Zandian Lights (Zandian Brides 4)

“Well, the way you handled the raid at Xeres 7 was impressive. If they review that documentation, I’d say you’re a sure thing.” She bounces a little and her smile takes over her face.

I try not to make a face. Battles are completely not my thing. I didn’t even know Arc was up for promotion—not that we have really spent much time talking.

“You learned about that battle?” Bow steps forward toward Cressa, too.

“Oh, well, yes.” She turns pink. “I did, actually. I find it fascinating. And anyway, it’s important to learn about battle history since I’m focusing on new techniques to handle war injuries.”

I feel eyes on me again, and this time I know it’s Mykl. I turn, and there he is. Looking at me with a narrowed gaze, like he’s displeased to see me with Arc and Bow. Could he possibly be jealous?

At first I’m glad if he is. Then I’m terrified. He barely likes me as it is. He’s not the kind of Zandian who’d pursue me if it was even more difficult.

Arc and Bow are still engaged in polite conversation with Cressa. “Excuse me for just a minute,” I murmur, touching Bow on the arm. “I’ll be right back—just going to speak with a, ah, friend. Being. Someone.” I scoot between their strong bodies.

But Mykl’s disappeared. I glance around wildly, trying to locate him, but through the increasing throng, I can’t see where he went.

“Veck,” I curse. Like my human friends, I’ve adopted some of the Zandian words into the Ocretian we all speak.

Then I think I glimpse his cloak over to the left, away from the masses, behind a tree. I head over, and there he is—in a semi-secluded spot. Strange to find privacy in the midst of such a gathering.

“Mykl.” I’m panting a little. “Hi.”

He scowls at me. “Where are your young warriors?”

Is he jealous? Hope—a dangerous thing—flutters up in my chest. “I left them when I saw you.”

The hardness in his face softens momentarily.

“It’s good to see you here.”

“Indeed.” His walls are back up already. He looks at me warily, like my body is a weapon that might go off any minute and take him prisoner.

“Are you here with anyone?” I glance around, but I’m pretty sure he’s alone. Like usual.

“Wouldn’t you say we’re here with a thousand other beings? Surely you have eyes in your head. Even humans can engage in reasonable crowd estimation, I’d think.”

I’m used to his stinging replies, so I ignore the intended dig. “Humans can engage in a lot of things.” The words come out a little on the sultry side, and something flares in his eyes.

A muscles twitches in his cheek and he looks me up and down. I’m wearing tight pants that show off my legs and ass, which—and I’m not going to brag here, I’m just being honest—is a pretty fine one. And a flowing Zandian top which is gossamer and light and clings to my breasts and curves when the breeze blows.

“You look impressive.” I note he’s wearing a traditional Zandian attire of a white tunic and pants.

“You look nearly naked.” At his words, we both seem startled. “I hope you’re not planning to wear something like that to work.” He clasps his hands in front. Covering for his interest, maybe?

I sidle closer, watching as a muscle twitches in his cheek.

He acts like he’s so disinterested. I think he’s protesting too hard. “I agree. I should wear less, because if my arms are free I can work more effectively. Perhaps a swimming costume?”

“Not what I meant.” Somehow we’re close. Very close. I feel his hot breath on my cheek, and my heart beats double time.

“Oh, well, perhaps I should obtain a costume like the females wear on Ralia. Full body cloak with only slits for the eyes.”

“It would work better if it masked your mouthy replies,” he says.

“I think you like my mouth.” I whisper the words, but he hears them.

His gaze drops to my lips for a beat, then snaps back up. His jaw tightens. “You are under a severe misapprehension.”

It sounds cold, but oh, that look in his eyes… could start a wildfire.