She swallowed hard. The shape of the dress and even her own body felt unfamiliar and far too daring. Maybe she should just go change into something else.
“Are you a visitor?’
She turned at Renall’s voice. His eyes went wide, and then up and down her body. A jolt shot through her. He looked away quickly. He said, “I am so sorry. I did not recognize you at first.”
“Dana made it for me. From the scraps. They would have been thrown away otherwise, and she felt that would be wasteful.”
The words tumbled out of her lips so fast she was not even sure that they had made any sense at all.
Renall looked up again. His eyes were veiled and his expression impassive. “Orbitary committee members will be pleased she was so thoughtful with resources.”
“I suppose.” Her bare shoulder lifted a bit as a trickle of air from a vent blew across it. She had never felt so naked before, not even when she had been naked. Her eyes dropped. She said, “I have to get to the tables.”
“Yes, of course.”
She reached for the door and went inside. Renall entered after her. She felt the heat radiating off his body, pushing against her back and her breath sucked in. Her lower body trembled. That damn desire she felt for him, why was it so strong? So unavoidable?
Renall quickly stepped to one side. He strode away from her, heading for the offices he kept above the gaming and dance floors. Clara moved toward her table, suddenly conscious of the way that her body moved and the gazes of so many male creatures. And a few female ones, too, she noticed with a little grin.
She took her table. The chairs filled fast. The cards shuffled in her hands. A sense of power hit, and it was heady. What was more, she realized something else too.
Renall had hurried away from her because he wanted her.
The cards spread out in a fan, made a bridge, and then a semi-circle. Someone decided that game, and she dealt, but her eyes weren’t on the table. They were pointed up toward the office where she knew Renall stood watching her.
Renall blew out an audible breath. He’d been so turned on three seconds before, he’d been sure he was showing the entire gaming hall his desire. It had taken a lot of will to rein it in, and he had done that, but even now it was there, lurking just below the surface.
Or on the surface, he thought wryly as he looked down at his crotch. Tension settled in as his erection finally wilted away. His feet took him to the windows, and he looked down at the floor. His eyes went to Clara.
His lustful thoughts rose up again, but they were tempered with other thoughts now. The human had courage like he had never seen. Not just in the face of danger either. The way she played at the tables was as equally fearless. She faced down the other players with the same steely determination she had faced him and the crew down the day they had stripped the ship.
Restless now, he made for the door but his interface buzzed, and he paused as he saw with some chagrin that the incoming telecall was routed from his future bride.
Renall forced a pleasant smile and answered. Laria’s face swam into focus. Her species, like his, was human-like in appearance, with a few notable exceptions. Laria’s head was a long smooth expanse, and her skin a pearly and sheer thing. Her eyes were wide and too large for the delicate bones of her face. Her cheekbones high. She was nice to look at, and he had always been pleased with her appearance, but now he found himself comparing her features to Clara’s, and that bothered him a great deal as Laria greeted him and he greeted her in return.
Laria asked, “When do you return here for your next visit?”
“In a week.” His thoughts drifted back to the floor. “How are things?”
“Fine. Thanks.” Laria paused and then added, “The temple is coming along nicely, and my father asked me to extend to you his gratitude for the donation that made building it possible.”
Donation, hell. He was funneling a lot of credits into Laria’s planet. While her planet was big on purity, they were also big on skilled warfare, and they turned out some of the finest fighters in the galaxy. They would be necessary to him when he gained his planet. “That’s good to hear, and he is most welcome.”
Laria said, “In fact, that is why I am calling you. It seems the credits have run out and there is still work to do.”
Dammit. Every ‘donation’ set him back. Every setback meant he had more work to do to gain his own coffers. That was the price of peace, and he well knew it, but at that moment, it grated on his nerves. He kept his voice bland. “Oh?”
Laria nodded. Her lambent eyes glistened slightly as she leaned closer to the screen. “Father will be calling this evening, promptly at nine your time, to discuss future plans for the temple.”
In other words, to give him a bill and a demand. Renall’s body wanted to tense up, but he didn’t allow it to. Laria’s people were not psychic, but they were good at reading situations, and he knew any tension that he revealed now would be taken as a sign of unwillingness to donate any more credits to the temple. The temple that was part and parcel of the deal he had brokered with her father, who had grossly underestimated—and probably deliberately—the cost of the damned temple. “I will be awaiting his call.”
Laria leaned back. She seemed satisfied with that answer. Renall tried to think of a single thing to say to her beyond that and found he had nothing. He knew very little about her life. Laria was a priestess at a small temple and would remain in that position until they wed. She seemed to have no conversation beyond what happened within the temple walls, and much of what happened within those walls was kept very secret, so their discussions around those things was also limited.
His heart sank. How was he supposed to have a life with her?
Laria spoke again. “I have duties to attend to, so I fear I must go. I look forward to your visit.”
“As do I.” He clicked the interface off. His legs carried him to the door and then out onto the floor. The day had just begun, but the hall was in full swing. Several ships had arrived, disgorging everything from space cowboys to troop members from various cargo ships. Galley ship crew stood about, gawking at the Gurley’s and the tables. The ones who had never been out of their own systems before and who had clearly never seen anything like what they were seeing now stuck out like sore thumbs.
