by Candace Sams
“Fisk will know. So will most of his cronies in Allied High Command. What they do with the information is up to them. It’ll be Fisk’s job to convince all the other embassy commanders that this scheme will work. If they’re not in agreement, nothing I ever said or did will have made any difference. Thinking up the ideas is just a very small portion of what has to happen before long-range tactics get implemented. Furthermore, I was told by General Fisk that there are brand new cadets out of Earth Force Academy who actually want to go to that horrid place. Just to make a name for themselves. That knowledge releases me from bouts of conscience over letting them. I was only telling you about Taurean Seven to explain why I changed my appearance.”
He gazed down at her for a long moment before speaking. Then his tone softened. “You really are something else. I…I’ve never in my life met anyone like you.”
“I’m just me. I’m trying to do the best I can.”
“I’ll say you’ve done far more than your best, Keira. I only wish your godfather could see what the next months will bring. Something tells me that news of your achievements will make him proud.”
“I hope so. I’m just happy he’ll be back on Earth with friends. Especially since doctors indicate his latest tests have arrested his disease. In fact, if he stays stable, he’ll be able to travel on his own and come back to visit me for Christmas. Of course, I’m not happy he’s leaving so quickly but it’s what he wants. And I’ll support his decision.”
“I’m happy to hear the treatments are working.”
“Thank you. He and I have said our goodbyes. His last orders were for no escort. I’m to remain at the ball and not accompany him to the airfield. The idea is to minimize the shock of his sudden retirement. So, all in all, things are not so dire for either him or me. Whatever happens, I mean to do my duty to the best of my ability. And without hiding behind any disguises. I’m tired of it!”
“Let any man harass you and I’ll be the first to—”
“I’ll take care of myself, Sir Dillon. You just dance with me,” she merrily said as she put both hands on his chest. “I don’t think there are any rules prohibiting us from…fraternizing…though I’m quite sure we’re being watched and gossiped about at this very moment. Care to take on the Mythrealian version of paparazzi? It could get brutal.”
He laughed loudly. “Let the damned fools talk! My Earth-born grandmother fraternized with a Mythrealian prince and eventually bore him five sons. One of them eventually became our king. No one said a damned thing about it then and won’t now. They wouldn’t dare. But uh…what is the nature of this fraternization, Keira. Are we talking a professional, public lunch now and then or…something more?”
She simply lifted her brows and remained silent. When he smiled down at her with his heart in his eyes, melting into the floor seemed a very real possibility.
Whether coincidence or Fate’s design, the orchestra leader led his musicians into a fanfare signaling the first dance of the evening—The Sleeping Beauty Waltz by Tchaikovsky.
Dillon automatically slid his right hand to the small of her back.
She put her left palm on his shoulder and placed her right one in his free hand—a classic waltz position. Though he was a good fifteen inches taller, he held her in his arms like a man used to gracefully maneuvering a woman around any floor.
As the only royal presence on the ballroom floor, protocol dictated the matter. Dillon was to be seen leading the first dance with whomever he chose. That this particular ball was an Earth function and an Earth holiday made no difference. The highest ranking member of royalty—or enforcers of the uppermost rank if no royalty was present—always led the first dance and had for centuries.
For the first time in a very long while, Keira didn’t care about the mindless blathering that might arise. She didn’t care about any emerging snark that may well accompany her new appearance. Tired of certain petty aspects of enforcer life, she was done with gossips. For tonight and from now on, all things were new. Mythreal held possibilities she’d never considered. One of those was a night in the arms of one of this garden world’s most eligible bachelors—a man willing to give up his beloved career and face imprisonment and even death, just to do what he believed was right.
There was magic in the night and she meant to enjoy it.
****
Dillon danced her around the ballroom knowing they were now the center of attention. In her lovely, flowing gown the waltz and her grace in performing it perfectly captured his attention to the exclusion of all else.
The woman in his arms was mesmerizing. She was smart and would someday make her own mark in Mythreal’s history. Instinct made him believe it. One didn’t shine the way she did tonight and not transition that dazzling presence into other endeavors.
As they moved, he recalled having turned down ballroom events in the past, pursued as he was by any woman desiring a title. Every bone in his body affirmed Keira Foley wouldn’t have cared if he was a shop keeper or a janitor. She could be with any man she chose, and she’d chosen him.
The waltz finally ended, they finished their part of it with a flourishing turn. The crowd applauded loudly for several minutes, even as he led her from the floor to his grandmother’s table.
The orchestra stuck up a much more modern tune. The evening’s entertainment was fully commencing.
They reached his grandmother’s table, graciously accepting congratulations on their waltzing prowess. Keira’s response in that respect was important. Nonchalance and kindness on her part led him to believe she hadn’t cared that he’d more or less commandeered her for the dance. After all, he’d had to do it with someone. What she didn’t know was that he’d planned for that first dance with her alone.
“May we be seated?” he formally asked, as he stood waiting for Grandmother’s permission to join her. In all things, his beloved Immy was to be respected—protocol always observed.
“Of course you may both sit. And bravo! Well done,” his grandmother complimented yet again. Then she gracefully lifted one hand to indicate Keira should take the seat to her right.
As custom dictated, Dillon took the seat to Immy’s immediate left, nearest her heart.
“Keira…isn’t it? May I call you by your first name?” Immy asked.
Keira bowed her head in approval.
“Keira, I insist you must call me Immy. The real version of my name is so very pretentious. Besides, the abbreviation reminds me of such good times long ago. It’s a moniker originating with this huge grandson of mine,” she explained as she briefly lifted one hand and put it against Dillon’s cheek. “As well as having the most adorable lisp when he first began to speak, he was totally incapable of rendering even a remote version of Immeldeline. Can you imagine what a mouthful it was for a little child?”
“He had a lisp?” Keira queried as she suppressed a grin.
“Oh my dear, you should have heard him. He was utterly charming in every way. From the day he was born I simply adored him. Of course, I love all my grandchildren but this one was as cute as a bug’s ear! Why, as a toddler, he ran around the estate removing every stitch of clothing, only tolerating the presence of a small helmet his father gave him. Everyone loved him and they still do.”
Dillon plastered on a pretend frown. “Immy…how am I to impress a woman while you reveal my darkest secrets?”
“So…it’s as I suspected. You are trying to impress her.” Immy stretched out one be-ringed hand and placed it over one of his. “Good for you.”
Dillon cast a long, pointed gaze in Keira’s direction but said nothing else. To her credit, Keira didn’t look away. She stared back and something deep in her bright blue eyes made every bit of gossip they’d go through worth any indiscretion. For some strange reason, he suddenly imagined his own children running through the garden, shouting and playing as he had. And one of those offspring his brain conjured was a little girl with bright blue eyes and long, reddish-brown curls. She’d be a little scrapper and ha
ve no trouble confronting her bigger siblings with great majesty and pomp.
Immy turned her attention on Keira. “My lovely girl, win him if you can. There’s no one I’d rather see him make a life with than an Earth woman. But whatever else you may do, assert your independence now. I did with his grandfather. It made all the difference in the world. Mythrealian males revere free-thinking women.”
Dillon held his tongue. Whatever teasing Grandmother engaged, Keira’s absolute tolerance of it, and the gentle, unflustered smile she displayed, was worth any embarrassment. Everyone who’d ever heard of Immeldeline Greenleaf knew her to be outspoken. But then so was his dance partner. Keira Foley would never take crap off anybody. Especially now that the only person she’d loved within Earth Force would no longer be there to suffer for her particular brand of defense.
Immy laughed as she glanced between him and Keira. “The way you two are staring at each other, I can see remarks meant to provoke deep conversation will get me nowhere. There’ll be no teasing either of you. That being the case, I think I’ll forgo the banquet portion of tonight’s entertainment and head home.”
“We’ve only just arrived,” Dillon blurted.
“Darling, while you danced and had everyone’s tongues wagging, I took a moment to invite simply scores of Earth Embassy staffers and dignitaries to my cottage this weekend,” she declared as she nodded at the others in her entourage.
The men and women surrounding them hadn’t heard a word of their conversation. Most were indulging in deep, joyful discussions of their own while drinking copious amounts of champagne.
Dillon shook his head. When allowed to do so without being perceived by the Mythrealian population as taking sides, Immy loved to party with her native Earthers. Valentine’s Day and the weekend celebrations to follow were an excuse to remember old times with those who had much in common.
“Since they and their luggage will take up space in the royal shuttle,” Immy continued, “I’ll have your valet send your private hovercraft back here. You and this charming, exuberant Earth girl can have the night to yourselves. Before I take my leave, however, I claim a dance…as is my due.”
Dillon wasn’t fooled. Immy wanted him and Keira to be alone. Keara knew it too. The way she smiled and slyly winked at him destroyed all doubt.
“Keira, if you’ll excuse me? Immy’s wish is my command,” he said as he rose to help Immy to the dance floor.
When Keira took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and lifted it in a toast to him and his grandmother, Dillon nodded in return and gently offered his arm to his grandmother.
Everyone near them turned their attention to the royal couple strolling toward the dance floor—a smattering of acknowledging applause turned into a full-blown ovation. This time, the recognition was for Immeldeline Greenleaf. But once the Queen Mother left the building—there being no other royal personages present but him—royal protocol for the night would be considered complete. He and Keira wouldn’t be put on display for any other waltzes or anything else.
A modern dance ended just as he and Immy made their way to the edge of the white, marble floor. Everyone backed to the edge of it when they saw who approached.
Dillon saw the orchestra leader nod toward him in acknowledgement, presumably taking Immy’s age into account. Another waltz began, but the beat was slower. With great love and pride, he danced with his grandmother. This time, the tune was The Emperor Waltz by Strauss.
****
Just as anxious to see the event as everyone else, Keira left her seat and quickly made her way to the edge of the ballroom floor. But only after she was sure Dillon wouldn’t catch her gawking like the rest of the audience. She didn’t want him thinking she was glued to his every move, or even remotely impressed by his position. Respect was one thing. Adding herself to the list of his much gossiped-about female fan base was something altogether different.
What he might have thought of her ogling soon made no difference. Not when she saw the way the huge, aqua blue elf-of-a-man led his tiny, but regally lovely grandmother around the floor. At that moment, something deep in her heart melted. There was no denying the poignant, gentle moment as grandson gazed down at his grandmother. Even as far away as she stood, there was no mistaking the pure, unadulterated love in those glowing green eyes. The colossus everyone knew as a professional, stern taskmaster never missed a beat—his grandmother clearly had him wrapped around her little finger. More importantly, the man didn’t give a flying rat’s butt if anyone saw the raw emotion on his face. As he moved, he took great care with the elderly woman in his embrace.
People around her muttered how sweet the scene was, how gallant Security Chief Greenleaf behaved toward his beloved grandmother.
She saw more. She saw a man bearing deep passions and staunch loyalty to someone he cared for—a man with an honorable reputation but who came by it through deeds. What she witnessed undid her best efforts to appear blasé.
Remarks made by women nearby revealed the gossipers as the sort who’d do anything to have him for a night. She heard them twittering over his massive chest, muscular body or his godlike face. Yet she was with him. And while she wanted to be right where she was, she hadn’t meant to be so emotionally caught up in the moment or the romance of the night.
No other man had made such an impact in such a short time and for such good reason. She had her job, he had his. There might come a time when High Council action, taken either by his side or hers, could put them at odds even if fraternizing was currently allowed. There might still be limits to just how deep this could go. Celebrating for an evening was one thing, getting as involved as she felt she was, was something else. Still, she couldn’t help herself. She wanted him.
As the dance ended and applause erupted, she quickly moved back to her seat and clasped her hands together. She didn’t want Dillon or his keenly astute grandmother to see how hard they were shaking.
As she watched them approach the table to take their respective seats once more, her mouth grew dry, and her heart beat harder.
What’s happening to me? Yeah…he’s handsome as the day is long but he’s not for me. I have a career. I fought hard to get where I am, even to the point of disguising myself so men on the job would leave me alone. Now, all of a sudden, I want him to notice me. Am I a fighter or a sixteen-year-old with a crush?
She shook her head, briefly closed her eyes, and reached for her champagne glass. As Immy sat once more with the help of her warrior-like grandson, Keira muttered a few compliments about the dance. She tried to appear unmoved. But as his gaze turn toward her, his eyes actually began to glow like embers. Their gleam reminded her of sacred urns lit deep within Mythreal forests to show hikers the way at night. She knew a Mythrealian male’s eyes didn’t do such a thing unless there was deep emotion stirring within their soul. She’d seen the light for his beloved grandmother. That was to be expected. But why her? Why now?
What happened the rest of the night was up to her. She could stop what she knew was coming but did she have the courage? Did she even want to?
Dillon leaned forward and whispered something in his grandmother’s ear.
Immy turned to her, smiled slowly and spoke. Though parts of her next words were meant for her grandson, the lady’s gaze never wavered. They held an intense expression for Keira alone. “I’ll leave you two now. Dillon dear, help me escort my guests to the transport, will you? Then I want you both to have the most wonderful evening. Don’t end it soon. After all, life is so very short. Take what you want from the night. Never look back. Never regret bold choices. Never let it be said you grew old regretting anything.”
With that mysterious remark having been made, Dillon slowly stood again.
Even as he gathered his grandmother’s entourage, Keira understood she was to wait right where she was. Dillon would return. Once he did, something significant was going to happen. His grandmother’s words heralded the moment. Instinct made her believe she was the one to suggest th
e next move.
She vaguely recalled saying goodbye to Immy, wishing her a goodnight and passing on equally kind wishes to others in the older woman’s company.
Soon she was at the table by herself, while Dillon played escort. Whether anyone noticed or stared, she no longer cared. Thoughts of what might come next slammed around in her head. All she had to do was throw the man a bone—some sign he couldn’t misconstrue.
Things had changed so suddenly. The gentle flirtation of the evening was over. Something more profound had evolved. The relationship had gone beyond friendship and camaraderie. She wasn’t sure she was ready for more. At the same time, she craved it.
“What a crazy feeling,” she whispered as she slowly shook her head. “It’s like I’m in some kind of dream. Any move I make could be right or wrong.”
For the next few minutes, she simply sat and stared at the red roses in the center of the table. Dance music played loudly but the tunes drifted away. Everything around her took on a surreal quality.
And then Dillon returned.
This time he sat next to her, leaned very close, and poured them each a fresh glass of champagne.
“D-did your grandmother and her friends get off okay?”
“They did. And now…the rest of the night is ours.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he responded as he handed her a glass.
She grinned, suddenly emboldened by his absorption in her. “May I make a suggestion?”
He slowly nodded.
“First, let’s have a toast,” she said as she clinked her glass against his.
“And to what are we toasting?”
“To Valentine’s Day. And whatever it brings.”
“I’ll drink to that!”
She drank her beverage when he did, but never tasted a thing.