that bothers me.”
At his huff of a laugh, she peeked up at him.
With his thumb, he levered her face up. “You did tell me, pretty clearly, when you rejected me.”
“I didn’t…” she sputtered.
He tipped his thumb higher, over her lips. “And fair enough,” he continued. “It wasn’t the time or place for seduction.”
Had that been what it was? A seduction? She gazed up at him, keenly aware of the soft weight of his touch on her mouth. “Is this the time and place?”
“No.” He dropped his hand.
She blinked. “Oh. I thought…” A hot flush of embarrassment—and lingering arousal; she didn’t kid herself—blazed up her cheeks.
“But I have a proposal for you.”
“An indecent one?” she muttered.
He tilted his head, obviously not getting the reference. She’d have to introduce him to the joys of questionable cinema and over-buttered popcorn. Except both those things were very far away, and she wouldn’t be here long enough for that.
“Not indecent,” he said slowly. “Merely inappropriate.”
“That doesn’t seem right for a dignified duke,” she said with an attempt at a smile.
He didn’t smile back. “I think we can help each other.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You’ve already helped me, but I don’t see how I’m of any use to you.”
“I’ve not been entirely forthcoming with you,” he said.
“You mean like you’re supposed to be getting married?” She lifted one eyebrow.
He scowled. “My mother’s been at you, hasn’t she?”
Rayna shrugged. “I suppose most mothers want their children happily married and settled down.”
“The settlements came with my inheritance,” he said grimly. “Just not as much as the duchy needs. As for happily…” He took a prowling step away from her, then pivoted on his heel, his hands once again behind him in that stiff, pensive stance. “I’m proposing to you.”
“You said that already. Proposing what?”
His brow burrowed. “A proposal,” he said insistently, accenting the words.
“Yeah, I got that part. Proposing what?”
He pressed one hand to the side of his head as if jostling the universal translator she knew was in there. “I’m doing this wrong,” he muttered. “A pirate would just take her.”
She frowned in confusion. “Take me where? Raz, you’re starting to freak me out.”
He took a short, sharp step toward her, then seemed to stumble. She’d never seen him so graceless, and she reached out to catch him before he fell. But he went to one knee in front of her and held up a small box. She stared at it uncertainly, her heartbeat skittering. She angled her askance gaze to his royal blue eyes. “Raz…”
“I’m proposing to you,” he said again, sliding back the intricately carved lid.
It was a ring.
“That kind of proposing?” she squeaked.
Shifting his weight restlessly on his knee, he scowled. “According to Earther tradition, you should shriek yes, yes, yes and snatch the ring from the box.”
She choked on a frantic, little laugh. “That’s for people who are getting married.”
“Actually, it’s for an engagement,” he corrected. “Rayna Quaye,” he said solemnly. “Will you engage me?”
Her giggle this time was even more panicked. “Are you that desperate to get your mother off your back?”
“Yes. Just as you were determined to get away from Blackworm and go home.” He looked up at her. “Rayna, you inspire me to climb out of my trap.”
She inspired him? “This is all very odd,” she murmured.
His lips quirked. “More odd than discovering that aliens exist?”
“Yes! Because now one is proposing to me!”
He slipped the ring from the box and held it up to the light of the astro-fire. The savage sparkles made her breath catch. Whatever the stone was, it was brighter than any diamond she’d ever seen.
“Just for the ball,” he said.
That brought her up short when she caught herself leaning toward the ring. “What?”
“Take the ring,” he urged. “Just for the ball. My mother won’t throw marriageable worthies at me, and you’ll be safe from unscrupulous unworthies thinking they might capitalize on the unworldsliness of an abducted closed-world innocent.”
She wrinkled her nose. Was that how he saw her? Unworldsly? And she’d always considered herself the tough, practical, “What do I have that anyone could possibly want?”
His clear blue eyes were half-lidded but caught the sparks from the ring. “You have you.”
That made even less sense than an alien duke proposing to her.
“You’ve already discovered there are those in this universe that would use you against your will.” His mouth turned down. “You’ll find more of them at the ball, no doubt. With this ring, you—and by extension, the other Earthers—will have all the noble protection of the Duchy of Azthronos, with its dreadnaughts, its blood champions and avatars, not to mention its eleven billion brave, wonderful citizens.” He took her left hand in his. “And its duke.”
She looked down at their joined hands, hers shaking, his with the glittering gem poised at her ring finger. “Raz…”
His grip tightened on her. “I will be here for you even if you say no again.” He leaned forward to press a soft kiss against her knuckle where the ring would rest. “But I wanted you to have something real, something to believe in and hold onto, so you’d know you weren’t alone out there.”
The breath caught in her throat so hard it was almost a sob. How could he understand, after so little time together, what she needed when she herself wouldn’t acknowledge that weakness?
She’d done everything she could to hide her fear from Lishelle and Trixie, and they’d let her stand in for them at the ball, probably thinking she had her shit together. But she hadn’t, not when Mom left, not when Daddy’s CO patted her head, not when Vaughn had announced she’d enlisted and was shipping out the next week, leaving Rayna behind. And definitely not now.
Raz saw her w
eakness. Saw it but didn’t try to tell her everything would be fine. And he still respected her. He even said she inspired him. Now he was offering her this ring.
“Just for the ball,” she whispered, her voice pitched half toward a question, half consent.
He tilted the ring again, sending shards of light spiking across the room. “Probably it didn’t need to be so grand and gaudy just for one ball,” he mused. “It’s overkill, isn’t it? Everyone will think I’m desperate to win your affections and that you’re a shameless hussy, taking advantage of a clearly captivated duke—”
She laughed, her emotions veering wildly. “Yes.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “Yes, you are a shameless hussy, or—”
“No!” Except maybe she was lying about that… “I meant yes to your proposal.” Her voice quavered. “Yes to you. At least for the ball.”
She held her breath as he slid the ring onto her finger. It was heavier than it looked, and it looked plenty heavy. Her hand sagged.
He gently turned her wrist—even the underside of the ring band glowed with light—and kissed the center of her palm before folding her fingers tight and rotating the ring upward again. “I’m honored that you believe in me. At least for the ball.”
The wry note in his voice seemed to require response, but the fire in the gem had mesmerized her. “Anyway, if I need to defend myself, this rock could put out someone’s eye.”
With a laugh, he rose smoothly to his feet, towering over her. “It’s called the Eye of Zalar, the blood champion who led our system in the Thorkonos Wars.”
“He had very big eyes,” Rayna murmured as she tilted the ring to the light.
“She had very deep pocketbooks after the wars and a galactic accountant lover who indulged her affection for all things sparkly and wisely steered a portion of her riches to mineral rights.”
Despite her own sudden interest in sparkly things, Rayna lifted her gaze to Raz. He was watching her with the same indulgence she imagined that long-ago lover had bestowed upon his lady, underlaid with something deeper and hungrier.
“So,” she drawled. “In your review of Earther engagement traditions, did you read about the kiss?”