Page 104 of Warrior's Captive
They made their way to one of the lifts and emerged onto the eighth floor. This level boasted deep, booming drums and a masculine voice rasping to a fast beat.
Shira whooped and threw herself onto the floor, Vivian following more sedately.
Months of training now made her confident in her coordination, and she knew she looked good in the short, sleeveless sheath dress she wore. Electric blue with strategically sheer panels, it was deceptively simple and covertly sexy.
They attraced a few glances, some longer than others, and speculative. Beysikai province was one of the more diverse, with a robust interstellar immigration program, but single human women were still uncommon.
“This is great,” Shira shouted over the music, her arms above her head as she swiveled her hips. Her golden-brown hair shone in wild waves against her deep pink halter top. “Girl, come on. Put some life into it.”
“Why not for once,” Vivian muttered, drawn into the music despite herself.
And after several moments found shelovedit.
She threw back her head to watch the dancers above, grateful for the clever lighting which offered ladies in dresses some modesty, and lost herself in the rhythm of the dance until there was a slight transition in the music.
Vivian noticed movement out of the corner of her eyes and stiffened involuntarily, turning her head as a man detached himself from the crowd and glided over. He gave Vivian a brief glance, enough for her to register violet tinged eyes and a braid of silvery blue hair down his back. He wore gray; trousers, fitted t-shirt and a jacket, his skin a pale blue as if he didn’t often see the light of day.
“Are you here alone?” he asked Shira, voice deep and smooth.
Vivian frowned, then realized the reason he sounded odd to her was because he spoke with a flawless Standard accent.
Shira scowled up at him. “I’m with my girlfriend; get lost.”
He glanced at Vivian, eyebrow rising. His gaze flickered down to her arms. “The one with bonding marks?”
Shira rolled her eyes. “Not that kind of girlfriend.” But she paused, eyeing him up and down, as if having second thoughts.
Vivian stifled her cough; hewashot. Shira would come to her senses soon.
“You can dance with me,” Shira declared, “but watch the hands or I’ll cut them off.”
“Sure, sweetheart. I’ll wait till you ask.”
“Don’t be an ass. Come on.”
Shira glanced at Vivian, quirking her eyebrow, and Vivian shrugged. She was expecting company soon, anyway. He’d find her, she was certain of it.
Several minutes later, her faith was rewarded as strong arms slipped around her waist from behind.
For once the intense, edged mood he carried with him after work matched the atmosphere. Vivian turned in her mate’s arms, enjoying the look of him, mussed dark hair and brilliant eyes. A slight, somber smile as he stared down at her.
“I like the dress,” he said. “Is there any more of it?”
Vivian laughed. “Now, that wouldn’t be any fun.”
His gaze flickered as a dancer came a little too close. His head snapped around, and the man drifted away.
“It’s a club, Tai’ri. People are going to get close.”
He drew her even tighter into his hold as the beat of the music increased. Soon he was moving his hips, displaying an effortless command of rhythm she hadn’t realized he possessed.
Her eyes widened. “You’ve been holding out on me! You can dance.”
“We just haven’t gone to a club like this before.” Tai’ri lowered his head, his lips brushing her earlobe. “Wanted to keep you to myself as long as you would let me.”
Which explained his odd scowl, but silent acceptance, when she’d told him she and Shira were going to a club for the first time. They’d been out, of course, but usually quieter places closer to home in case the toddlers got restless with their caregivers.
“I’ve got bonding marks,” she said. “No one is going to flirt with me.”
