Elves

Rina stood staring at the door, assessing her feelings. Lucas was on the other side of that door, she could feel it, but did she want to sing? No, I don't. The thought fortified her and she lifted her hand to knock, but the door swung open before her hand descended. Lucas stood there, a glamour shimmering around him very similar to the one he had been using when she had seen him outside the shop--a buffed up beach boy with tanned skin and bulging muscles. In reality, he was tall and lean with shimmering pale skin. He wore a pair of low-slung jeans and no shirt, revealing a delicious amount of hairless skin and two enticing brown nipples. His long white hair was braided down his back, leaving his pointed ears to stand out considerably.

An unbidden memory of nipping and licking those lovely points popped into her mind. She quickly tamped down on the titillating memory and moved her gaze to his mouth. His lips showed the slightest hint of uplifting at the corners, a major show of emotion for any elf. The annoyance of that thought gave her the strength to look into his eyes, big mistake. She almost lost herself in the swirling brown pools. Thankfully Rive chose then to gently kick her foot. Rina moved her gaze down to his slightly pointed chin, much safer.

"I'm here. Are you going to make me stand in the hall or what?" Rina was proud of her strong confidant voice in spite of her whirring emotions. She could feel them trying to assimilate, but they kept getting scrambled, blocked both by Acquanetta's persuasion and her own determination.

"Of course, won't you come in?" Lucas stepped back so all three could enter his room, "I had hoped to speak with you in private."

"Right, like that was going to happen," Rive said as she passed into the room.

"I don't keep things from my mersisters," Rina said. Then just because it felt good to point out, she added, "My mersisters care only about what makes me happy, and who. So I don't need to keep secrets."

"Really, so I guess that means Brook knows you are here and approves?"

Rina bristled at the comment and she saw his blank face change slightly with satisfaction. "I'm here, what did you need to say to me that was so important it couldn't be relayed through one of my mersisters?" Rina watched his face carefully, searching for the slightest change in his expression to indicate his thoughts and feelings. Nothing. His was a frustrating race and time had changed nothing. How was she supposed to enjoy showing him she didn't love him anymore if he didn't express his misery over the fact, or at least surprise?

Lucas had dropped his glamour once the door was shut, no use hiding in here. So now there was nothing to get in the way of her appreciative, hungry perusal of his body. Damn, I have to keep my thoughts straight. But it was harder than she thought it would be. She wasn't feeling love for him, but still felt attracted to him. She just hoped she didn't have easy lay written across her expressive face. If the situation weren't so complicated, she would be dragging him to that bed right now, tearing his clothes off with her teeth and licking every inch of his delicious body.

Rina bit her lip to keep the groan of desire from escaping. She could do nothing for the wetness she felt between her thighs. Lucas's eyes widened and she knew he was smelling her arousal. Damn his immortal senses. One thing she could count on, she hoped, was he had always been a gentleman. He would never embarrass her by bringing up her obvious desire for him.

Sheila gasped and spun to face four very short men. They wore identical elf costumes, all with a sprig of mistletoe pinned to their collars but, for the most part, the similarities ended there. Two of them were handsome, at least in the face, with coarse dark hair and knowing dark eyes, and she wondered if they were brothers. The other two, however, were average-looking and as different as night and day. The thin one had dull white-blond hair and green mischievous eyes. The other was stockier and of ethnic descent, African-American perhaps, with dark brown skin and a clean-shaven head. Dark penetrating eyes highlighted a face that some might think more beautiful than masculine. None of the four were over four feet tall, their heads at eye-level with her bosom. That meant, of course, that all of them stood, silly grins plastered on their faces, staring at her boobage. Yet how could she blame them when her boobs were practically spilling out of her costume?

An eerie idea tickled her memory. Wasn't the kitchen empty when she'd come in? "Oops, sorry. I didn't realize anyone was in here."

One of the men with dark hair shook his head, his attention locked and unmoving on her. "I don't believe I've ever seen anyone as lovely as you." He stepped closer and, although he wasn't tall, his demeanor commanded authority and, strangely, gave the impression of a larger man. "Please tell me your name or my heart will break."

Sheila giggled at his old-fashioned way of speaking and regretted it when his smile dropped, his face a mask of shame and hurt. "Oh, no. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make fun of you." She regained her composure and started over. "Don't mind the stupid giggle. I do that when I'm not sure how to respond to compliments. My name's Sheila Simmons."

"Sheila."

Okay, she had to admit all of them murmuring her name was a bit strange. Yet, at the same time, somehow appealing. Very appealing.

"Well, from the lack of shouts and glass breaking, I think the fight is over. It was nice hiding in the kitchen with you, but I'd better get back out there." She'd taken a couple of steps when the blond one spoke.

"Sheila, please don't go." He hurried to her side, but didn't touch her. "My name is Billy. And this is Jeremiah, Joseph and Blue."

"Good to meet you, boys." She wanted to leave, but something about the way Blue looked at her made her hesitate. What did he want? What did they all want? "Are you friends of Tyla?"

"Oh, yes. We're friends with everyone. You might say we know lots and lots and lots of people. Mostly good people, but we like the bad ones, too. Do you like being bad, Sheila?" Blue's black eyes captivated her, drawing her in, holding her with him.

Wait. What did he say? Did he just come onto her? Sheila didn't know whether to laugh or run. "I guess. Sometimes. When I'm among friends. I mean, don't we all do bad things at one time or another?"

"We're your friends, Sheila," said Billy, his boyish grin showing off his dimples.

Jeremiah nudged Billy out of the way. "As usual, my friend is acting silly. But I can't blame him, you could make any man act silly, dazzling him with your beauty."

Sheila blushed, gave him a quick smile and headed for the door. "Uh, thank you. But I'll leave you to, uh, whatever it was you were doing and get back to the party before Tyla thinks I've gone home." Right now going home sounded like a terrific idea. Still, she did enjoy a good party, providing the fighting was over. The four men, however, didn't take her not-so-subtle hint and followed her into the living room.

"Looks like Mistress Santa brought her four horny elves with her."

The partiers close to Terry once again focused their attention on her. Why couldn't she enjoy the party like everyone else? She hadn't planned on being the center of attention, no matter how outrageous her costume was. Nonetheless, she'd learned a long time ago to go with the flow. "I'm glad you figured out my costume. I am…" she paused for dramatic effect, "Mistress Sheila, the Dominatrix Santa."

"You can whip me anytime you want, Mistress Sheila," quipped Terry who now sported a blackish-blue bruise around his right eye.

Playing the part of a dominatrix, she confronted him, scorn filling her face. "I don't play around with little boys." The crowd jeered, making Terry the brunt of their scorn and, without a doubt, she knew she'd made a mistake. She should've known an a-hole like Terry wouldn't take jabs at his manhood lightly.

"Watch it, bitch." He grabbed his crotched and thrust his hips at her. "Bend over and I'll show you who the man is."

"Why? Will she be looking at him as you try to put your little wankie into her bottom?"

Sheila's jaw dropped and she turned to face the four fearless─or was it brainless?─little men.

"Jeremiah, you don't know what you're getting into."

"Yeah, and you don't know who you're dealing with either, shortie." Terry closed in on the four men. "What'd she call you? Jerry-my-ass? Is that your name, you little freak? I thought all you midgets were named Tinker Bell. Or Tiny Tim. Oh, wait, I bet it's Thumbelina."

Tyla and Dexter, her rugged boyfriend, shoved to the front of the crowd that had formed a circle around them. "Okay, everyone calm down. We don't want any more trouble. Right, Terry?"

But the big bully was on a roll with no intention of stopping. "And what's your friends' names, little boy? Grumpy, Dumpy and Dopey? Hey, where's the other three dwarves?"

Blue was on Terry before Sheila knew what had happened. Yelling, the other three men jumped on the bully, too, punching him. Terry whirled around, cursing, trying to throw his attackers off, but they clung to him like alley cats fighting over a three-day-old fish. Sinking to the floor, Terry tried rolling, but they continued to pound on him, four sets of fist flailing.

“No, you aren’t. I’ve learned since I met you everyone deserves love. And right now I need to feel your body under mine.”

Ardan caressed her inner arm, making her shiver in anticipation. She loved this man with all her heart and yearned for his touch. Cupping her head, he pulled her slowly toward him.

“I love you,” he whispered, swooping down and claiming her mouth as his own.

Moaning in delight, she put her arms around him. “Mr. Locklin, I do believe you need to take your trembling wife to bed.”

“I fully intend to do just that.” Standing, he swung her up in his arms and walked to the bed.

He gently placed her on the soft mattress, quickly following her down. With a flick of his finger, he separated the front clasp of her bra and pushed it away. Caressing first one, then her other breast, he pulled on her nipples before leaning in to nip at her pliant flesh.

Arching to meet his mouth, Angie could feel the desire pulse through her body. It amazed her that each time they made love, it was like the first time, getting better with each stroke and kiss, each nip and tug. She would never have enough of this man as his hand slipped lower into her underwear to find her tender folds, rubbing seductively the jewel hidden within. Swirling around the hard nib, he pulled back.

“Undress me first.”

“All right.” Her voice was husky with desire. Two could play this game. Pushing him up, she smiled at him. “Why don’t you stand next to the bed? Let’s see if I can conjure a little magic of my own,” she murmured.

Levering himself from the bed, Ardan stood next to it, his eyes smoldering with fiery passion. “No one ever said you didn’t have magic.”

Laughter low and husky filled the room. “You do know how to flatter a girl.” Sitting up, Angie ran her fingers up his pant clad legs. “Do you want this fast or slow?”

He gritted his teeth, “What do you think?”

“I think the point is not to think. I think the point is to just feel.” Slowly moving up his legs, she stopped at their juncture, paying special attention to the now growing mound hidden from her view. But not for long if she had her way. Reaching around his taunt body, she caressed his ass with her hands and rubbed her face against his front. She was only satisfied when she heard a long, low moan from him.

“Hurry up, will you already?” His voice betrayed the need that his body must be feeling at that moment.

“Good things come to those who wait,” she quipped and returned her hands to the front to unclasp his jeans. She so liked him in jeans, each button a slow torture to what would be a very satisfying encounter. His heady aroma filled her nose as she pushed his clothes out of the way, her mouth moving along his smooth flesh. Before he could react, her mouth found him and she leisurely caressed the purple-colored, mushroom head of his cock, savoring each lick and taste. She had always loved his manly, salty flavor. Catching the tip between her lips and teeth, she smiled to herself at his tremble. With every lick, nip or kiss, she further branded him as her own.

“Be careful, woman. I want to come in you, not all over you,” he whispered and pushed himself even deeper inside her willing throat.

Smiling slightly, he nodded. "Every time you've ever had an orgasm they can feel it if you haven't learned to suppress or shield most of it. And yes, I'm feeling your lack of discretion right now."

Her chest hurt and her eyes drifted to the bulge she definitely saw in his pants. This wasn't good. This was bad, very bad. Now she understood just why everyone looked at her strangely, why so many boys couldn't keep their hands off her. God, just how many orgasms had she had since she was sixteen? She sunk lower in her seat. They probably though she was some slut who slept with every male she could get her hands on. Heaven only knew just how many times they had commented to her she seemed to like sex. "Every time?"

"Every time." Fearghus reached over and squeezed her hand. "But don't worry. We'll train you how to shield and suppress the majority of the magic and then you'll be able to go back to your life. Your very rich sex life."

She looked up at him from her slouched position and sighed. Aingeal wondered if she should tell him now or later of her virgin status. She wondered about her wisdom in not listening when she were younger. She supposed there came a time in every person's life when they came to grips with the fact their parents just might know what they were talking about. "Maybe we should talk about that."

He held up his hands, palms out. "No, we shouldn't. I don't need to know who your sexual partners are at all. I just need to make sure you can enjoy every other sexual experience you ever have in your life. Once we get to my home in Scotland, I will begin my training process."

Pulling herself up, she frowned at him. "Does this include any hands on experience?"

"Only as much as we need." He swirled the cubes in the glass with his finger.

Her attention was drawn to his hands. They were strong with nails neatly trimmed. And she wanted to feel them on her in all the intimate places. "Would it be rude to say I'll probably need a lot?" She could tell she had stunned him with her question. Still, if they wanted her trained, they would have to do it her way.

And her way was to get Fearghus Brodie to separate her from her virgin status first. Then hopefully, the rest would work itself out.

He adjusted his cock and strode toward the woman of his dreams, wondering if she felt the same about him. At any rate, it didn’t matter. Maybe if he took her virginity, he could break free of this place. Maybe not, his mind told him. Deflowering virgins in this day and age was not in his agenda. Not that he had an agenda any more. No, he just had a playbook filled with mismatched references to people who weren’t what he thought.

Standing next to her chair, he leaned in closer to get a good whiff of her scent. He had a nose like a hound when in dangerous situations and he needed to know her smell. “Look,” his smooth baritone rumbled close to her ear, “apparently, I’ve been deceived on who you are and what you can do.”

Merna turned her head to him, her soft lips brushing his. Pulling back slightly, her eyes went wide as the sparks flew between them. “Apparently.” Her breath was like the wings of a butterfly against him, making him want to lean in to grasp her tight to him.

“Do you know what I want to do to you right now?”

A seductive smile crossed her lips. “One could only hope.” Reaching up she put both hands on his face. “I don’t know what’s got into me. Maybe it’s this place. All I know is, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

Leaning in she brushed her smooth lips against his. She tasted like cherry chapstick, all fruity and sweet. But there was nothing sweet about her kiss as her tongue slid into his mouth, all warm and purposeful. With each nibble and stroke, she tried to elicit a response from him. Her hands ran briefly down his chest, feeling each muscled contour through the thin material of the t-shirt. Going lower, she cupped the bulge at the front of his pant, fondling his body in a teasing manner. Slowly, her thumb found the head of his cock.

And he was lost.

She went into the closet and pulled out another. Lacey put the bag on the bed, opened it without and was surprised to find what looked like a wedding program in it. Please join us in the celebration of marriage between Aingeal Mae Locklin and Fearghus Andrew Brodie… "Wonder where this came from?" She tossed it onto the bed but shivered when she did. There was something about the program, which she should know, she could feel it in her bones.

Swallowing hard, she knew she didn't have time to think on it now and pushed it from her thoughts. Seeing a movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned to Cuinn who had turned sheet white. She put her hand on his arm. "What's wrong?"

He gave a quick, jerky shake of his head. "Nothing."

Maybe she understood what she felt when she found the program. "Ah, someone you fancied?"

He scowled at her. "You think I fancy…of course, you would…you haven't met all my family yet. Well, I don't. One isn't supposed to fancy one's siblings."

She threw up her hands at the tone of his voice. "Oh, I assumed by the look on your face it was someone you liked." She looked at the paper again wondering why she didn't associate the woman's name with his. There was something very out of place with the wedding. It nagged at the fringes of her mind and she had to shake herself mentally to move on. "It's okay. Maybe you took someone you shouldn't have or something. There have been some people in my past too. "

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. "It's not like that at all."

Every contour of his body was rock solid. Her breath hitched and she tried hard to control her breathing. Licking her lips, she looked up at him and lost herself. She wanted to kiss this man, to touch him like a lover, to have him inside her as quickly as she could. Before her thoughts could get the better of her, she brought to mind images of the president, of Gandhi, of Mother Teresa, but nothing would to stop her passionate feelings. Her very being wanted this man.



* * * *



"Ah, hell--" Cuinn swooped down on her and captured her lips with his. He couldn't help himself. From the moment she walked into the conference room that morning, all he could think about was having her in his arms. He should have told his father at the wedding last year about his desire for her, but her place hadn't cemented in his heart yet. Now there would be no stopping their bonding.

Gently, he pulled back and gazed at her. "I'll stop if you want me to."

Lacey quickly shook her head. "No. I've never felt something so right." She pulled his head back to her and his lips captured hers with no tenderness this time, just a hard, raw need.

Still, he knew she needed tender after what had happened to her this past year. Changing the tone of his onslaught, Cuinn gently sucked her bottom lip and ran his hands softly down her arms. Rewarded with a slight shiver, his body tightened in response to her body's signals as his caress slipped around to her soft buttocks.

The rapid beat of her heart drummed against him, showing how aroused she truly was. She would be the core of his world and he wanted everything to be right for their first time, so trying hard to remember all the lessons on sex from his father. First, he put up his shields knowing some people in the city would feel the energy. Then, he snapped the glamour spell more firmly around himself because there were some things she couldn't know until they had reached the North Pole. Cuinn only hoped she would forgive him once all had been revealed.

Breaking off the kiss, he breathed hard as he gently cupped her face in his hands. "Tell me to stop right now and I will because you have to be very, very sure you want this to happen."

"I am…believe me…I am," she whispered.

He pulled her to him again, his mouth descending on hers, seeking entry with his tongue. Trying to convey the promise of all he could offer, he moved closer to the bed, easing his knee between her legs. She trembled around him then began rubbing herself up and down on the rough fabric of his jeans, shivering and whimpering. He hoped she felt the way he did and slowly lowered her to the bed, following down.

"I want to touch you the way a lover does." he said, looking into her now flushed face.

"I've seen you and know who you are." He stood over her again. If he knew what was good for him, he would walk away and never return. "I know you're trouble with a capital T and that says it all."

Her eyes went wide at his last comment. The wheels seemed to turn in her mind. He had been told about her legendary temper, but had not seen it since her attack. In essence, they had won by making her a fearful woman, afraid to step outside of her home because she thought the world was a horrible place. Maybe if he pushed her away, made her dislike of him surface, she'd get back to who she had been and he'd return to do the council's bidding.

She half-rose off the sofa. "How dare you?"

He took a step closer. "I dare, lady."

"Damn you." She quaked all over and raised her hands. "Damn you." She pounded his chest with both fists, again and again until the fight went out of her. Her body convulsed with sobs.

His hands went to her shoulders to rub away her tension. "Giselle, you're okay now. You'll be fine."

She looked up at him, pain etched his face. "What do you care?" She thrust him away with the flat of her palms.

He was taken aback by her strength, but wouldn't let go. "You don't have to shove me away because you're angry at the world."

Surprise flickered in her eyes. "Angry at the world? No, Ronan, I'm angry with you."

"With me?" He was surprised. He had acted like a professional, like an elf should when his charge was human. Maybe he had pushed a little too hard, but he thought it would help her in the long run by making her remember who she was.

"With you." She shrugged her shoulders, trying to remove his hands.

But he couldn't let go. "Why? I've done nothing to you except be here to make sure no one attacks you again. And tried to bring you back to the world of the living."

She chewed her bottom lip as if deciding what to say. When she did speak, it was in a low whisper and he had to lean closer to her to hear. "If all I am to you is a responsibility you don't want, why do you always smell so good? Why do you always look so damn sexy? Get away from me if all you want is to teach me a lesson. I've had enough lessons in my life."

He dropped his hands to his sides. This was his moment of truth, time for a decision, to be with her or to deny himself. "What are you talking about?"

"Huh." Her wry gaze gave him the once over. "Go away. I don't want you around because you need to be. Be here because you want to and no other reason. Even if we never…"

Giselle tried to shove past him, but he wasn't giving up so easily. She had to get it all out so she--they could move forward. Making up his mind in a split second, he knew what he had to do. It was her wellbeing that mattered, not his. He grabbed her arm and pulled her so she faced away from him. Her perfume wafted up and drifted through his senses, a warm earthy smell, so unlike what he thought she would wear. He was lost. He leaned in. Her hair touched his face as light as an angel's wing. "What is it you want, Giselle?"

His deep voice, laced with desire, touched her to her very core. "Who wants to know? Ronan, the protector or Ronan, the man?" she whispered.

Chuckling, she felt him in her cunt, the tiny vibrations heightening her already susceptible senses even more. “Of course, it probably wasn’t. Human men are jerks when it comes to that part of the anatomy. It can and will be very pleasurable when we do it, I assure you.”

“If you say so,” she murmured.

“I can’t promise I won’t take you there tonight, but I will take you to new territory all the same.” Making her wetter, he began working her ass tenderly, rubbing his finger to and fro, up and down, until she was a wiggling mass.

She had never felt anything like this before. No one had ever touched her in this way, with this much respect and feeling. Soon, Angie moaned for something she didn’t understand or ever think she would want.

“Please…,” she breathed, “…please…”

Slowly, his finger penetrated her ass and she almost exploded. Not moving, he allowed her to adjust to the new sensations. And what sensations they were. This was nothing like what had happened before, this left her craving for more and she found herself pushing hard against his hand.

“That’s right. Push down,” he encouraged.

Soon she had engulfed his whole finger. Now she had one in her cunt and one in her ass, and each brought such pleasure she thought she would die before she ever got off. But he still had more surprises in store. Leisurely, he began to move both fingers, in and out, fast and slow. Pushing. Pulling. Tugging. Giving. To the point where she was one massive, quivering piece of flesh. Leaning down, he blew on her clit and she knew that within a matter of moments she would be lost.

Alternating between thumb and tongue, he laved her body with wetness then hardness. Sensations came and went. He brought her up to a peak and let her down gently, never allowing her to go over the edge. Her pussy throbbed in ways she had only imagined were possible. Moaning out loud, she began to pump her hips up and down, grateful that he followed her every move. He continued to finger and tongue-fuck her until she felt she couldn’t stand another minute.

Hot pleasure began to rain down on her in molten globs. Her breath came in shorter and shorter pants. And then, he gently bit on her clit and she went tumbling over the edge.

Maxwell finished his apple and set aside the core. He tucked his arms behind his head and lay back on the bed. He relaxed, a half-smile on his face, his gaze on his flustered lady.

Ekaterina completed the last few letters and set aside the paper, quill and ink. She stood, her ice blue gaze held by his pale violet one. She lifted her top and ever so slowly pulled it off to reveal her breasts.

Her erect nipples garnered his undivided attention and he licked his lips. “Nice.”

Unhurried, she pushed down her skirt, first one side and then the other until her hips wiggled free of the material. She pushed the skirt down her legs to the floor and then straightened. A shiver ran down her spine. She sashayed to the bed. “Oh what you do to me with nothing more than a look.” She placed her knee beside his stomach, swung her other leg over him and straddled his hips. She caressed his stomach and then his chest. She lowered her body to lay on his. “What’s the word?”

Maxwell held her gaze and cajoled, “Seduce. To induce someone to have sex. To persuade especially by using a romantic or deceptive approach. Which you do quite aptly I might add.” He long ago discovered his immunity to a woman’s seductive lures, but this little spitfire’s actions would bring most men to their knees. Her innocence in the tactic snared him.

He held her to him with one arm, rolled over on top of her and pinned her beneath him. He lodged his hips between her thighs as his hair fell forward to frame her face and shut away the world. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. Soft and gentle became hunger and possession as her desire heightened with every stroke of his tongue against hers.

She fisted his hair, broke their oral embrace and pushed him down her body. “I need you, Max.”

“As I do you, Dusty.” He obliged, lowered his head and took her nipple into his mouth. He suckled in long, hard draws until her bucking hips ground her heat against his flat stomach. “Woman,” he growled against her flesh.

The vibration sent a tremor through her. She tugged him to her other breast. “Here.”

“Who is seducing who, Kat?”

Ekaterina walked over and stepped into the tub, her back to him. Startled when his large hands grasped her tiny waist, she let him pull her to straddle his upper thighs. She shivered at the caress of his palms over her stomach, but didn’t resist his hands direction to lean back against his hard chest.

Maxwell eased his hands up her sides and covered her breasts. He wanted to tell her how good her body felt against his. He licked her shoulder. His palms glided between her legs and parted her thighs. He growled into the curve of her neck. Her warmth beckoned and his finger slid between her folds, rubbed across her nubbin and eased toward her heat.

She arched her back and pressed into his touch, “That’s, um, new.” Her eyes widened when his middle finger slipped deep inside her most intimate core. “Ohhh.” His slow strokes ignited her internal fires like never before. His every caress a lure to her senses, she surrendered to his fiery touch and rocked her hips. “Yes, more.”

Her lack of virginity set aside his need to prepare her for him. He withdrew his finger with a low growl. “Turn around.” The swiftness of her response clenched his jaw. He grabbed her waist, urged her legs to part and set her astride his upper thighs. He trailed his tongue over the rapid pulse of her jugular and then nibbled her neck. His hands cupped her breasts and he held her soft full mounds as his thumbs brushed over her hardened nipples. His expert touch elicited a wanton moan and her hips pushed toward his erection. He smiled against the curve of her neck.

“She went this way. Get her!” Feet pounded past her hiding place and kept going.

Annanya hid under the skimmer, flat on her back with no clearance between her breasts and the transport.

Since she would be stuck there for a few minutes at least, she looked at the open panel right above her head. There was sparking damage from a short so she reached up and began to rewire the ship.

Running into Cabre with Nasha had been trouble, but when her friends started in on mocking the wingless wonder, nothing could stop them. They fashioned a pair of wings out of garbage and were trying to pin them on her when she struggled away from Cabre’s cronies and hid under the skimmer.

She froze when she heard footsteps return. “Sir, have you seen a wingless woman here?”

A deep voice almost made her jump out of her skin. She hadn’t thought there was anyone in the repair bay. “No. Nothing so exotic as that.”

Cabre’s voice was tight, “Sorry to disturb you, sir. I will look elsewhere.”

“That would be wise. The owner is fussy about those who surround his skimmer.”

She could see Cabre’s feet as his heels snapped together and he departed the repair bay. The other feet did not go anywhere.

“Miss? You can’t have much room under there and the skimmer can’t fly right now, so you are stuck unless you choose to come out and converse with me.” The boot tips were pointed at her and she couldn’t help but admire the deep burgundy gleam of the polish.

“Just give me a minute to finish these repairs and I will be right out, sir.” Since Cabre had addressed him as sir, it was a safe bet that she was under the skimmer of a noble.

The last couplings were managed with the wire cutters and crimping pliers she kept in her corset. Some girls packed it with tissues, she put tools in.

Annanya sealed the panel and scooted slowly out from under the skimmer. She was sure that she had grime on her cheeks and hands, but when she saw the owner of the skimmer her stomach dropped to her tailbone. “Your Highness.”

She scrambled to her feet and gave a curtsey with her short skirt. Her tights were bagging at the knees, her corset was bulging with tools and her blouse was a silvery grey. She was not at her best to meet royalty.

He touched her chin and lifted it so she was looking into his unbelievably blue eyes. “You recognized me.”

“Of course, Your Highness. I read the news and follow the flickers.” She shoved her white blonde hair out of her eyes. It had escaped from her braid once again.

“What is your name, little mechanic?”

She blushed. “Annanya Fennor.”

“It is odd to see one of your kind this far from the city. How is it that you come to be so far from the Orion Rest embassy?”

“I was raised here, your highness. I was found as an infant and taken in by the Fennors. They tried to find anyone who knew who or what I was and were unsuccessful. So, they raised me with their own.”

“I see. Unusual circumstance for an unusual woman.”

“If I may ask, sir? What are you doing here?”

He grinned, sending her heart tripping at nine times its normal rate. He was handsome, with his golden hair waving from his forehead to that chiselled chin and those devastating eyes. She could have fallen in love with just his looks if he hadn’t also been a philanthropist and polite, even to her in her wingless condition.

“My shuttle had a malfunction over your fair town and I decided to land before I killed myself. I didn’t know that there was a festival going on, or I would have gone to the magistrate to arrange the repairs.”

She smiled softly, dazed by his presence before she realized what he was talking about. “Well, your skimmer is fixed, but there was a problem with rodent infestation. You may want to watch where you park it.”

He was chuckling while he spoke, “You fixed it while you were hiding under it?”

“I needed to have something to do with myself and I had all my tools with me.” She patted the corset that was standard wear for a proper lady, but hers was stained with grease.